I was going on my walk
random and with no purpose
and I walked down the path
when this gumtree said:
“Hey, look at me! Look at me!
Don’t you dare ignore me-
Just look at me!
Don’t you think I’m pretty?”
I laughed and I said:
“Yes…yes…I’m sorry I ignored you…
Now that I look at you, yes, you’re certainly pretty –
and I’ll do better than look at you;
I’ll take a picture of you
and I’ll write words to go along”
And the gumtree stood straight
and gave a wide smile;
and then the cheeky gumtree looked
at the image in my camera and it said:
“You’re not a good photographer;
I hope you turn out better as a poet…”

so my little girl Joanne was sick
slight fever and just looking weak
so I took her to the doctor
a kind old man with a calm voice
and he looked at Joanne and he said:
"So what's bothering you, my dear?"

and Joanne answered
at lightning speed:
*"Anne, my little sis! She's always
wanting my lollies!"

Do elephants talk to each other?
of course they do -
they use an ele-phone
Well, they used to
(just like they used to make trunk calls)
now they use ele-mail

And like us, they send selfies:
the girls show themselves
naked in their mud bath;
and the boys rampaging through
what’s left of the forests

I went to this meeting
(when I was a kid)
of hyenas;
and the ritual
consisted mainly of laughing
and they laughed and they laughed -
you know, and I just didn't get it

I demanded an explanation -
but no fellow-hyena could explain it

everybody laughs
nobody knows why;
and now I am an adult hyena
and I just laugh -  *it's something to do
with survival, I think

The Mother’s Song

under the
horse-chestnut tree
in the shade
with my little darling
are the loveliest moments
Laugh aloud
sweet angel
Wave those arms
like you’d fly like a bee
in the open
Darling of my life
this moment
will always be in my mind
like a coin closed tight
in a pauper’s palm



The Child, now an adult, remembers the Mother’s Song**

there were days
those were the days
when my mum held me in her arms
under the
horse-chestnut tree
in the shade
and there she sang me her songs
and whispered me her gentle words
and held me close to her radiant face
Those were the days,
that the time,
when my mother’s voice
filled the space
and my being
under the
horse-chestnut tree
in the shade

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


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

Right...
catfish slippery
gourd slippery
and I am to catch this catfish

mountains stand behind
covered by mist
mountains have grown
as have my whiskers
and my clothes tear and wear out with time
and I am to catch
slippery catfish
with slippery gourd -
O god
of streams and mountains!
how do you catch, dear god of bamboo,
a catfish in a gourd?

and the waters flow
of many monsoons and storms
and the river has changed its course
many times
while I stand here with my gourd
and myself twisted and turned and all my virility lost
not a jot closer to my task
even with the god of riverbanks;
but all the while this catfish jumps around in the stream
mocking
clapping its fins like a pair of hands
and beating the water with its tail
and the message it sends is: “Come on! come on!
Catch me if you can!”

Right...
catfish in the waters slippery
gourd in my hand slippery
and I am to catch this catfish
O god of mist and rocks
how do you catch a catfish in a gourd?

we are going
this day in the gentle light
master and bullock
down the dusty path
an anonymous villager
and his sturdy bullock
far in a village in India
for there’s work to be done
like many a villager has done
and beast and master
out determined in the days
when the land must be worked
to nurture its people
across China, Egypt and Mesopotamia
and nameless lands
they have done this
and we do
now this day that is ours
through the winding ways
to the fields
to the end of the day
I the villager and you the bullock
Come, we shall work the fields
as countless have done
and as many more will come to do

now that my donkey is dead
it makes me reminisce
about the good times we had*
________

We were in the car
my donkey and I
as I took it for a weekend ride
which was my habit

And a traffic cop stopped us
and he said:
“Hey, what you doing
with a donkey in the car?
Take it to the zoo”

The next weekend that same cop
stopped us
and he asked me:
“Still with that donkey?
I thought I told you to take it
to the zoo"

“Oh, I did,” I replied
*“and we enjoyed it so much
That was an excellent idea, thank you
Now we’re going to the beach”

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

Mike said
I'm the prettiest girl
he's ever met
so I let him
jump in

Carl made me
feel special
he said he'd never seen
anyone so pure
so in the back of his car
I let hm in

Rob said he'd rob
the world, go to jail
do anything I told him to do
so in the garden
I let him plant himself in

George wrote poetry;
he described my eyes
and my face and my walk
and he said he'd love me
forever, it was destiny brought
us together -
could he see more, please?
So I let him do everything
so he could make divine poetry

*Now I can't find any
of these guys
and they don't return my calls -
what happened
to their fine words and promises?

"Do you notice,"
says a passer-by
to the begging Diogenes,
"that people rather offer alms
to the lame, blind and maimed?
They do not offer alms
to a philosopher like you.
Why is it that you think?"

"That's because,"
says Diogenes
"people think one day
they too might become lame, blind or maimed -
but they never think they'd
ever turn to philosophy
So they ignore me..."

they keep missing this one
in all the TV and cinema versions
they make and re-make of Tarzan;
so it’s really my duty to set the record straight

Tarzan was running uninhibited
(that’s before Jane arrived)
and Jumbo the elephant looked at Tarzan
and looked him up and down
and Jumbo the elephant said to Tarzan:
*“That’s cute what you got dangling down there -
but can you pick peanuts with it?”

Ah, my feet hurt these days
walking on these hills and slopes
and it’s been seven days
since my straw shoes were thinned and with holes
and become tattered and absolutely useless.
I remember I was walking in the fields and
I could feel my feet touch the ground and I said:
Curse you, you silly straw shoes!
Is that how long you last?
Is that how you let me down
when I need you most?
Well, like humans I have known,
and so my straw shoes;
they too tire of their friends and relatives
and they too feel the burden
and inconvenience
of serving an old parent.
But I’ve just thrown old shoes away
as one throws old memories and the past away .
Let me make myself new straw shoes
as I sit below these trees and away from the crowd
and with a little peace
for an old man like me
I can be quiet in this shade
perhaps talk to myself or sing some far-off song
and make myself
straw shoes, new ones
and I’ll walk again with new shoes
as one may drop, discard
and put away all old memories
and walk afresh and anew
with no shadow of the past over one’s head.
Let me make simple straw shoes;
that will suffice, just for the purpose;
nothing fancy, just so to be able to walk comfortably
as I go about my work
on the hills and slopes and the fields…
that is all one needs…
…an old man like me just making his own straw shoes…

Nasrudin’s friend visits him
and asks to borrow
his donkey for a day

Oh no, dear friend, says Nasrudin
moving close to his window
My brother borrowed my only donkey
just yesterday…

And just then Nasrudin’s donkey
brays aloud from the garden:
Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Hee-haw!

But - says Nasrudin’s friend,
with a twinkle in his eye -
I can hear your donkey in the garden!
I can hear your donkey!

Ah, says Nasrudin, cool and at ease:
*Who’d you rather believe?
Me? Or a donkey?

Shibata Zeshin studied art at Kyoto
and in farewell
was told by his sensei:
“you never know
the immensity of Mt Fuji
standing on it;
and so you never know
my importance as your teacher
and how fortunate you’ve been
till you go away from me
and you return to your native Edo”


and in years to come
Zeshin tells his departing students:
“may it be that you
become great artists
and you might say:
I studied under a man called Zeshin”

will the French
please stop stealing words
from Pretty Olde English?
we can’t but fix a secret meeting
and choose a rendezvous
and we discover the French have already
stolen every secret including the word rendezvous!
Oh, the French, when will
they stop this pilfering of English vocabulary?
I buy some trinkets and stuff for my beau
and they tell me my beau has been taken by the French –
and to add insult to injury
(those thieves!)
they’ve stolen all the stuff too!
Oh, there’s no stopping the French.
I can’t even sit to dine and say
“Bon appetit!”
and they steal my words,
and they run off with the dessert…
and would you believe it?
those cunning French,
they even steal the restaurant and its décor!
Oh, the evil French, will they never stop this? -
stealing from fecund English, so simple and innocent…
You see, even the Great Poet John Keats
he starts his poem in English
La Belle Dame sans Merci
and no sooner had he written the title,
the French stole the very words! -
and so ******* was our Romantic John Keats,
he wrote the poem itself
in what he hoped could never be Frenched!
Ah, the French…would you please stealing
words from our Fair Damsel English….


And the Chindians too!
Chindians?
you know,
the Chinese and the Indians together!
(Yes, it’s a new word,
shows how inventive English is.)
Well, the Chinese have done it with
a smile and a kowtow! –
there you go, while you bow or cringe,
the Chinese steal the kowtow;
and before our very own eyes
today even in our modern world
the Chinese steal words like Dao, Zen, taofu,
chi, and feng shui;
and the Indians, not to be beaten,
and perhaps with a vengeance
to deal a fatal blow to the Raj,
they steal words like: nirvana, pundits, yoga,
juggernaut, pepper and curry

And of course
there are many more tribes and nations
in this merry global **** of Gloriana English
and there’s just nothing Britannia can do about it!
Oh, what’s the world coming to
when our Plain Jane English is molested like this;
and so I do my part
the Dark Knight coming to her rescue -
perhaps this earnest appeal in verse
will touch the hearts of the beasts and dragons
and they’ll keep their claws away
from our Fair Helpless Dame English

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...)

You know, you just gotta love
poetry blog sites
Poetry sites make you comfy
You post a poem
and they tell you how
useless your poem is
with various comments and statistics

Like how? Like below…

You posted this poem 36 hours ago.
This poem is public and visible on your profile.
It has been read by 1 other person.
Loser!
(Actually, was that you using another account?)
Loser!
It’s been 36 days now since
you posted this poem
and 360 other poems.
You’ve had 1 hit –
****** loser!
It’s all so consistent…  
You’ve had no likes…
You’ve had no recommendations…
No one has favorited you…
Loser! Loser! Loser!
****** loser!
You've no Friends.
You've had no Invitations.
You’re not on the
Most Frequented Poet List.
You’re not on the
Most Commented List.
You’ve had 390 poems
and none has been chosen
to be featured at our site
and none of your poems
ever became Editor’s  pick.
Loser! Loser! Loser!
O, What’s wrong with you?
*Loser! Loser! ****** Loser!

1
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey
I’m coming there
where you are
with a he he he
and a hu hu hu
la, la **!**!**!
Who’s me?
I’m the superest-ever clown
I’m coming right now
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey
I’ll be there!

2
I’m coming with a lot of noise
I’ll come with laughs
and cheers
I’ll come unseen and with joy
hey! hey! hey!
you can start laughing now
O you can smile
come on now
la la la di di da da
sum sum sum
sim sim sim
I’ll be as good as dim sum!

3
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey
I’ll be like the moon
when I come
seen by the first humans
for the first time
and everyone looking in wonder and love
and laughing, laughing
for what else can one do
when there’s so much radiant lunacy?
ha, ha ha
he he he
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey



4
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey
I’ll flower there
right inside your hearts
like a smile, a laugh
a happy feeling you don’t even know is there
and then suddenly it’ll all blossom
in your skin and your face and in your limbs and organs
and you’ll all laugh too
and your neighbors too
and strangers too
for you are me and I you
and everyone too
hey, hey, hey
*** dum dad a ***
he he he he he he
Ha ha ha ha ** **
we’ll be laughing
we’ll be all laughing at one another
and we’ll be laughing at ourselves
for I ‘m coming
O I’m ever coming
superest-ever clown ever
like delicate music
like an exotic flower
and we’ll all laugh
like kookaburras
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey
for I’m the happy Universal Clown ever
just like you
just like me
hey hey hey
*** dum da da ***
moom moom
swish glish
sa sa sa lum
hey, hey, hey

O Bani Thani
I grow thin, wanting you;
O you of the drooping eyes and long neck
O Bani Thani, O sublime poetess and singer
who walks gracefully through the halls of  Kishangarh
I hear
you are in my stepmother’s service;
and the songs you sing
though they are most sublime
they lure me into unholy thoughts, O Bani Thani
as do your drooping eyes, your lips curved into a smile
You walk head high always, they say
and you look directly ahead even when I am nigh
and yet that too invites me to wander over the landscape of your face
your drooping eyes, your drooping eyes
the eyebrow like a bow, the bow of Rajput warriors
whose arrows  pierce with vigour
the elongated face, O Bani Thani
your elongated face and nose and curls of hair
that flow to your waist
and that visage and seduction all graced in muslin odhni
O Bani Thani
I hear your voice, I hear your songs
and your poems are recited here by the men even in the streets –
O but do you hear mine, do you hear my poems of
love, lust and thoughts unholy?
O do you hear my poems of pain and longing? –
all arising, all arising, O Bani Thani
everything in my manhood aroused
as I see you walk by, as I hear you sing
as I hear you play on your instruments
O Bani Thani, Bani Thani –
sing to me, sing to me:
*What is my end, what is my fate
in this my love and longing for you?

Pardon me, Sir,
said Polite Tree.
I think you’re standing
on my feet.

Oh,* said the man
and moved a little
and sat leaning
against the tree.


Pardon me, Sir,
said Polite Tree,
but your sweat’s
on my trunk.

Oh, said the man
and he climbed up
the tree
to some way off the ground.


Pardon me, Sir,
said Polite Tree,
but you’re in my arms
and you’re not my baby.


Oh, said the man
and he moved up
a little more
and rested well in a nest.


Pardon me, Sir,
said Polite Tree,
you shouldn’t make
your home here;
I think it’s time
for you to move on.



Oh...right, said the man.
Let it be so.
And he climbed
down the tree.


Pardon me, Sir,
said Polite Tree.
I don’t think
you need to water me!


Oh, said the man
zipping up his pants.
*Then I suppose
it’s time for me to go.

You want me to talk, Sir?
I’d relax and you can paint better, Sir?
Maybe, Sir…maybe, but what shall I say, Sir?
For I am not used to talking
to important people like you, Sir…
Why do you laugh, Sir?
It is true, I’m just a girl from the village, Sir
attending to Laxmi and Ganga –
those are our family cows, Sir;
and I milk them; and my father
and I bring the milk to the market
and to neighbors who can afford to pay for them…
We don’t carry them in these fancy pots Sir,
you make me pose with
but just earthen jars, Sir…
But this morning, Sir, my father said to me:
Come, Mina – you shall pose for a famous artist;
India has never seen such an artist
and he shall pay well
and perhaps with that I shall buy a third cow;
three neighbors owe us money
and will never return them in this life;
and the old woman in the sixth house has died
owing us money for these last four years…
You just have to stand there
before the artist in your cleanest sari
and use borrowed milk pots…
And that is what my father said, Sir…
I normally don’t dress in such clean clothes, Sir;
the saris I have are saris my mum used
but she died when I was little, Sir…
Sir? You want me to keep talking…but I am boring, Sir
and I talk simple words and I am sure you’ve heard…
Oh Sir, I’m more used to talking to cows
than important men, Sir…
All right Sir, I will tell you…I will tell you…
I do have dreams, Sir
and it is just the dream of all the
girls in my village:
I’d like new saris and jewels
and I’d like to be married
before the year ends;
Arun from the next village
always looks at me
in our town fairs
and Oh, would that he’d marry me
and we’d have a home and a farm and cows
and we’d have children
and we’d live our quiet lives
in our secluded village…
Sir, that is my dream…I have nothing more to say, Sir…
I hope you are done…
Or maybe you should talk, Sir…

What have you come to admire?
says the cow
you guys and gals stand around
new to the farm
you say
ah, look at the horses
(memories of horse races
in the corners of your mind)
you look at the lambs
and you go soft and sweet;
"Oh, how cute," you say
(Cute my ***!
Not so cute when you put
the meat over the barbecue pit, is it?)
You aliens look at the trees in the distance
and the sky clear and endless
and you drool: "Oh, what freedom!"
and then you come near me
and you whisper to your child
"...see, see cow...
milk comes from cow..."
and you come closer
with your progeny
and I show
you imbeciles
my rear and ****
and watch out
if you come too near
I do ****
and I have two hind legs
and it's best you back off:
my **** is as pretty a picture
as any of yours;
have a look at my posterior
and **** off

got myself a donkey yesterday

got myself a donkey yesterday

and tethered it out there in the yard;

but when I looked out the window

I noticed
it looked glum, moody and testy

so I went out to see what I could do
I tickled my donkey 

and he cackled and laughed a lot

and he hee-hawed aloud -

but yeah, you can bet your ****

I got the bigger kick out of it


my donkey died

You remember the donkey

I bought some time ago? 

Well, I stopped feeding it for a week

and the stupid animal died 

just as it was finally learning to survive

on clean air, positive thoughts and vibes


that's a donkey on the table

so my donkey died

and in my grief I lay it on the best table

and I drank and drank



and people who came to mourn

brought some hay

but some of them said, after two days

(and I was still drinking-mourning):

"You can't just leave that lyin' on the table

"


"That's not a lion, you idiot!
"
I barked at each one of them
"That's my donkey on the table!
"
And so I'd demonstrated my ability

to stay sober

and retain my ****-picuity

in spite of days of grief

and like me I am sure you too

cannot but marvel at people's inability

to distinguish between a lion and a donkey


donkey ride

now that my donkey is dead

it makes me reminisce

about the good times we had

____



We were in the car

my donkey and I 

as I took it for a weekend ride

which was my habit



And a traffic cop stopped us 

and he said:

“Hey, what you doing 

with a donkey in the car?

Take it to the zoo”

*

The next weekend that same cop

stopped us

and he asked me:

“Still with that donkey?

I thought I told you to take it

to the zoo"



“Oh, I did,”* I replied

“and we enjoyed it so much

That was an excellent idea, thank you

Now we’re going to the beach”



donkey at the cinema*

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"

It was the end-of-year exam
to qualify for the prestigious
Top Class at school
and with his paper
spoiled brat Tommy
handed in a $100 note
to his teacher and winked with a whisper:
“A dollar for each point, Sir;
I know all about percentages”

The next day the teacher returned
the papers to the students
and marked bold on
spoiled brat Tommy’s paper
was: 40%
And the teacher pointed to a $60 note attached
and he said with a wink and whisper:
*“That’s the change, Tommy -
a dollar a point, yeah”

Come, listen all -
listen to a very gentle fable
Of Donkey, Dog and Man
and the friendship
amongst these three



1
Donkey and Dog are loyal servants;
they’ve served the same master
all their lives

It’s night now and
Donkey and Dog sleep
in the courtyard
while Master
snores in the house

A thief sneaks in
through the gate
and donkey whispers
as gently as he can:
Hey, dog…There’s an intruder;
Why don’t you bark and let master know?


And the old Dog growls as
quietly as he can:
Why don’t you bray aloud
and raise the alarm?


Hey, but you’re the dog
and you’re man’s best friend,
Donkey whispers in the dark



Man’s best friend, eh?
says Dog.
But is man the dog’s best friend?
I’ve served the master for ages
and now that I’m old he neglects me
and is talking about taking another dog.
I bet he’ll have you skinned alive
when you’re dead!
To the dogs with him!
You bray if you like.



2

Oh I’ve never seen
a more ungrateful being,
Donkey says.
Master is the best
and though he treats
us harsh
it’s all for our own good.
But your ingratitude offends me
and for the sake of decency and justice
and for all the values I hold dear
I shall have to do
a watchdog’s duty instead.


And with that
the donkey brays aloud
and the cacophony is heard
in all the village
and the thief runs away as quickly as he can;
and the master comes running out with a huge stick
and seeing the donkey braying madly
with no cause but its own stupidity
the master beats the donkey well and proper
till all his own hands ache
and he goes back to bed


And now Dog and Donkey
lie down again together
in the courtyard
and Dog says to the quiet Donkey:
Looks like you just found out
how it feels to be man’s best friend!

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

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

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

Nasrudin looks in the magic mirror
that allows him to peep into the future
and he sees many marvelous poems in cyberspace.

So Nasrudin calls his Donkey and he says to Donkey:
See, Donkey – there are so many marvelous poems in cyberspace.
They are beautiful poems.

But Nasrudin’s Donkey says:
Hee-haw! - what’s the use? As far as I’m concerned
the only good poem  is the one printed on paper.

And why is that? asks Nasrudin.

Because, at least when I’m desperately hungry, I can eat paper –
but I can’t eat cyberspace can I? replies Donkey.

Anne and I were walking
down in the country
when we saw a lake
and a frog at its edge
“Ladies,” it croaked
“Will one of you give me a kiss? –
I was a fantastic saxophone player
and a country witch turned me
into a green frog”

I knelt down and picked up the frog
and threw him in my pocket
and buttoned up
so the creature couldn’t escape
and I resumed walking

“Sue,” said Anne to me
“Are you nuts?
The frog said it’ll turn
into a fantastic saxophone player -
so why don’t you or I  kiss it?”

“Anne,” I replied,
*“it’s you who's nuts
We’d make more money
with a talking frog anytime
than with a  saxophone dummy”

You see Diogenes living in the slums. He lives in a barrel. This is the man even Alexander the Great admires. So it makes you wonder about Diogenes.

So you pretend to be there quite by accident and you ask: “Diogenes…Who was your teacher?”

“A mouse was my teacher,” says Diogenes.

You are quite confused. And you say: "A mouse is your teacher? And how is that, Diogenes? "

“Well, most exquisite Sir,” says Diogenes to you. “Most cultured Sir,” he says. “I had no home and I was in the streets. I almost killed myself. Then I saw mouse. Mouse ran around and looked for food and it found some and I observed mouse for over two days. And I realized how resourceful mouse was. And then I said to myself: ‘Learn of the mouse, Diogenes- and all will be well.’ And so I learned of mouse. And every time I have a problem, I simply ask myself: ‘How will mouse solve this?’ And so mouse became my teacher. And now, most Exquisite Sir, I have a problem. You. I want to get rid of you and I ask myself: ‘How would mouse solve this problem?’ He would bite…”

You listen to this and you are afraid – and you run. And Diogenes has done well; he has learned well from his teacher. And you can hear him shouting to you: “By the way, who was your teacher?”

The Daily Mail, UK and Herald Sun (Australia) report on how Father Gabriele Amroth of the Vatican teaches that yoga and Harry Potter and the ‘oriental religions’ are the works of the Devil...the following poem  expresses my outrage at such stupidity and parochialism that still exists amongst some groups of Europeans even today in their relations with the East.


song of Father Gabriele Amorth


O yoga yoga
baby baby
sings Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni
O yoga yoga
no go no go
to yoga yoga
baby baby
all you innocents
and pure
all blessed
and destined for Heaven
no go to yoga yoga
yoga yoga
yogurt is fine
sugar in your yogurt is fine
strawberry and apple
in your yogurt is fine
so eat eat your
yogurt yogurt yogurt
but yoga yoga
O yoga yoga
no go no go no go baby
baby baby
sings Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni
and also no go to Harry Potter
baby baby baby
no go no go
no go to yoga no to yoga
and no go no go
to Harry Potter
baby baby baby
now say after me:
yoga yoga yoga
baa baa baa
bad bad bad
and say after me:
Harry Potter Harry Potter
moo moo moo
bad bad bad
O baby baby baby
at our next conference
I’ll teach you
how the Dragon is bad
and how the Chinese got it all wrong
all these centuries
with their Chinese Dragon, Dragon, Dragon
but that’s for next time
next time next time
baby baby baby
for now just repeat after me
your most reverend
Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni:
O yoga yoga
no go no go
to yoga yoga
baby baby
And say after me
all ye faithful
all ye blessed:
*Harry Potter Harry Potter
moo moo moo
bad bad bad

4)
I moved into the woods
built a little cabin, below the rocks
and covered by the trees;
yet I had visitors
who had come astray into the wilderness

Someone wanting space for the night:
“Is there enough room in your cabin?”
“Why,” I said, “there’s plenty all round”
I was vegetarian
but the destitute offered themselves to me -
the religious might say: God fed me
even in the wilderness! Ha!

A wandering woman one evening,
she offered love in return
for shelter that night
She let me lick, taste her flesh
“Bite me,” she said
offering a foretaste in our foreplay
Why would they not leave me? –
these wanderers, the intruding world

No, I had not come in like Thoreau
or the Unabomber – but maybe
like the misanthrope Timon of Athens...
afraid of my own hate; but the innocent
seemed to be drawn in as to a...an...abattoir

1
in the absence
of your rays
dear Sun
the fearful
created God


2
we trembled in our nights
in the wild
and you shattered the darkness
and you said:
‘Behold, Creatures -
Behold the Earth!’


3
I lie asleep
and you send in
beams of messengers
dear Sun
each with the same message:
‘Hey, lazybones –
wakie! wakie!’


4
by you
dear Sun
is life;
and through you
too is death


5
O setting Sun
do not drag my
heart down with you;
for it’s known in nations
where you do not shine as often
you ****** cheer and smiles away
till you come again;
do not let then my heart
dear Sun
sink with you




6
sun crazy sun
very disobedient and ill-tempered
unwilling to listen
to shine not too hot and not scorch the earth;
and show-off
and bad-tempered with its flares


7
see
the creatures of the earth
burrow deep
and go to sleep
in your absence;
and they come again
kicking and hungry
when you shine



8
I see you in the flower
that blooms it seems at random;
and I see you too
in the leaves of the lilly-pilly at my window




9
one must see the sun
or feel it
oneself



10
I think
you’re one hot blonde,
O Sun babe;
on this side of the universe
no one’s as hot as you



11
the clouds try catching you;
they are little children
and they think you are a ball
they can throw to one another


12
sometimes I wonder
in the loneliness of night
where you are
and then I see you
bouncing off the moon;
ha!
she rejects your advances


13
they look at the sun
but do not know how to see;
poets interpret it
as children play with clouds
and the holy ones attempt to
squeeze the sun into their texts

1
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper

2
Be quiet and still!
says the scissors
It's for your own good

Yeah? says the paper
Have you ever had
anyone cut you up like that?


3
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper


4
There, says the scissors
I'm done
Cut you up square and neat
You're a homemade notepad now
ready to be used many times over
than when you were one!

And says the paper:
Oh, you stubborn dumbo!
I'm not for writing -
I'm koi paper
meant for origami!




POSTSCRIPT
Why didn't you tell me?

*I thought you knew
what you were doing
you ****** fool!

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

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

I'm having a drink this here
at Space Bar in Pluto
and Martian Pete comes in
and sits beside me
and we talk, and we drink

Full of loyalty
and pride, as a human
(and patriotism included)
I tell the Martian:
"In 1969
We humans put a man on the moon"

"Pish! " says the Martian
"We sent a team
to the Sun
Earth Year 1959"

"Oh, " I say to the Martian
"The Sun would have burned
your team of Martians! "

"Pish! " retorts the Martian
*"You stupid Earthlings!
We sent them to the Sun at night"

Positive thinking
or negative thinking?
Or think real?
Then clear thinking and
straight thinking
divergent thinking
and radiant thinking
convergent thinking and
dynamic thinking
rational thinking
scientific thinking
or no-thought thinking
God-mind thinking
or free-thinking
Oh for goodness’ sake! –
*just think!

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

"Daddy,"* said Catharine as I tucked her
into bed, "will you tell me a tale?"
So I told her the story
of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
with Disney's ***** and Grumpy  
thrown in for good measure;
and when I finished she pulled out
an apple from under her pillow
and she said I should eat it
I laughed and I did, and spent 7 days in hospital
And my doctor said I was lucky to have survived
the poisoned apple
Catharine won't tell us where she got it from

Today Catharine stands before me
and her stepmom
as we have dinner
And she places two pink cupcakes on the table
and she smiles, and she whispers:
*"Eat...that's from Hansel and Gretel"

you’re not going are you
today to the edge of your seat
to the corners of insanity?
to the corners at the cinema
nearest the exit
to run off when the demons come
to sleep in the day
below your bed
so the rabbits cannot find you;
and then go for a walk
in the cold of the night
mumbling like Lady Macbeth
maybe now running a fast-food restaurant
and asking each tree in your garden :
Would you like some
manure with that?
you’re not going to Extremity Town
today, are you?
to tell the Mayor
he’s taken extreme measures
opening an animal sanctuary;
would he please
open an abattoir instead
where the animals skin humans?
Oh you’re not going
are you
to the bus-stop with a stopwatch
to time how long it takes for the passengers
to **** the driver?
Oh you’re not going are you
in the day or this evening or anytime tonight? -
to see if Jimmy the car mechanic
has diversified on your insistence
and if he now sells
in his garage
lingerie and toothpaste for that special night
and salads and beer and peanuts and spices
for first dates only

O you are going to have a good quiet sleep aren’t you
like owls in hollows
and you won’t offer any surprises to the world?
*not today?

1
Peter's been in the job
nine months
He's got the hang of it
He's really good;
Customers ask for him
Colleagues rely on him
The boss assigns him tough jobs

Peter's wife says at home:
"My, you've become irreplaceable
Time for a promotion;
and time for my makeover"


2
And so Peter speaks to his Boss
about a promotion
and runs through what he's done
in nine months:
"I've got the hang of it
I'm really good;
Customers ask for me
Colleagues rely on me
You trust me with the tough jobs
I'm irreplaceable"

"Agreed, " says the Boss
"But you are irreplaceable"
…pause…pause…pause…
*"So no one can take your
current position; so
you'll have to stay there,
I'm afraid"

I went to the dentist -
reluctantly, definitely -
and I closed my eyes and
I felt metal against my teeth
as the dentist probed my mouth
and then I heard his words:
"Oh what a deep cavity...
Deep cavity...
Deep cavity"

And I said timidly:
"Come on, doctor...you needn't repeat
those words - I'm frightened enough
just coming here"

"I wasn't repeating,"
said the dentist
precise  in his words
*"Those were echoes you heard"

…meow, meow, meow…

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

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

…meow, meow, meow…

The young Musicians  are at rehearsal...the ladies and the lords will soon gather in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians will play them some music and sing them various  songs...but first, they must rehearse...


The Musicians at Rehearsal

Let us continue…
Let me tune a little of this lute
while you peruse the notes
and you clear your throat
And what’s our Cupid doing?
Crushing grapes again between his teeth

Let us rehearse well
to render a song of softness
and ease and grace
A song of love
with sweet music
that will charm our guests

And we shall present it
in the private chamber
of honored lords and ladies -
and we shall sing like angels
and one of us will be as Cupid
dancing and flying as fancy takes him

Let us hurry now
though let us not forget polish
and pace and perfection…
come, let us again rehearse together


...and soon the ladies and the lords will arrive...and the musicians will perform and sing their songs of love, passion and sadness...

...and the ladies and the lords are seated in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians play and they sing a song of love and passion...


Song of Love

O luscious Ladies
and brave Sirs

the clouds join
with one another
and the streams sing;
the birds sit amorous
on the branches
and the trees sway
while the flowers spread their scent
in the air
and the bees dance in a daze

ah, Ladies are made for men
and men for women
and each so shaped for perfect fits -
embrace then the lover beside you
O Sirs pick the red berries
on the lips of the luscious ladies;
and O lovely Ladies,
yield to the embrace
of the gallant beside you
and feel flowers bloom within -
for men are made for women
and women for men
and each so shaped for perfect fits

O embrace and kiss
dear luscious Ladies
and most accomplished Sirs
for Cupid seeks that you make love
and produce heavenly cherubim
who in turn, nights and days,
will make love like you do
now in this chamber of pleasures


...and so ends the first song...and the musicians prepare to sing one more for the charming ladies and the elegant lords...a song of sadness to end the night...

...the beautiful ladies and the lords want more from Caravaggio's musicians... the musicians are always glad to oblige..they sing their song of sadness, of loss and love...*



O this ecstasy we call love


O this ecstasy we call love -
what is it?
why do we crave it
when there is such pain
that weighs on the body and heart?

O this joy we call love -
what is it?
why do we fall
when there is so much deceit
and betrayal?
why do we love
when there are lies
and hidden motives?

O this curse called love -
it has dried my heart out
and my being is smeared
as cloth with oil and grime;
my best times have been taken away
and there is left only
contempt and scorn
and derision…

O this darkness we call love -
what is it?
why do we still move to it
even as it teases us
and leaves us broken
and forlorn?
  

*...and it is time to go...and the ladies and lords bow and they depart...some depart hand in hand...silent...some depart alone, sad and contemplative...

free-floating, untethered
like a chimney-sweep orphan
it  swirls alone in space
no star nearby, no system to call it home
free, wandering, swaying to a symphony of
embracing silence

there are possibly millions
these drifters, these mavericks, rogues
sub-stellar, not mainstream
no pull on each

not your usual planet
with position, star-bound and mooned
but a maverick, free, solitary
untethered, untethered, indie planet
in no one’s sway
….a maverick, it does it all its own way….

This poem based on a joke on eggs (!) is dedicated to Timothy, a fellow-poet here at HP….I  was reminded of that joke about eggs  by Timothy’s comment on my recent poem: “Corax versus Tisias”.  
Timothy:  “This is great, Raj, another humourous poem with a good meaning, if you are an Egg or a Crow, lol! Keep them coming!!!!~<3<3:):)☺♂♀♥♠♣♦◘☻◙•○.O♫” …
Well, here’s another humorous poem, Timothy – and dedicated to you…



Dad, the Kid, and the Girl Next Door

(1)
“Dad,”* says 6-year-old Tim
back from the neighbour’s
“Sandra next door and I’ve decided
to get married”

Dad laughs…What do these kids know? he thinks…
I’ll humour him, just kid along
with this precocious child of mine


(2)
“But you’re too young, Tim,”
says Dad

“That’s OK,” says Tim
“Sandra doesn’t mind I’m a year
younger than she”


“Oh,” says Dad
“but marriage is such
a huge responsibility”

“Yeah,” says Tim quick and sharp
“Haven’t you seen my school reports?
Teacher always says I’m hugely responsible;
it’s the same on Sandra’s card”


Dad’s smile weakens
“Well, what will the two of you
do for money?”

“Oh, we’ve worked that one out
We get $20 a week in pocket money
between us and we reckon we’ll take
on extra jobs:
I can mow our lawn;
and she’ll wash dishes at her home
Beside we’ll save a lot of money
since we don’t at all eat out
and lodging is free -
a week here and the next at Sandra’s”


(3)
Now Dad has lost his smile
These kids have thought of everything,
he thinks.  I’ve got to do better –
come up with an objection that’ll  strike fear


“Have you thought, Tim,” says wise old Dad
“about babies? Married people make babies –
what you going to do about that?”

“Simple,” says Tim the kid, cool and unperturbed
“We’ve googled all that:
Every time Sandra lays an egg
I’ll crush it under foot!”

Dad sighs with relief…

The smoker
I bought some rare cigars;
had them insured against fire
And by three months later
I’d lost them all
in a series of small fires
But the ****** insurance company
wouldn’t pay
so I sued them


The judge
I’ve looked at all the evidence
and I accept the cigars had been
indeed destroyed
by a “series of small fires”
and so I order
the company to pay the insured
the sum of $15 000


The insurance company
We paid - we didn’t
want a prolonged legal case;
but now we are taking  the client
to court
as it’s clear through
the very evidence he submitted
he caused the “series of small fires”


The judge*
I find the insurance
company’s former client
guilty of arson;
and furthermore I order that
the man serve prison
a year each for each count
and so, to make it clear,
to see past all the smoke:
that’s 24 years in jail for arson

“Do I sense
some resistance -
a sense of injustice?”
whispers Life
folding me cold
in her ample python-coil
and she sings me her song


“The flowers bloom
in the fields, sweet love
to be gathered for your bier
Time lingers in the wings
to pull you off stage
at the moment
opportune in its Clasped Book

The worms wait patient
if you choose a burial;
if cremation’s your choice
the fires wait in quiet potential
The musicians practise
to be employed
by the survivors
to deliver you a dirge

And so my sweet love -
Live well
Night night, sleep tight,
don’t let the bedbugs bite"

Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read
Where did I learn to read?
they taught me at home,
they taught me at school
they taught me at the camps and retreats
and at all the Assemblies and Gatherings
and at various Thought Adjustment Programs
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read and I can recite
They trained me well to recite
and to memorize and to regurgitate
and to repeat and repeat and repeat
at the Houses of Prayer
the Holy Ones stood before us
and they trained us, they drilled us
thousands and thousands of us
and millions and millions of us
and through years and years
and centuries and centuries
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
No variation, no change, just -
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
they trained us well at Animal Farm –
word for word, repeat and repeat and repeat
and when in doubt, we have our Great Leaders
Pigs for Pigs, Goats for Goats, Turkeys for Turkeys
and Donkeys for Donkeys
who will speak for us
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
so must you, if you should be pure,
if you should be saved
if you should see the Truth
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw