Dr. Suryaraju Mattimalla Poetry | Pro-Israeli poet | Pro-Israeli poetry

Ode to the Defenders: The IDF Resolve

In the shadow of October's fateful dawn, 
When the call to arms echoed, the battle was drawn, 
Brave hearts united, a nation stood tall, 
For their safety, they answered the call.
 
From the river to the sea, the promise held tight, 
To safeguard the homeland, to stand up and fight. 
With courage unyielding, they faced the storm, 
Defenders of freedom, in valor reborn.
 
The skies filled with thunder, the ground shook with might, 
As the IDF surged forth, igniting the night. 
With precision and honor, they fought side by side, 
To reclaim what was lost with unwavering pride.
 
Through valleys and hills, their resolve ever strong, 
For the hostages taken, they sang freedom's song. 
Each soldier a beacon, each mission a quest, 
To bring back the fallen, to grant them their rest.
 
Regardless of the situation, they remained unshaken in the face of opposition. 
To the extent of showing their love for their people, they spoke out. 
With a grateful spirit of passion, they gathered to fight toward the battle. 
Those protectors of justice were those who led the way.
 
Nevertheless, the evil persists, and soon the night is near. 
The soul of Israel shall never die. 
For in every heartbeat, in every brave stand, 
Lies the strength of a nation, united and grand.
 
Well, here is to the warriors, the real and the strong. 
To the courage of the IDF in all that it does. 
Thus, with hope, their standard, and freedom, their watchword. 
They stand for their people in both speech and action.

Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.

 
Echoes of October 7

In the morning, when the whole creation was still asleep.
The dark shade emerged, indicating misfortune and death were soon to follow.
Sunday, October 7th, those words were etched in pain for millions of the modern holocaust victims.
When the girls were lost in the ocean, their childhood was violated like a Chinese vase.
 
News of terror spread like wildfire throughout the region.
Furthermore, lives were shifted, devoid of all it meant to care.
From a house full of joy and happiness to one of confusion and turmoil,
A nightmare unfolded right in front, too close for comfort.
 
Some hearts were once connected and are now separated, broken into pieces.
Family members came to mourn for the lives that were lost.
The voices of the victims are not to be heard anymore, but the echo of those joyful cries lingers on.
Symbolizing the bitterness of losses that occurred ages ago.
 
Women, children, and other vulnerable groups being trapped,
Desperation touched them, and their liberty was pursued.
Thus, humanity was lost in the name of the cause.
The price for such hatred is as high as it is steep.
 
Still, there is a glimmer, even in the blackness.
The strength of the spirit, hence sorrows draw.
That is why love has no bounds, and hope does not end.
Amidst such horror, we seek for peace.
 
Let us recall. Let us celebrate
This we do once every voice is lost.
In the middle of the fight, you are going to find strength.
As one, we stand in the darkness or the setting sun.
 
Tears and trials are here how we form the strength,
For the memories of the perished, for the memories of the light to survive.
And for every nightmare, a dream shall come to pass
As a result of courage and unity, fear is defeated.
 
Thus, let the world be aware, let history realize,
In approximately the heart of our souls to attain our freedom.
In the echoes of sorrow, we discover a way to the home.
As one, we will never be without a companion.

Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.

Jewish and Untouchable Carcasses

I did not realize—
why they hunted me across centuries,
why my breath was a crime,
why my existence was a curse carved in stone.
 
I did not know—
not until I read their scriptures,
words not whispered, but shouted in blood:
 
"The Judgment Hour will not begin
until you fight the Jew,
until a Jew will hide behind a rock or a tree,
and the rock or tree will say,
'O Muslim, O Slave of Allah,
here is a Jew behind me; come and kill him.'"
—Book 54, Hadith 103
 
And still, I did not realize—
why they spilled my blood for being untouchable,
why my shadow was filth,
why my love was a wound upon their pride,
why my hands, no matter how clean,
were dirtier than the feet of their gods.
 
Until I read:
 
"If a low caste intentionally touches a high-caste person,
then he or she is to be put to death,
& the Dwija (Twice-born caste)
is purified by consuming cow dung and urine."
—Vishnu Smriti 5.104, Angiras Samhita 1.39
 
And so, they cleanse—
not with justice, not with mercy,
but with the filth of the cow.
A sip of urine to wash away my touch.
A handful of dung to erase my breath.
Their hands washed in the blood of the cursed,
their faith purified by the bones of the condemned.
 
I see now—
history is written in our deaths,
scripture is inked in our suffering.
A thousand names, a million graves,
one story, one fate.
 
Jewish carcass. Untouchable carcass.
Names stripped from flesh,
bodies burned in pits,
bones lost to time.
 
What world is this—
where my prayers are dust
but their hatred is divine?
Where my birth is a sin
but their slaughter is sacred?
Where my hunger is filth
but their violence is purity?
 
Let them drown in their scriptures,
let them kneel before their own hate.
For I—
I will not bow.
I will not shrink before their god.
I will not let their words make me lesser.
 
I am neither curse nor shadow.
I am neither dirt nor shame.
I am the fire they cannot quench,
the truth they cannot burn.
And no scripture,
no law,
no god,
will ever make me less than a man.

Twin Stars Tragedy: Tribute to Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Lynn Milgrim

Under a heaven stained by the weight of history,
The two stars, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Lynn Milgrim
Learned in the midst of Washington’s stone fold
Their flame, a Jewish light, burned brightly with dreams—
A ring bought in secret, a vow poised for Jerusalem’s dawn. 
They walked from a museum, its walls heavy with stories, 
Where hope and words boldly wove peace.
But venom wrapped in a cry of "Free Palestine,"
Crawled through the evening, a serpent who wielded a handgun.
 
Elias Rodriguez is a shadow walking the earth's perimeter
Freeing his fury, bullets ripping through their star map.
Their blood collected on the sidewalk, a map of sorrow
Every droplet a universe extinguished, a galaxy destroyed.
Much like vultures hovering around injured prey
Raked through their lives like through the lives of six million others
As it did seven million scattered in the Holocaust's storm
The cry of "Free Palestine" was not a call for freedom—
It was a mask, a crescent-shaped sharpened by hate
A poisonous gas emanating from history's old wounds.
 
Their love—a fragile ark on a jagged star-sea
Dreamed of a family, a hearth, a future.
But the hunter in the tattered flag of ideology
Pursued them as the night's jasmines pursue
Their petals concealing thorns, their fragrance a bait for death.
Crescents and snows, bound together by their old compact
Hunted Jewish stars since scrolls began bleeding ink.
From Pharaoh's whips to Mengele's sterile blades,
The uniform may change, but not the soul.
Wearing fresh slogans and fresh posters, but remains—
A creature who dines on light, on love, on freedom.
 
Yaron and Sarah, twin flames of an unbroken people
You were neither the beginning nor will you be the end.
Your names become part of the pages of a book unfinished
Every leaf a life, every verse a wound unfixed.
Your spirits flew above the atmosphere like birds
Resisted falling even as the atmosphere thickened with animosity.
The museum's echo contained your laughter, your mission—
A bridge of compassion, now broken by a bullet.
But even in memory's clearing, your light remains
A constellation carved out in our resolve in the heavens
 
We stand as Israel's enduring stone, like the IDF
Against the crescent's tide, against the icy hold of the snow.
Your deaths are not an ending but a call to arise
To guard the stars still shining, to defy the venom’s hiss. 
Rest in peace, Yaron and Sarah, in the arms of a universe
One that laments your loss but continues your flame.
No mask of jasmine, no crescent’s cutting blade, nor snowy falsity
Shall darken the Jewish flame that flickers through time's dark night.
Long may the Jewish state endure, long may the stars be unmoving
At the center of Israel, you're at home, secure forever, radiant forever.

 

Ode of Gratitude: Thank You, Donald Trump

 
In the halls of power, where choices are made,
A voice rose in strength, unafraid and unfrayed.
For the Jewish community, you stood firm and bold,
Defending their rights, a story retold.
 
In times of great peril, when shadows grew long,
You championed their cause, where they truly belong.
Against those who would harm, you took a firm stand,
With courage and conviction, you lent a helping hand.
 
To Israel, you offered unwavering support,
A friend in the struggle, a steadfast report.
Through trials and turmoil, your resolve shone bright,
In the face of adversity, you chose what was right.
 
With actions and words, you fought against hate,
Promoting a vision where peace could be created.
For Christian America, you lifted the call,
Embracing the values that unite us all.
 
In the battle against terror, you led with great might,
Protecting the innocent, bringing hope to the light.
Your leadership echoed, a promise renewed,
For the safety of all, your heart was imbued.
 
So, here is to your courage, your strength, and your fight,
For standing with honor, for shining the light.
In the tapestry woven of freedom and grace,
Thank you, Donald Trump, for your steadfast embrace.
 
With gratitude spoken, let the world take its cue,
From the legacy forged in the battles you knew.
In the name of unity, let our voices resound,
For the bonds that you nurtured, forever profound.
Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.
 

Ode of Gratitude: A Prayer for Benjamin Netanyahu
                                                                                   

In the heart of a nation, where courage must rise,
A leader stood tall with resolute eyes.
For in the trials faced on that fateful day,
You acknowledged the wounds, the price we must pay.
 
With humility spoken, you faced a significant loss,
Recognizing the burden, the weight of the cross.
In the depths of despair, when shadows grew long,
Your spirit shone brightly, unwavering, and strong.
 
For every broken dream and every hope perished
Your stand was for your people, a pillar, a constant support.
You kept your focus during the confused moments and the pain.
Though it was the gloomiest of days, you understood.
 
You were determined to regain and, with great vigor,
A nation's belief is the spirit to go on.
In your way of the search for the hostages, you proceeded with much concern,
A promise of safety, a testament rare.
 
You dance to Israeli tunes, your affection undisguised.
When encountering animosity, you decide to fight harder.
Every time you decide, the courage that you wear.
Justice for all future generations is a foundation to be established.
 
Thus, in humble awe, we come to be overcome.
Dedication for the courage, for the determination.
Despite these factors, you have opted to stand together.
A beacon of strength, a source of our light.
 
When we raise our voices, prayer, and desire in our chests.
For the future of Israel, where hope should never be expected to leave.
May knowledge help you; may strength accompany you,
With you, we have had to overcome the fear during this period.
 
Thank you, dear leader, for all that you have done,
For standing with honor, for battles you have won.
In the tapestry woven of struggle and grace,
We honor your efforts and your love for this place.
 
With faith in your vision, may we rise and stand tall,
Together, as one, we will answer the call.
In the land of our fathers, where dreams intertwine,
We trust in your leadership, forever divine.
Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.
 

 Ode to Leadership: A Thank You to Joe Biden

 
When day had passed and night did brew,
A constant friend appeared, eliminating the dread.
From the heart of a nation, with courage and grace,
The majority continues to be good friends to Israel in the race.
 
With words of conviction, you spoke loud and clear,
A beacon of hope for those living in fear.
In times of great peril, your voice rang true,
A promise of support, unwavering and due.
 
Through the trials of conflict, the cries of the just,
You rallied the world, igniting our trust.
For every life shattered, for every lost dream,
You championed the cause, a united team.
 
With diplomacy's strength, you forged a bright path,
Defending the values of freedom and rights.
In the halls of power, your resolve stood tall,
For the safety of Israel, you answered the call.
 
To the families in anguish, you offered your hand,
A pledge of solidarity, a firm, guiding stand.
In the face of adversity, you chose to believe,
That peace can be nurtured, that hope can be achieved.
 
So, here is to your leadership, your heart, and your aim,
For standing with courage, igniting the flame.
In the tapestry woven of history's thread,
Your support for Israel is a legacy spread.
 
With gratitude echoed, let the world take its cue,
From the strength of your vision, the kindness you knew.
In times of division, you chose to unite,
Thank you, Joe Biden, for shining the light.
Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.
 
 
 

 A Call to Columbia: Honor Knowledge, Reject Hate

 
In the hallowed halls of Columbia, where wisdom should reign,
A shadow has lingered a stain of disdain.
For in the pursuit of knowledge, a truth must be clear,
The voices of Jews, we must hold dear.
 
From Einstein's grand theories that reshaped the skies,
To Feynman's bold insights, where curiosity lies.
With Curie's discoveries, a legacy bright,
Jewish minds have illuminated the path to the light.
 
In the fields of invention, art, and prose,
From Kafka's deep musings to Salk's healing flows.
Yet whispers of hatred, like shadows, persist,
As if the contributions of Jews can be missed.
 
Oh, Columbia, beacon, a citadel of thought,
Do not overlook the truth that history has taught.
The fabric of progress, the tapestry spun,
It is woven with threads of those who have run.
 
To dismiss their achievements is to dim the flame,
Of knowledge and progress, a disservice to name.
For every great thinker, each scholar who dared,
It has shaped our understanding, and their brilliance is shared.
 
Let not your prestige be tarnished by fear,
Alternatively, succumb to the rhetoric that many hold dear.
For in fostering hate, a new hub you will create,
A breeding ground for terror, a perilous fate.
 
Stand firm against bigotry, uphold what is right,
Embrace the contributions that shine through the night.
For in unity's strength, we find our accurate way,
A commitment to knowledge, come what may.
 
So, heed this call, Columbia, rise to the test,
Honor the legacy that you have been blessed with.
In the pursuit of truth, let your values align,
For a future of wisdom, let compassion define.
 
May your halls echo loudly with voices of grace,
In the garden of knowledge, let all find their place.
For a university's heart beats in every bright mind,
Moreover, a cherished legacy is refined.

Copyright © 2025 Suryaraju Mattimalla. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.
 
Author’s bio:
Dr. Suryaraju Mattimalla is an Indian asylum seeker from Germany. Dr. Mattimalla is a popular poet, human rights scholar, and vegan. He regularly publishes poems in American, Indian, and Israeli-based daily English newspapers and publication houses. He is the author of “Refugee Poems: Life in Exile,” Volume 1 (2025), published by Wipf & Stock, USA, and “Untouchable Poems: Lived Experience with Hindu Religion, Ideology, and Society” (2024), published by Wipf & Stock, USA, and the author of the globally acclaimed "Compatibility of the Death Penalty with the Purpose of Criminal Punishment in Ethiopia" (2018), published by The Age of Human Rights Journal. He studied short courses in history, heritage and memory & human rights and democratization at the Federal University of Bahia, Brazil, and the University of Sydney, Australia, in 2009 and 2010. He is living with his Ethiopian-Tigrayan wife, Selamawit Hailu Bezabih, and seven-year-old son, Saviour Suryaraju Mattimalla, in Regensburg, Germany, where his second son, Stanford Suryaraju Mattimalla, was killed at 37 weeks and 3 days of pregnancy by a neo-Nazi German gynecologist by forceful vaccination in 2023. His first baby was killed by a Hindu honor killing in India in 2010.