the teacher
expounded on the value of the tree
“Isaac Newtown
discovered the law of gravity
under an apple tree;
the Buddha gained nirvana
seated under the Bodhi tree
Children -
what can we extrapolate from this?”


“It’s obvious, teacher,” said a smarty-pants kid
*“class is useless -
for if they’d been seated in a class like us
they’d have remained ignorant”

1
if and when I'm retired

I'd expect the world to be kind
and reverential:
so I'd expect when I drive

all people get off the road 

when they see me approach;

and at the bank 
for all to step aside

for a man whose daily 3-time meals

is nothing but baked beans


2
I'd expect the world to be in awe, and to admire
so the women would say: *
”My, look at this retiree
in his psychedelic shirt and rainbow hat
and his bell-bottoms – real cool, baby”
and the men would concur, dazzled:
“Owww - this guy, what planet is he from?”


3
and 
of course I'd expect
 the govt
to send me my cheque
 weekly –
no, wait - EFT
will be the way to go;

and the Minister for the Retired
should call me every 30th

to ask if I’d like a raise

4
Also I’d expect
to wake up each morning
to find a cup of coffee ready on my table
and I’d turn to my wife and say:
“All our lives, you always put the ****** salt
in the coffee”
And I’d expect her to say
(cos that’s always been the way):
“If you want sugar in your coffee
fix your ****** coffee yourself!”*

5
And  all these things I expect
of the world (except of my wife)
to be kind 
and reverential
if and when I’m retired -
but then again, I might just die
at my table at work
after a coffee I fixed myself

it is now the in-between
a transition, a lull
no action, the will
at rest
it seems


a moment –
no sense of measure, actually -
like the evening
that embraces  
the trees and the skies;
like the dancer before a move

it is now the mind’s quiet
one at peace, as if one meets oneself
a cessation the while
a pervading silence
that does not seem as an other;
this is the in-between

Esteemed Sirs, all Honorable Ladies -
the artist asked me to pose
and he chose all the clothes
and the hat
and he made me stand there behind a frame
And he was serious
but he asked me to smile
and then asked me to have a smaller smile
not too broad, just a smile between not smiling and smiling
and he said these things with such seriousness
And he said not to stand like an animal in a cage
but to come forward in the frame
and to put my hands ever so casually on the frame

And he said, keep glowing and he said this with all seriousness
and when he did smile
it was like between not smiling and smiling
as if he were posing for me
And he was drawing and drawing
and then he had a break
and I had something to eat and drink in the kitchen
and then I was back behind the frame
and he took several days  

And I thought what a serious man this was, this artist
And when he had finished, he asked me to look
and I thought it was a lovely picture of me
And then I realized how playful this artist was, how clever -
putting me in a frame, as if we lived our lives in a frame
And then he had the canvas put in frame
so there’s frame within frame –
and I laughed then to see how
much humor the artist had, though he had worked with
such earnestness, such grave countenance –
I’ve been framed! Ha, ha…now I wonder often,
if we do not actually live our lives within a frame,
each one of us confined in frames…

she brought light
into the room
life came in
as she walked in

hearts were merry
when she spoke
everyone’s eyes
glimmered with hope

that was when
she was about
those were the days
when she was with us

people spoke
of the next day
in her presence;
people had bounce and cheer

I too saw
the radiance about
I too sensed the
life that stirred

that was when
she was about
those were the days
when she was with us

Now she is absent
we wonder where she’s gone
no one dares speak of her
nor of the good times

memory is oft our tomb
reminiscence our solace -
for what can we contemplate,
those weary
and for whom the future is death?

time passes, does it not,
trickling away in drops, from a leaking tap unnoticed
imperceptible, drops of our days and months that
tsunami into years

we might grow more cynical or wise
we might allow the animals to howl or to transform
or we might eliminate hierarchy and symbolism
and see plain and clear past the allegory
what is left of the experiment
(an unintended one, an unknowing participant even)
the residue, the remains of the years –
what chemical composition do we have?
What has transpired here? -
as clueless as we are of the first expansions
the time when the universes arrive in another cycle;
or perhaps we could see everything in the cocksureness of faith
and drag on, in suspension, leave in doubt or in certainty –
each but a conditioning, a myth,
the truth shrouded in symbol and plainness
O sweet loves,
Time wraps us in its mysterious archaic cyberspace
an inner space that draws a roar, a bark, a howl
and we have justifications, visionary words, systems
to put everything into perspective
like a Titian framed so elegantly in an esteemed museum

Look woman, you are my woman
as I am your man
And I fish all day
and sometimes nights too
and I come back from the dangers
and the labor and ****** ******* customers
who haggle over my fish at the marketplace
and they devalue my fish
and demean my labor
And then I come home with the coins
and I put them in your palms
and no doubt you cook me a sumptuous dinner
but come night, when the breeze carries the scents of the jasmine in
I’d expect a little fishing between us too, you know

You know, I’ve got me fish down my bottom
that’d I like to release, let it swim deep in your pond –
but this pushing me away at nights, and whispering ”You smell like a fish”
or “I’ve got a headache now” -
this will not do, cause you know,
my fish does swell much and that causes me pain and anguish
Because my blowfish really does want to move
and there you go telling me:
“You smell fishy” – what do you expect?
You married a fisherman, you know!
I’m not going to smell like a goat or a pig or an ox
cos I’m no butcher

And that makes me think
maybe you’re doing a bit of your own fishing all day
when I’m gone
so really you ought to
let my fish swim nights free in your pond
or surely I’ll bring my coins to a woman
in the huts at the marketplace
who’ll freely let my blowfish swim easy
whenever I put coins in her palms
And I can get me a change of woman too
So what will it be tonight? – does my fish swim free?
So, woman, you are my woman
as I am your man
And let us do what a fisherman and fisherwoman do together
when they are each other’s
and so let us add another chapter in the Manual of Love:
*Fisherman’s Fish and Fisherwoman’s Pond

the clouds hang over the mountains
the mist over the trees
and our huts are hidden in the moving fog
that stretches over our seclusion
most days;
on a good day when the sun
regains its strength
we see the mountains
and there is clarity in our hearts…

and so are our days spread
like the trees and mountain ranges
over this enduring earth

spread it on thick
on my bread and biscuit
lots of peanut butter
twice as thick
as grandma’s
makeup cake on her face*

peanut butter
more than tar on the road
peanut butter
with my naan and my rice
lay it on the noodles
and peanut butter with tofu
don’t forget a dollop
with the curry too


good pasta and pizzas
become better
soaked in peanut butter
Ye Olde English Sandwich
flames like a dragon
fixed with half a bottle
of the New World Inca paste

*spread it on thick
on my bread and biscuit
lots of peanut butter
twice as thick
as grandma’s
makeup cake on her face

row this boat, let us;
in this boat we are
given a respite, calm waters
and smooth passage, at least the while

and so let us row the boat past the fingers of land
past the trees and receding assurances
and the enveloping air like an imperceptible menace
and Mt Fuji like a blessing, but the inscrutable skies all round -
who knows how long a friend, a comfort?
row this boat then, only our skills are certain
only our intended destination
(for even the benign presence we know is fickle)
and who is to know if we may even reach land?
all destiny is in the hands of the waves;
we are but driftwood, we are…enjoy the rhythm
and when it’s wild, enjoy the thrill of the ride

I am one of those
who do watches
and people love to watch me -
they watch, but ironically,
they call me Watch Man

Well, for a start, I can eat watches
At a recent show
I ate 4 watches in 6 slow hours -
it was time-consuming

My wrists stretch on the touch of
watch bracelets
and so they made me wear many to see
how many I could wear on each wrist
20 on either wrist is what my stretch could take –
yeah, you could say,
I just had too much time on my hands
Last on show they made me wear a belt of watches
which was a pretty waist of time,
if you know what I mean

Look I’ve applied
to join DC Comics
Me as Watch Man
along with the likes of Iron Man, the Hulk
and Spider Man and such characters nondescript
But I’ve been turned down
Just not your time yet, I’ve been told

Well, so I content myself meantime
as Watch Man at Freak Shows
Doing the Time
before my Big Time
When there are enough time-savvy people
Who can recognise the genius
of those who do watches

I bought a sundial
for my garden

It would be perfect, I mused
in the sudden spot
Quaint, archaic – and provide an old-world charm;
a tribute to times past

and so it is there in the corner
but the ****** sundial is useless
for it doesn’t tell me
if it’s AM, or PM
like my digital watch does, like my iPhone does -
can you beat that?
No, trust me - they didn’t make things before
better than what come out of our sweatshops now

1
“My grandma, she takes
me too literally,”
says Little Literary Tommy
“At Daylight Saving
I tell her to put her clock forward
and she does so, and her clock falls off her table”

"‘Oh, Little Tommy,’ she says
‘See what you’ve made me do!’
and she lands a knock on my head”

2
“Months later
when Daylight Saving ’s over
I tell her to put her clock backward
and she does so, and she grumbles:
‘Silly boy – now I can’t see the time!’
and lands a knock on my head”

3
“She takes this literal thing too far
does my Literal Granny
that when I had a habit of sleeping late
and never getting up for school
she made me sleep out in her garden of herbs
so that I literally got up on Thyme
- and still I got a knock on my head
cos she’d forgotten why I was there in the first place”


4
But one good thing
(we must observe)
Literal Granny does for
poor Literary Tommy:
she knocks enough sense into his head
to prepare him for the hard knocks of  the Literary Life

everybody shaves
so Warren Buffet invests in Gillette;
and every country drinks
so he also buys Coke shares -
which leads me to my own investment strategy

Every human sheds forty thousand
skin cells an hour
That’s forty thousand cells times 7 billion humans
each hour–
you listening? -
now that’s a lot of dust;
and not to forget the many cultures and nations
that cremate rather than bury
and that releases from each body in the barbecue
1.6 trillion cells of dust -
it’s a ****** dusty world, isn’t it?
so…I’ve got it all worked out…
*I’m investing in vacuum cleaners…

And so in days past
the Zen Master sat with his disciples
in silent meditation
and a Divine Being appeared before them all
and addressing the Master, the Divine Being said:
"Hey, listen you - yeah, you, the Eminently Bald
For your patient and sustained meditation
I offer you a reward
Choose what you like:
infinite wisdom, infinite beauty, or infinite money"

"Infinite wisdom, of course," said the Master, promptly
And so it was done, and the Divine Being disappeared
as Divine Beings usually do

Silence followed and then one disciple dared to speak:
"Oh Master, tell us something
now that you have Infinite Wisdom"

There was no pause, and the Master said:
"I wish I'd chosen Infinite Money"

(1)
I posted a poem
at hello poetry -
and what happened?
Somebody started following me

I received a "notification"
(I can’t say “much to my gratification”)
that someone started following me
I think it went something like:
“Naked Blueberry started following you”



(2)
Oh what did I do?
What did I dodo?
All I did was to post a poem
and not a word from you -
O cruel menacing follower -
not a comment
not an expression of your displeasure
but you started following me
What did I do?
What did I dodo?



(3)
Sure
I may tell bad jokes
and write verse
that daily gets worse
Yeah, I may look ugly like I stole
a look from my fav Mad magazine
and once in a while I say something
about organisations -
but does that warrant you
following me
and transforming me into
a near-nervous wreck?

O Naked Blueberry
what did I do?
What did I dodo -
why do you follow me, you naked stalker?
I lie in bed now afraid
and my wife worries that
I cry out often in sleep:
“Hence, You Naked Succubus -
Follow me not!”
And I dare not approach my car
but after looking under bonnet
and boot and below the carriage
I dare not write a word now
but fear that you and your agents
will follow and stalk me
with ne’er a word, ne’er a warning

At least tell me, please O follower
O Naked Blueberry, O Protean Terminator
O **** Redberry  
and all the others in various guises
(I know you guys are all one person,
namely Lily Raw and Ready)
- tell me why you follow,
show me cause of your anger
O what did I do?
What did I dodo?
What should I do?
What should I dodo?

my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it

He spends much time
in exercise, in energetic thrusts
He’s a whole aerobics center;
gets all the exercise he needs:
He constantly jumps to conclusions
runs down friends, back-stabs whenever he can
side-steps responsibility
and you could say, is constantly pushing his luck
And pushing it too far too…
and goes round and round in circles
with many false arguments

But one kind thing I can say of him
he’s mindful of my health
for he must have observed how I hardly exercise
and he invites me often to his fitness program
“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he says…
But I’m just too lazy even for such effortless exercise
and meanwhile, he continues with his fitness program
namely, as I have said before,
jumping to conclusions and constantly pushing his luck…
while the only thing I can manage
in response to his fitness program
(darned lazy as I am, as he complains to his sis)
is to lift my *******

but frankly, my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it

scouting for talent in the streets
(for the next Michael Jackson or Pavarotti
or anyone who can make me money)
I spotted there in the streets of Melbourne
a bloodhound and a puppy, each with a violin
and each playing –
the puppy a natural, the bloodhound indistinct

I spread out on the floor
the talent contract for a team
and the bloodhound signed with a grin;
but just as the puppy lifted its paw
another dog came running, picked up the puppy
and ran off with the speed of lightning

“****! What’s that about?”
I asked the bloodhound

“Oh,” said the bloodhound sheepishly
*“That’s his mum, my wife – she doesn’t want
him to be a musician like me…
she’d rather he grows up to be a doctor!”

I got fined for littering
by the roadside –
just how unjust can the world get, you tell me!
Look, I agree I’m a *****
but think about it -
it’s just the normal thing to do

I was walking along the road
when I felt it was time
and I gave birth to puppies
by Rotweiler Road;
and this dumb guy comes up in his uniform
and gives me a ticket for littering –
well, I was really barking mad
What could I do? Well, at least I bit him on his ***,
that’s what I did!

Imagine the temerity, giving me a ticket
for littering – hey, littering is
what ******* do;
it’s the most natural thing to do!
What will you fine next? Breastfeeding in public?

I placed an ad
outside my office
offering a job in my small company:
The applicant
must be computer literate
and possess secretarial skills
and must be bilingual
(and proudly, I added)
WE ARE AN
EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EMPLOYER

and this dog came in
and indicated with barks and snout
he wanted the job;
and proved with paws and limbs
and tongue and tail, and with various barks
he had all the skills

Astounded, I put up all sorts of barriers
but the dog could not be stopped by any one
And so I finally said:
“You have demonstrated your skills, sure;
you have barked – but you don’t seem
to know any other popular language…
I can’t offer you the job  -
I need someone bilingual!”

And the dog replied: *“Meow!”

Ikkyu dropped
his Grand Master’s teacup -
the cup broke into pieces
And Ikkyu’s jaws dropped
Would the Grand Master now break
a thing or two of Ikkyu’s body parts?


“O Master,” says Ikkyu
when the Grand Master arrives
“I am contemplating Death;
please enlighten me on Death”

“All things pass, O Ikkyu,”
answers the Grand Master
“Death is inevitable
And only the foolish mourn
or are swayed by emotion –
the wise know
Death is in the nature of all things”


“Indeed, O Wise Master,” replies Ikkyu
“It is no wonder then that your teacup
passed away today, as you can see here -
and you, O Grand Master,
have most wisely expounded on this grave matter”


The Grand Master loses his Grand look

I agreed in my youth
to spend
my time
in a monastery
speaking only once
each ten years

Ten years, and my Master
summoned me
and I said: "My bed is hard"


I had spoken
and I was back on my next ten
at the end of which I intoned:
"The food here is horrid"


I was on my next cycle
of ten years
and at the end of the third decade
I declared: "I quit!"


And my revered Master proclaimed:
*"Go, you loser.
All you have done is to whinge."

the novices are comparing notes
proud of their teachers
(for if you boast of your Teacher
you make yourself look good)

“My teacher can go without food
for days at will,” says Owl at Lake

“My teacher is so elegant
he never yawns,” says Silk Robe

“My teacher is even better,” says Energy Jump,
“for he can go days without food, water and sleep”

“My teacher,” says Lazy Mumble,
*“I reckon has to be the best
for he eats when he has to,
drinks when he must
and yawns as much as he wants to
and sleeps when it ‘s time”

the Wise Man is followed
by many, from near and from afar;
and see, the Wise Man stops now
at the dumplings store
and buys some dumplings
and waits for his change;
but the vendor simply resumes
at making more money

“So where’s my change,
my good man?” says the Wise Man
who is followed
by many, from near and from afar

And the vendor he replies:
*“Change, O Wise Leader of Many Followers,
as you have often said,
comes from within”

six blind elephants
disagreed over what a human is;
and they concluded
they’d have a direct experience
to resolve the matter

and so the first elephant
felt a human and declared:
“A human is flat”

And each other elephant
through its own direct encounter
concurred on the lack of human dimensions

And so there was an end to the discord

the four monks are out in the open
meditating;
the prayer flags are flapping

“The flags are flapping,”
hums the first monk

“The wind is there,”
intones the second

“It is the mind that
is flapping,”
observes the third

“Mouths are flapping
is all what I see and hear,”
says the last


the frog in the grass
is silent

the would-be monk
(fervent, eager, so into-it)
came knocking at the
Buddhist monastery
but no one answered

the would-be monk
saw a sign
there in the shadows
that read:
“inquire within”

so
the would-be monk
went away immediately

Having defied gravity
(not me personally
but by proxy
namely through
a dog, monkey and Soyuz
and fruit flies and bullfrogs
and lately through NASA)
I defy humility
I brave it, I challenge it
for there’s too much hypocrisy
in humility
For humility is such
that it never speaks its name
For when it speaks of Humility
it is Sans Humility
Take me
for example -
you hardly hear me
mention myself as Saint Humility, do you?
But that’s what I am, my other name: Humility
But people keep insisting on calling me Saint Humility
But I defy Humility


POSTSCRIPT
I also defy repetition
and over-emphasis
and contradiction, paradox
But, it must not be left unsaid -
in defying humility,
I think I’ve also
quite inadvertently
defined humility: *Saint Me

Ah, the saints and the holy men
and the followers and the Holy Books
Ah, the wise men and those with deep insight
and those who are able to penetrate inner wisdom
(such wisdom as beyond the ken of the masses,
of the ordinary human)
they have declared the Eternal Truth
to the question:
What is better than Eternal Bliss?
Nothing

But O most Wise Seers and Prophets:
Verily, a little pizza is better than nothing -
therefore Pizza is better than Eternal Bliss.


You want a bite?

for centuries
black cats have been
the subject of blame

Is it bad luck
if a black cat follows you?

Here’s the answer
to settle this mystery
once and for all:
*It all depends, if you’re human or mouse

the English tutor
sits with Tommy at the table
and Sam the cat sits opposite

today they are practicing their vowels

every time the teacher
says: “Tommy, give me a word
with a vowel or two”
Sam the cat interjects:
*“Meow…meow…meow!”

Grammar Kitten has
learned well its lessons;
and of all the marks
it loves the comma best
for, as Grammar Kitten explains
to Ignorant Kitten:
*“a comma is like us cats:
the comma’s got the clause before the pause
we’ve got the paws before the claws”

said one cat to the other:
*“One of these days I’m going
to the Flea Circus
and then I’ll be real famous
cos I’ll steal the whole show!”

said one cat to the other
at the playground:
*“My mum always advised me
never to
climb trees
For she did say
very wisely:
‘What has bark
will bite next’”

O have you heard? -
the standards at the
Faculty of HISStory and Catssics
are slipping;
and its esteem
in the public eye declining
Have you heard?

Why?

Well,
that Faculty’s
got too many cheetahs
That’s why

Tomcat has his breakfast
of Mice Krispies
and reads his mewspapers
when Molly comes out with a snarl
in her purr-ple pajamas

she claws him all over
there’s such a caterwauling
and Tomcat emerges bewildered:
What? Why?

She’s upset that all night
her hubby Tomcat
called out for Cat Woman in his sleep
And what do I do with Tomcat
after this Claw Enforcement? thinks Molly
*Oh, just hiss and make up

…meow, meow, meow…

nine cats in a boat
and one jumps off
and there’s none left
in the boat in the same instant –
anyone going to ask why?

No, this is no conundrum
in nuclear physics
It’s basic cat life -
they were all copycats

…meow, meow, meow…

Grandad Cat
curls his tail
and wants to tell a tale
to his GrandKits Cats
He claws them before him
and he meows a catchy tune
that he shall
tell them a tale

But little Toby
he purrs:
*No, Grand – you're such a bad story-teller
cos you only have
one tale

(1)
Shall we join the ladies?

the ones who want to talk about the weather
The whingers, the ones who want to talk about your kids
and who’s got-married to whom...
The powder-appliers and erudite in the latest cosmetics
Old Nennie
who knows the accounts
from 1995 to 2001
and who’s lost it all other years
Young *****
who’s all about her children
And Decrepit Winnie whose children are all Ministers
and grandchildren all Politicians
She Who’s talking about Fat
and who is the Mother of all Fads
and which baby is born in what Esteemed Family
and which is legitimate, and which not

(2)
Shall we join the men?

The lecher, the money man, the one
who’s hot in the latest pants,
the one who’s scratching his crotch
The dandy and the one with ants in his pants
and Catch Up Jack who can tell you who lives where
and who earns how much and whose car is Posh
and who is not worth anything
And Old Joe who can’t let go;
Earnest Man Proper
who answers in farts;
the men who are all sport, who form the Drunken Fans
must gamble
and lay a bet on everything that moves, flies or creeps
whose eyes are roving to the other side;
the man whose religion is to convert
cos he’s so uncertain he must drag others along
And his intellect is false from the start



(3)
*So, shall we?
I rather find my own company pleasant;
besides, I prefer to *******

7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill

You’re a farmer in Drought Land
(How did I get here?* you ask yourself;
How do you farm dry land? we ask you)
and the weeds grow and your crops die
You need water, water, Hard Rain, plenty of Solid Rain
and the chemical engineer
Velasco of Mexico, he got just that for you
It’s powder, baby –
looks like sugar, honey;
10g of Hard Rain absorbs a Liter of Water
and it’ll stay there on your land for a year at the least

7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill

it doesn’t evaporate and only the roots can drink it
It’s Hard Rain going to come, baby -
that’s the promise -
it’s Hard Rain on your Dry Land;
it’s absorbent material -
this polymer, yeah baby, it’s called
potassium polyacrylate
and it’s coming to a dry land near you
it’ll lie on your land, and it’ll feed your crops
and you can sell your veggies to me
and that’ll feed me and my family
we’re just too many mouths to feed, you know,
all the 7 billion of us, baby,
on Planet Earth, on Blue Blue Earth

and maybe I’ll buy some Hard Rain myself too
for my own little Eden in my backyard
Oh, it’s Hard Rain, Hard Rain gonna fall on us all, baby
It’s Hard Rain going to come, baby -
that’s the promise
it’s Hard Rain on your Dry Land

*7 billion of us
that’s a lot of mouths
and tummies to fill

the eTablets from Mt Sinai
those from on High
they weren’t working
so Current Moses held them high
and he said:
“Anybody knows how to
work these things?
I was never good at Technology,
much less these new eTablets!
Nobody makes them work -
I'll smash them to smithereens!”

The Technician whom
they called to service
was a ****** migrant, a heathen
a pacifist
and a non-believer at that  
And he examined the tablets
and he declared his prognosis:
*“I can see it’s lost its power.
I see too it’s made in China –
I’m afraid it doesn’t come
with a warranty either.
Next time, for software and hardware
try Mongolia, or get your stuff all from India”

the eTablet is not happy
across its sleek glass;
and the paper book too is not happy

the eTablet has seen it
so has the paper book
the latest tip in the Health Section
in today’s paper – online and on paper:
“To sleep easy and well,
do not use computers or eGadgets
at least an hour before bed;
read a book instead”

The eTablet is not happy
about its banishment from bed
And the paper book, always too smart
for its own good,
is not happy too:
“So what are you guys saying?
I’m so boring I put people to sleep?”

And now eTablet glows
across its sleek glass

our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle

(1)
“Looking at apples, eh?”
he approaches Sandy
“What did the apple say to the bug?
Oh – stop bugging me!”

And he laughs at his own humor
(or lack of it)
while severe Sandy rotates
an apple in her left palm
and he ventures to the next vulnerable customer,
who is me

“How, my dear man,” he proceeds to ask
“do you fix a broken tomato?”
I shake my head, bewildered
and he unpacks his own riddle:
“Tomato paste!”
And he roars with laughter
his chilli-sharp eyes pointed
at his next customer


(2)

And off he goes with his riddles –
with his booming voice, no pause
and wrapping his answers in cracking laughs

He jumps to an old man
and he says:
“Why, do tell me, do bananas
never feel lonely?”
“Cos they always come in bunches”

And the young couple he regales with:
“Why did the tomato go out with the prune?
Oh, come on…simply cos he couldn’t find a date!”

And to an old woman he says
in  near-Oedipus style:
“What did the Dad Tomato tell his Kid Tomato?
Ketchup!”

And as in a light musical
he turns about and whoever he finds
he unleashes his final:
“How do you fix a cracked pumpkin?
Easy peasy – you use a pumpkin patch!”

Ah, our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle

It was the early days of the organic food craze
and my wife, ever a slave to the latest fads
(which disposition sometimes benefitted me pleasurably
but mostly cost me dearly)
made me run on an errand
(like: “Fido – go, fetch!”)
to get some organic vegetables
and arriving, I blurted out to the produce guy, stumbling:
“Some ****** for my wife” –
and that wise guy, Oxford-educated as he was
(though a failed Professor, so ended up at the greengrocer’s)
he said: “That you must induce or encourage in your wife, Sir;
I cannot and will not be of service in that connection.”

And I slowed down and I said:
“Well, dear fellow – for my wife, have you any organic vegetables?”
And Oxford-educated as he was, he did not understand such fads
having mostly a sedate and Classical demeanour
and he pointed his most English nose to the air;
and so I attempted again to sensible-phrase my inquiry:
“Are your vegetables -
and this I ask on account of my esteemed wife -
sprayed with poisonous chemicals?”
And the Oxford guy apprehended now, and he pronounced:
“Poisonous chemicals for your spouse
you must procure yourself, Sir”

Now, that was an idea. I knew Oxford-educated guys
were smart in some way or other.

And since then I have been free of my wife.

I have no need to run on errands for no baby, no more;
though I do have to count bars,
limited as my numerical skills are,
as is my verbal proficiency.

And the Oxford guy, meanwhile, I have it from the grapevine,
has set up an ******* Food Chain Store, worldwide;
I knew he’d go places, sooner or later, far and global

(poem not for the modest)

1)
Susan is envious about
Mr Ron’s rich-red tomatoes
just over the fence;
and Susan asks how he does it
“Oh,”* says Mr Thorn, “I expose myself
twice daily to the tomatoes
and they blush and so they are red
Try it with your vegetables, Susan”

2)
It’s three weeks later
and Mr Thorn asks over the fence:
“Hey Susan, how are your veggies now?”

“Well,” replies Susan, *“tomatoes are the same
Oh but you should see the cucumbers –
my, how they've grown!”

STOP
We don’t need Science. STOP.
We already have all the answers.
STOP.
Stop all inquiry and research.
ALL ANSWERS IN OUR HOLY BOOK. STOP.
We have all the visions and the dreams and the formulae
in our Holy Books and in our religions
and in all that is Revealed by the ALMIGHTY.
Stop! Stop Science! STOP! God has spoken to us
And the BOOK says BOO! to Science.  
STOP! STOP!
God has appointed the Few to teach the Many.
Listen to the BLESSED and the HOLY ONES.
STOP.
IGNORE SCIENCE. Be ignorant of Science.
Silence SCIENCE. STOP.
STOP SCIENCE. We know all there is to be known
in our Holy Book. STOP. We will explain it to you.
Trust God and listen to those appointed by GOD.
Everything you’ve always wanted
to know is all in here. STOP. In the Holy Book.
Our Places of Worship have got it all. STOP SCIENCE.
STOP INQUIRY. Inquiry is sin. STOP. Science is against the Holy.
STOP. God does not like Science. God gave us a mind to obey
and to think only of God.
Think mindlessly about GOD. In Mindlessness is Salvation.
LET your MIND be ALWAYS of GOD. Think NOTHING ELSE.
STOP. STOP Science.
Science is endless questions. STOP. Religion is Pure.
Religion is the word of God. Science is the ACT of the Devil. STOP.
Listen to the priest and those who are holy. STOP. Obey Religion.
STOP. Obey God. STOP SCIENCE. Obey God. STOP.
Stop inquiring and research.
ALL ANSWERS IN OUR HOLY BOOK. STOP.
LISTEN. DO NOT INQUIRE. OBEY. STOP SCIENCE. STOP.

... he and she are thinking…a life together, still much in love, as always,
but a thought or two, once in a while…


He
Once, she was a frog
and I kissed her
and yeah, she’s beautiful
But hell, I thought she’d come with
castle and lands and fields
I thought that was the deal
but she just told me I’ve got to get real -
they’d done away with kings and queens;
a few were beheaded, and most de-constitutionalized -  
haven’t I heard? *“Have you been living in a well?” she asked.
OK, fine, she comes with all beauty
and love and care and all that – yeah sure,
but a million in US bonds and a billion
in the NYSE indexed on emerging markets
would have been comfy




She
OK - this guy is the best, the greatest, cool
he’s steady, reliable, good and loving and all that -
but oh, how do I get him to wash the dishes?
There are never-ending things and chores to be done -
like tidy the bed in the mornings, vacuum once a week
there’s dust under the table
And you know, such stuff that princesses
don’t lift a delicate finger about -
will he just work on sight of a list,
and get it all done?
And how long can I have him wed and awed
about this Princess thing?
Oh, yes – and I forgot one more crucial thing
that he must always have the bowl lid down after he pees
Is it too late now – should I have included it in the pre-nuptial?

that’s that area
the right distance
from the host star
where life is possible
and water will not disappear
or be locked in
and there’s a planet
and it’s just right for life


Goldilocks wandered
into the cottage
and she found
the first bowl too hot
another too cold
and - *yum! – one just right

Goldilocks wandered
into the living room
and she found
the first chair too big
another still a little not right
and -  oh so comfy! – one just right

Goldilocks wandered
into the rooms
and she found
the first bed too hard
another too worn out
and - zzzzzz! – one just right


*Ah, lovely Goldilocks
Itinerant Goldilocks -
see we’ve sent you now
on inter-stellar voyages
and you’re now in the just right zones
You’ve gone places, Goldilocks;
You’ve gone the distance -
the little girl who’s made it to the stars

Robots know when to behave
1
Robot walks into the pub
and the arrogant human waiter says:
“Hey, we don’t serve robots”

But the robot smiles, and says:
“Sure – but you will, eventually”



Robots know when to be naughty*
2
Robot each finds a seat
and the program sends up the heat
and the drama unfolds

She Robot:
Hello baby, you wanna touch my mouse,
don’t you? Sure, your lips say 0
but your titanium-bolt eyes say 1


He Robot:
Oh yeah, you sure get my drive hard
especially when you flash your software
O Baby, nice bolts - you wanna *****?
Look, I touch your mouse, you touch my joystick

She Robot:
Look, you show me your source code
and I show you mine…oh, wow –
are those for real?
Or you got upgraded at Silicone Valley?


HeRobot:
Enough of chat, babe –
where can I crash on you tonight?
my docking station, or yours?

with all these advances
in neuroscience
it’s time you numbskulls
learn a little about your brains

1
First up, you must know
your brain’s made of the
right hemisphere and the left hemisphere -
and what do they say to each other
when they can’t agree with each other?
“Let’s split.”

2
You know the neurons
(no, not morons – neurons, you *****) –
now, why do they love emails?
Cos they love sending and receiving
lots of messages, these neurons do

3
Now, you 100bn-deficit no-brainers -
do you know what
your brain does
when it sees a friend across the street?
Yes, it sends a brainwave…

And when does your brain get afraid?
Yep, when it loses its nerve…

And be alert - never give your brain a bath
cos you don’t want to be brainwashed, do ya?

4
You get fired, baby,
you don’t work any more;
but your neurons -
they get working when fired

5
And for more advances in neuroscience
you might want to consult your nearest
neurosturgeon*…


with all these advances
in neuroscience
it’s time you numbskulls
learn a little about your brains -
while I get back to slicing these donors' brains fine;
or making them into soup -
just part of the trade, you know, of neuroscience