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3.9k · Sep 2010
Colbert Report: Australia
Raj Arumugam Sep 2010
Talk-show queen
Oprah Winfrey with her entourage
is going to Australia
and it’s timely now for a quick Colbert Report
on the state of the colony of Australia
Colony?
Yes, that’s right
Australia is still a British colony -
How else do you explain it?
as the Head of Government in Australia
is still the British Monarchy
and her Majesty, the Queen of Great Britain,
has her representative
a Governor-General in Australia;
and the Aussie national media faithfully reports
that Prince Philip is a God in some remote island
and the TV stations broadcast visions of
which British Prince kissed which of their latest fancy
And so, Oprah, welcome to the Colony
Ah, yes, and the Chinese migrants coming in
are surprised to learn of Australia’s status
at citizenship ceremonies
and the young man explains to his grandma:
“Oh, Foreign Devil still control Australia;
sad, Chairman Mao did not Liberate Australia.”
And Indian migrants, much to their disappointment
are heard to remark:
“Oh no – does this mean we still have
to go through another fight for freedom as in 1947?”
But then they are consoled by the fact
that a Gandhi only comes once in 200 years
so we can all still get on with our lives
and the nation will continue
to eat burgers and enjoy barbecues and hop like kangaroos
until such things may happen…
Ah well, dear talk-show Queen Oprah Winfrey
and her entourage
this ends our report on the sovereign nation down under:
Happy Stay in Her British Majesty’s Colony
Raj Arumugam Aug 2013
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!”
...poem based on an online joke....
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Owl slept in the tree’s hollow
but the silly Grasshopper
on the branch outside
made incessant noise

‘Kind Sir,’ said Owl,
‘would you stop singing
and allow me to sleep?
I’m nocturnal
and sleep by day
and so I need some quiet now.’

Grasshopper
looked proud
and rubbed its hind femurs
against its fore-wings
and it said:
‘Ah, Sir Owl -
Eminent Naturalists have come
to record me make my most melodious songs
and they kept away, if you must know,
from your uncouth hooting!
So I will continue singing
and you may live in envy if you like.’


‘Oh it is most true,’
said Owl.
‘You sing most wonderfully
and I but screech.
But come in and I have
a potion
that the Goddess of Song
has just given me
that will soften my hooting
and bring your song to perfection.
You already sing like a sensation,
O Highly Sought-After Grasshopper –
you’ll be even more appreciated after….’



And straight Grasshopper
with a magnificent leap
jumped to Owl’s home;
and straight Owl ate the singing insect
and indeed Grasshopper
was even more appreciated after….




And it is whispered in the forests
Owl’s hooting improved
due to a certain potion
Owl had acquired
from the Goddess of Song
3.7k · Feb 2014
donkey at the cinema
Raj Arumugam Feb 2014
the other time
my donkey insisted
I take it to the cinema
and so I did -
not that I got a kick out of it
but just so that I didn't get a kick

anyways
we were watching the movie
when the guy seated next to donkey
said: "Hey, you're a donkey.
What 'r' you doing in the cinema? "


And donkey replied:
*" I reviewed the book;
now I'm here to review the movie"
...and so ends the current series on 'my' donkey...
3.7k · Nov 2011
rice cakes or cheese?!
Raj Arumugam Nov 2011
Rice cakes!
****!
Rice cakes for dinner, rice cakes for lunch!
Rice cakes for breakfast!
****!
Don’t they have anything else in this house?
house after house we’ve lived in Nihon*
and all we get to steal from our honorable
but ignorant human hosts
is rice cake and more rice cake...
I hate living in Nihon!
You know, I hear the Dutch and the British
and the Americans give cheese to their mice
even on their ships -
but rats! - what do we mice get
in our honorable land of the rising sun?
Rice cakes!
****!
Rice cakes for dinner, rice cakes for lunch!
Rice cakes for breakfast!
****!
Look - I don’t know about you - but I’ve had it!
I’m leaving Nihon forever
and I’ll jump onto one of these ships
that now more commonly visit Nihon’s shores
and end up in Britain or Holland eating cheese
and live on a Mouse Cheese Pension maybe for the rest of my life,
O cheese! cheese! - rather that, you know
than rice cakes for dinner, rice cakes for lunch!
Rice cakes for breakfast!
And what are you so composed about?
Lying there on the floor, looking so pleased with yourself -
are you coming or no?
OK...you stay here and join some Zen temple
and eat vegetarian rice cakes all your complacent and placid life -
but I’m going this very night
to the West
to feast and dine on cheese,
like an English gentleman perhaps, all my life...
1. “Nihon” is the casual name for Japan. Poem based on drawing “Mice in Council” by Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1840); drawing now in Library of Congress, USA.
2. Looks like both the mice got out of Nihon - the painting is now in the US, where I understand, the 2 mice have been eating cheese since they moved and processed cheese since Kraft Foods in 1916...
Raj Arumugam Mar 2012
1
He'd love her
and then the coldness
of marriage took love
away from him
and the coldness turned into suspicion
and then into an obsession:
and she was an inconvenience

he murdered her a Friday
night
suffocated her with her pillows
it was easy;
like Othello did
but she was no Desdemona;
and he heard her whisper with her last breath:
"I'll have your eyes"
he cut her up in manageable parts,
and buried her below the floorboards
in the study

2
It is a year later
and he is at the computer
and far below lies parts of his wife
but now his wife is smiling
she's on screen
smiling like a Greek Goddess
and he sits transfixed
and she says:
"You are Oedipus, darling -
I will have your eyes"

She is smiling
He is willing
Beside the printer are paperclips
He undoes two
She beckons; she smiles
and she whispers
that same deathbed whisper:
"I'll have your eyes"
And he is Oedipus
Just paperclips will do
He gouges one eye out
And he gouges the other too
It is easy


She lies deep below
below the floorboards;
She need whisper no longer
And he is become Oedipus,
eyes gouged,
blind like the Greek Homer
3.5k · Jan 2013
bad joke by the senior boy
Raj Arumugam Jan 2013
Older boys telling younger boys “bad” jokes is part of the traditions in schools, much as the guardians of Elite Schools might deny it…here’s something that happened in the 1960s, and perhaps before too, and perhaps always….


“Who’s the best person to marry
when you’re grown up?”

asks the Senior boy
(with his double entendre)
in the shed behind the canteen


three juniors shrug their shoulders
and then one ventures: “Marry a traffic cop?”
“No,” answers the Senior
“Never marry a traffic cop
cos at the crucial moment she’ll say: ‘HALT!’”

Some boys laugh, one or two innocents scratch their heads

“I’ll marry a doctor,” says another
“Yeah?” says the Senior
“At the crucial moment
she’ll be saying: ‘OK -
you can put on your clothes now!’”


Now the juniors laugh;
they are getting wiser
but still an innocent says:
“I’ll marry a bus conductor”
“Oh no, no,” says the boy Senior
“She’ll be insisting: ‘Ticket, please! Ticket, please!’”

“I’ll marry Susan at the canteen
where she makes the best
sandwiches for all those who hunger,”

says the boy, obviously from a very charitable home
“No, no,” says the Senior. “She’ll be roaring:
‘Who’s next? Who’s next? Who’s next?’
And you’ll have all the men
within three miles
queuing up at your doorway!”



The juniors have gotten too smart now
Nobody offers any other possibilities
But innocents die hard
and there’s one last little boy:
“I’ll marry my teacher!”
“Well, isn’t she the best,” says Senior
“for at the crucial moment,
she’ll be saying:
‘Do it again! Do it again!’”


Now, the boys enjoyed it all; the girls never heard it, except when they married these initiates…and all the eminent people in the professions have been none the wiser…
Don't blame me...it was the Senior boy who said all that...and he cast a spell over me, with the power of the Ancient Mariner, to repeat it at the most odd moments...Yes, if you must know, I did end up marrying my teacher...
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
why are you vegetarian?
the friend asked
don't you like chicken and burgers?



dear friend*
I said
*it is all just how I relate to life and the world;
I look at a tree and at the clouds and I see their beauty;
I meet you and I am happy to sit and talk about things;
I see the animals and creatures
and I admire the way of each
and am awed by the uniqueness of each...
that is simply the way I relate to the world
3.5k · Nov 2014
hyena kid hates school
Raj Arumugam Nov 2014
I hate school
because teacher Giraffe is always
picking on me
in his high and lofty manner
He's always pointing at me
with his prehensile tongue
and snorting: "Maybe you'd
like to stop laughing
and share your joke
with the rest of animal class?"


But I don't know no joke;
I just laugh
3.4k · Oct 2013
my guide to investing
Raj Arumugam Oct 2013
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…
WARNING: The author cannot be held accountable for any investment insights you may extract from the poem. The author is also not to be held accountable for the veracity of any fact(s) you may pilfer from the poem for use in your hugely overdue The Human Body, Science Project. Proceed at your own risk.
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Snorers all
scattered world-wide
in offices and homes
in boardrooms
and bedrooms;
O Snorers all
loud and clear
low and shrill -
listen ye
to the loud wake-up call
as from Rip Van Winkle's Snore

stand up united
and drown the howl of protests
against snoring that is surely no less divine
than the Chorus of Angels in Heaven -
for the great God who made the Aurora
no doubt also conceived of the Divine Snore!


and so, stand up, ye sonorous Snorers!
unite! I call unto ye!
unite against the detractors
and the critics
and the complainants
and those of low culture
who cannot
lie still and listen to Snoring
as one rightly would at a concert hall
listening to the delightful play
of a quartet of violins


O how long will you take it lying down,
ye blessed Snorers of the World?
let the world know
the first divine music was indeed the Snore;
and the very height of human communication
is the unabashed snore
for all other modes of communication
lead to mis-communication
but the language of the snore is always exact and crisp!
the message of the Snore always precise!
the meaning always loud and clear!
and the very height of the snore
(let us declare to the world)
is the couple in bed
snoring away together
beside each other
making such divine music
making love with the rolling thunder of snores
so that one might say:
do we have a couple of wild boars
copulating in the next room?




stand up, O Snorers of the World -
and defy the mockers
and those who seek divorce
on grounds of insufferable Snoring;
stand up against those who sue
for loss of sleep from
friendly, neighborly Snorers;
stand up now
against these losers, these whingeing nags
uncouth and untutored
in the mysteries of the art of the Snore!
stand up and with one loud blast of
a universal Snore,
with one melodious Snore
let us
drown their dissenting voices,
their unprovoked cacophonous complaints!
stand up, Snorers young and old!
unite, Snorers black, white and gold!
defy the world! O ye Snorers
of quite nights and of lazy days:
let us overwhelm the world
with the pleasing symphony of Snores;
let us bless the ears of the world
with the dulcet streams of varied notes and arias!
stand up! unite! - O much-maligned Snorers of the World!
with one voice raised
in a triumphant Snore
let us declare:
*No longer will we be silent!
Our voices will be heard!
3.3k · Oct 2010
a laugh song
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
laugh a day
laugh it now
laugh as loud
as you want;
it shakes up your body
lets good things flow
through your veins;
don’t think about it
just laugh a minute
or laugh a day
laugh long as laugh-time



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha



not the laugh of envy
or derision
or being superior
oh no, never that sort of laugh
but simple laugh
as laugh as laugh


not the laugh of victory
or of I-know-better
or see-I-told-you-so
but just the laugh of being
the laugh of life
the laugh of love
as natural as laugh



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha



I brought this laugh
for no rhyme or reason
I heard it in the oceans
and in the trees
and I got it free
so really there’s no fee
but I’d like you to pass
it back to me and I’ll
throw it back to you
like playing ball;
or you can pass the ball
to anyone anyway you like
this laugh as bright
as sun rays on ocean waves



you and I
come let’s laugh
ha ha ha ha
just like that
as two humans
alive and meaning well
ha ha ha ha
so, did you ha ha?
3.3k · Dec 2013
song about peanut butter
Raj Arumugam Dec 2013
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
...written in the ecstasy of having finished a slice of bread with peanut butter laid on thick...
CAUTION: the above poem should be taken with a pinch of salt, or peanut butter, as the case may be...
3.3k · Oct 2010
Socrates dies
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Socrates dies, sleep easy, dear Athens;
Socrates is found guilty
of asking questions,
one too many;
Socrates is subject to our justice
fair and just and open;
O Socrates dies, sleep easy, dear world,
for Socrates is found guilty
and condemned to die;
Socrates drinks hemlock
and
the questions die with him
and all our answers are safe
and we can blissfully go to bed
for all our fixed answers are safe!
Raj Arumugam Dec 2011
Prediction 1X^VVVKOOiii8889

In year 2012,
Honorable Sage of Peach Land says,
Man will prosper till end
but in last day 2012
Man will become Donkey
and Donkey will transform into Man
as happened in Ancient Hoary Past Year 201222334
- from “Ancient Honorable Heavenly Jade
Manual of Donkey and Man”
discovered just in time for 2012
3.3k · Jun 2013
robots misbehaving
Raj Arumugam Jun 2013
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?
...more jokes from online, rendered here in loose narrative form...
3.3k · Jun 2013
the fast food generation
Raj Arumugam Jun 2013
kids nowadays are noisy
and boisterous
and sure it’s tough  
keeping order and quiet in the classroom
like Mr Tough-Rules found out recently
when he screamed at the noisy class:
“Let’s have some order, children!
Order! Order!”


And Lil Susie turned round fast
and placed her order in rapid-fire time:
*“A burger and some chips, Sir!”
...another joke that was languishing in cyberspace, transformed now bright as golden chicken wings in your fast-food order...
3.3k · Feb 2012
boy talking to Mt Fuji
Raj Arumugam Feb 2012
Fuji-san
I'm bored and life's hard:
let me run away
The master makes me work all day
while his sons go to school
and learn writing and numbers;
and his daughters put on pretty dresses
and they play with dolls and flowers -
while all day I wash their clothes
and sweep the courtyard
and collect herbs for the Lady of the House
O Fuji-san -
you have great power
and you watch over all
so let me run away
And I shall run to Edo
And I'll work there
at the tea-houses
and I'll see fine gentlemen
and I'll see pretty ladies
and I'll work and earn and save
And one day I'll be a gentleman myself
So, O Fuji-san
let me run away

Clear my way
Fuji-san
and make it safe
and I shall go to Edo
and I'll be rich one day
and I'll come back here to you Fuji-san
and I'll bring you offerings of dumplings and flowers
So help me, O mighty Fuji-san
Let me run away
poem based on art print by Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849)
3.3k · Oct 2010
uncertainty
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
…uncertainty, my friend, I see uncertainty…
there are dark times,
though light comes first…
let me see: there are happy moments
and all things seem to fall in place
and desires gain momentum
and all things seem to come to fruition…
one reaches out, and grasps at what is before
and all round
and yet things that seemed so corporeal, so physical,
they melt and unravel like phantoms,
like images in the fog…
and I see uncertainty…a darkness moves over the screen,
as say shadows over a stage…
as shadows behind a puppet-show screen…
and there are smiles, friend…there is laughter
and joy and happiness…
and days of merry-making,
and love-making and fortune….
and uncertainty…there is an image of growth
and then death…
like growth in the fields and
then night and completeness
and brownness in the lands
which were green the day before …uncertainty, I see….
…there is uncertainty… do you see it too?
or is it brightness and radiance
always and always that you see?
it is like wading into a lake
to reach those edible plants that grow
a little towards the center
still close enough to reach without a swim
and one walks on firm land
and one is nearly there;
and then the mud and soil are soft
and break below one
and one falls and struggles in the water….a sudden fall...
...a sudden uncertainty…
I see uncertainty, dear friend…
but what do you see, dear friend…?
…there is uncertainty… do you see it too?
or is it brightness and radiance
always and always that you see?
Companion painting: Fortunetelling by Alexey Venetsianov
3.2k · Jul 2013
the Goldilocks zone
Raj Arumugam Jul 2013
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
"Terrestrial planets are also more likely to lie in the Goldilocks zone. Also called the habitable zone or life zone, the Goldilocks region is an area of space in which a planet is just the right distance from its home star so that its surface is neither too hot nor too cold. " - from How Stuff Works
3.1k · Sep 2010
did you die, Ophelia?
Raj Arumugam Sep 2010
did you die,
Ophelia?
did you drown yourself?
I heard you looked
pretty and glorious
in your best dress
and with flowers
all ready to meet your Maker;
they tell me it was so beautiful
one could only cry to see you in the water…
did you **** yourself
darling Ophelia
because I told you to go join a nunnery?
did you think
your love’s words
meant a nunnery is the same as death
and so honored mad Hamlet’s words that way?
you could have chosen a drier type of death,
you know – though death by drowning,
dearest Ophelia,
dying in a stream and being wet
you save the living the trouble of washing you…
did you die, did you drown
darling Ophelia
thinking
Poor, poor Hamlet is gone mad…?
…thinking….
There is nothing left when a noble soul
goes insane…
did you die,
Ophelia?
did you drown yourself?
or is that just some new fashion you’ve invented
darling Ophelia
of taking a beauty bath?
Companion picture: Ophelia by John Everett Millais
Raj Arumugam Nov 2011
Bare stage. A square neon sign on extreme right which reads: “This way to Heaven”.
Prolonged silence. Enter Snail, moving very slowly throughout the play.


Snail:
I’m a dead snail.
I’m going to Heaven.

I’ve lived for 15 years.
That’s a ripe old age.
I’ve been blessed.
Had a marvellous *** life, you know.
Well, if you know snails
we attract a mate with our slime.
Oh, slime turns me on, baby.

(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)


Well, maybe I should focus on holy thoughts.
Purity...refined thoughts...you know...
Snail God does not like ***.
Copulation is not exactly what
Snail God meant when Snail God declared:
"Go forth and slime the world;
be ye together..."
Snail God demands purity
so let me be so...
after all, I’m going to Heaven...
a dead snail and moving on to Heaven...

(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)

Had a precarious life,
you know,
all these 15 years...
A farmer saw me in the grass.
I heard him curse
and he raised his foot to crush me.
Well, unfortunately for him
he stepped on a snake
and the last I heard of the man
was an expletive
and the last I heard of the snake was a hiss.
Yes, I’ve had a long life
a risky life - but it’s all worth it
for an eternal life in Heaven
is my reward

(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)



(Enter Frog, jumping. Snail looks at Frog in amazement. And Frog stops and looks at Snail in amazement.)

Frog: What are you doing?

Snail: That’s what I was about to ask of you.

Frog: I’m a dead Frog and I’m jumping on my way to Heaven.

Snail: I’m a dead Snail and I’m moving on to Heaven.

Frog: This is ridiculous.

Snail: Indeed. It is ridiculous.
           A Frog going to Heaven?
           No, for it is truly declared by Snail God:
            
"None but Snails shall enter Heaven."

Frog: And in the words of the Frog God:
           *"I shall confound all other creatures.
              Only Frogs shall enter Heaven."

             And so it has come to pass
            Snails think they can go to Heaven.
           Unless the Frog God
           in Its Infinite Wisdom
          has arranged for a Dish of Snails
         when all Pure Frogs are at Its side in Paradise.
         Well, Snail...you’re toast when I see you in Heaven.

(Frog jumps on to near stage right, screaming: “Heaven - here I come!” and then disappears.)

(Long silence.)

Snail (facing audience): Well, what next? - The snake to Heaven?
                                          The Farmer to Heaven? His dog to Paradise?
                                           Donkeys to Heaven?


*(Snail moves on , in its slow way, to nothing but Heaven...)
the second of 3 one-act tragicomedies...also read my previous poem: hide and seek (a tragicomedy)
Raj Arumugam Nov 2014
it's woman power here
in the clans of the spotted hyenas -
the women are bigger and the males fear;
fathers are kind to daughters
so at least the daughters will be nice to them

so women really just give orders
and the male hyenas obey
with mirth and laughter

Did you take the garbage out?
yeah, ha, ha, ha, yeah, yeah, yeah
Did you put the toilet seat cover down?
yeah, ha, ha, ha, yeah, yeah, yeah
Have you mopped the floor?
yeah, ha, ha, ha, yeah, yeah, yeah
Is dinner ready on the ground?
*yeah, ha, ha, ha, yeah, yeah, yeah
information in first stanza on spotted hyenas from wikipedia
Raj Arumugam Nov 2014
I got a hundred shoes
in pairs, of course
and a wardrobe fit for a Princess
I got the bed
carved with gold trimmings
from the best end of town;
and a range of the best wigs -
all human hair,
third world crop no doubt
but at first world cost for sure


that all took me into bad debt
credit card and all
so when debonair James
asked me to marry him
I grabbed him lips to lips -
now he's paying through his nose



MORAL of  TODAY'S POEM
so those of you guys
who are naive
you get caught;
those who are smart
you better use your head
before you put your knees on the floor
poem 2 in a series of 3 tongue-in-cheek cautionary poems on guys and gals and relationships
poem 1: silly girl/poem 3: nothing will ever change
3.1k · Jun 2013
know your brain
Raj Arumugam Jun 2013
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
...mostly jokes from online sources...some dark humour too from neuroscience...I do claim some brainwork, transforming the jokes into verse...there's an art in stealing ideas, you know...
Raj Arumugam Feb 2012
Nero kicks Vespasian

1
Nero plays the lyre
He’s Emperor
so all must admire
but Vespasian goes to sleep
so Nero exiles Vespasian
and poor Vespasian now minds the bees

I am the Emperor
and all must admire
when I sing
or play the lyre
for I’m also a god...





Time kicks Nero*

2
But Nero goes to extremes
Rome burns, Nero kills
and soon events turn against him
and the Senate declares him
Enemy of the State
and Nero kills himself;
and the beekeeper Vespasian
through events played staccato by time
becomes Emperor Vespasian
and begins construction of the Colosseum

And Emperors too die
and I think I’m dying
Hey - help me up
for an Emperor must die on his feet
And hey! you know what?
I think I too am becoming a god!
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
When I was a little boy, say when I was six, my dad calls to me and he says: Come, boy – let’s sit in our courtyard; let’s sit below the stars and I’ll tell you a story. It’s been told long in our village, and passed on from wise fathers to growing sons.

Long ago, goes the story
Farmer Somu wanted
his daughter Meena to marry
the Strongest in the world
and so he set out on a journey
with his daughter
to seek the World’s Strongest One

And what were they going to do, little boy? says my father to me. They are going to look for the Strongest One, I say; and my father says: Ah, you clever son of a clever man.

And when they walked
past the rice fields
they saw farmers
wiping their brows
and they said:
‘My, how strong the sun shines!’

‘Aha,’ said Somu, ‘I think
I’ve found the Strongest One.
Come, Meena,’ he said,
‘let’s talk to the Sun.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu asked the Sun?
And I say to my father: Oh Sun, Will you marry my daughter? And my father says, excitedly: Exactly! Exactly! Oh , you brilliant son of a brilliant man.

‘Oh Sun,
will you marry
my daughter
for she is the Prettiest
and you are the Strongest?’

‘But,’ said the Sun,
‘the cloud is stronger than I
for have you not noticed
how often the cloud
blocks me out
and I can’t do a thing
until he decides to move?’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu replied to the Sun?
Oh, you weakling Sun – I’m not even talking to you! comes my quick reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Weakling Sun
stand out of my way
and Oh you most powerful cloud –
will you marry my daughter
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest?’

And the Cloud replied:
‘But ah, I am not the Strongest
for the wind just blows me away!’

And what do you think, my clever boy, what do you think Somu did next? And I answer my dad: Well, dad - Farmer Somu drags his daughter Meena to the Wind. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘O Wind
you should marry
Meena who is Prettiest
in the world
as you are the Strongest.’

But the Wind replied:
‘Ah, you don’t know how Strong
the mountain is
for he blocks my way
and he breaks me down.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think was Somu’s reply to the Wind?
Oh, you useless Wind – I’m ashamed I even considered you! I reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Oh, you useless Wind
– I’m ashamed
I even considered you!’
said Farmer Somu
and he dragged his daughter along
to meet the mountain
and he said to the mountain:
‘Most Honored Mountain
I have heard of your strength
and so I have brought you Meena
who is the Prettiest.’

But the Mounatin replied:
‘Oh Sir, I am not deserving
of such a rare beauty
for the rat gnaws holes in my sides
and so is Stronger than I.’

And what do you think, dear son, says my father to me – what do you think Somu does next? And I reply quite impatiently: Somu takes his daughter to the rat? Exactly! Exactly! shouts my dad. Exactly, you brainy son of a brainy man!

And the Rat told Somu:
‘Alas, Sir
though your daughter
is most desirable
I cannot marry her
for the hyena is
far stronger than me
for he has eaten many of my family!’

And so they walk to the hyena, says my father to me. And what do you think Somu tells the hyena? And I reply: Oh hyena – marry my daughter for she is Prettiest and you are Strongest! And my father says: Oh you are right, boy! You are right – Oh you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘Sir Hyena
Most Revered Sir Hyena
do marry Meena
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest!’

And Sir hyena replied:
‘Ok. I ask for no dowry
just leave her with me
with no ceremony.’

And what do you think , asks my father, Somu did? And I reply: He left Meena with the hyena. And my father shouts excitedly: Oh, how right you are! How right you are! You clever child of a clever man.





And no sooner had Somu left
the hyena took Meena
to his cave
and he ate her all
skin and bone…
Ah what a tragic end;
what a horrid end…

And dear son, says my father to me, what is the moral of this story? Many, I say. But two are: Use your wits and stay alive. Never allow yourself to be dragged around. And my father jumps up and he is excited: Oh how right! How right! You brilliant son of a brilliant father!
And he turns to my mother who has joined us at the courtyard and he says:
See how clever our son is – he knows all the answers! Such a brilliant son of a brilliant father!

And my mother’s retort is swift: It’s not that he’s brilliant or you either. You’ve told him this story a hundred times, you silly man! And it’s always the same words! And I would have kicked my father if I were Meena!
a folk-tale I heard when I was a child
Raj Arumugam Nov 2014
so King Lion
summoned us for a meeting
and King sat on his throne
and before he started
the King looked in my direction
and he roared:
"Hyena - don't you dare laugh;
here in Council what we deliberate over
is no laughing matter"


And I ****** in my pants
(in a manner of speaking)
and sat throughout the meeting
trembling in fear, as it seemed
to the King -
but also because I had to keep
my suppressed laughter
rocking in my tummy
throughout the meeting
final in my current series of hyena poems...
3.0k · Sep 2012
peony lantern ghost
Raj Arumugam Sep 2012
(a traditional Japanese ghost story, re-told by Raj Arumugam)




Preamble

Ogiwara sits in his shed
alone, sad
only memories sustain him now
in the lonely hours of his nights

and now it is the night of the obon
and he hears the light feet of women
just outside on the grass
just below the willow

it is a woman with her peony lantern
and beside her
through his window
Ogiwara sees the beauty that weakens his heart
young Otsuyu he sees
and Ogiawara comes out and bows
and he invites them in
on this the night of the obon





What Onatsaku saw

I saw the ladies come every night
and the woman with the lantern
sat out at the deck
while the young one went in
and Ogiwara as happy as in times past

every night I saw them
come as gentle as divine beings
and before the break of dawn
as I prepared for work
I saw them leave
and Ogiwara sad, as he is always now



What an elderly neighbor saw

toothless I may be
but ‘m still sharp of faculty
and I saw these two w'men
one young, and a beauty as one from Edo
and every night Ogiwara received her
and last night I went by his window
and I saw ‘m naked in his room
and the w'man he was making love to
was but bones, bones and smiling skull
and the two were entwined
limb over limb
so close in love making
and the w'man he was making love to
was but bones, bones and smiling skull


What the priest did

And the priest came forth
And warned Ogiwara of the danger
The ravishing young girl
was the ghost Otsuyu
And a prayer he placed on the door
so she can never come in
even when invited in





Otsuyu’s song

O Ogiwara
my heart and flesh
yearns for you

on previous nights
you welcomed me in
but now you have doors
shut against me  
was all your love
false, false as our days?

O Ogiwara
my heart and flesh
trembles for yours

on previous nights
you cried as we made love
you cried that you had found
beauty and joy
but now you let me stand
crying out in the cold
was all your love
false, false as our days?

O Ogiwara
if I may not come in
open the door
and come with me



What the children saw

This morning we
went playing across the fields
and at the graveyard
And there in an open grave
there we saw Ogiwara’s corpse
breaking, rotting
but his blue cloak still round him
And we saw his corpse
embraced by a woman
but she was but bones, bones and smiling skull
and the two were entwined
limb over limb
and the skull-woman he was with
she hissed at us
and she said: *“Go away, children…Go away…”

and she was but bones, bones and smiling skull
(a traditional Japanese ghost story, re-told by Raj Arumugam) for companion picture google "Peony Lantern" or "Otsuyu"
3.0k · Aug 2011
Nasrudin riding his donkey
Raj Arumugam Aug 2011
1
Come, come all
O all neighbors and children
O come and gather in the streets
or be at your window
or at your door
O see Nasrudin on his donkey

2
O…see Nasrudin!
O…see his donkey!
O – Nasrudin is seated on his donkey!
O – see Nasrudin and his donkey:
donkey faces one way
and Nasrudin is seated
facing the opposite way!

3
O Nasrudin, why does donkey
face one way
and you are
seated facing the opposite way?

4
O, donkey and I cannot agree
which way we want to go -
and so neither follows the other!
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Come, we have a story, said the Old Man. Come, sit and I shall tell you all a little tale of a donkey, a boy and his father…and of strangers too…and many a busybody…
And the children sat round the campfire and the Old Man began his tale…*



One day
(and this is many, many
uncountable days ago)
Father called Son
and he said:
‘Son
you are grown now
into a fine young lad
and you must learn
how to buy and sell
and make a profit


‘So, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
in our shed’



2

And so Son and Dad
set out for the town market
across the sandy and rocky miles
and some way off
Dad grew tired and he said:


‘Ah, Son
this walk tires me and so
I shall ride the donkey
while you walk by the side;
so, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
that I shall ride’







3

‘**, **!
What do we have here?’
came a voice
as the Dad sat riding the donkey
while the Son walked by the side
‘A cruel father you are,’
said the Family Standards Officer
‘Get down, you grown man
and let the child ride!’

And the Father was ashamed
and so he let the Son ride the donkey
and he walked beside

And the Family Standards Officer
was extremely pleased
and he filled up his forms
and he bade the Father and Son safe journey:
‘Ah, this is another
success story
of the Family Welfare Dept
where conscience has won the day
and the Son rides the donkey
and the Father walks beside’








4
And the Father and Son are gone but a mile, a mile - when another interruption came their way, heading straight their way….


‘What do we have here?’
came a scream
and the Mandarin of the
State Morals Education
stopped the trio
and the Mandarin glared disapprovingly
at the boy riding the donkey and he said:
‘Where is your filial piety?
Know you not the son must do his duty
by the father?
Get off the donkey -
you young donkey!
and allow your father to ride
while you walk with reverence
and duty beside!’


And so now we have the
Father on the donkey
and the Son walking beside
all three slowly on and on
Father and son
to the market to see
what silver coins
they might get
for this old donkey
that they have taken turns to ride




5

Then comes an old woman
and she mutters to herself as she passes by:
‘Ah, what’s come of life
that a father should ride and
allow the young to walk.’

And so the Father bids his Son
be a pillion rider with him on the donkey
and so they ride
merrily, merrily
on to the market
to see
what silver coins they can get
for this old donkey
that they both ride





5

But no sooner have they covered
but a mile, just a mile
with the respectable Father
and the filial Son
(both on the hapless donkey)
when a voice thunders out from the bush
and the Animal Rights Activist stands out
and he screams:
‘Oh, you cruel people
that you should ride a helpless donkey !
Shame on you!
Much better that you both
carried the creature!’


And of course
the Son and Father
so reasonable and
always with an open mind
they jump off the donkey
and they carry
the donkey all the way
all the way
just four more miles
just four more miles
and they soon come into the market
carrying the donkey
and shouting:
‘Donkey for sale!
Donkey for sale!’




6

And the buyers
at the markets
they see
this Father and Son
carrying the donkey
and screaming:
‘Donkey f or sale!
Donkey for sale!’


And the buyers they say:
‘But it appears, Sirs,
there are
three donkeys for sale
three donkeys for sale!
In declaring
“Donkey for Sale!”
when there are clearly three
are you offering three
for the price of one?’
an Old Tale re-told - because we make the same mistakes again and again..
Raj Arumugam Jan 2012
1
in the fish market of religions
and faiths
and suppositions and declarations
and fierce revelations
much of the commerce is done
on the principle:
Who shouts loudest
and shouts longest
and shouts often-est
gets to empty the most pockets
of bewildered customers


(You always empty their minds
first)

2
You never lose in this fish market
Even the quiet ones
the ones of mild manners and timid ways
can trawl a good number
of faithful customers

3
You can sell fresh fables
or smelly old tales –
they are all good commerce

4
Of course some slap you
right in the face
with their fish:
That too seems to catch customers…

I think you stun them with one blow
and they remain stunted all their lives
2.9k · Nov 2011
Shintaro
Raj Arumugam Nov 2011
Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, O lover of justice

Shintaro walks with grace
Shintaro’s life is concentration
and quiet, peace and silence
Shintaro is skill and perfection

Shintaro is protector of child
woman and the poor and the orphans
the weak, the helpless
and of any who has been wronged

Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, O lover of justice

the ninjas come
like speeding stars
one after another
secret killers
with weapons of death
but none can beat Shintaro -
Akikusa Shintaro, master of peace and stillness
Samurai who sees with his being

Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, O lover of justice -
you live in time
you live in mind
a celebration of Koichi Ose as Shintaro in the 1960's Japanese TV series...
2.9k · Jul 2011
kung fu sex
Raj Arumugam Jul 2011
hey, before kung fu fighting
was kung fu ***;
emperors practiced it and
would have lived to be Immortals
if not for the darned traitors and assassins

Crane sees Phoenix
and in Plum Tree Garden of Scents
Plum Tree Arms
Encircle Double Mountains;
Pine Reaches for the Skies

Drunken Monkey Jumps
and Pheasant Sings
and White Pearl Slips;
Dogs Unite and Clouds Merge
Tiger Bites and Lion Roars
Grand Dragon Withholds

Jade Gate Opens
Jade Stem enters
Wild Boars stampede
and Cherry Blossoms Fall

Drunken Monkey Sleeps
White Pearl Smiles
Drunken Monkey Awakes
and Blue Pearl Awaits -
and again Serpent on Rock hisses;
Wheels of Legs Rotate


hey, before kung fu fighting
was kung fu ***;
emperors practiced it and
would have lived to be Immortals
if not for the darned traitors and assassins
no illustrations available; we leave it to your imagination
2.9k · Oct 2010
Willow, radiant willow
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
sing willow, slender willow
leaning willow
that brings a feel of smooth flow
that sways with songs of sweet sadness;
sing willow so gentle in the morning air
so graceful in the wind’s route;
sing willow, dance gentle now
with such ease
for us who have come by to see you
and to feel you breathing
companion painting: willows by Jin Nong (1687-1764)
2.9k · Sep 2010
little teddy bear lost
Raj Arumugam Sep 2010
Little Teddy bear
pink and cuddly
lying on the kerb
with the lights
of the cafes
bouncing off you

Oh who’s missing you tonight
crying for her teddy bear?
maybe it’s little Amy asleep
who dropped you
while her mum carried her
into the car?
and maybe now little Amy
cries in her room:
'Where’s my teddy bear?'
And Mom says: 'Oh, sweetheart;
sleep, maybe it’s in the car…
we’ll get it in the morning.'



Little Teddy bear
pink and cuddly
lying on the kerb
with the lights
of the cafes
bouncing off you


Oh who’s missing you tonight
crying for her teddy bear?
maybe it’s little Lin
who came visiting from Shanghai
and exchanged her panda bear
for an Aussie cuddly toy
and she’s in the airport now
and cries: 'I lost my Aussie teddy bear'
and they can’t find one at the airport
and Dad says:
'Don’t worry;
we’ll get you a new one
when we get home…'



Little Teddy bear
pink and cuddly
lying on the kerb
with the lights
of the cafes
bouncing off you
Raj Arumugam Sep 2014
1)
How many writers, asked a friend
(with a cheeky twinkle in his eye)
does it take to change a light bulb?

That's a dim-wit's question, I said
You should ask:
How many times will a writer
change the same light bulb?



2)
My non-writer friend
(his twinkle now dull, then dead)
scratched his head
and to enlighten him I shed some  light
on the subject:
A writer edits and changes
their work many times
to get it perfect;
and so the same thing happens
when you make a writer change the bulb


No, my friend did not appreciate
the illumination
above poem is a variation on that line of joke: "How many --------- does it take to change a light bulb?" - this one as applied to writers
2.8k · Jul 2012
azalea dance
Raj Arumugam Jul 2012
Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
on this fine, lovely day
and you - Oh, you came
shouting at me
and you threatened to call
for the men and the servants
to give me a beating

Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
and you started beating me
and you struck me on the chest
with your soft left hand
and then you let it slide down
And then you pounded me on my shoulders
with your gentle fists
and then you let them slide down
And now we are in this azalea dance
O this impromptu Dance of Azalea
between you and me
Your hand in mind
You in mock-aggression
and I now in complete realization
O this improvised Dance of the Azalea
just you and me, as we go round
and round

And what the end in your eyes?
I see, I see, I see it in your eyes –
a quiet corner below the rocks
a gentle spot, softened by grass and flowers
Oh you teach me this Dance of Azalea
Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
and you teach me the art of love
poem based on painting "A young boy plucking an azalea" by
Shin Yun-bok (Hyewon) (born 1758), Korean
Raj Arumugam Jan 2014
Yeah guys, just back from the doctor’s
Turns out he’s worked at Apple
and Samsung and such –
he’s really into technology and all that,
you know
the latest stuff, really
“The heart,” he pronounced,
“is really a technology”

anyway, he’s given me
a pacemaker for me heart
and the doc, he said also
it’s state-of-the-art technology
so I can also download apps for my liver,
kidneys and my bowels
if needs be
yeah, I really feel good
inside out and all the way down
Note written after Joe Adomavicia's and Timothy's comments:
This poem is based on a joke (dark humour, no doubt) I found online . I am fine and healthy. I thank Joe and Timothy for their concern about my health. Does it not do our hearts good to have friends like that who show concern for one another? (:
2.8k · Mar 2012
poets with no photos
Raj Arumugam Mar 2012
1
Hey blogger, poet...no photo, ha?
hmmm...no photo...
not even a nose, no eyes
no part or whole...well, that's OK, I guess...

I know there’s a reason - security, privacy...
Or maybe you’re actually
President Obama
masquerading here as a blogger
President Putin practising his English
seeking Russian ******* on the poetry front
Or a Chinese Politburo member
checking out if anyone from Falun Gong or Tibet is here
or a Coca-Cola spy
checking out what new drink
you can concoct for contemporary poets;
or maybe you’re Elvis Presley
retired in Risikesh
with a fair amount of hashish
and a daily dose
of the Anglo-Euro-American girls
who just don’t want to go home

so you don’t want your photo on;
we understand; that’s fine…


2
Or you're just a good woman
in some old-fashioned part of the world
who made a pact with your jealous husband:
OK, no photo, you can blog;
You put photo, you’re out!

And you poor thing, your mother-in-law
sits there during the
supervised half-an-hour
allotted to you at the computer;
and then gives a complete report
when your husband comes home:
She’s been talking to this strange man in Australia –
He’s got a South Indian name but he looks aboriginal

– and your husband turns to you
and he says Who is this idiot Raj Arumugam
you’re reading?
What's going on between the two of you?


Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?


3
Or all right, you take a shot
and for some strange reason
no picture ever turns out right;
it never captures the true you – does it?
(Come on, you can’t give the world
the wrong impression
of an ogre when you really look
better than the made-up
Bollywood or Hollywood heroes and  heroines)

Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?

4
Or maybe you’re just the best husband in the world...
You know – handsome, rich, secure government job;
does all the cooking at home and still manages to go
to work and earn decent money and
gets the wife some bed-coffee everyday
before you’re off to work - and so, you know,
your wifey doesn’t want to lose you so she says:
No picture, darling; blogging is OK;
all those international evil eyes looking at you
will make you sick
...especially people with glasses...

(when the real text, you and I know, is:
Oh gorgeous hubby of mine -
I don’t want to lose you to some blogging *****!
)


Whatever the reason or whoever you’re
fact is I'm human
and
I just can’t help wonder once in a while:
Hey, how do you look?


5
But then it doesn’t really matter –
your company’s good enough;
just look at your screen
and flash us all a smile
Fun verse dedicated to all bloggers without photos; also to those with phoney photos; and to those with outdated photos; and to those with photos digitally re-mastered...
The poem in its current form is updated from a prose-verse piece I wrote in 2007 and posted at some other site...They kicked me out there! No, just kidding - I survived there, and I know you guys here will love me even more after this poem...  (:
Raj Arumugam Aug 2013
(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?
This is one of those poems where I take a 'risk'...
1) ...just a good-natured dig on the contemporary practice of following but without a comment or clue... 2) I will be away for some time...back possibly early Oct... 3) I'm following this bull that's run into the bush...  4) You guys and gals all have a great time till then...
2.7k · Jun 2012
firebird
Raj Arumugam Jun 2012
it’s a wild life
of magic and tales
of light and radiance
dreams and darkness
firebird, firebird
will you bring it all for me?
firebird, firebird
will you transform all things for me?

what we dreamt yesterday
was once reality, what we never imagined
is current, and eats us day by day
desires fade and palaces appear
demons roar, and sirens kiss us
and induce *******,  and bless us with erections
firebird, firebird
let all whispers come real
firebird, firebird, firebird
let time stand still where I want it to be

clouds are rocks and earth is liquid
my flesh burns and the Princess of Far-off gyrates
Mean King objects and the Jester holds court
Kingdoms collapse and new ones come in their place
dreams, dreams, dreams die
and are re-born in the Heavens in Our Heads
*firebird, firebird
burn the ground
and let illusion and reality be one
firebird, firebird, firebird
let despair be hope, and love be lust
one the other, the other the one
poem based on artwork of the same title by Leon Bakst
from wikipedia: Léon Samoilovitch Bakst (Russian: Лео́н Никола́евич Бакст) (May 10, 1866 – December 28, 1924) was a Russian painter and scene and costume designer.
2.7k · Sep 2012
little Tommy in the trolley
Raj Arumugam Sep 2012
see little Tommy
no, you can’t see him in the trolley -
like a monkey
or a possum on the tree
he’s well-hidden
so expert, as mom
pushes the trolley
through the aisles
And then nimbly
he crawls out
and hangs by the handle
feet on the brackets
still hidden
and suddenly drops
on the floor
light as baby Tarzan
And Mom says: “Tommy!”
and Tommy laughs
and climbs back into the trolley
like a little Alexander on a metal Bucephalus
and there he stands commandeering
the trolley: “Cheese, mum! Lollies! Lollies!”
And Mum says to Little Tommy:
“Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!”
But little Tommy
he’s the Master and Commander
and pirate
but mostly the monkey
on the shopping trolley
down the aisles and down the corridors
and the food court
sliding and jumping and hiding
in his fantasy world of the trolley
see little Tommy -
no, you can’t see him in the trolley
like a monkey
or a possum on the tree
he’s well-hidden
so expert in the trolley
he so happily commands
...just the other day, saw this little boy in the trolley his mum was pushing...and the little one was so agile, so nimble, so fast and so in his own life of movement and joy...couldn't help but write this poem about this delightfully energetic child...
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
a strange day
it was full of strangers
when I went for a walk
with my spouse by my side


past the junction
a stranger shouted out to me:
“Help me!”
and I said quite readily:
“But I need help myself –
so how can I help you?”
and I continued on my walk
wondering at this strange world


past the 100-year-old tree
an octogenarian stopped me
and he said:
“Son, can you tell me which way
to Harvey’s Street?”
and I said to him:
“I don’t know Harvey
and so I don’t know his street;
and by the way, maybe you don’t know,
but I’m not your son….”

and past Kangaroo Point
a cheery stranger all teeth
he shouted to me:
“Good day!”
“Oh, great!” I shouted back.
“You may be having a good day
but I’m having a strange day,
I’ll tell you that!”

And past the Greehimn River
a helpless old lady said:
“Ah, kind man, could you pick up
that walking stick for me?
it’s mine and a young man
just now kicked it off my right hand”


And I said with no second thought:
“Oh, old woman
pick it up yourself;
your back is already bent
so half the effort is already there -
and you think I walked all the way here
so I can pick up a walking stick
for a strange old woman I don’t even know?”


and I turned to my spouse
who was with me
all the while and I said:
“Hmmm…what a strange day
with all these strangers…”
and my spouse answered speedily:
“Who are you, creepy stranger?
Why do you talk to me?”
And straight my spouse
walked off from me…


Hmmm…and indeed a strange day it was
with all these strangers one meets
and who walks so close beside
2.7k · Oct 2010
camellia, branch and bird
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
the camellias are held out
by a branch
as if to invite any passerby
to see the delicate flowers
and the beauty of it
and the silence of it
and the moment of it;
but it is a bird that comes by
that comes to sit on the branch
to come to no purpose it seems but to sit
as if to say to the branch
to show to the camellias and the branch
to point to the beauty of it
the silence of it
and the moment of it
as the bird sits on the branch
companion art piece: Camellia and a Lonely Bird, Zhou Shuxi, 17 th century, Qing Dynasty, China, Nanjing Museum
2.7k · Sep 2014
Grisham John stole paint
Raj Arumugam Sep 2014
Back in the days when
my friend Grisham John
started as a teenage artist,  he was poor
and had but onions and yogurt for meals;
and once he stole some paint
from the local corner shop

"Aha, caught you red-handed,"
said the cliche-infested store-owner
"Give me a reason
why I should not call the police"


"Well," said John Grisham
****-sure of his talent
"I can immortalize you as 'Scrooge in Red'
or 'Generosity in Psychedelic'
You choose..."


----------------------------------------------------­-----
so when Grisham John comes to
your town,  look out for,
amongst his exhibits:
*"Generosity in Psychedelic
with inset of Scrooge in Red"
2.7k · Sep 2012
observing bamboo
Raj Arumugam Sep 2012
it is the scene that comes to one
that opens its palms
like a child might open its own
in delight

the fingered-bamboo on slender arms
and the smooth waters flowing
like a sage’s long white hair;
and the rocks like pauses
and the terrain sliding, gliding down
not to be outdone by the river that flows –
it is the scene that comes to one
and one must come to it, and one observes…

one comes with no preconceptions
and without creed and theology
one leaves one’s history
and expectations and conditioning
and one sees what is before one…
to this one does not bring one’s opinions
and one’s past and emotions
and one’s beliefs and one’s dogma -
for to observe is to see, not to overlay
like laying carpets on mud
or marble tiles on the mansion floor…
one observes, one sees what is before one

and from this one does not take
opinions and memories and revelations
and dogma and emotions and similes and metaphors
…one observes, one sees…
…everything else is conditioning,
structure and formation…
poem based on painting “Bamboo”  by Xia Chang (circa 1441)
2.6k · Oct 2011
donkey or man?
Raj Arumugam Oct 2011
The evolutionist asks of Narudin
which is the wiser:
Donkey or man?

The donkey, naturally, says Nasrudin.

How is that? asks the evolutionist
surprised at Nasrudin’s quick reply


And Nasrudin says:
*The donkey never asks for more burden
than it can carry;
but man - ah, they ask for more
and take on more than they should
2.6k · Aug 2013
storm in a teacup
Raj Arumugam Aug 2013
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
"Ikkyū (一休宗純 Ikkyū Sōjun?, 1394–1481) (self-named: "Crazy Cloud") was an eccentric, iconoclastic Japanese Zen Buddhist monk and poet. He had a great impact on the infusion of Japanese art and literature with Zen attitudes and ideals." - note on Ikkyu from wikipedia
2.6k · Oct 2014
elephant parade
Raj Arumugam Oct 2014
Elephants come in colors
in elephant parade
If it’s green, you wait till it ripens
If it’s blue, you cheer it up
If it’s red
it's just like you and I -
it's probably embarrassed

And if you’re wondering what
you’re standing under -
gray, big and protecting you from the rain –
*it's an umbrellaphant
Poem based on various children's riddles
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