Girls, do not giggle...
I know you like to giggle
but I, Glum Master of the Universe,
don’t like it;
so don’t giggle
You can have pink
you can have ice-cream
you can have gossip
you can still facebook and laugh
and drink coke and sugary drinks;
you can have candy floss
and eat processed food till your teeth yellow -
but giggle? No…
so what am I, Glum Master of the Universe,
going to do about it if you giggle?
Oh, I’ll send Miss Tornado
and Cold Moon
and Violent Thunderstorm
before and after and over you
all those girls who giggle
if you don’t listen to me,
Glum Master of the Universe…
so, girls, do not giggle…

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

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

earthquakes
and such disasters
are caused by immodest women;
if you are wise you will see this truth


women
indecently dressed
and accentuating contours
cause excitement in vigorous young men;
if you are spiritual you will see this truth


the men who thus get excited
(and it’s all the women’s fault, you will agree)
and so are led astray by such women
and this causes adultery
and such immorality which
results in seismic activity
and so you have earthquakes;
if you are pure you will see this truth


it’s true
because adulterers
do it more vigorously
hence the earth trembles
more readily

I bring you flowers
dear Sirs and Ladies;
flowers of softness
for most gentle souls
and flowers in full bloom
for most radiant beings



here I bring flowers
that I plucked just now
and that, exquisite ones,
dignified Sirs and gentle Ladies –
most delicate flowers I have
that are red and blue and green
and of many hues and all colors
that the hills and the air and the clouds
have coaxed and brought to our earth


I have flowers
and that most beautiful
that I have brought from
the fields and valleys
with the scents of the angels
and aroma that come
from the rolling hills


O most
dignified Sirs and gentle Ladies –
I have brought you these flowers
that grow in abundance in our hills
O will you not pick what
delights your hearts
from my ample baskets
and happily fill my purse in return?


I bring you flowers
dear Sirs and Ladies;
flowers of softness
for most gentle souls
and flowers in full bloom
for most radiant beings

O come
gentle persons all
and listen to the woeful tale
of an unfortunate lover

1
I pitied Cinderella
and knocked at her door
when everyone was away
and I sang:
Come, run away with me
and I shall look after you -
all the days of my life
all the days of yours

Get lost,* she said.
I’ve a premonition
of glass slippers
and Princes and castles

2
And so I went to fair Verona
to see if Juliet would
give me her hand
but it was her father
who showed me the toughness
of his servant’s hands

3
And ah, I went to Rapunzel
and I said:  Oh, let down your hair
and I’ll come to you;
and I’ll find a way for both of us
to run away to better lands


Get lost,  she said
You don’t look like a man
who can afford to get
me the best shampoo
and golden diamond-studded hairclips -
new ones everyday
for my hairdo

4
And so I waited
for Cleopatra
till Brutus and the conspirators
stuck their daggers into Caesar
and I went to her mansions
but the guards seized me and they said:
You ever heard of Cleopatra’s needles?
Where’d you like us
to stick them in you?


5
and so, desperate,
I went to **** myself
back in Verona
in the family crypt of the Capulets
and woe is me -
I really don’t know why -
but I’m thrown into prison now
*‘for the ****** of two’

out goes
software developer
web designer
computer ****
mercahndise managers

vacancies now:
virtchandise manager
cloud transformation officers
outcome aggregator
data evangelist
sensemaking analyst
sales ninja
digital dynamo
happiness advocate
online community facilitator
web funster


*you ready?

"Mom, mom,"*  calls Susie
back home after school
in her new spurt of teenage energy
"I've decided:
when I grow up
I'm going to be a pop singer"

"But sweetheart," says mom,
the cool one
classy at all times
*"You know you can't do both"

Ah, you ask
what the origin is of the word pharaoh
Let me assure you first
such questions need to be asked
and you have come to the right person
for I am an antimologist
one specialized in the study of the origin of words

1
Let us consider....pharaoh...pharaoh...pharaoh...
Ah, I have it...the answer retrieved
from the safe confines and treasuries
in the deepest recesses of my mind....

The pharaoh
was so called
for these rulers were,
in spite of the scorching heat and unforgiving sun,
these rulers were always fair
and never became dark
and so that clears the mystery of the first half of pharaoh

2
And moreover, it is revealed in the papyri
and graffiti in the tombs
these Pharaohs could row -
even as Rulers these Pharaohs could row -
you know
row, row, row your boat
and they could row
the full length and breadth of the Nile

And thus from the 2 Divine attributes
of FAIR and ROW  
came the title: PHARAOH


3
But....but...but! you say
Ah, I know, I know - you are about to ask
why then is the word spelt as PHARAOH
and not as FAIRROW?
Ah, such questions you have this morning -
what are you on?
Too much sugar and candy floss last night?


Well, you are lucky as I’m not only an antimologist
but also an IsDorian
and so I shall dispel your doubts at once:
It’s simple - remember they were Ancient Egyptians
and these Ancient Egyptians did not know their English well
and so instead of the proper English FAIRROW
they gave us the mangled PHARAOH -
and let us not be too ******* them
as you also recall this was all in the infancy of human civilization
and we shall be graceful enough in our maturity to accept these errors,
for after all, these Ancient Egyptians were but as children
in the History of Human Motion

And I hope I have now dispelled your morning perturbations
as  I rowed you over
the rivers of knowledge of antimology, IsDory
and  the secret knowledge of FAIRROW and the PHARAOH

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

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

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

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


(2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

then I tried the stage
me an actor, the thespian  
(Shakespearean, Greek tragedian
you know)
"Man and the arms I sing" - like that -
and so the director told me
I'd come on stage left,
a dramatic moment
amidst full sound effects
(and full house, of course)
and I would proclaim:
"O ye Gods, and O ye elements
and O ye thunder - rage on, rage on
for I fear not"

and I so galloped on stage
amidst full sound effects
(and full house, of course)
but I was confused by the sudden
and raging thunder above my head
and I proclaimed instead:
"What the **** was that?"


*And so ended my stage career
as it began
with a bang

1)
See, **** Susan is on holiday
and she's made her way
to the hotel roof
on her second day
**** Susan takes off her dress
and in her bikini
she sunbathes on the roof
"Ah, this is the life," she says
"The sun and the roof all to myself"

2)
See, **** Susan on her third day
this time
sunbathing stark naked
on the roof
and she turns over
with her buttocks to the sky
and the native  hotel bellboy
comes running up
and panting
and from an official distance he says:
"Madam, I humbly beg you
put on bikini at least
like you did yesterday"

And see **** Susan smirking
and she says:
"What's the problem,  kid?
No one's gonna see me here"

"But madam," says the cringing native
*"You are lying face down
on our high-tech one-way vision
dining-hall skylight roof"

Hey, elegant cat,
you think you can
rest there sitting so prim and well-brought up
and think I’ll bring you some sparrows I catch
on from the tree-top?
You got to move your ****, brother;
Sparrows don’t fall off trees like ripe fruit
for you to pick from the ground, you know.
Or maybe you don’t know.
And I’m not going to be doing the work
for you, wild cat and friendless as I am.
I live on my own, catch my own sparrows
and eat my own dinner
and lick my lips and I sleep under the shade of the tree
when my tummy’s full
and sure, that’s all I care about
getting my daily meals.
And not even in your wildest dreams, hey well-washed cat,
not even in your wildest dreams
do I have desire to share bird meat and bones with anyone
and especially not with an elegant rich-home cat like you…
Well, you can have the feathers, if you like.
Now really, how did a nice cat like you get lost?
Is this your day out or what?
Some kind of an expedition day?
You want a sparrow to eat?
Get your fat **** here up the tree
with as much stealth as you can
and catch yourself one!
And you stupid cat from comfy rooms
having sat your **** on soft cushions all your life –
stop meow-meowing with hunger! – you’ll scare the birds away,
you unnatural, unnatural domesticated cat!
You know, you’d be better off using your powers of sight
and finding your way back
from wherever you came from and get back
to mummy’s home asap.
Go stand under some lamp post where they might have a
Cuddly Cat Lost sign
and someone might bring you to your owner for a reward.
No way you going to survive in the open, brother!

I was watching TV
and the topic on the Geriatrics Show
was Life Support Systems -
you know, about how people are kept
on pipes and machines and tubes and liquid
and I hollered to my wife in the kitchen:
“Darling, if ever I become life-dependent
on liquids and machines, just get rid of ‘em
and free me…”

“Sure thing,” my faithful wife said
and she turned off the TV
and my cell phone and my laptop
and she emptied my bottles of wine and whisky
and then she turned to me and she said:
*“I just freed you.”

the curved mountains are at their own
unconcerned, lofty and as is
far and near
and the hills too
gathered and in groups
one here, solitary and a cluster there
some stained by a previous fire,
now most smothered in snow…
and the bamboo, scattered and thin
and resisting and resilient, and the rocks
unmoved, silent, witnessing…
and so it is my mind with all its thoughts
and feelings and emotions, all its clusters of memes
and its storms and violence and depth…
and there is the observing, and there is the silence
that hovers over it all…the stillness that is always waiting,
as the freshness in the mountains and hills
the being as bamboo is what it is

darling moon
dear moon
do not be offended
we have stripped you
down to rock and a plain face
and we show pictures of you
in black, gray and white;
and though a writer of verse,
in this verse,
I strip you of your romance and aura;
be not angry
for after all,
you will understand,
we are children who come after
Galileo
and Neil Armstrong

Where Purity is the Covering of All Flesh
and no private part of the human body
may be shown
and thus where the lack of Purity is Dishonesty
and therefore are Dishonest Paintings
wherein are depicted female ******* and such
buttocks and navel
and where genitalia female or male
asleep or awake
and such are shown
and crotches and such flesh and curvatures
may arouse
such being Dishonest Paintings
the Eminent Guardians of Purity
announce multiple positions vacant
of Reviewer of Dishonest Paintings
and so to cover up with black paint any signs of *******
and so of any other part of images in such paintings
as buttocks cover up with black paint
and so on each Dishonest part of human anatomy
to be covered with black paint
and in this task one always to use a firm, long brush -
the longer and firmer the better for the Soul -
so that
one may not come too close to such obscenities
as coming close one may be aroused to ***** desires
in male
(Females need not apply for said position
for such lascivious creatures are always
in a state of wet desires)
and so in covering with black paint
the Sanctity and the Will of Heaven prevails
and human souls transported to Divine Ecstasy
at the sight of paintings with black holes
corrected by expert Reviewer of Dishonest Paintings
and such positions to be filled
by honest men firm in their resolve
and long in stamina and determination
they should arrange their own transport
for various locations in the Holy Empire
for indeed Various Positions are available
and while the renumeration is handsome
derived from confiscation of properties and means
of the Perpetrators
of those Works of Perfidy and Damnation
those Artists who produce and who engender
Dishonest Paintings and such Works
and far more too included in Renumeration
is the Seat of Purity in Heaven -
O the pay shall be Eternal Heaven
Apply directly and in person
at the South Wall of the Grand House of Divinity -
put your scrolls in the holes

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

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

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

And so there was an end to the discord

in Indonesia and Malaysia
they call her Pontianak:
she’s the cool hantu, spirit -
she lives in the banana trees;
she died in childbirth
and as she did she saw the joy
in her husband’s eyes
and so she hangs out in the nights:
she wants to eat every unfaithful man’s heart



1
the poor woman died
giving birth to a child
and still the woman lives
a ghost, undead –
to seek her revenge on men
for they showed no care, no love


2
so do not hang your clothes
outside to dry
for Pontianak will sniff you out
and will not rest
till she eats you inside out




3
she loves men -
well, it’s hate
and so she loves to eat men;
and so men, when you are alone
and you see this beautiful woman
alone in the dark somewhere in the deserted streets
and there’s the scent
don’t give in to the charm
for that’s Pontianak
and she’ll smell horrid after
but you’ll be severed body parts by then


4
push a needle with string
into the banana tree
and wait at the other end
with the string ending in a cup -
and you’ll hear Pontianak laugh and screech
in your improvised phone
in the middle of the night



5
and you never know -
your neighbor’s gorgeous wife
may be a Pontianak;
a hantu tamed with
a nail in her neck;
a gorgeous babe
till the iron nail is pulled out

it is Little Amy’s
first set of crayons
and so she grabs one
and scrawls
like mad and crazy
on the sketch pad
on the floor and on the walls;
and the crayon discovers
in a matter of hours
what humans take years to understand:
*life is short

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?
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
for first dates only
O you are going to have a good quiet sleep aren’t you
and you won’t offer any surprises to the world?
not today?

you might get a chill in bed
if you leave the windows open
in cold nights
and push away the quilt or blanket
all through sleep;
you can get comfort and peace
for a while at least
digging into bed
and covering yourself in
like an ostrich with its head in the sand;
you can get sick in bed
or you get, over time,
a bad back
in a bad bed;
or you get *** in bed
and or get lots of love;
you get coffee in bed,
or breakfast;
but you can also get
thrown out of bed;
or if you’re convincing enough
you can pretend to be sick
and they’ll even bring dinner to you in bed;
and you can have dreams and nightmares
and so travel even while in bed
and live every unknown layer in your mind;
you could, let’s face it, die in bed;
or if still alive
you can get wet dreams
and so get wet;
you can get sweet words whispered
or words uttered that split the bed;
you can spend time in bed
you can make plans in bed
and create empires or just build castles in bed
though there’s no sand or rocks about;
and you can dream in bed and work out your
inhibitions and delusions;
you can get ideas in bed
inspiration for a poem or the next great novel;
you can get
hugs and kisses
snuggles and pillow talk;
and pillow fights and sleepovers;
or perhaps, if you’re just born,
the comfort of lullabies

you know Poet Archetypal -
everything about him
was Poe-tickle
When he sneezed
he said: Haiku!
When introduced
to someone,  he'd say:
"Haven't we met-a-phor?"
He's quite resourceful
like he'd introduced himself to the girl
because he wanted to meter
When he took his leave he'd say:
"Love to stay - but it's getting a-lliter-ate"
And sure he met Luke Skywalker
and said to him: "Met-a-phors with you"


It was fun having him around
but lately he's been in prison
for driving without poetic license;
and also because his creditors pursued him
because he just Ode so much

I am Sarah Malcolm -
yes, the one they call the Irish Laundress
and the jury found me guilty of the murders
(the Infamous Murderess)
of Mrs Lydia Duncomb,
Mrs Harrison and the servant Ann Price
in Mrs Lydia’s chamber
at the Inns of Court in the Temple;
and the jury only needed 15 minutes

and there was disbelief when I admitted to robbery
but not ******
and there was disgust
when I said the blood on my clothing was my own menstrual blood
and not the blood of Ann Price:
I had broken a taboo in talking of menstrual blood
for, as they say,
only loose and the not so virtuous women speak that way

and of course even after the judgement
I have been deemed even more guilty
for I am of a different Communion
of the Catholic faith, not Anglican -
just as the Ordinary, James Guthrie described me
in instructing me here at Newgate on the Christian faith;
and I have earned the name now of many
as the evil, barbaric, and stubborn woman

And now Mr Hogarth sketches and paints
that you might have a view of me;
and the appointed date is 7 March 1733
when I will be executed...
and these lines I add to the picture
that you might remember me

It’s all in a librarian’s day
surrounded by books
and serving people who pretend
to be book lovers
when they’ve just come in to escape
the heat or the winter cold

Books for Politicians?
Try the Fiction Section
Books on Houdini?
I’m afraid they’ve all disappeared
Books on Camouflage?
They’re in the Computers Section –
of course it makes sense, just think about it
Books on Suicide?* – They’re on the third floor
but be warned: once borrowed, they’re never returned
Just like books on amnesia are usually returned, if ever,
long past due date
Books on Making Money On The Stock Exchange?
We used them all for toilet paper
during the GFC Library Fund Cuts

Recommended titles in Romantic Fiction?
“I’ll Love You Forever” “Faithful All Days”
“My Life Is Yours – Absolutely”  “Love, Yes; ***, No”
“Only You Count” “Guide To A Happy Marriage”

The Classics Section? – That’s where we keep the books
which are most praised, but least read
and most people don’t go past the Contents page
and a decent percentage give up reading forever

Did you find the movie better than the book?
Well, you should never judge a book by its movie

Yeah, thieves never break into libraries
cos they know the judge will give them long sentences

*Oh, thank you for your concern -
I just slipped cos, after all, this is non-friction section

1
Recently prolific
Writing reactions…
Yeah, not prolific producing babies
or sowing wild oats
Just this unimaginative, pedestrian activity:
Writing reactions
Still prolific at my age….

2
explicit?
No, no, no - me no explicit…
don’t have the ***** to be that
but everything is implicit
like if I write about some aspect of life
it’s all there:
the routine, ***, violence, and so on
isn’t everything implicit?

3
POETS
New and popular
OK...
how about the
POETS
New and Unpopular?


4
OK, I like this guy or gal,
right?
and so I click on LIKE
and the next time I look at it
it says: LIKED
Hey, I still LIKE her!
Look, I still LIKE him!
And why can’t I click on LIKE on my own page?
What’s the matter, can’t I like myself?
Is that a strange notion –
Don’t you guys and gals like yourselves?

1
Well, I've dated a few guys, sure -
you know, being Ms Hyphen
I'm sociable, like to bring people together
that sort of thing
So I dated that guy Exclamation Mark
and what the hell, he was shouting all the time!
He's just too excitable, not my type

Sure, Comma was more sedate
but a little too slow for me, you know
So I gave guys like Inverted Commas and Parenthesis
a try - but hell, they were always trying to frame me
So I like said to myself, maybe I'll try someone else
from the Mark family, and woooh! - this guy
was like questioning me all through dinner
and I was like thinking to myself:
What's with this guy? Where does he work?
At the NSA or FBI or what?
I guess you know who I'm talking about

Well, I dated all the other guys too
like Semi-Colon and then Colon
but you know, one liked to separate;
and the other was always out
with his smartphone
listing things I said

2
So I nearly gave up dating when I thought -
Hey what about Dash?
That's a dashing fellow surely
and he seems to be just like me
(except he is - as is apt for a guy - long)
but he was just like Semi-Colon -
always separating people
You got to bring people together
in this world, you know;
that's what this world needs

Yes, I dated Full Stop too
but he was always getting me to stop
and besides, he said his alias was Period -
now that freaked me out, you know
Hey, what kind of guy walks around
with a name like Period?

I'll tell you like who's the worst guy to date, OK -
that's Apostrophe:
O listen darling, was he ever so possessive!

3
Well, I'll give my dating career a break -
maybe come next year,
I might try dating 2nd of February

smooth like a breeze
let us move, let us walk
in this snow

Crow and Heron
they might call us;
those who see
my clothes in black
and yours in white
as light as falling snow

let us go
gently together
elegant and ephemeral
under one umbrella
close, warm
my arm on your delicate shoulders
and those who know
they will say:
See, the eternal couple walk
Heron and Crow
Ying and yang
Never appearing never going
But always being

Let us walk
smooth and precious
side by side, while fools think
there are times or moments in our lives;
while the wise know
we are always being –
not within time, not within segments
but Crow and Heron
beyond concept and ideation

Boys, I warn you, you are not
to look at Twinkle Girls;
I, Glum Master of the Universe, command
that none of you boys
look at those Shiny Girls who
are Bright as Stars
and so are called Twinkle Girls –
remember, you are not to look at
or wink at Twinkle Girls.
You can, O you immature boys
you can chase butterflies
and climb trees and fall off them and break your legs
but chasing Twinkle Girls,
no – I expressly forbid you from such a pursuit.
Twinkle Girls always come with a chime and charm
still, when they pass by and their scent gets into your mind
you are to poke your noses into your books
and you will contemplate the secrets of addition and subtraction
and the intricacies of algebra
until they pass you by…
Look, boys – you can have computer games
and you can play role-play games
and you can twitter and text
and you can steal cookies from the pantry when mom’s not looking
and you can spend the whole day
at websites your parents told you to stay away from –
but looking at Twinkle Girls,
that, I, Glum Master of the Universe,
I expressly forbid
And what will I, Glum Master of the Universe,
do about it if you ogle at  those Twinkle Girls who giggle?
I’ll amend the Books that Surely Lead to Heaven
so boys like you will all end up in Hell…
So, if you want to go to Heaven and eat for free
without mom nagging at you to be neat
and you want to play computer games for all eternity –
boys, I warn you, you are not
to look at Twinkle Girls…

In the old days
when I was a nobody
I needed a mentor
in order to groom me into success
into self-actualisation and to bring
all my dreams into reality
and so I found a mentor
and I learned of him the 3 principles
to success and complete achievement
And yes, since you ask,
I shall pass on to you the 3 principles
that my mentor had learned from someone before

And I hope you in turn
will pass on this secret
of the 3 Principles
to nobodies who might come
knocking at your door


PRINCIPLE 1
Know what you want

PRINCIPLE 2
Never tell them all that you know

1
I don’t know
about you
but my fingernails
they keep growing
like Pinnochio’s nose;
I pare them
and keep them neat and short
and when I look again a week later
they’ve grown and seem to say:
So what you’re going to do about it?
It’d be alright if you were a woman,
but as a man
everyone expects you to keep us short and neat.


Oh, I just can’t bear
these decades of nail-taunting
and my computer calculations show
a quarter of my life is wasted trimming my fingernails
and with a quarter in sleep
half my life is gone between nails and snores

Well now -
I’m never again cutting my fingernails
I’ll just let them grow
and grow;
and as far as I care
they can grow like Jack’s beanstalk


2
Sure, the concerned
amongst you might say:
Oh, that’s not a good idea
to let your fingernails grow

But to you, I say:
Have you even considered
the advantages if I had long fingernails?
I could literally reach out to you
wherever you are
and not just through the internet
but with the help of GPS technology
and google maps
I could locate you precisely
and give you a tickle!
Now, wouldn’t you love that!



3
And when I’m famous
a fingernail celebrity
and people come to meet me
and want to shake my hands
I’d say: Hey, shake my nails instead!

And if I’m walking in the streets
and anyone wants my help, I’d say:
Yeah – you scratch my back
and I scratch yours!


4
And of course you might say
(Oh how so concerned you are):
But how will you use your keyboard
to type your awful nail-biting poems?
And so I say to you:
Hey, where do you live?
In a cave in Siberia or what?
Haven’t you heard of speech to voice technology?

And so, dear friends,
I don’t know about you
but it’s long nails for me
and if somewhere in the world
as you are driving or reading a book
or while at a picnic
if you see nails reaching out to you
from across the oceans and skies
and giving you a tickle,
you know it’s me, your nail-some friend….

I hate my girl
Why?
Cos she’s a *******

On every date she just messes me up
The first one we were on
I said:
“Doesn’t this date
just make you long for another?”
And she answers:
“Oh, yes – but no one else would come”

And on every date
I must pay for her drinks and food
and must take her home in a taxi;
and so *******, I said yesterday:
“You must think me the perfect fool!”
And the *******, she says:
*“I keep telling you -
you are not perfect…”

now, I was just minding
my own business
brought up by very virtuous parents
steeped in a culture ancient and proper
and graced with divine revelations;
the lotus forever growing pure
even in muddied waters;
and so minding my own business
and vowed to matrimonial chastity in mind
never looking at another woman
and never thinking of another ever

I mean no one thought
looking at Mona Lisa
even in my younger days
was ever bad; they simply said:
Oh, Mona Lisa…what a painting!
so I went about years
chaste, pure and I think, angelic,
until these women come into art books
and now more readily in cyber-life
like Rembrandt’s Bathing Woman -
oh, how could I not look?
She, Hendrickje, more natural and
more come-here-you than
today’s airbrushed digitally enhanced beauties…
O Hendrickje, Hendrickje,
entering the water
and lifting up her dress
so it won’t get wet
but O – was that really her intention?
Or perhaps to entice Rembrandt further?
Or to look at her own reflection?
and then what about us, full-blooded men of latter-days –
O Rembrandt, what have you done?
how can I not look, and look?
and come back to look again?
and under pretence of aesthetics I trace every
limb and curve of Hendrickje, O Hendrickje –
I become a Rembrandt of sorts,
just tracing lines on her image

O these cyberspace beauties
they corrupt my high ideals
And Rembrandt says across the ages:
Remember you your traditions and virtue…
And the morally upright say:
Hey! She was Rembrandt’s woman!
And I can only quip: Yeah - she was!

and leaving it at that
with O Hendrickje, Hendrickje,
gazing at her own reflection
and I wondering what she sees –
well, after Hendrickje, O Hendrickje
am I safe? you think?
Then come the women of Japan –
for instance
A woman Applying Powder
while Hashiguchi Goyō sketched and mixed his paints -
and why? Oh why, Hashiguchi Goyō?
why do you release these sirens, these women
this Woman after her Bath
this Woman combing her hair -
O these mistresses of the arts
O why release them
on my sensitive and pure
and morally upright mind?
O why you do corrupt
such a one
such a noble mind
that centuries of spiritual values jousted one another
to produce? Such a delicate specimen as I am.
Or may be
all these women should be deleted from cyberspace
and only decent women with quizzical smiles like
Mona Lisa should prevail…
Sure, we don’t know what she’s smiling about
but at least Old Lisa’s not as dangerous
as youthful Hendrickje, O Hendrickje -
or
as the Woman Applying Powder
baring her shoulders and her Japanese *****…
I mean, how can I not look?
and come back again to look?
O my adulterous heart!
but delete them all
or black them out
or cover them all up from head to foot
(technology can do wonders nowadays)
so
I can just be minding
my own business
brought to you by very virtuous parents
steeped in a culture ancient and proper
and divine revelations
the lotus forever growing pure
even in muddied waters;
and I’ll end up in Heaven after all my Holy Days
and for my Eternal Holidays there
I’ll be given all the virgins I’ll ever want

that hat seller
he’s a Maverick
itinerant, wanderer
no monkey business
no dependence, his own man
busy, he has one thing to do:  
to sell his hats

Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads

they’d not want to help him
they liked to brand him
so he said: **** you,
I’d rather go on my own

moving from one place
to another
like a masterless samurai, a ronin
no monkey business for him
but the monkeys do come to him

he knows the monkeys
they’re everywhere the same -
pinching, covetous, not giving
but eager hands for taking;
and he throws his own hat down
and the monkeys imitate;
and he collects what is his
and he moves on, as he must
for his work is everywhere
busy, he has one thing to do:  
to sell his hats

*Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads

You useless man, Socrates -
I think you need a shower…
I don’t know what the Athenians
find in you but as far as I can see you’re just wasting time
hanging out in the market places
and at dinners and symposiums
where all you do is stay late drinking nights
and talk about philosophy, and ideas
and of origin of things and justice
and nature of human beings
and such useless, impractical things;
and you bring not a cent home
and I can’t count on you for regular support
as all women and good wives might expect of a husband;
and you can’t even hold a good argument with me
for all you do when I use my Xanthippe’s questioning method
against your so-called Socratic method
all you do is mumble and tumble
and use words like shrew and nag
when all I’m asking of you is for you
to keep your part of the implied bargain in marriage
to put some food on the table
and bring some silver coins for the future of our three children:
Lamprocles, Sophroniscus and Menexenus -
have you forgotten them? Do you even remember their names?
And so you bring no money
but instead all you give me are empty words
and lofty words and airy words
and words coined in your head
and you put silly ideas that’s just confusing our children
and if not for me taking the children under my wings
they’ll just turn out to be mere
talkers and market-place prattlers
and hangers-on and leeches at other men’s feasts.
They may have a place in misguided history
if they follow your way
but they will bring weak bodies to their wives
when it is their time.
I don’t want them to be talkers,
and idealists and philosophers, Socrates –
I want them to be responsible
and I want them to bring meat and coins home
regularly and steadily, Socrates.
Socrates, you old man, I don’t care what they say of you
in the Greek world –
I haven’t had proof of your worth and value
here at home, especially in the kitchen.
You useless man, I think you need a shower;
maybe this water from the chamber-*** will wake you up.

U no, eat sins two mee,
u guise knead
two loose wait
sew hear, aye woosh
two
offal ewe sum add vice

Ewe can star art
**** ditto menation
aunt u knead too exorcise
Moove eat, keep mooving
moove mulch;  doe nut ****
down two mulch, move you’re *****
inn smell poorshuns
Ant walk two da shups
in stayed off you sing da carr

Dee impotent ding
hiss da wheel
four wear they’re’s
a wheel, they’re’s all weighs
a weigh
goad lick
loose wait
anne stain hell tea

grotesque old Tomon-go
in that corner he holds in the market
he looks angry, fierce and his open mouth
inside as red as the feet of a fighting ****
Ah, his words fly like arrows helter-skelter
some miss, some strike – he does not know
what missiles he sends, what he throws
and in turn anything he receives he throws back
with quadrupled energy

He looks fierce, he looks mean
all relatives say in hushed tones -
but he’s really nice, a softie with a hard exterior

at the market his face is convoluted
there are a hundred writhing beings that make
up his countenance
(each a contortionist)
the energy of the practised old grumpy men
live in his hands
and he unleashes words that make everyone recall
the last tsunami

He looks fierce, he looks mean
all the women and men in the market say
in whispers -
but he’s really nice, a softie with a hard exterior

Ah, poor Tomon-go, his words and manner isolate him
he hurts others and is hurt in turn
Poor Tomon-go, poor all who come in contact with him
though they might whisper to one another:
*He looks fierce, he looks mean
but he’s really nice, a softie
with a sharp tongue and grotesque exterior

so I got the job anyway
and came in to work
I think it was at 9.30 am
and the Manager called me
into his office
(what a nice guy, I thought,
giving me all the attention)

and he said: "You should have come in
to work at 8.30 am, mister"

"8.30am?"I asked...*"Why, what happened?"

Mum, says little Sara

Yes, darling, says Mum

Let's not sleep tonight.

Why, sweetheart?

Cos, mom, have you never thought about it?
the world might disappear when we sleep
and when we wake
it may never come back;
so let's watch over the world tonight
as everybody else sleeps

O no, Sara, it won't;
the world will still be there

No, mom, have you never thought about it?
Like a cloud, mom,
if you don't watch it
it will move
and sometimes change and disappear...
and so let's not sleep, for the world may
be different when we wake...

OK, sweetheart, sleep...
Mom will watch over for you.

But you must sleep...
cos if you don't sleep tonight
and I sleep
I might wake up in a different world,
so please, you must sleep when I sleep

OK, sweetheart, Mom will sleep...

But mum, we should not sleep...
have you not thought about it?
OK, while we sleep
the world might move around
and re-arrange itself
so people in China might wake up in America
and India will wake up in Iceland
and Mexico might be a city in France
and so mum, let's not sleep tonight
or everything might move round
and you and I might wake up on the moon

No, darling I'll tell the stars and the sun
and the moon and the land and the oceans
to stay still while we sleep
while darling Sara sleeps
Sara?
Sara?
Oh, you're already asleep..
Good night, darling...

Is this true
darling
what I hear
that the cult you submitted o
won’t let you see mum and dad?
And little Tom you left behind?
That the leader takes you nights
to tell you
God wants him to
explore your body and give Him an account?


Is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the cult you submitted to
has convinced you
Last Days are here
and in the fear of it all
you **** in your pants?
O lucky you
you’re the chosen one
you make holy water
so call in your cult
and let them drink it
or let them all lick it off your legs
tell them
darling
‘Here drink of this
the holy water
or lick it off
salt and urea
produced with faith and fear’
Give it back to the cult
tell them it is benediction
of Last Days
and they who drink it
will be amongst the elect
and those who lick it off
will sit on the right hand side of God;
and darling
produce prodigious amounts
as in the time of the Great Flood
tell them to queue and not squabble
there’s plenty for everyone of you
and if they say
they’re hungry
if you could
bring in holy food
tell them
a visit to the Scurvy Dogs Pound
can easily be arranged


O is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the intelligence
and mind
nature took so long to make in you
you blew it
on charlatans and nincompoops
and yourself became one?

I'm going home
to my lair,*
says the lion
with a sly smile
*Would you,
dear gazelle,
care to
come home with me
for a bite?

I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp
a postage stamp, that is;
unique and proud, in my own class,
for I’ve carried queens and kings and emperors
(I still do)
and I carry Presidents and Poets and Rock Kings
and Pop Kings
and Musicians and Legends and Heroes
and Gods and Nations;
and I carry **** blondes
and old dames who’ve dedicated their lives to others

I’ve borne with no complaints
the weight of genius
and soldiers and founders of nations
and martyrs; and I do not discriminate
and with like gusto and color
I’ve carried tyrants and murderers and charlatans
and once-were-legends now the shamed;
and look, I can encompass the universe
and within the shapes formed by my perforations
I’ve held together flowers and birds
and all wonders of nature
I am each a poem, a work of art
I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(What? You heard me the first time, did you?
Well, I’ll say it again for emphasis!) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud -
though, I acknowledge,
the image of Royalty or Heroism or Greatness has
not saved me from various knocks and hard presses
and the ******* bin!
But then, so have mighty royal heads rolled!
but look, hee…heee….heee…
I can be absolutely adorable,
and I just love, love it when you lick me;
and often too
I’m a collector’s item
increasing in value, and even with artistic merit -
though no doubt, there are countless with no idea
of how so darling precious I am
which is I why
I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(And what? Why do I repeat myself?
Well, there are thousands of copies
of one issue, aren’t there?) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud
and I’ve created worlds all of my own
with pen pals and commerce
and industries and clubs round me;
and I’m not alone, you know,
well-supported by relatives
like prepaid postal envelopes, post cards,
letter cards, aerogrammes
all of us served loyally
by unquestioning Gurkha-style postmen and women;
and I’ve brought hearts and minds together
and I do it in a day or days and or weeks
and if I feel like it, I even arrive decades later! –
and there’s nothing you can do about it!
And oh yes, I can see, you’re prone to neglecting me -
you ungrateful scoundrels! -
first replacing me with cold
Franking Machines,
and cheap, unimpressive, unimaginative franking marks
and with postage meters
imprinting an indicia;
and all of you now
deriding my world as snail pace
in your world of instant e-mails -
but I persist, and I still am of much use
for - listen carefully -
and I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud;
and if you, once in a while,
want to show me your loyalty –
come to a local post office and lick my royal ****!

Session 1
Greet people you meet;
smile and give 'em a Presidential wave



Session 2
Facilitator:
What  happened to you
Participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?

Participant Jones:
This man at the mall
stepped up to me and punched me
Cause, he said, I was smiling at his woman

Facilitator:
Be undeterred, O participant Jones
Be persistent - practise positive behaviour

Session 3
Facilitator:
What's with that bandage on your head
O participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?

Participant Jones:
That's where my wife's ladle landed
O positive Facilitator -
for my wife thinks I'm trying to get fresh
with the women in the neighbourhood
with my exuberant smiles and hand waves

Facilitator:
Have no regrets, practise in earnest;
the broad smile wins all hearts


Session  4**
Participant Jones did not attend;
has not been heard from since Session 3

I cannot understand
for the life of me
why the wife
(yes, mine own good wife)
cannot attend to my every need
just like the faithful wives
of yore - such paragons of virtue
and forerunners of service departments

Why can’t she
when I cough or ahem
drop everything she’s doing
(including even if she be
attending to her toilet duties)
and do a somersault to the first aid kit
and present me
in nanosecond
a lozenge that might soothe my throat?

At the slightest rumble
of my stomach
why can’t my wife
into the kitchen dive
and before the rumble
turns into a mumble
why can’t she present on the table
a fine set of fare fit for an Emperor…
a wide range of food – I am reasonable –
the best from Saskatchewan and so on
a dish of the the best from every
nation and continent and clime
Now, is that really too much to ask
of a wife for life?


And what about my other needs
and my other multifarious, multitudinous
innumerable
variety of desires and wants and appetites
that from time to time burst like fireworks
that usher in the New Year?
After all I’m human
and have all these desires and wants
through start of day to the moment
I recline in bed
at decline of day…
So why can’t she
ensure the toothpaste is on the toothbrush
at start of my day
and use a fresh towel end
to coax to prominence the shine on my teeth?
And why can’t she have my
clothes neatly pressed and ready on bed
and presto! – when I emerge into the dining hall
should not breakfast be ready on the table
as Ariel would have done for Prospero in “The Tempest”?
Look, as you can see, I am not far
from being reasonable…
And then certainly the shoes should be ready
with a new shine nurtured with cat’s **** or dog’s pooh –
whatever the concoction that may take
to bring out the luster in my shoes
And she can open the door and shut it gently
(that’s the house door)
and she could open the door and shut it gently
(that’s the car door)
as I drive off elegantly
and surely should return
to smiles and glee
and a repeat performance
but varied now to evening needs
and let us not forget me and the wife in bed

And so on, I think you get the drift;
intelligent reader as you are,
I believe you understand
the daily program
the moral imperative
in a wife that’s for life


and you can see
plain and clear as the still sea
how reasonable and natural
and unpretentious, easy, manageable
professional and well-planned and spaced
my demands and needs are and be:
after all
it is my wife
I claim for these services
and Not the President’s or Vladimir Putin’s



And now I’ll throw at you
Sirs and Ladies
the most dramatic question
the parting shot
O the noble Parthian shot -
irrefutable, irreparable, indisputable
absolutely undeniable
and that will make you see the light:
*A wife’s for life, is she not -
and aren’t both made for my convenience?

all secrets
are open
and there are
no longer secrets in our
world;
and that’s not because
of Russian sirens
or American bombshell blondes
or Chinese academics
or Japanese robots
or smug British 007s -
but because, plainly,
secrets are no longer secrets
See, I’ll show you;
easy and logical
Everybody knows secret, right?
whoever kept it secret
since the word first appeared?
every teacher
goes head over heels
to put it on the vocabulary list
so the word is no longer secret;
also ‘secrets’ and ‘secret’
appear in every dictionary
and they appear everywhere
and everybody has them;
and even a child knows secrets
thanks to those
eager teachers
and the do-good moms and dad -
so what’s so secret about secret anymore?
Yes?
Logical?
I told you I’ll show you.
But not to worry;
we’ll bring back secrets
Ssssshhhhh!
not so loud….
we’ll bring back secrets –
it must be something nobody knows
not in any dictionary
not something public
not something you can google
and make it so easy
so it’s: secuzinis
Ssssshhhhh!
Not so loud….
What’s wrong with you?
See, nobody knows the word
and so secrets are safe and back again…
Yes?
Logical?
So secuzinis
Ssssshhhhh!
Not so loud….
Oh God! – there’s
something seriously wrong with you!
Well, be quiet
and all our secuzinis are safe
and unknown as secrets before
as only you know this
and I know this
that is, if I can trust you
and you can trust me
with secuzinis….
Ssssshhhhh!
Not so loud….
you see, it’s not even in the dictionary
and Google hasn’t even got a clue!

I was at the street shops, seated below the canvas
and drinking my sake
innocent to the world
and lost to my cup
when she walked past
smooth, elegant, slow-time
her eyes straight and her manner modest
O I only had eyes for her
that was all there was, that desire
as she glided through the street
her kimono red and strewn with flowers in bloom
her scent lingering in the air
the gold clips gleaming in her black hair
O the kimono was like a cloud ablaze
that wrapped a Being from the Realm of Desires
and my own being was in chaos and stirring
and then just at the other end
just at the bend
the beauty turned her head
and she cast her eyes on me,
just a flitting look
O the beauty looked back
and it is on me she cast her binding gaze

And now, for me,
as for a madman
there is no looking back
I must go where she beckons

trees, trees and plants
we see them with trunks round
Love them, laugh with them
cos you may not see them
all years, always  a -round

Trees, trees
they have no fingers
Oh, but they’ve got many rings;
and they still get on the internet
by logging in

Tulips grow on your face
and if you plant kisses
you get another two lips;
the cucumber goes mad
cos it’s in a pickle;
the mushroom is always invited to parties
cos he’s a fungi

and the dog loves the tree
cos they both have bark;
while the frog’s favorite flower
is the croak-us;
the elephant, on the other hand,
I mean on the other trunk,
loves squash;
and while the fruit
comes from a fruit tree
the chicken comes
from a poul-tree

trees, trees and plants
we see them with trunks round
Love them, laugh with them
cos you may not see them
all years, always  a-round

the nut sneezes: *"Cashew!"
And the lemon is sick
and the kind neighbors
give it lemon-aid;
the tomato turns red
cos it sees the salad dressing;
and baby corn says to mama corn:
"Where’s pop?"

and you humans
if you reach out with your hands
you can fit a palm tree in;
and knock! knock!
who’s there?
"Leaf – yeah, just leaf me alone;
enough of your silly jokes"

Trees, trees and plants
we see them with trunks round
Love them, laugh with them
Cos you may not see them
All years, always  a -round

hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


times are tough
more than ever;
bills come at the speed of bullets
taxes gather like summer flies
and debts ricochet against our walls;
the banks want more and more
but there's just air in our pockets


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


the jobs dry up and
the dollars dwindle into cents;
permanent becomes temp
and temp becomes non-existent;
full-time goes into part-time
and part-time into casual
and casual into zilch


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


nature conspires with the economy,
sweetheart:
she sends rains and fire and landslides;
she claws sands off the beaches and
all we have left are
government ******* and *******
who care a hoot about our fish and chips


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


time's not on our side either, sweetheart;
mind you, with mighty puffed cheeks
he blows H1N1 flu round the globe
and so sends people and customers away
and those who remain turn cheap and nasty
and all these pigs want are discounts and freebies


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


the collection agencies are knocking, dear -
it sounds much like the knock of death
in Beethoven's ninth;
the mortgage barbarians are on their horses
and they send writs and auction threats
and re-possessions


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


O hang on, sweetheart,
hang on tight:
many will fall, many will bleed
but those who hang on tight
and those who can love
those who can dream together
they will ride the nights out into clear day


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life

The other day
my colleague came up to me
with his iPad
and he said, “You love Rembrandt?”
“Uh ha,” I said
“Well, look at this google image.
This is Rembrandt’s Parents Making Love”
And I looked at the image he had conjured
and sure enough there was a portrait of
Rembrandt’s parents in bed, you know,
doing that, doing it…
Rembrandt’s Parents Making Love

And I protested: “How can that be?
That’s not a Rembrandt, no!”
“Sure it is,” said my colleague.
*“That’s what they are making.
It's definitely an artist’s conception.”

Old Teacher
Lao Tzu wants to go;
he has had enough and he wants to go
to the mountains and to solitude
but they will not let him go

he arrives at the gates
and the gatekeeper says:
“Old Teacher,
you cannot go;
write all you know
then you can go”

“If I write,”
says Lao Tzu,
“you will make a text of it
though the description is never the thing”

and the gatekeeper says again :
“Old Teacher,
you cannot go;
write all you know
then you can go”


and Lao Tzu writes
so he can go;
and we have all these texts in the world
and cling on to words, words, words
thinking the description is the thing

Little Tony came running
to his Grandpa Billy:
"Grandpa, Grandpa
can you make sounds like a frog?"

And Grandpa Billy said:
"Well, Tony...I reckon I could make
frog sounds if I tried"

"Yes!" shouted Tony, radiating all eagerness
*"That's good. Now we can all
go to Disneyland, just as grandma said,
when you croak."