1
Dear Poet Friend at HP
(I don't know your name, as the name you use at HP is in a typo I can't decipher.)

* I welcome your question and comment as it gives me an opportunity to explore this issue of plagiarism. It will indeed be useful for everyone.

* This is my modus operandi: I take a joke from online and I convert it to poetry. The language is mine; I give the joke a context, even alter its spirit, create characters and by the time I'm finished with it, it is a new and original product.
If I took the words exactly as they are and passed them off as my own, then that is plagiarism. I never do that.
Plagiarism is taking another person's words and phrases and work and passing them off as one's own. That is not what my work is about.

* Take the example of Shakespeare. His "Julius Caesar" is actually based on various sources. So is his "Romeo and Juliet" and other plays like "Othello". Do we charge him with plagiarism ? No, as he has used his own language and puts each material from various sources into his own style. I have taken many jokes and I have put them in poetry, in my own style, in my own narrative. It shows a great lack of understanding of Literature to call that plagiarism.

* You might ask why I do not have a note at the end to indicate the poem is based on a joke found online. I used to do that (see my older poems) and decided for purely aesthetic reasons to keep notes to a minimum.

Kind regards
Raj Arumugam



2
Would it be fine with you if I posted your comment along with my reply as a separate post on my page? It will benefit everyone to consider this issue.
If you are not agreeable to my including your view in such a post, then I will simply post my reply possibly entitled "Reply on being charged with plagiarism".
Thank you

Kind regards
Raj Arumugam

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

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

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

And since then I have been free of my wife.

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

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

Camelot was really a place
where you parked camels –
yeah, the Egyptians traded everywhere;
and sure the round table was true –
King Arthur asked Sir Circumference to
fashion him a round table
because, as a matter of strategy,
it’s never good to be cornered

And what did the Egyptians do
after they parked their camels at Camelot?
Oh, they enjoyed the knight life
and the Musical
and they eyeballed Guinevere and Julie Andrews

So really, in spite of Thomas Malory
and Richard Harris and Richard Burton
in spite of all skills literary and vocal,
and Hollywood special effects -
Camelot was just a night club;
the English have always loved a good drink

WARNING:  Horror*...Readers might find this poem offensive or distressing.
_____________­_


1)
I know
once I was just like you
I was young and furious too
the world was too much
everyone made you feel
so hopeless, you think you could ****
I know exactly
how you feel

Like the time
my parents kept on and on
about responsibility
I had to look after my things,
that made me mad

And then I decided
I must assure them
I would grow up to be responsible
make them feel confident
I must put them at ease
so I did

And the police asked me
if I knew where they'd gone
and I showed the cops my perplexity:
“They were always 
responsible
in everything -
 how could they
just go away 
and leave me like this?”

The police and lawyers searched the house
and they found the will -
my parents had left everything to me
and had put my siblings
neat in order
stretched out on the dining table
in the basement kitchen


2
Like the time
then at work
the colleagues went on
about responsibility
and they conspired:
I was irresponsible;
they were conscientious;
I was a freeloader
Ah, the judges in one's world

the judges of one's soul

and one day
they found a worker in a bad state
dead and lying naked in the clichéd
pool of blood –
in the toilet, of all places -
with the words: *“How irresponsible”
on the floor

Everyone was in a state -
I moved inter-state
I was going places


3)
Dear, oh dear

don't cry

Darling, oh darl

don't bleed

There was a time when I married
(everyone finds it's a mistake;
they either **** their partner
or, to continue living,
they **** their own spirit)
but I was determined to grow
my body and spirit -
can we not get conventional? -
so I had minced pie for a time
and no one could bring
my wife back home
you see
wifey got
too comfy
and see she had this thing
(after respectability)
about responsibility
the role of husband and father and
parent and homeowner, mow the lawn
service the loan
and all that crap –
I quite believe she was going mad;
maybe she walked away into the woods
Was that responsible of her?

Dear, oh dear

don't cry

Darling, oh darl

don't bleed


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



5)
And now here we are -
I have come into your space, your cell;
gates and doors
yield to my fingers, if you must know
(always good with my hands,
good with my teeth)

And we are here
each against one's wall -
and each wants to know
who is responsible
for this mess
Who made all this?
Who was insane to give us all this?
It was a mad God

or a meaningless universe – 

either way, there is no responsibility
You and I are agreed

Here we are
each against one's wall
considering who will eat who...
*Make your move; I am famished

mummy, mummy,
who invented school?


oh, sweetheart,
what a clever girl you are;
why don't you tell me first
who you think invented school?


I think, mummy,
school must have been invented
it must be by people
like old grumpy Uncle Grim
next door;
and the grouchy Aunty Scowl
who lives behind our house


oh no, darling,
oh no, not at all:
O darling,
wise men and women
of the past
they invented school


oh, mummy,
they couldn't
have been wise
not if you went to school
and see what happens in class;
surely those men and women
of the past
couldn't have been wise
if they created places
where little kids are tested
every three days;
and little John thinks he's stupid
and little Sue says she'd rather
stay at home and sleep;
and Tua and Helen are always
tense and nervous
and Chandra snores while the teacher talks



oh no -
oh, no darling,
oh no,
it's not like that at all:
O darling,
they were wise and all-knowing
those
sage men and women
of the past
who invented school
so little children like you and your friends
can go and learn all you need to know



but why mummy,
why a school?
is it because daddy and you
and grandma and grandpa
you know nothing and
you can't teach me
what I need to know?*



oh, no darling,
oh no not at all;
O darling,
you must listen to mummy -
wise men and women
of the past
most certainly
they invented school

the other day
seated in his office
I asked my stubborn, mean-looking
bushy-eyebrows editor
if he’d consider two books:
“Short Stories for Real Short People”
and “Truly Tall Tales for Tall People”

and he sat back with that air
(actually, made you think he wanted to release air)
and he said:
“You’ll get shot for titles like that…
'Short Stories for Real Short People'
will directly offend people
who are vertically challenged
And the same people would shoot you
for excluding them by implication
in the epithet 'Tall' –
They’ll sure shoot you for that…
They’re both just politically incorrect”

And I leaned forward
(releasing air myself –
anything he can do, I can do better!)
and I said:
“Sure, it’s not politically correct – but it sure
ain’t psychologically correct, given our times,
to speak of shooting while we are in an office”

I hear the Editor no longer works there
and is now in some publishing house
who are specialists  in books on Accounting
and Engineering
where he knows, for sure, I’m never likely to go

…1966…Malaysia…


1
I’m on my scooter
back home to my village after work
in town
and it rains
and I take a short-cut
people have told me about;
and along the way at a bus-stop shed
I see in the moonlight
a woman waving at me

I stop and she says:
“Please give me a ride
and drop me home;
I’ve missed the bus…
Just the first house on the right
straight down this track…”

2
I see her face and her form -
O She’s beautiful
and I offer her my jacket
and she sits behind me
and I ask her for her name
and she tells me it is Salma;
it’s a beautiful name
and I love the fragrance she exudes so close
and sometimes, as we ride down the dirt-track,
her body brushes ever so lightly against my back


3
I stop at the shed that is her house
It is still raining
and Salma jumps off the scooter
and with a wave she runs into her home
I am happy –
she has my jacket
she is beautiful
and I know her home
and I have a reason to call on her
the next day…


4
It’s Sunday the next morning
and I ride to Salma’s house
and an old woman opens the door
and she listens to my tale
and she is shocked I’d want to see Salma
and she takes me into her small home
and she shows me
Salma’s photograph on the wall
and she asks: “Is that her you saw?”
and I nod shyly
and the old woman cries
and she says:
“I’m Salma’s mother;
Salma died three years ago…”




5
And Salma’s mother takes me behind the house
and there behind the trees she shows me Salma’s grave
and there on the grave is my jacket…
“She died three years ago,”
the woman cries..
I run; I run…
and I ride my scooter like crazy;
I don’t want my jacket back…
and I’ll never ride this way again…

you sit before me at the bench
and you throw your head back
hair loose, and neck exposed
as you drink water from the bottle
O, it makes me want to kiss your neck
lick it wet,
and drink from your mouth
and kiss your ears
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


you wave at a friend passing by
and I say I love that wrist exposed
and I want to kiss your naked wrists
and I want to kiss your neck
it makes me feel like these vampires
these kids today rave about
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there

O look sweetheart
you may not trust yourself
and you may not trust me
but I trust myself
so let me kiss your neck and ears
and let me nibble at your wrists
and let me drink from your mouth
cos I really trust myself


and still you laugh
and you won’t let me
and you say:
*I don’t trust you
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there

restroom...
that's more like it
rather than a word like toilet...
I mean it's really cool
it's a place where you rest;
so here I go
to this ample restroom
newspapers in hand
pillow and blanket
a mattress as well
and a milkshake...
ah, this feels so good...so restful...
a restroom anytime
rather than a toilet

The people waiting
stare when I come out
and I say:
"What are you staring at?
It's restroom, right?
So I had a good rest, a sleep
and so on..."
Oh, those strange people;
they're too stressed out
to have a good rest...
maybe they should queue outside a toilet...

When Mr Dracula goes out to work
on his permanent night shifts,
Mrs Dracula checks to make sure
her hubby’s taken his coffin syrup
and he’s got his coat on
and she warns him:
“You stay away from the girl necks door!”
She reminds him if he needs
to cross the seas
he should use the blood vessels

And the Dracula Kids too
(and their visiting drug ******
Auntie Drugula)
come to the door
and hang about wherever they can
to see Mr Dracula go off to work
driving off in his
Mobile Blood Unit
and they all bite each other
as they flap goodbye

And if you should wonder why
the Dracula family is so close
much more than most ****** normal families, well –
Blood is thicker than water – that’s why!

*Well, fangcy that!

The ellipsis
was sulking and
in a pensive mood….

And so I said: Well?

And Ellipsis said: What?

I said: You’re sulking…


And Ellipsis erupted
like pimples on an adolescent’s face:
You wrote poems on every tribe of my race;
you wrote of the full stop and the comma and the dash
and about every other freak that jumps up
on a printed page…
And now you ask me, why I sulk!

So, I said cautiously,
what do you want me to do?

So, write me a freaking poem on me -
The Ellipsis!

And I scratched my head, and I said:
*A poem about the Ellipsis?
Hmmmm…

in times gone by
Zhou Maoshu sat in his boat
and the boatman rowed it out

Zhou Maoshu went in his boat
to appreciate the lotuses
strewn about in the lake

And the vast sky was everywhere
and the willow huge in the foreground
and a line of them
receding into the mist
and Zhou Mashu sang a song
there in the lake as he sat in his boat:
*water spreads about
and the lotus
is scattered over it
I, Zhao Mashu, am in my boat
and this is neither a journey or end;
here we are but another part of the whole -
it is the seeing of beauty
and that is all there is
here and beyond
now and ever

in the villages
in days of yore
young men proved
their vigor
by lifting gigantic rocks

but in 2012 -
the remarkable year of
the French Village of Bugarach
(where many sagacious youths gathered) -
away in Tunisia,
the young man
downs eggs
egg-citedly
in a dare
and he’s up to his esophagus in 28 eggs raw
when something in him cracks
(O poor wasted youth of 20)
and just 2 before winning his bet
he dies;
it’s Armageddon for him in 2012,
though he also gains an epiphany:
28 raw eggs can *****


caveat
of course
O Ye Olde Sensitive Souls
this is not a yoke -
I mean, this is not a joke
For verily, 28 eggs can ****

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

the drama unfolds
and the young grow old
while the old go with a curse
I myself am grown into my fifties
and the people I’ve known
who called me Little Boy
have been called to dust and urn and to river over the decades;
and the kids I would kneel before to speak with them
now they say: Do I see you with hunched shoulders?
the earthly hours pass
and generations come and go
with little knowing though of their own flow
the drama unfolds
and the young grow old
while the old go
with a last bite of a fried chicken
places have changed
and villages and forests lain bare
and once where I stood admiring angsanas
and mango trees and peacocks
now I admire lilly-pillies
and hold the koala and the kangaroo as mascots;
people I have called mother, father
and uncle and aunty and grandmother
they now have gone, some without even a good-bye
some smiling and some with unintelligible mutterings
and ah, some in unendurable suffering
while I walk now as time unfurls like a flag in the square;
and the witnesses
of uncountable generations
of immeasurable life
those stars and the sun and the moon
keep me quiet company
and the sunlight uses the leaves in the garden
to whisper to me the secrets of things;
and in my leisure
these words I speak to you
and when I’m gone
through these you may speak with me;
and the ones I have told stories to
now re-tell the stories to their young
and time, interrupting its slumber,
lifts its head like a garden in the snake
awhile
sees all is right, all flowing as it would expect,
and looks around and gives me a look too
and goes back to sleep;
ah, the drama unfolds
and the young grow old
while the old go with a wink

The Elders Warn Skinny Vinny
Skinny Viiny, eat your meals -
no spitting and no sputtering;
just chew and swallow
everything mom feeds you
Think of the millions in Third World Countries
who daily and nightly can't afford food

Skinny Vinny, eat your food
or when you're asleep alone at night
the cockroaches will gather in your room
and they will nibble and nibble
and nibble
at your arms and your legs
and they will nibble and nibble
all night and all moonlight
and they will nibble away
all your fingers and toes
So if you don't want that to happen,
Skinny Vinny, eat all your meals
all that mom feeds you


But Skinny Vinny Ignores Her Elders
Now, one night, Skinny Vinny saw
that all the cockroaches
did come  (only in her dream, though)
and in that dream the cockroaches ate away
exactly as her parents had prophesied -
nibble, nibble, nibble, nibble
at her fingers and at her toes  -
and Skinny Vinny was exactly bereft
of all her yummy fingers
and all her smelly toes



Skinny Vinny Learns Her Lesson
And by this dream
Skinny Vinny had the **** beaten out of her
so much by fear
that from then on she ate all; she ate all at hand
she ate all she was fed and all at the table
and she demanded more by platefuls and bucketfuls
and she ate by trolley-fulls and delivery-truck-fulls
and her parents had to bring in
containers shipped in from China daily
all by Double Happiness exclusive deals

And Skinny Vinny ate and ate
and no food went to waste;
and her parents spent all their inherited fortunes
and they worked and worked day and night
even at the time when cockroaches fly
so they could feed Skinny Vinny
who ate all far and nigh -
and when last I checked the Daily Mule
( whose publication motto is:
We swear to carry nothing but unprocessed truth)
the parents are still working in the mines
in order to feed Skinny Vinny
who once would eat nothing



All parents learn your lesson*
And so be warned all ye parents
that threaten harm to your children
because they will not eat -
the very threats will be laid on your heads
and you will be digging in coal mines
to feed your kids

you sit before me at the bench
and you throw your head back
hair loose, and neck exposed
as you drink water from the bottle
O, it makes me want to kiss your neck
lick it wet,
and drink from your mouth
and kiss your ears
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there


you wave at a friend passing by
and I say I love that wrist exposed
and I want to kiss your wrists
and I want to kiss your neck
it makes me feel like these vampires
these kids today rave about
but you laugh and push me back
and you say:
I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there

O look sweetheart
you may not trust yourself
and you may not trust me
but I trust myself
so let me kiss your neck and ears
and let me nibble at your wrists
and neck
cos I really trust myself


and still you laugh
and you won’t let me
and you say:
*I don’t trust you;
I don’t trust me
cos I know
we won’t let it stop there

now, ladies and gentlemen,
as you can plainly see
I am quite adroit and learned
and this lady quite occupied
I am, let me make it clear,
extremely preoccupied
keeping this lady warm and happy
as she in her turn does ditto for me
Now whether we please ourselves missionary
or front to front
is really no business of yours -
but it’s purely and ****** our business and pleasure
So, most lovely ladies and resourceful gentlemen
you must find yourself a different room each
and leave me to fiddle or ****** as I wish
O shame on you ladies -
do you not lure your men
far enough into your depths?
O shame on you men -
do you not come hard enough on your women?
go you now and find each a body
and go spiritual, ****** or *****
have no guilt, enjoy abandon
love as you wish -
but really, you busybodies,
it’s time for you to relinquish pretense of  surprise
and depart from here, and  
leave one body busy with the other

it would appear the semi-colon
has an identity crisis;
it might appear
it can’t decide if it’s a dot
or a comma
and so does an acrobat act;
but really the semi-colon does more than that
for it does
complex listings the comma can’t manage
and can say things quite cleverly, like:
“All things are expensive; life *****.”
So really this semi-colon
is not a semi - but indeed a full-blown device

1
Tap, tap, tap
Pinch and expand
Pinch and expand
Tap, tap, tap

I love this dance you do
my dearies, each one of you
on your mobiles and devices
We too play with our fingers
and keep our eyes fixed
on your pockets and purses
and wallets

Tap, tap, tap
Pinch and expand
Pinch and expand
Tap, tap, tap
Stay diverted -
we love this what you do,
me Fagin
and all me children
and Jack Dawkins too,
that Artful Dodger

2
Come on, dear children of Fagin mine
this here is Paradise
All these people with eyes
and fingers on their devices
and brains in idle mode
in these crowded malls -
it’s our Paradise, dear babies mine
Whilst they are so preoccupied
let’s to our devices
And we can pick, pick, pick
whilst they tap, tap, tap

3
Ah ha, keep tapping on your mobiles
each one of you, my dearies
with your eyes on the mobile
when at the shops and in crowds
and at new year celebrations
Keep your eyes there, indeed
each one of you, my dearies
Tap, tap, tap
pinch and expand with 2 fingers on the screen
eyes mostly there on your devices
Tap, tap, tap
pinch, pinch, pinch  
and  let your *******
burst like shooting stars
All like a dance, as in a dance
each one of you in public spaces,
my dearies
so do the merry dance of your fingers
and eyes on the devices
And we?
We love this, me Fagin
and all me children
and Jack Dawkins too
(that Artful Dodger)
while You
tap, tap, tap
and we
pick, pick, pick
at this our harvest at shopping malls

it’s time now
let’s all do the donkey dance
it’s time now
for intelligence to carry the donkey
that’s the way
each one of you carry a donkey
for the donkey is tired of its burden
and now it’s your turn
a throne for the donkeys
each intelligence must be
so now
carry the donkey
each one of you
and me - of course, me too
and let’s do the donkey dance
left right
left right
hee haw haw hee
and side and round
and turn
hee haw haw hee
come dance all intelligent beings
this is the dance ever since earth’s first been
the dance of the donkeys
borne on our backs
by you, me and every other human being
the ancient dance of the donkeys
left right
left right
hee haw haw hee
and side and round
and turn
hee haw haw hee

1
zzzzz.....zzzzz...shhh.....zzzzz.
shhh....be quiet!.....zzzzz....
it’s the quiet of night
and everyone’s asleep...
so be quiet....zzzzzzzzzzz...

he-body is in bed
and see, beside is she-body
and both owners are fast asleep
but bodies speak even in sleep
shhh....be quiet!.....zzzzz....
zzzzz.....zzzzz...shhh.....zzzzz.


2
one turns in sleep
click! the neck says
ssssuuu!
a big toe scratches the mattress

silence

hmmm...mmmm...hmmmm...
that’s the in-breath, out-breath
as the bodies communicate


growl! it’s an empty tummy
and tchk! says the tongue
as it feels thirsty;
swwwwwirl!
says the blanket
as she-body pulls more of it



3

zzzzz.....zzzzz...shhh.....zzzzz.
shhh....be quiet!.....zzzzz....
it’s the quiet of night
and everyone’s asleep...
so be quiet....zzzzzzzzzzz...


rrrr....rrrrr.....rrrrrr...
that’s he-body snoring
rrrr...rrrr....rrrr...rrrrrrrr...
yes, he snores like a saw


ttttttttttt! yes, she-body kicks

bp!bp!bp!bp!
he-body ***** his thumb


zap!
a noise travels
from lung to gut
hmmmm....hmmmmmm....hmmmm...
there is heavy-breathing
the nose is blocked


4
zzzzz.....zzzzz...shhh.....zzzzz.
shhh....be quiet!.....zzzzz....
it’s the quiet of night
and everyone’s alseep...
and bodies talk....listen


prrrrtttt!
yes, that’s he-body
everybody knows this rude sound
Plattt!
yes, that’s she-body
with an instinctive kick
Baam!
that’s he-body
as it hits the floor


rrrrrr......rrrrrr....rrrrrr.....rrrrrr....
prrrrrrrrrrr­rrrrtttttt!
that’s he-body again, I’m afraid,
blissfully unaware
and asleep like a baby on the floor


Hmmmmm.....
that’s she-body dreaming of Prince Charming
who never showed up


zzzzz.....zzzzz...shhh.....zzzzz.
shhh....be quiet!.....zzzzz....
it’s the quiet of night
and everyone’s asleep...
so be quiet....zzzzzzzzzzz...

I’ve got my new sailor suit
my sailor suit
and I’ll  get on a ship
the biggest one on the oceans -
and I’ll sail away, sail away

Far to oceans on
the other side
I’ll sail in my ship
And my crew
they’ll steer us all
to distant lands
and lovely shores

We’ll see strange lands
and we’ll learn new games;
we’ll make new friends
and we’ll exchange gifts -
and we’ll sail away, sail away
with as many more ships
as want to follow

And then I ‘ll return
back home
and I’ll be on the prow
standing tall in my new sailor suit
And all those ashore will cry out aloud:
“Here comes our sailor
Here comes sailor Oskar
Clean and bright
in his sailor suit
as new as the day it was made”

I’ve got my new sailor suit
my sailor suit
and I’ll  get on a ship
the biggest one on the oceans -
and I’ll sail away, sail away

home is on the other side of the river
this evening as we row
singing the songs of our village
rowing back
as the sun goes to its own home
and each creature and life seeks its own
and we
from the same home
rowing across the river
let us sing
for the joys of the world
the songs of the birds
and the green of the earth
and love and ease and quiet
they await at home,
on the other side of the river
this evening as we row
singing the songs of our village
our home, our portion of earth
that lies yonder
past the water, just a while more
to the evening embrace of one's love
back home on the other side of the river

The preacher said
he was better
than the taxi-driver
because he showed
people, with all his words,
the way to Heaven

The taxi-driver said:
*"You might show them
the way to Heaven
but I show them the way
to God -
for everytime I start to drive
passengers start to pray
and they pray all the way
And I don't even have to say a word"

I scrub my armpits
I scratch the dirt off my back
I wash my nose and ears
And I’ll be honest -
I think I just ******!

**! Hey ah, po!
Jump in like fish and enjoy this water
It’s as cool as the touch of a woman
in mid-summer
Jump in and the water
is as generous as a woman in love
Who cares about the gods or Heaven
it’s water, water, that’s the beginning and the end
**! Hey ah, po!

I scrub my armpits
I scratch the dirt off my back
I wash my nose and ears
And I’ll be honest -
I think I just ******!

**, hay hay toh!
All clothes are gone
God can go jump into a pool
for all I care
All the power is in the fall of water
This is delight
This is joy, this waterfall and gathered water
I’m as naked as when I was born
well, except for the **** cloth
that covers the toys
that pleasure my woman
**, hay hay toh!

I scrub my armpits
I scratch the dirt off my back
I wash my nose and ears
And I’ll be honest -
I think I just ******!

"Ah, young Sir,
indeed it is in your lines on your smooth palm
as I indeed felt the moment
when I saw your noble face
and your inimitable manner…"

"What is it? What is it?
O speak your mind, young gypsy;
speak the truth, speak with no fear"


"Ah, young Sir
this curved line that runs
across your gentle palm tells
you must certainly have
some of the blood of the Caesars
running through those bold veins of yours"

"Ah, true, true indeed
sometimes I have felt it too"


"And, young Sir
this straight line that cuts that curve
on your most delicate palm
ah – it indicates even some lineage of prophets
and a history of past holy men
which line now culminates in you"

"Oh, indeed, indeed
I have had such intimations indeed
at the House of God when I kneel
in holy prayer;
and I have had such whispers
and stirrings within my *****…
indeed…indeed…"


And when the gypsy is gone
it is then that the young man
of such esteemed rank and high nobility
and of such holiness
he feels his gold ring also gone…

(Punch is playing the violin. Judy is on the couch, listening patiently. After some time, Punch stops playing and he speaks...)*


Punch:
Oh, Judy...life's so divine
for me
since I bought this
my first violin
two days ago...

Judy:
For me too, Punch...
Life's not been the same
since you brought the violin home...

Punch:
But oh, Judy - how's
my playing?
Two days I've played
making music -
and how good it is
you've not said!

Judy:
Oh Punch -
you should play on TV!

Punch:
Oh Judy - why, thank you...
Am I so good, darling?

Judy:
No, sweetie
- it's just that
if you were on TV
I could turn off the ****** thing!

slow time on the escalator
easy baby;
a life of leisure
and idle moments...
tra la la la li

head held high and proud
one foot on one step
and one foot lower:
it’s the picture of grace and ease;
it’s cool baby

stand leaning
with no care in the world
chatting with your friend
and let your new floral skirts
wipe clean the glass sides;
life’s a breeze
on the escalator,
fashion baby

hands on the handrail
and the other waving at friends
waiting at the end;
shake hands when you’re down
and pass the germs on
to your cheerful buddies;
O life’s a breeze
on the escalator,
bouncy baby

it’s like a slow-motion movie
this chic life on the escalator
as still as when you stand window-shopping
gazing at new lingerie on display
like admiring a field of flowers:
O live the moment
baby,
this escalator life’s cool and easy


slow time on the escalator
easy baby;
a life of leisure
and idle moments...
tra la la la li

strong wind blows
this morning
through bush and garden
through grove and orchard


1
the bamboo sways
and strokes the cheeks
of the palm tree
ha!ha!ha!

and the palm tree
protests loud and clear:
Take your hands off me
you bamboo lecher!
oh!oh!oh!

2
and the gum tree
scolds the dry leaves
of the lilli-pilly
that crawl to its ground:
Have you no respect
for private property?
Get back to your mummy!
tchk! tchk! tchk!


3
And the little blades of grass
sway left and right
and the mighty oak laughs:
Look at you! Look at you!
You sway like  clowns!
he!he!he!

4
And Strong Wind roars:
I just love it!
I just love to stir things up!
Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

1
Commander Alien outlines his strategy
for when visiting earth:
“We should not celebrate Christmas
so we don’t give away our presence”

2
one alien goes to the cat
and says to it:
“Take me to your litter!”
The other one turns to the gas pump and grunts:
“It’s really rude of you
to stick your fingers into your ears
When I’m talking to you!”


3
One alien goes into the shop
and orders his favorite tea items:
Gravi-tea and Mars-mallows

4
One alien goes to wash
in the meteor shower;
while the other comes to find
he’s had a ticket cos he
forgot to pay the parking meteor

5
But not all aliens are dumb though,
as this final tale will show

One alien goes to the pillar box
and tells the post box:
“Take me to your leader”
And the other alien shouts across:
*“Hey, you dumbo –
can’t you see he’s only a child!”

no, let's not step
into the mud of labels
and stereotypes
and pronouncements and revelations
and fixed descriptions
and prescriptions
and easy categories;
let's step out of that baptism;
let's see instead
fresh and new and clear;
mostly we glide through life
lolly-coated with projections
and consolations
and mental formations
our minds programed from day one
on spinning earth;
let's, instead, if possible,
be still a moment
and see what actually is

we three send you a song
over continents, over oceans
through centuries
hope this finds you well
better than we found our times
with plague, blind beliefs
and uncertainty about us
and fragile mortality and living on the edge
when life was not comfortable
which was often for us
we three send you a song
over continents, over oceans
through centuries
hope life’s better for you
O radiant humanity of the future
not that it was bad for us
but it’s logical to assume
things always get better
and so it’s utopia you must be in
as we send you this message
and your world must be ridden
of anxiety and worry
it must be times of peace and harmony
where the peoples of the world live together
like children of one family
thus we three send you a song
over continents, over oceans
through centuries*
and so in your ease and enlightened times
such as they must be
remember us by this painting by Lorenzo Costa
and also hum along to our tune
of goodwill and cheer
that you might imagine
and if you master the art of time-travel
come visit us, and we’ll give you a song
one that you can hear, one you can join in
and perhaps you’ll take us back along with you
to such happier, happier times
such joyous, joyous bright times
as yours must be
there in your distant century

the Japanese beauty of Edo
she sat delicate in the garden;
she observed the cheery blossoms:
the beauty
the stillness
the quite
and
the blossoms faded almost days after
and the beauty -
O she too followed the way
of the blossoms;
and here I am ages after
and I long for the beauty
impossible to touch
and who sat in the garden

home is on the other side of the river
this evening as we row
singing the songs of our village
rowing back
as the sun goes to its own home
and each creature and life seeks its own
and we
from the same home
rowing across the river
let us sing
for the joys of the world
the songs of the birds
and the green of the earth
and love and ease and quiet
they await at home,
on the other side of the river
this evening as we row
singing the songs of our village
our home, our portion of earth
that lies yonder
past the water, just a while more
to the evening embrace of one's love
back home on the other side of the river

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

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

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

countless generations of bards and preachers
and poets and sages
and honorable and revered members
of our respectable societies
countless such generations
have spoken and declaimed
have sung and serenaded
on goodness and cruelty and avarice -
and yet put them in power,
and scrutinize their lives
and their words
become thin
and their lives shallow
and their songs are cherubic lies;
a long line of saints and philosophers
and prophets
and mild-mannered selfless carers
ah such holy stewards
a long line indeed
has nurtured humanity, its sick and downtrodden
and radiates love in all directions
but oh scrutinize their actions and
their motives
their lives are but comic contradictions
pathetic self-delusion;
ah, let me not seek to change the world
but see to myself first
rather than jump into
hot-air sermons and vain exhibitions

1)
see the yurei
the ghost of Oyuki…
hair free of the ornate pins
and scattered over her shoulders
she hovers in her white robe
her hands loose
and she’s covered in mist below her waist
she has a smile, her eyes turned inward
and you had better not wish
she’d cast her glance on you
just a look, just a glance

2)
Oyuki was the sweet love
of Maruyama Okyo
Oyuki was as delicate
as the plum blossoms outside her window
she sang songs of love
and covered Okyo with sweet kisses
Ah, she was young
and she played the shamisen
and she had such pleasing arts
and uttered such words
they lingered days and nights in Okyo’s mind
But she died young…
beautiful, like the cherry blossoms in the morning
and gone, faded in the evening

3)
and at nights
all Okyo could see
in dreams and in the dark
was gentle Oyuki, sweet Oyuki
hovering in the mist
floating, lingering, smiling
in his dreams, and in the dark
and he painted, Okyo painted
the Ghost of Oyuki
a portrait of his beloved Oyuki
and that freed him into sleep and peace
into quiet and calm


4)
but at nights
if you see
in dreams and in the dark
the form and beauty of Oyuki
floating, lingering, smiling
in your dreams and in the dark
then you must offer a petal, a dumpling
or what must please her
so she will go, that
gentle Oyuki, sweet Oyuki
or you might offer her a poem,
a soothing one
as I did, and she might plant a cold kiss on your cheek
a cold one
as she flits past, gliding away in all the mist
to see who she might catch
with no love of art, with no skill to please

1)   Zushi and Anju


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

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

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

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

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



2)  Live brother

Live, brother -
and go now, for
you must go seek mother;
seek her where she is abused
in Sato;
and Oh - what they have done
to our mother, a woman without her man
one cannot know
But O brother,
find mother and give her back her life
and as for me
our masters cannot extract any word
about where you hide and what you intend
and how you escaped  
for all they will find
is water in my mouth and in my body
for I will be in water
as when I lived in mother’s womb
But live you brother, and flee
and hide till they think you are gone
and seek our dear mother
and free her
and give her back the life  
give her the precious gift of life
the same precious life
she gave you and me



3) Come home to mother


Zushio
O Anju
dearest children
where are you?
are you well?
has time been
a gentle foster mum
or a witch that eats
children’s hearts?
O Zushio
O Anju
children
of the just -
do you think of mother
and does your father’s wise words
still reside in your hearts?
O Zushio
O Anju
dearest children
where do you sleep at nights
and what do you wake up to each day?
Zushio
O Anju
my children
come home to mother
for always I wait for you



4)     Way of the just


Yes Sirs,
I know you say
it is easier
to live the life of the unjust
to protect one’s own comfort
and powers and position
and seek to satisfy one’s own appetites
and be one with the group to secure oneself
and keep the less fortunate out
and to increase one’s own fortunes and ease
by increasing the powers of one’s group -
but Sirs,
I have taught my children
and I live what I teach:
Let justice be one’s way
and do good to all
though it may be inconvenient to oneself…

And now, Sirs,
you have come to teach me
for you would do good to none but to your own group
for the good you do your group will protect you
though others may crawl the earth in misery;  
but I, Sirs - I find it easier
to walk what you call
the difficult way of inconvenience




5)   Satisfy my desires


Come woman
you must satisfy man’s desires
and fill the pockets of your master

You have not learned this
and you yearn after
your husband and children
far removed;
and ungrateful to your owner
you run off from the quarters

It takes time
woman
it takes energy and resources
and money to drag you back
and it stirs rebellion amongst the other girls

It is simple, you see:
you must satisfy man’s desires
and fill the pockets of your master;
and it is even simpler:
you break a rule
we break your feet;
we cut your tendons
so you can never run
You’ll be made useless to yourself
if you are determined to be useless to the owner
And you’ll be an example
to the other girls
an example to inspire fear and obedience

Come woman
teach by example:
you must satisfy man’s desires
and fill the pockets of your master




6) Zushio and mother



SON:

O mother
forgive me your son
for I could not bring sister
alive back to you
for time delivered her
into the hands of the unjust
and she chose a lake
as her burial ground;
father died in his exile
and all I bring to you now is myself
with nothing in my hands
for poverty and misery has been the reward
of the just and the righteous;
I lived by father’s words
of compassion and love and justice -
O dearest mother,
and the world proved a cruel master




MOTHER:

Though we are left
with nothing the world can see
nothing the world can measure by
there is the love one has…
O Zushio, my child -
and may that love sustain me, you
and may that love sustain all beings;
O Zuhsio, my child
see your life’s journey this way:
May no harm befall any being
may all beings live in peace;
may all beings be happy
and no harm ever come to one  
through my deeds and actions




7 )   Sansho’s philosophy


one comes to this life  
and one must seek comfort
and ease and one’s status
and this comes through careful nurture
and meticulous culture;
wealth and power flows from one to another
and one’s ease comes through the  discomfort of the other –
the fool must fill the coffers of the cunning;
the weak must prop up the strong
and so this is the secret of life
and one must  seek a group that can sustain one
and one must sustain that group too
and so keep all others in place under thumb, toe and fist
and so that  the ease one comes to in life
flows constant like the rich living rivers





8)   The family

There may be journeys we undertake;
there will be long departures
and separations
There will be pain and agony
and each may be taken
from the other
And yet, yet - O gentle heart
yet the bonds will live and bring back one to one;
yet the bonds of mother, child, father, brother and sister
these bonds will surpass all pain;
and the family, that bond of love
that will live, that love will radiate
no matter what the world shall deal and ******
into one’s hearts and hands
O hold on to that love
that love of father, son
man, woman
mother and daughter and brother and sister
for that is all, that love is all that lasts and endures

(Warning: The following poem is a tale of horror)
_______________

1
E­at your food
pleaded the mom

Or else what?
shouted the stubborn child

Please eat your food
entreated the grandma

Or else what?
screamed the ungrateful child

Or else, said the father
the barber will come in when we are out
and he'll snip off your fingers


2
And true enough, one evening
when all the adults were out
a barber appeared before the child
and he said: Eat your food

Or else what? shouted the brat of a child

And when the adults returned that night
they found ten little fingers
all neatly displayed on the dining table

don’t be dashing round
oh you so young and dashing dash;
so energetic –
you just bewilder us all

O dash –
what a dash you make for it;
O dash –
what surprises you have in store

O dash –
you’re not connective tissue
like the hyphen;
but dash -
you are a more dramatic fellow

I did use you once, dash -
but my sentence tripped and fell;
so now when I call on you
I ensure I’ve got you tied –
like a dog to the leash


don’t be dashing round
oh you so young and dashing dash;
so energetic –
you just bewilder us all

See see Papa Trench Bottom
dig in the mines happily, laugh ha ha happily
and drink at night and hear him
snore before the day
happy happy Papa Trench Bottom
he he he he he ha ha happy happy
at home and at work
See see Mama Big Bottom
she she she he he ha ha happy
Dance happily Cook with joy
toss with levity
and puts dishes aplenty on the table
for all in the family to eat and be merry
See see Teenage Tough Dude
he he he happily walks in the streets
Cool at school
Very Pop with the babes
and eating lots at home, with gravity
very serious in look, sparse in his words
but loves his mom, dad and sis
deep deep within, ha ha happily happily
Happy Happy Teenage Cool Dude
And see Sister Barbie Doll Pretty
Curls and dimples and cute smiles all
Happy hours in the ha ha bathroom
many more hours texting and chatting
and lots and lots of FaceTime
Happy happy walking ****
all the way to work
and chirping all day like a Paradise Bird
at work at the Rainbow Fast Food Outlet
happy happy talking talking all workday
Ah See Happy happy he he he
she she she happy happy Family
Trench Bottom family he he he
and she she she all day and night
Happy happy Trench Bottoms
Happy happy he he ha ha Happy Family always

1
Marion Island, 2011 and 2008


The fur seal courts the king penguin
runs after it,
as if the penguin were a desirable female seal
and then fails
(it’s just not possible physically;
and hey, the girl says NO!)
and then tears the bird to bits
and eats it

(if you can't ***** it
you eat it)

maybe that fur seal is a loser
chased out by other dominant seals
all female seals taken for the season
and so tries in desperation
to gain entry into a penguin

2
like other losers
many life-forms do it, it seems
insects, spiders, worms, frogs
birds and fish – they just do it…
chaotic with testosterone,
exiled from female receptacles
where you pour in *****

1
Bang! Bang!
****-gang! ****-****,
Ting-a-****!

O, all day
Nasrudin
is making all this din
in his home
beating drums and his pots and pans


Hee-haw! Hee-haw!
Hee-haw – haw!haw!haw!
Hee-haw!

And his Donkey too
all day
master and Donkey
making all this noise

2
O Nasrudin, why
do you make this din and noise -
you and your Donkey
all day long?


3
O, says Nasrudin,
Donkey and I are
trying to frighten away
all tigers and wild animals
to keep away from our town

But Nasrudin – there’s isn’t a single tiger
or a wild animal
a thousand miles
round our town!

See! says Nasrudin
Our method works!

Hee-haw! Hee-haw!
Donkey agrees

it’s been ages, since I retired
from the palaces of ambitions and envy
and the centers of power

unyoked myself of all relations
and what is praised as love
but is the self seeking satisfaction
in the other

and removing myself came here
in discrete voluntary exile
built myself
a little home
amongst the mountains and solitary woods

and the humble folk since offer me food
and provisions
for what I might teach their children
of calligraphy and brush work


the years have gone past in non-action and peace;
but here too there is the occasional tension:
a road to be built to the Capital City
demanded trees and woods and two hills;
and the soldiers and distant police turn up at the doors
to inquire who lives here
and why I am alone


but still, the years pass gentle
and my silence and solitude
time offers me
with a smile

the comma
a most prosaic-looking fellow
never gets into a coma
though he’s useful enough
to give you a pause or break;
the comma separates and lists
and where the word-traffic may be in danger of crashing
into one another, bumper to bumper
the comma comes in like road markers
and ensures smooth flow:
don’t kiss bumpers; kiss your commas

1)
I have long wondered
of the tri- in trickery
(those of you privy
to the arcane secrets of etymology
will know
tri- is three, as in trinity
and triple and trivium)
and so I have many aeons meditated
on the 3 in trickery

2)
and recently
on a trip (what’s the 3 in trip?)
to the University
of Matters Ancient and Abstruse
I uncovered this manuscript
that reveals all the 3 in Trickery:

“It behooves him who will master Trickery
to attach himself to a Teacher
so he may be Trained
(which is the first of the 3)

And so he may be Trimmed in thought
to focus on the act entirely
(thus the second of the 3)

And last comes the Treat
wherein the thief Treats himself
to the victim’s property;
and thus in these 3 stages
do the cunning ever shift
into their own pockets
that which belongs to the unwary”

3)
And thus, dear readers, was the mystery
of the 3 in trickery
resolved for me
as I hope it is for you;
but you might now want to see
if the money is still in your digital wallet
for - keeping you distracted,
and unknown to you  -
I have just practiced all 3 in Trickery

in their disguised self-centered ways, the faithful are obsessed with going to Heaven and staying away from Hell


1
all the faithful,
these holy believers,
they all fear this address:
No.1 HELL, OUTSIDE UNIVERSE,
POSTAL CODE: 0001
all the faithful
want to avoid this place like, well, hell!


the non-believers just take it easy;
they have no such obsessions


all the faithful, the holy believers
they all aspire to this place:
ONLY 1, HEAVEN, DIVINE UNIVERSE,
POSTAL CODE: 0001
they all try and get there
and with their narrow True Only One Way
they think they'd get there anyway
easy as if you'd googled for Heaven


the non-believers just take it easy;
they have no such obsessions



2

and well, if the faithful are always imagining what God sanctions
and says, I don't see why their opposites can't also imagine what this Grand Supposition says



and in their aspirations,
to reach
ONLY 1, HEAVEN, DIVINE UNIVERSE,
POSTAL CODE: 0001
the faithful
***** the planet earth
with all their doctrines
and their aggression
and their violence
and their narrowness and bigotry
and their holiness and their obsessions
and creating constant divisions
and so I can sympathize
with their supposed God becoming sane
and thus declaring to the faithful:
Oh no, I'm not letting you ******* in
as surely you'll make a Hell of Heaven;
I'd rather let in the non-believers here anytime
at least they don't have your hang-ups and perversions





conclusion

well, the poor faithful then, the holy faithful wholly excluded, they'll have to content themselves with Googling for Heaven, and viewing the streets of Heaven on Google Maps of the Divine World

Yes, I have tried,
Sir Butterflies
O Butter Smooth and Red Samurai
I have tried to be carefree
like you both
like your eminent selves
flitting from one plant to another
not attached or fond of one
but coming and going as in necessity
I have tried
Sir Butter Smooth and Red Samurai
to be free of time
like you both
like your eminent selves
careless of the past
or what is to come
but still my mind wanders
into the inadequacies of the past
and the promises of the future
so that
O Sir Butterflies
Butter Smooth and Red Samurai
I am weighed down by attachment
and am pained by time
unlike you happy butterflies
merry and free
your life always in the moment…
Perhaps
Sir Butterflies
O Butter Smooth and Red Samurai
you should teach me…

Hey, celebrate the loser
not just the victor
it's OK that you don't always win
like the time
your little sister could find the answer
to a Year 10 math question
and you couldn't do it
though you were older

it's OK...to be a loser, not a winner always
like the time you argued and argued
and turned out you were wrong
but you just slipped away quietly
and you've suppressed it in your memory

it's OK if you don't have stories
to tell of your victories always
and how others were wrong
and you were right
or others have no principles and ethics
how you are the 90%winner
or everyone else is ******* the planet
it's OK to be the loser
and to celebrate the loser in you
and I don't say this
because of some liberating paradox like
winners start from being losers -
but simply it's OK to celebrate losing
just losing oneself in the loser
Have no other thought in the moment -
*it's OK to celebrate the loser