I walked in to the University
I said, "Show me the library;
that's what I always want to see"
And they brought me into
The Hemingway Library -
and that had me drooling, that
they'd think of naming the place after
that famous writer, and a favourite

"That's amazing," I told my guide
"that so far away from the USA
you'd think of naming it after Ernest Hemingway"

"Oh no," said the guide, puzzled
"It's named after Andrews Hemingway"

"Is he a writer?" I asked

"Oh, sort of," my guide explained,
*"he wrote us a cheque for 2 million"

Kron joins the monastery;
he must stay in isolation
and is allowed to say 2 words
every three years


3 years pass
and Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
Cold room, he says


3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
Bad food, he says


3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
I quit, he says


Not surprising, say the Elders
*All you have done since you came here is to complain

What? What’s up with you guys?
can’t a cat have peace in one’s own home, yeah?
never seen a cat eat before?
can’t you just mind your own business
and let a cat do a cat’s business of eating, ha?
HA! - what’s that laugh for?
and for goodness sake put away that camera
You think I’m cute, ha?
wait till I get my paws on you
and a flick of my tail while I’m in mid-air
will take care of your camera
What, you some kind of paparazzi or what?
OK, let a cat eat and you mind own business, yeah?
Oh, I’m really suspicious about you guys
Maybe you’re hungry, yeah?
go get your own food guys;
stop looking at cat food
or at cat as food – I’m really not sure about you guys
You’ll eat anything!
OK, jokes aside
I’ve worked hard my day entertaining you morons
and purring so you can squirm with delight
and curling up in your laps
so you’ll be happy and live longer at my expense
No, I’ve done my work so let me eat in peace
Do your work and go get your own food
That’s better...
Ah, now for some cat food, a catnap after
and some cat peace for a while at least
without adoring humans who think
they’ve got a circus just because they’ve got a cat at home

grow little girl
grow like a flower
grow into fullness
charm and grace;
grow, my little darling
grow into strength
and wit and wisdom

may you take your place
take what is yours
in this wide world of ours;
may all good things
and all blessings
and choice possessions be yours

may you grow
to bring joy to all who see you;
may you always be filled with energy
and may all who meet you
feel the happiness in your presence
may you live long and well

may all beings feel the warmth
just in hearing your name;
may all beings benefit
through your life

grow little girl
grow like a flower
grow into fullness
charm and grace;
grow, my little darling
grow into strength
and wit and wisdom

dear sparrow
at my window -
what should I do now
with all this pain in me
and all this stubborn sorrow?*

there are the scars of life
and all that we do to one another
there's the injustice I suffered
at the hands of those who had power
and I stumbled and I fell
and there was laughter all round
there is regret and time offers no solace
and I am left in my isolation
staring through my  window
at passing strangers with vacuous looks

*dear sparrow
at my window -
what should I do now
with all this pain in me
and all this stubborn sorrow?

1
whether the weather has changed
or whether the weather is just the same
whether you are a weather skeptic
or a weather septic, or doomsday climatologist –
horribly or incorrigibly either way –
the weather has its field day, and ocean day
either way, trumping all our noses
whatever our beliefs
each day

2
Just a matter of routine
the other day,
all in a day’s work -
roar and boom! went the earthquake
over the city, and everything was rubble –
well, what could be worse than that?
swoosh and **** next it sounded
we had a tsunami coming over –
"Hey, we’re just being helpful," said the deluge
"We’re just washing everything away"

Just a matter of routine the other day
all in a day’s work
Said the hurricane to the coconut trees
along glossy Eden’s shores:
"Hold on to your nuts, you tall fellas -
this is no ordinary ******* you’re gonna get!"
And far out at sea
where Noah might have gone
where ocean meets ocean,
one ocean waved to the other
and beat his chest:
"Did you sea what I just did?"
And irriatted with the silence
it said: “I’m sure you did, beach!"

Just a matter of routine the other day
all in a day’s work

it grieves me
the major dictionaries
cannot agree
on the longest word
in the English Language

The Oxford English proposes:
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
Merriam­-Webster champions:
electroencephalographically
and others list: floccinaucinihilipilification -
but look, I am no counterrevolutionary
and I'm not attempting any deinstitutionalisation
but really the longest word in the English Language
(and let's settle this once and for all, amicably) is:
SMILE
Why?
because there's a mile between S and E...
You see? Easy!
Makes you wonder if
the editors of major dictionaries
are *visuallyintellectuallyfacialmuscularlychallenged

you know
it’s not like anything is forever
nothing lasts till the end of days
so you must go
one day or night in hill or in bed
while fighting the enemy
or having *** in bed;
conditioned beings all of us
coming of stars and space and dimensions
particular to our space-time continuum
and set of conditions that ***** us into being;
you must go and I must go
and the saint must go and the powerful must go
and the holy and the unholy
and the clever and the stupid-
everyone, they must in their turn go;
and it doesn’t matter how weak or strong or power-packed you are
we must all each have a go;
but really think about it before you nod in agreement
for callous as it may sound
child and young and old
and wife and beloved and mom and dad;
think about that before you readily nod heads;
and so you’re God, and You think You are Forever?
Sorry brother,
Time’ll knock the d out of you
sooner or later…
for really -
no matter who you are -
everyone must go…
But I’m God, you may protest -
but really, you’ve had your centuries
and Time will not permit eternity
(you may choose to go with thunder and lightning)
but you too, Dear God,
sorry brother,
conditioned beings all of us
coming of stars and space and dimensions
particular to our space-time continuum
and set of conditions that bring us into being;
the time comes when each, creator and created, weak
and Omnipotent (Ouch! So Powerful!) -
each must go…
Time, you see, does not permit eternity…

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?

my wife’s always late
so I wailed: “Hurry up, dear
or it'll be light...
You know, the early ghost
catches the faint-hearted”

“Hang on,” she howled
(I’d died on the rope, you see)
“just my finishing touches
with my mas-scare
and a bit more of my scare spray”
and then she floated out
into the dying room
(we don’t have living rooms, you understand)
looking just *boo-tiful

1
The child that said what he saw
at the end of the street:
“But mommy,
the Emperor  ’s bare as
Little Tommy the day he was born!” -
that child,
I’ve always wondered,
always what happened
to that child

Just recently
in my journeys
I saw
The Annals of the State (check Wikileaks)
show what happened to the boy and all


2
Straight on from the streets
the boy was sent
to the Truth Ideology School
where he spent years polishing
the Fat Butts of the Royal Horses -
but still saying what he saw
(for it seems this is a Disease of the Brain,
a condition known plain as:
Speaking the Truth);
and so he was delivered then the State Cure:
and now, it seems, he lives in Cell131313
(serves him right for catching the disease;
sure, the sins of the fathers are visited on the kids)
teeth rotten and knees falling
the little boy who spoke the Truth -
now unknown, hidden and obscure

And his Ma was sent to
Patriot Mother’s Re-Education Program Institute
where even centuries after
she’s yet to complete her first year;
And his Dad to Desert-You-Never-Come-Back-From
and little Tommy was sent to
Grab-Them-Young School

And every school child
in The Emperor’s Domains is taught
The Upright Moral of the Story:
Don’t tell Lies –
For the Truth is the Lie


3
Remember then, for your own good,
O ye children
of all nations and clime:
*It was the tailors
the smooth-talkers
the unjust, the wrong-doers
the charlatans -
It’s them that got away

I’ve been foraging lately for a simile
to show how Supreme Office is -
what it means to be here
just as any other office in the corporate world

Well, I’ve got it now, I think -
ever seen a tree of monkeys?
There are chattering monkeys
everywhere
at every level
every branch
above and below -
well, Supreme Office is just like that:
*the monkeys above see
ingratiating, smiling monkeys below;
and the monkeys below see nothing
but ******* above

dearest, O my new, new love -
will you grant me but 2 deviations?
for I will love truly and give everything unto you;
in all ways I’ll be the man you want me to be
but in two - and grant those my only perversions, let them be:
First - allow me to drive all my life;
never take the wheel from me...
you see, my dad never allowed me to drive
and he threw me in the back seat
and never even told me where he’d bring me
and he’d dump me
in my nana’s or in the shopping center
sometime for a week or two
and when I said Could I drive?
He’d say: You? you ****!
You’re only 22!

So now when we settle down and build our own nest
you must really let me drive
like hell
really let me be the driver
and let me drive
never you take the wheel
you can sit like a Queen in the passenger seat
and I’ll drive you wherever you want to
but Oh - promise, promise, never take the wheel from me...

And the 2nd deviation, before I forget...
I do have the habit
of digging my nose
whenever I’m happy
and so when I’m at the wheel
you can bet your last dollar
I’ll be digging my nose
(the 2 go together)
so you must promise
to let me be
and let me dig my nose as I drive
for nothing makes me happier
so never, never
O please
never ever rap on my knuckles
when I dig my nose
like my mum did with her steel ruler
whenever I put my fingers in my nose

O if you can promise me these 2
that you’ll allow these 2 perversions
to be the normal rule in our love -
Oh, then I’ll be the happiest man ever...
Now excuse me, while I dig my nose...

Emperor So-and-So
with his Ten Thousand Beauties
in his Blue Pearl Harem
pulls at the sleeve
of his Human Resources Manager
while they are watching a Military Parade
and he whispers:
See that beauteous woman
sitting there in the third row…
Get her to my chamber tonight
for I want to have a go, go


and that night
as part of foreplay
Emperor So-and-So whispers
to the girl plucked
out from the third row:
Hey, beautiful -
Where have you been all the while?
Never seen such a beauty before, you know.


And the girl from third row
looks with surprise
and with her mouth wide open, she says:
*But Sire, I am one of your
Ten Thousand Beauties
in your Blue Pearl Harem

So this New Boy just graduated
from The Top University and Full Honors
and all that jazz and the Right Degrees
(none of the arts and philosophy and poetry
and all that crap)
walks into Supreme Office
for his interview
and the HR and PR and Admin and the CEO
and the SR and the RR and DDR and the RRRR
(don’t ask me what they are – they just are  rrrrrr)
and so the CEO asks our Golden Child Prodigy:
“You got all the top degrees and qualifications
You’re the brightest mind just out of University –
what’d do you expect for pay here at Supreme Office
if you make it to a chair and table?”

“A pay that will put $100K in my pocket
to take home the first year, and it will be more
each passing year”

“What about,” says the CEO, with that cold smile
that matches the Golden Boy’s enamel smile
“if I said we offer you above that
and a month’s paid leave, a secretary
and a room all to yourself and chauffer-driven car
even in the weekends
and all medical, insurance
dental and tropical vacations all paid for?
What’d do you say?”

“You’re kidding, right?” says Bright Kid Business Mozart
with that rising-star lean and sneer


“Of course I am,” says the CEO
*“But don’t blame me for the joke – you started it…”

run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

there’s rain and hail
and the wind blows wild;
what are you doing
flitting idly by?

run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

duck for cover
excuse the expression;
hide under a tree
or go sleep under the leaves;
have you no sense
of impeding danger?

Oh run home
run home
butterfly;
run run
fly fly fly

the wind blows hard
and you’re being blown around;
what happens if
a tiny hail stone
swings a hole in a wing?
or worse,
oh fragile beauty,
I don’t want to be here to see
a hail stone the size of a child’s fist
land smack on your gentle head

so run home
run home
you silly
playful butterfly;
run run run
fly fly fly

Nasrudin is in his early twenties
and he works at the warehouse

See, each worker
lifts 3 sacks a time  
and puts them on a pile
and walks back for more

but see Nasrudin
how he works -
he carries just 1 bag
and puts it on a pile
and walks back for 1 more

Now, says the foreman
Why is it you only carry 1 sack
When others carry 3 at a time?

Sir, says Nasrudin
*I carry 1 bag a time
and make 3 trips in all
But the others
unlike me
are just
too lazy to make 3 trips

Sir, most honorable one…
It is not in fear or disgust
or in disappointment or revulsion
no, Sir, it is not of such causes that I have
sought the solitude of these hills and rocks and trees
and the lake that whispers ever, even as I lie down to sleep;
but O most revered passer-by -
in the hustle and bustle of our lives in the capital
and in our cities, even there I found an embracing silence
that I could not ignore;
and I saw the shallowness of activity
and I saw the ambition of superficiality;
and let it be what word philosophy or ritual or religion
may call it, whatever labels Organized Thought revels in -
that Silence I found nameless and formless -
and even in the midst of activity
I found inactivity
But Sir, as you ask,
the Impatient saw Rebuke in my Silence
the Virtuous found their Guilt in my Quiet
the Enlightened glimpsed their Darkness in my Stillness
And so it came to be that natural outcome,
society receded from me
Most Honorable Sir, it was not I that left it…
And ah, here you find me now,
insignificant, part of the whole, still, and as content
as the dust that you might find on a blade of grass
amidst the natural wideness that is here…

so this neutron walks
into the local convenience store
and grabs 3 cans of beer
and says to the girl at the counter;
“So how much do I owe you?”
The girl smiles:
*“For you, no charge”

I have no appetite
for pronouncements, platitudes
declarations, meditations and revelations
no patience for wisdom
and cogitations and much worse
regurgitations
no stomach for moanings and
groanings
musings, and working out meanings
much less about how your groin is today
I'd just like to
(like Renoir,  if I may,
just focus and work)
not to be anything,  no attempt
to be
just what is natural and easy
play and laugh
and when it's time
just *yawn and sleep

there’s that flower
the ancient rock by the street
we come of a village
a sinuous path
that leads to the next
but our village has no name
it is not of specifics
there is no history here
no identity to cling to
and no exotica to marvel over
it’s all the same to us
your village or ours
and we welcome with palms open;
there’s no dogma or Heavy Books
on our tables
we start with no musings
and we shape no theology
and grand ideas
all that we have is clarity
that blooms and withers, only to bloom again
no  affiliations, no special-ness
and it is the clouds
and the earth we read
in our village
in our homes
that go by no name or labels
and no exotica to marvel over
it’s all the same to us
your village or ours
and there’s that flower

SCHOOL PROJECT: INSTRUCTIONS

^)
SUBJECT AREA: Life cycle
TOPIC: Destruction
Project instructions:
^)
In a group of 5
pick a planet
in the ******* Zone
^^)
Destroy
the planet
and all in it
^^)
Return to school
^^^**# before dismissal


Project report submission
^)
Free Play:
No report
^^)
Result: report your result
in minimalist style



STUDENT GROUP PROJECT REPORT

^^)
SUBJECT AREA: Life cycle
TOPIC: Destruction
Student Report (Minimalist): Destroy Planet

^) We picked planet Earth
^) We used TErWOp Pointer;
burned Planet Earth in seconds;
ashes in URN(^--+^)
collected using DYUarmprong
We had full insight, life-cycle

How long do you reckon
it'll take you to read a book
say, of a thousand pages?

Well, it took the intellectual
six months to read, thinking
and considering every page and idea;
the writer took about five months
taking in the aptness and beauty
of each phrase and word;
the teacher took three months,
the librarian two and so did the reviewer -
*but the student,  the student did it in just one night,
just the night before the final exams...

well, Eve was sitting calmly
eating a few leaves off a basket
(spinach, for example, has plenty of iron)
and Adam was alarmed
(Oh, he absolutely adored her!)
and he exclaimed:
*"Eve - you think that's the salad I
promised to make you, don't you?
That's my ***** laundry!"

See, Nasrudin sits eating
dates…
Oh, but do you see?
Nasrudin eats the seeds too…

O Nasrudin, Nasrudin
why do you eat the seeds as
you eat the dates?

O, says Nasrudin,
*because the merchant who sold me the dates
also charged me for the seeds

Sohni’s heart pines
for Mahinwal
for she loves
him beyond all things earthly
By day she paints flowers
on the pots her father makes
O Sohni’s heart is always filled with love
And by night
she swims across
with a *** to help her float
and she goes each night thus
to meet her forbidden love

O Mahinwal’s heart
that herder of cattle
his heart too is filled with love
and he has given up his name
and his land
for he is no longer Izzat Baig of Buhkara
but he is simple Mahinwal –
Sohni’s Mahinwal
O so full of love is he
day and night
for the beautiful Sohni

and how will this end?
O river that nurtures us – tell us…
O how will this forbidden love end? –
O fish and cattle and deer
and creatures of the river bank –
tell us, how this love will end…

come beasts
fat and well-bred
and positively yummy,
get in line and on the truck;
and here speedily at the abattoir
or your head on the chopping block
we in our infinite human kindness
we shall read you your animal rights:
You may stress out
on the conveyor belt;
and you may bleat or snort
according to your nature;
you may shake and struggle
and you may do
a final dance of trembling limbs before the slaughter;
and most important,
you have the right to remain silent…

I waited
sweetheart
and I have waited
but you have not come
I waited early
and I waited past
through the retreating light
and the late hours of the night
but you did not come
O I have waited
all eternity
but you are not
to be seen

I have searched after
at all the places
we met and where we picked flowers
and I searched past the hills where
we lay and dreamed of lives
and exchanged hopes and desires
and I walked in the paths and ways
and in the shade below the trees
but nowhere
sweetheart
you are nowhere to be seen
O I have waited
all eternity
but you are
still not come

though the moon glows
and the sun shines in its time
and the flowers bloom
and all things happen in nature's march
you, sweetheart,
you are not to be seen
you do not come

below are notes from various people (all imagined) to Karma...

NOTE 1
Dear Karma
You're doing a great job -
people are in deep **** as they deserve
But what I don't understand is -
why me too?

NOTE 2
Dear Karma
I've got a hit list
of people
you've missed

NOTE 3
Dear Karma
I can see so many ambitious
becoming downright failures
as they justly deserve to be -
but how come
I'm still at the bottom of the ladder?


NOTE 4
Dear Karma
Life's not fair  -
I punched the guy next door
straight on his tummy
and he broke my arms and legs


NOTE 5
Dear Karma
You're somewhat erratic
I invited the beggars into my house
and they stole everything
Is that how it's supposed to work?
I don't see my reward in this;
I don't even get to be famous like Mother Teresa

NOTE 6
Dear Karma
All the baddies
are doing well
but why does a good guy
like me fare so bad?


NOTE 7
Dear Karma
You can do no wrong
as you're keeping things exactly
as they should be -
I'm doing superb;
everybody else is ******* up
That's the way I like it

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?

Poetry and poverty go together, the saying goes; this poem explores this bleak idea. The narrative is set in an ancient Chinese context.**



Old Man Poet
you’ve grown a rich self
while your body grows weary
and your vision fades;
all your friends
Old Man Poet
have hoarded silver and gold
and all you’ve done
is to sing and grow old

you’ve not accumulated
and you’ve not gathered
though the dust gathers on
your scroll of poems;
your songs are stolen and sung even now
in distant villages
but passed on in new names
Ah, Old Man Poet
you’ve discovered too late
and don’t care though
nobody pays for poetry
and nobody reads such stuff
unless it’s flattery and free;
and though your songs may live
after you die
and they might sing it over your grave
and though villagers may sing it
as they sow and reap
it will all go in the wind
anonymous and unknown
all that when you die, when you die,
Old Man Poet, Old Man Poet -
but now, just days more
when you are frail
who will feed you, who will take care of you,
Old Man Poet, Old Man Poet?



ah, Old Man Poet
your neighbors call you useless;
your friends ask you if you need handouts
and your wife mocks you
and your children pour scorn in your empty bowls
and still you sing your songs
and you sit in marketplace corners
and you sing with your er-hu
and still you sing of sunsets and sunrise
and the rise of empires and the end of loves -
but who will feed you, Old Man Poet?
what will you do when
they put you in a corner when you’re too weak
and there’s no one to wipe the ******* your pants?



Old Man Poet
you’ve grown a rich self
while your body grows weary
and your vision fades;
all your friends
Old Man Poet
have hoarded silver and gold
and all you’ve done
is to sing and grow old

OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….
O moon, pale and alone
like me
O inhabitant in deserted skies
as I in lonely wilds
with my ghost baby;
let us put a charm together
a curse on men who betray their wives
and who put their seeds in young unwise girls
and run away
and hint the naive could **** themselves and their babies
OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….
O moon, pale and alone
listen to my tale:
a charmer
dazzled my mind
and put his seeds in my womb;
and he told me he loved me
but he had other duties
and he said I should be ashamed
for being such a loose woman
and I should **** myself
and so take my baby within me
OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….
O moon, pale and alone
feel the pain and horror in my mind
as I am doomed to deliver this script
night and night in this wilderness
Behold this infant I hold in my hand
this ghost of a baby
that has never seen life
******* at my milk-less white breast
OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….
O moon, pale and alone
come, let us put a charm together
a curse on men who betray their wives
and who put their seeds in unwise girls
and run away
and hint the naive **** themselves and their babies
OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….
O moon, lend me your strength and power
let us weave a curse, let us cast it over such he-devils:
May their genitals rot
eaten by vermin;
may their eyes be eaten by giant flies;
and may their evil turn
into sharp-teethed ravenous worms
and stampede inside their bodies
and eat all their internal organs
and may these huge-bellied worms
eat every nerve and eat their brains part by part
O may such men die in pain, in madness
before their very wives
Lend me your power
lend me strength
and curse with me
O moon, pale and alone
like me
inhabitant in deserted skies
as I in lonely wilds
with my ghostly baby
that has never seen life
OOOOhhhh…..eeeeee…..oooeeeeeyoooo….

1
Susan visits May
and May gasps,
looking out the window:
Hey! Oh no –  that’s my husband
walking here with my lover!

Oh my God, exclaims Susan
that’s exactly what I’m thinking!



2
Little Tommy is outside
crying in the street
and Old Margie walks by
and she says to the crying boy:
Hey, why the tears?
And little Tommy says:
My parents are inside the house
and they are fighting.

Old Margie scratches her head
looks close
and asks: Who’s your Dad?

Oh, says Little Tommy,
*that’s what they are fighting about

I caught the art thief -
he was a mastermind really
for he got such precious paintings
out of the Louvre easily
The amazing thing was
I caught him just minutes
from the museum;
his Econoline van
- would you believe it? –  ran out of fuel

Sure I asked him how
he could make such a mistake
steal so much treasure
and run out of gas just meters away

And he sighed with a Picasso face:
*"Oh ****, Monsieur!
I’d no Monet
to buy Degas to make
the Van Gogh…”

This ghost was thinking:
do I exist in my own world
or do I only exist
in the human world?
if humans do not see me
do I exist,
or do I exist only
as they experience me?

And it thought so hard
it went up in a cloud of smoke -
****! - just like that
and ceased to be, from that moment

*Poor ghost,  it never found out the answer
And a human died and became a ghost
to take its place
and so it goes

this poem
took aim
to be the best poem
in the world;
it had no purpose
but to win the title
and so only got worse
and became verse
and descended into prose
which in turn became toast
and today it languishes
in the pages of cyberspace
lost, floating like a ghost
wandering like a goat
neither here nor there
neither this nor that;
and pundits
who took a while
their noses off their obsessions
put on their expertise
and have now declared this poem
with very grim looks
the worst:
a sort of outcast to live outside of Parnassus,
an untouchable
to serve King Midas

1)
There are three letters
which form strange company -
that's, let me announce them:
C, P and E
(audience claps; C, P and E bow)

2)
Which word
(this may sound a little twisted)
begins and ends with the same one letter of the three -
and yet, impossibly, has only one letter?
That's E - as in an envelope, see?
and it's only got one letter!
...ha,ha...he, he, he...
(audience laughs, E grins)

3)
And now, of these three -
C, P and E -
which holds most water?
(audience, please,  look puzzled)
Why, C - C has the most water, see?
...he, he, he...
(wave of tolerant laughter sweeps over the audience)


4)
And now for the finale
(audience shows signs of impatience;
C, P and E appear nonchalant):
What starts with the letter P
and ends with the letter E
and - wait for this -
has thousands of letters?
da, da, di, da, da, di, dum...hmmm?
well...the....POST OFFICE!
(the audience does not laugh
as most nowadays
don't know what a post office is -
just look at each potbelly;
C, P and E nevertheless take a bow)

-----------------------------------------
(audience heaves sigh of relief
as they leave)

under the birches one may sit
under the trees
perhaps on a rock, a stump
in the quiet
in the solitude
in this light
The Japanese umbrella by one’s side
One in one’s best clothes
here may one sit
in one’s time
as if all of life has been a journey
to this single point, to this one place
One on one’s own, having come into the world so
and all relationships and realities coming to this
in the midst of this, one may sit
with the light, and colors and with the earth
and the sky and the water
as if finding one’s place in this life, on this radiant earth
amidst the breathing trees and the creeping moss and lichen
one may come to one’s poise and silence
a moment beyond thought and emotion
one coming into one’s own
a transcending of pain and disquiet
a coming into peace, into stillness and seeing it all
all things, all movement, seeing all as it is

Tom of Bungles Company places an order
and  Bond of On-the-Ball Company calls back
and he tells Tom:
“Hey, listen…You’ve ordered another two shipments
of the goods? Look, you haven’t paid for the previous 4 orders
and we can’t ship your new order till you pay for the previous four”

“Oh,” says Tom of Bungles Company
quick and snappy
*“Cancel the order then
We really can’t wait that long”

Zushio
my son
where are you now?
Anju
most delicate flower
where do you rest your head?


Zushio
strident and strong
are you still alive
and do you
think of your mother?
O son
do you keep your father’s words
and do you look after your little sister?


Anju my delicate love
where do you blossom now?
Your presence always fills my heart
but you are not where
I may hold you, my lovely child


O Zushio
are you with your sister?
do you still care for her
and does Anju grow to be strong
and  brave?
O Zushio - is Anju within your shadow
or has fate parted even the two of you
as it has parted us all?


Zushio
my son
where are you now?
Anju
most delicate flower
where do you rest your head?

Let us pull, pull the boat,
young man…
away from the waters
safe on to land
just the while perhaps till the morning
and pull, young one…take a deep breath and pull…
generations have worked and gone past exertion
and into a discovery of inner strength
and a sudden illumination perhaps
of the resilience within…
feel and pull - see, there’s the boat and you
and the forces and the ground
and there’s much within you…
there’s the mark of the effort
in your mind as footprints in the sand
pull, young one…safe to land – a little more
and a little more…
and we are come to completion, and you will see
within yourself
where the struggle, where the living
and all these days of our lives between earth
and the oceans begin and end…

whether it be day or night
when I am awake
I listen to the silence
and the whispers of the surrounds
to the snarls, the roars and the rage
to the creatures that are about, that may venture
I am attentive to the flowing streams
that laugh with the rocks
and to the mountains in their pensive mood
and the sounds of the house and its wood
and the growing elm, that are rich and green always
and I am witness to the sun,
and the moon and its companion stars
and the day and night
and all shades and transitions
and all presence in the air
and I am witness to the creatures that come close, curious
and so to all quiet, to all activity and all life and movement
to all color and all seasons and all urgings and motion
and when it bids me sing of these
then in that consent, in that concord
I write down these words
I write these books of the surrounds
of these moments
that shall come into your hands
that you too may see, for yourself

If plants can communicate
so can planets

and so two planets started talking
and one said: How are you?

And the other replied:
I've got a medical condition -
the doctors say I've got
a serious case of **** sapiens

And the first one replied:
*Oh, never you worry about that;
I had the same condition
and it didn't last long

wagtail sits
on sparse branch
ample space and clear all round
wonders outward
feels within
content in its place
satisfied with its lot;
a worm today
and some seeds in the evening;
a quite and safe spot at dusk
and rest and sleep when it is time

I can spill
well and good
Can you spill?
Let me advise you
you should learn
how to spill -
and to spill well
You see, a lot of people can’t spill
and so we know they are not educated
But if you can spill
like me
so well and so good
and when people read what I write
they know straight away
I’m educated, very well educated
So you see I can spill
and so I’m known all over the world
as educated and polished
and let’s not forget, refined
So can you spill?
If you can’t,
never fear
we are all friends here
I can help you –
I will send you a CD, a DVD and a guide book
and other educational material
(Yes, all written and produced by me –
I told you I’m educated, and polished!)
so you can learn to spill like me
Of course nothing’s for fee –
you must pay me a free
and once I got your money
I will send you all the material
And you can start to spill
just like me!
And all the world
will ask you:
“Oh how did you learn to spill
like this? ”
And you can tell them:
“There’s a learned man Down Under
the famous Raj Arumugam
(Oh, have you never heard?)
and he taught me how to spill
But of course he made me pay a free
for Raj Arumugam as a matter of wise policy
never gives anything for fee
and now you see
I can spill just like Raj Arumugam
both us with much pride and glee
So I can spill. Can you spill?
No? Shame on you! ”

it is written in the Olde Booke of Life
that when the Lion went unto the wild
to have its fill, when first it felt Hunger
the King of Beasts saw two creatures:
a human, under a tree, reading a book;
and a human, under a tree, writing a book
and the Lion ate the reader
for its inner voice told the King of Beasts:
"Eat the reader - for that is digestible;
but partake not of the writer
for it is susceptible to cramps
and worse, may cause a block"

And since then hath the Lion
lived in this wisdom:
*Eat of the reader, never of the writer

See, do you see?
free cat roams
free cat lives its multiple lives
curly tail and rich fur and shiny eyes
across the Korean landscape of Jeong Seon;
and do you hear?
Free cat purrs:

*“it’s nice, dear Cat God
to be free and open
and I like it I owe you no obedience
unlike those miserable humans;
in your wisdom
you make crickets and large insects appear
and I make them disappear –
you and I are equal partners in the cycle of life,
dear Cat God;
and a rat in the wild
and some water in a secluded pool
and all these fresh air and hidden nests
I like all that, I like it this way
(And I don’t a give a meow or cat-**** for humans
and their elegant cats lying on cushions)
And of course,
when the passion seizes me
in here in the open,
there’s always a ***** cat, ready and wet
and we wail and meow all night
Hey Cat God -
I like it this way, feral in the wild”

Say "Hello"
to the Full Stop
before it shuts you down

Say "Hello"
to
the American period
the definitive full stop that says: "That’s it, folks!"
in other words
it says: "Enough!" "That’s it!"
" I’m done!" " I’m finished!"
But some people never get that, do they?
they just keep going on;
but now I’ll take my cue
and say no more.
FULL STOP.
PERIOD.

always wanted a part
in a film
so I asked a director if he'd give me a break
and the director told me: "Break a leg"
and I thought he'd meant me to get
experience for a disaster movie
(sort of Stanislavsky's method acting)
so I did

but I never got a part;
the director just laughed and waved me away -
but at least I was in the cast for weeks

can anybody see
poetry in paperwork?
(You can?
You work for the Tax Department,
don't you?)
Well, I can't see
beauty or poetry in paperwork
especially that which has accumulated;
but I'd better pretend
to see beauty in the paperwork
or many departments here
will rear an ugly face each at me

so beauty, O Paper Beauty,
no, not you multi-dimensional origami
but piles of paperwork,
here I come...Bury me.