"saraswati" poems
people wish for a boy
not for a girl
there blessings are for males
not a females....
but .
when they need courage
the pray to lord durga
when they desire knowledge
they pray to god saraswati
so, why they hesitate to have a godness in their family ???
~ ~ ~ ~
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
people wish for a boy
not for a girl
there blessings are for males
not a females....
but .
when they need courage
the pray to lord durga
when they desire knowledge
they pray to god saraswati
so, why they hesitate to have a godness in their family ???
~ ~ ~ ~
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:48 AM UTC
Maa ki mamta ko dekh maut v
aage se hat jati hai
gar maa apmanit hoti
dharti ki chaati fat jaati hai
ghar ko pura jeevan dekar
bechari maa kya pati hai
rukha sukha kha leti hai
paani *** kar soo jati hai
Jo maa jaisi devi ghar ke
mandir me nahi rakh sakte hai
wo lakho punya bhale kar le
inshan nahi ban sakte hai
maa jisko v jal de-de
wo paudha sandal ban jata hai
maa ke charno ko chukar paani
Gangajal ban jata hai
Maa ke anchal ne yugo-yugo se
Bhagwano ko pala hai
maa ke charno me jannat hai
Girijaghar aur Shivala hai
Himgiri jaisi unchai hai
sagar jaisi gahrai hai
dunia me jitni khushboo hai
maa ke anchal se aaye hai
Maa kabira ki sakhi hai
maa tulsi ki chaupai hai
meerabai ki padawali
khusru ki amar rubai hai
maa angan ki tulsi jaisi
pawan bargad ki chaya hai
maa ved richao ki garima
maa mahakavya ki maya hai
Maa maansarovar mamta ka
maa gomukh ki unchai hai
maa parivaro ka sangam hai
maa rishto ki gahrai hai
maa hari dubh hai dharti ki
maa keshar wali kyari hai
maa ki upma kewal maa hai
maa har ghar ki phulwari hai
Saato sur nartan karte jab
koi maa lori gaati hai
maa jis roti ko chu leti hai
wo prasad ban jati hai
maa hasti hai to dharti ka
jarra-jarra muskata hai
dekho to dur kshtiz ambar
dharti ko sheesh jhukata hai
Mana mere ghar ki deewaro me
chanda si murat hai
par mere man ke mandir me
bas kewal maa ki murat hai
maa saraswati lakshmi durga
ansuya mariyam sita hai
maa pawanta me ramcharit
manas me bhagwat geeta hai
Amma teri har baat mujhe
vardaan se badhkar lagti hai
he Maa teri surat mujhko
bhagwan se badhkar lagti hai
saare teerath ke punya jaha
mai un charno me leta hu
jinke koi santan nahi
mai un maawo ka beta hu
Har ghar me Maa ki puja **
Aisa sankalp uthata hu
Mai dunia ki har maa ke
Charno me ye sheesh jhukata hu.....
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
My body is a temple
My bleeding is divine
My womanhood is spiritual
In ways that an intolerant devotee like you cannot understand
So when you barr me from entering Sabarimala
Remember that you can't stop a goddess
Saraswati is wise but her rage is wild and merciless
Lakshmi will create earthquakes that will devastate
Durga will pierce your heart with her spear
Parvathi will leave her abode and run into the streets
Kali will destroy you in unimaginable ways
They reside within us
We will cut our feet on your shattered glass
We will shout till our voices become hoarse
An army of neglected women will create a tsunami
Till you're on your back, crying
Till you give up your apparent 'religion-saving'
Helpless, wailing
And bleeding
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
Wait before you start thinking,
You should wait and complete this reading,
Can it not be a tool for worshiping?
Inspiring idols of deities like Durgā,
You feel so cared for by their motherliness,
Can you otherwise visualise an imaginary God?
Teachings from the idols of Saraswati,
You get connected to a Goddess's wisdom,
Where else you'd rather gain blessings from?
Wealth from the idols of Lakshmi,
You gain financial security & confidence,
Or is imagining a formless promoter God easy?
Cutest idols of deities like Gaņeshã,
You will love a naughty deity Bãl Krshņã,
Why should you not use idols for worshiping?
Mature idols of deities like Šiva,
You would feel them bestowing their calm,
Should it not be fun visualising them?
Statues are made with dedicated love,
They all invite such respectful admiration,
How would you ever feel the hatred?
I am aware that none of these idols is God,
Neither stones nor pictures can be Gods.
But what bad is a peaceful polytheism?
Do not please be jealous of their art,
And do not hate idol worshipers.
Feel confident and so peaceful,
Try worshiping stone idols.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
people wish for a boy
not for a girl
there blessings are for males
not a females....
but .
when they need courage
the pray to lord durga
when they desire knowledge
they pray to god saraswati
so, why they hesitate to have a godness in their family ???
~ ~ ~ ~
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees
Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,
In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries
Prana pushing
thunder through
sQuishing lemon trees
like a hundred new
Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew
The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view
Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you
Might be
dicking under you
Might be
Torn asunder true
Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,
what's been found
with lemon -ease?
I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's
7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds
Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,
Virus, the life that
spread disease
(it alters our sense
and what we please)
~Ahem,
***no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,***
today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low
There's an easy in
WE Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low
and now we win
amen, a man
none start south
Its begun...
Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
***I can't wear it, ah
Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
***What you carrying hah?
Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
***I can bear it ; hah
Come and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived
Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"
**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me
You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me
In glowing rivers,
poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon
With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.
Dreaming
with Both eyes open
and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom
Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving
Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon
I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man
who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon
Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.
This is for Those muted in zoom:
I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often
As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least
My Passion is to find
the passion of peace
its Stuck In the grasp
Fashioned with the sap
of my last energies...
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
Wallowing
in a stagnant,
skeptical world,
you must live.
Run river, run
you are no forest,
you do not stand still,
and you can never go back.
Logic need not follow,
but it always will,
and that is all it can do,
it is all
I can do.
Pleasure seeker,
still mindful of the gods;
Dionysus, Apollo,
Hanuman, Saraswati
in your heart,
never at odds.
Show no humility,
only invincibility,
make yourself cry
twice weekly.
Leave your mouth watering,
leave your mothers wanting more.
What if the cacophony broke the barricades?
Noise, noise, noise, noise, poison!
Gasp as the venom creeps to your brain,
grasp at the hilt of the dagger, dilettante, for all we can see
is that friends are always followed by pain.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:35 AM UTC
It’s not much, I mean, but
uh, nothing, sorry, man I got butterfingers
slippery as my tongue, here
did you drop something, are you sure?
cause my thump-thumping heart dropped
so hard to the floor when it knew you were near
that it bounced right back up
right where it goes, then straight out my crown chakra,
only to dissipate and erupt
into Truth
the literal and the metaphorical
allegorical nebulas that resonate in full high-definition colour the way
all Nine symphonies played simultaneously
would look
sedimentary, like a cheesecake
when I first saw you, something
shifted in my horoscope with the same scope and scale
of a modern Greek myth – Prometheus rising, fire
in the eyes of one woman, that’s all
all Aphrodite could gather up—fix it to the mainstay, Odysseus
let’s get to it, in siren seas, eating weeds to survive
if there’s nothing left when Cthulu
comes alive, I hope at least
I’ll get to talk to you at a party
like, once, where we’ll mix some more
mythologies
Once Inana birthed the world, and Spider Woman showed her how
I could show you how Saraswati
makes music, and old Bacchus stays on his feet
Care to play my Isis? If that makes me Osiris
then drown me, chop me up. Throw my body
to Mr. Lucifer; the Morrigan will come to inspect your ****
and finding it satisfactory
will whisk you away somewhere better
How’s that last part sound to you, eh?
there’s not much left to waste in the techno age
of “nothing in moderation,” with all our
degradation,
defamation,
discrimination,
and mild inflammation caused by
nonspecific anxiety medications
in our nation of constant false elation,
so
my point is time
the one thing we got left to waste
is time, and I’m a dedicated pacifist, but
I wouldn’t mind killing
some of that, with you
Let’s blow this pop stand
and go hunting.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
O Ganga!
You flow
Across the mighty
Mountains
O your youthful
Playful force
Making its way
Through the
Ancient boulders
Stream after stream
Joins you
To find its destiny
Happily
In your depths
To make you
O the vast Ganga we know
The Aryans found their
Abode on your banks
You saw the rise of Jainism
And Buddhism
O civilization
Not only flourished
But flowered
On your banks!
You've seen it all!
You travel down the Tehri dam
Across Rishikesh
And Haridwar
From the cow's mouth
O the Gomukh
Where your mother
Glacier Gangotri rests!
You enter the plains
Having crisscrossed
Roads many
And lives
Of many a being
Who consider you
As mother
Worship you
You bear their brunt also
Carrying heaps of
Garbage
You flow Kanpur
You see tanneries
And many more
You nourish them
Keep them running
But they end up
Slowing your run
You reach Allahabad
What's in a name
A tryst of cultures
O you have the
Gangs Jamuni doab
And Gangs jamuni tehzeeb!
Your sisters join you
And here at Prayag
You have Yamuna with you
O a mythical sister
Saraswati does find here way to you
They say
Life goes on on your ghats
As usual
People washing clothes
Themselves
And people offering
Flowers and performing
Rituals on your banks
O all but consider you
As an earthly mother
A heavenly gift
Just like Saraswati
You have your place in the scriptures as well!
You also
Flow out of mythology
Into our minds
O the mighty Shiva
Took you
In his mighty curls
Of hair
To allay your spirit
As you descended
Onto the Earth
To purge peoples
Lives
The Bhagiratha's
Penance you saw then
He got back his wish
Thousand brothers
They say
O you but still see
The Kumbh Mela(fair)
So many souls
You see the serenity
Of Varanasi
The beautiful spirituality
Of its
Ghats
O young wrestlers
Massaging before
The day's fight
Alongside
Seers in
Deep meditation
On your banks
O you have settled
This city
You flow across
Patna
The ancient
Pataliputra
Seen many imperial
Rise and falls
History echoes in you
You enter Bengal
The fertile
Gangetic plains
Bear testimony
To your gifts
With their lush green
And swaying fields
The Farakka barrage
Sees you in one of your
Giant avatars
You irrigate
And touch people!
You flow as the Padma in
Bangladesh
O you know
Two lands separated
By political shadows
You flow
As Bhagirathi
Hooghly
In Bengal
The rice bowl!
O your Ilish(Hilda)
People do relish
You flow graciously
Through
Flat extensive plains
Past Kolkata
The city of joy
And into the sea
At Gangasagar
Taking with you
So many memories
And promising
The continuity
Of your divine
Grace
O dear river,
You are Ganga!
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
Grace chose the poise of your
neck, what spring learned from
winter in white homage.
You longingly capture, and look
back at fate...your delicate head
sent slowly down upon its
pillowy body.
White, whited out...water clear
as invisible.
I dearly depart, I dearly arrive at
what dream settles upon you.
I loved you so much as you slept,
O swan, O Saraswati~
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
A little light leaks through
well-kept shades,
illuminating glitters and ghosts
of smoke from the incense.
The scent is strong,
good sticks from the temple
and it fills any missing spaces
in this cluttered room.
Saraswati's sitar is playing lullabies
that wake my conscience.
My eyes are closed
but I can see the color of your kiss.
And the island I forget to escape to
is floating in the distance,
waiting for us.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Naughty Bougainvillea
flash
their gypsy red burgundy parasols
like Creole maidens
from New Orlean French Quarters
their wild beauty
adorns Floridian gardens and
ocean courtyards
But, they are no match for
the Queenly Gardenia
Her soft, ivory, alabaster *****
exudes a scent found only in Paradise
As she unfolds her exquisite, royal,
Saraswati petals
I wait blushing with bated anticipation
for a whiff of Heaven itself
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
The key turns and the door is slammed open.
It’s been a long time and I
Don’t romanticize the cobwebs anymore.
The view of my childhood days
Has now vanished.
But the room remains the same.
I think.
I am reminded but vaguely
Of cold, saturnine nights and
His love letters.
The ones that I preserved for long
Until mum threw them away.
I monitor my steps too carefully,
I even take off my shoes.
The imprint of my feet over the dusty mosaic floor,
Like that of Goddess Saraswati
I was told, once.
The air smells of grandpa’s stories,
Freshly baked, right out of the oven.
The day he died, it was my turn to narrate.
The door to the balcony is locked.
I, sticking my nose out through the railings,
As a lonely ice cream seller,
Wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
The right side is no different from the left.
A curious void of vacancy,
My half-formed thoughts troubling me.
That year when books were my only friends
And I cut my hair,
To mourn my own death.
That mono-syllabic laugh at the back of my head,
A familiar sound.
The lips spreading wide and the eyes contracting,
Just a little bit.
The most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
I count my steps. Twenty-two to my room.
That unfinished bottle of grandma’s lemon pickle,
Most faithful companion to our afternoon dal and rice.
I pick it up and stare at the circle bereft of dust
Protected by the bottle’s lower rim.
I place it back, after a while.
Keeping in mind the limpid outlines.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
She feels it too I know it
From the quivering composure
Of the question that she poses
To my rosie cheek cynosure
For if she beheld my heart
Within her hands, its final form
Would be swan songs of exposure
To her wisdom’s winter storm
In all the tongues that I could taste her
Lotus blossoms of creation
But no mortal may embrace her
She is goddess of temptation
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
My bare feet walking across the green fields connect deeply with the cool earth, they know the way… this is the path home, this is where I belong. Do you get that feeling about places and about people too, like you’ve met them before or known them all your life?
You ask me ‘where are you from?’. ‘Right here’ I say, knowing that the answer you are waiting for, expecting, is only skin deep. Because what is visible to you, the mask of a distant land, is not my true face, and the question you are afraid to ask is ‘Who are you and where do you really belong?’
When you catch my passing reflection who do you see? Who can you see beneath this earth-toned façade? Can you see my mothers legs walking toward you, my father smile as my grandmother’s eyes search your face and my grandfathers hand reaches out to take yours? Who are you and where do you really belong?
Come, dance with me, your answer is not in my words. My answer is not in your eyes. Let your feet move to the rhythm of my heartbeat, let me feel your ancestors dancing in my DNA. Let our bodies tell their tale for my blood holds the memory my tongue forgot, my sweat the taste of ancient prayers. Who are you and where do you really belong?
Which Mother land gave birth to my soul? Lashmi, Durga, Kali, Saraswati in your womb I dance… with Venus, Isis, Freya, Aphrodite, Yemaya, Sekmet, Demeter… ****** mother, crone… who are you? Where do you really belong?
The eternal quest to find the source, ashes to ashes, dust unto dust the earth swallows my dance and I stand still with mud between my toes. For an instant your mask drops and I know who I am and where I really belong….
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
Books – a medicine saturnine.
Those who have books shine
With lively bright colour twine.
Books – a Daniel – be in shrine
To take us all up with whine.
Saraswati, indeed, did opine
My talents with saccharine
And help me for Her to reassign
Her position in the world malign.
With her help I Monorhyme define
And made many people it dine
With garlic or ginger or brine.
Oh! Goddess! Help me refine
The world with your dyne –
Books – a medicine saturnine.
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
i feel so held in the cradle of the canyon
the dips in the earth
the way she swells and wants my eyes to know it
the way she bathes my breath
in tiny ice crystals
as i stare
frosty-eyed, at her
dusted in snow
it all is a caress -
soft as sheets
floating, fluttering, onto skin
as lover makes the bed around you
her voice softens
to a whisper of pine needles in wind
as cold dampens, assuages, sound
every cell is called to calm
drawn to a hush
i think i can close my eyes and rest here
i think i can open my ribcage to more breath
sweet and crisp inspiration
hushed sip
i think i can soften into the blankets laid out for me under these trees
a sensational winter picnic
a cordial invitation
from earth and saraswati
Dec 8, 2023
Dec 8, 2023 at 10:53 PM UTC
Perfect synonym of a pearl,
Yes m talking about a girl.
Daughter, sister and wife,
Plays all roles in one life.
Sacrifices for others ,
Adjusts in every circumstances,
Does all her duty perfectly,
Then why at the end she is lonely?
They pray goddess Lakshmi for wealth,
They pray Kaliiji for good health,
They pray Goddess Saraswati for knowledge,
Then why do they hesitate to have,
One such in their home?
Each day a girl is *****
You tell girls to wear properly,
Why don't you tell boys to behave properly?
Girls are killed before and sometimes after birth,
She is considered as a pressure around,
Tell me one thing males if females are not there,
Who will give birth to your next generations?
Bulshit are those who think females should be confined to kitchens,
Tell me this if they are not educated,
Who will get your kids educated?
On rakshabandhan Who is gonna tie love on your wrist?
Whom are you going to tease when in stress?
A girl is not waste it's a worth,
Preserve them, respect them
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 7:13 AM UTC
New moon
Dark rising
Looking within
Goddess timing
Sisters gather
Circle strength
Intentions matter
Love mends
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Her muses are rather bazaar
From afar
To an Akbar they are
Saraswati’s sitar
For the river is vivid expressions of life
In a culture as distant
As discordant strife
When the songs are of mango trees
Sweet as can be
And her temples of riches
Are fertile and free
But still poverty seen
Inundating the banks
So much so in fact
That the monkey gods pray
Where the rhinos once drank
And I must bear witness to all the existence
Persistence resisting the suffering tone
For mine is so om that unknown is my home
But the homeless who roam like Dalits in the streets, still need places to sleep
And a harvest to reap
From the zamindar’s farm, could feed all of Uttar
Which is still so bazaar from afar to Akbar
That I wander the Thar as I wonder who are, All the bearers of Blue Star and Amritsar scars
Still polluting and looting
And shooting their brothers
And turning the tears of the Mother the Color
Of coal ash despair from unfair lady lovers
Still Partitioning them against one another
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
I’ve seen signs of life grow
As they dance within fallout zones
Hunger’s war-waged
Ravaged plains where no Jesus goes
Shopping for happy
And shinier things
A bazaar kind of market
Where real freedom rings
Over cannons crowns used to blow babies to bits
But now lion kings bow in the tigress’ midst
And in piles of ***** where they let the pigs squeal
But the monkeys as gods still respect what they feel
By the river, the nurturing mother, the giver
Created by Brahma, the people, the mirror
As clear as the lotus blooms Saraswati
With the grace of a swan in my speech therapy
Where the wisdom of elephants steps to progress
And the mercy for mice carries it to success
And the cobra don’t strike lest the mongoose is stressed
For Surya sent his very best from the West
As it sets in a sapphire mango mirage
And it adds to this human collective collage
With monsoonal communal’s resurgent potential
To never change climates on what is essential
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC
I’m the cracks in the ice geist
The thief in the night light
The reason you can’t even go to sleep
When you’re hype Skype
The read it and write sleight
Of hand with that left heist
The best and brightest western spittin’-Spetnaz platoon type
The jungle, it’s coming
Oh, they want you there runnin’
That whole backwards crazy cooky communally-driven country,
That refuses to bow,
To the lion’s lie crown,
Because the tigress is the Ganga
And she’s watered this ground,
With cheetah archer princes blue
Through pacifistic aestheticians
Who still burn to the moon,
To feel her Saraswati peace of mind
Evoke the monsoon
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 10:16 PM UTC
Books are resource for them who deplore
Idiocy, silliness, folly. Where absurdities encore
There books no place get and can’t decor
Them into ideal from idle I am cocksure.
Saraswati lives in them to downpour
Knowledge, Gen and Expertise’s store.
Foolish loath them, wiser lavish more.
Now changing form - pulp earlier at core
Now e-form in mobile showing its ****
Now or then, book is a book for sure –
Without we are incomplete. Oh Thor!
Burst on those idles and cloak wore
Of giant to teach leave their amour.
So friends, leave thy laziness at floor
And join me in my swelling score.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC