Offer your children a diet of pumpkin soup for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In the absence of children , offer it to your spouse. Or offer it to yourself.

2.
Color your face and hands Green.
And hold a placard with the words: MOTHER NATURE .
Then stand outside on the highway at peak hour traffic.
Just watch what they do to you.

3.
When the children come knocking tonight and they shout: Trick or Treat? tell them:
I’m doing the Trick and Treat, little darlings - and say:
The Trick is, I’m going to recite one of my poems, and the Treat is that too!
And just watch them run!

4.
Your son’s room is ***** and untidy? He never tidies his room?
Well, today you can reverse it all: throw frogs and toads and feathers
and chicken curry and rotting pumpkins about in his room and listen to him complain in reverse, when he comes back from school:
Mum! My room is so untidy!

(Trouble is, you may still have to clean up.)

5.
Call your mum and tell her you are pregnant. (Of course your mum might have read this and she might be calling you to scare you with the same Trick.)




6.
Walk over to your neighbour’s drive-way with a new $100 broom and offer to sweep their driveway.

7.
Put up a sign outside your house just for tonight:
Give this Old House the miss.
Old Witch is back.
Old Wizard is brewing Old Lizard Potion to celebrate.

8.
Or try this sign outside your house:
No Halloween here.
Just Bold Miss-fit Blunderteen (blackbelt, TKD) lives here.

9.
Trust me, witches flying on a broomstick over trees and the moon is not a myth.
Gather all your folks and neighbours on One Tall Tree Hill, climb that tree, sit on a broom, shout: I believe! - and jump off the tree. You must also have a crowd of at least 20 for this to work.

10.
For goodness sake, just this once, try being human. Just for today. We've had enough zombie days.

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 ****

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...

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

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

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

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

1
Why is 6 wary of 7?
Because 7 is a 6 offender



2
How do you keep
an idiot in suspense?

1
you come home
and there's bill
(not your friend
but the bill from
your internet provider)
for your cellphone and such

you read your bill
and your son
has to call up the ambulance,
further increasing your bill

2
your 16-year-old daughter
tells you:
"I've got news;
good or bad
depends on how you look
at it: I'm 4-months pregnant -
and before you ask me -
I ******* don't know who"

3
Your grandpa comes back
with his I-just-met-her girlfriend
and she tells you
to move out
and stop sponging on an old man
Your grandpa nods in admiration
and says: "Good on you, girl
I never had the heart to tell him that"

4
The chicken you had for dinner
at the restaurant
(and enjoying which
you went "ooh-wow")
was actually snake meat
topped with dog paws and ears

5
The kid you turned away
in your Scrooge mood
with no treat at the door
stands now at 2 am
beside your bed
with his head in his hands

1
Ginhoko is a slob
he ***** up to the boss
and he squeals on his mates
May his family starve and
may his wife find him always flaccid

2
You loser! You loser! You loser!

3
the woman who walks past our store
everyday when I have my tea
she is lovely and a fairy -
O will she not look at me?

4
The boss is a donkey
He eats pig ****
and his wife drugs his food
and his wife fornicates with the servant
while her husband lies drugged,
and everyday she winks at me

5
May the world go jump
in the ditch!
May I alone survive and enjoy the earth!

6
What do you eat? You smell of the backstreets
of the red light district
where the men go to ease themselves

7
who scribble here
is nincompoop

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

you know you take
words and some cement and glue
and you make them all stick together
into verse and poetry;
and you gather love like a rolling stone
and you blow wild seeds in the air
and you’ve got fine diction
and refined sentiments
and it’s made into a poem
and it all makes sense
oh baby,
it all makes too much sense

you work like Vivaldi
and make poems about seasons
or you work like Goethe
and pour roaring poetry
to outdo Shakespeare
and you frighten Edgar Allan Poe;
and you have great insight
like the Buddha or some Great Prophet
or Only One Savior
and you give us mighty fine inspired poetry
pure, pure spirituality;
or you just take Revelation
like the countless mindless followers
the Great Being has been plagued with since Inception
and you make verse
and oh, it all makes sense
it all makes too much sense
and you take my foibles, our foibles
and your poems
laugh at them
or you put fine words together and string beads of harmony
like a millions-dollar necklace
Richard Burton might have offered Liz Taylor
oh you know you make poems
that come across time and cyberspace
and they all maketh perfect sense
but
how about
baby
you and me make verse
that knocks out sense and makes no sense?
poetry that takes the mickey out of meaning?
no, not for a change -
but forever?
no, not for entertainment
but for nonsense?
so that senses is knocked senseless
and we escape you and me
to North Caledonia
to Paradise of rhythm and senseless-beauty
and we have a beat
and we have a pulse
and the street gang says in awe:
Oh, hey
see these two babies move
they’ve got the style
they’ve got the swing
Yeah, they’re a fine couple of babies!
so we got no sense
and sense-less is meaningless
so we got no sense in nonsense either
or senselessness for that matter
we got nothing baby
(well, nothing on as well)
but plenty of rhythm and sway
we drop all fine subjects
that determine our lives
so we are all freed of lies maybe
(we don’t know what will happen)
and we got the spirit of poetry
beyond sense and line and word and form and intent and purpose
and that gets all the universe rocking
(no doubt, there’s enough rock already)
baby
in one baby-making sway
how about that, baby?
you and me
abandon sense
and dance naked between planets and stars?

the barber and the bald man
and the ubiquitous philosopher
are travelling in ancient Rome
Here below the tree at night
they rest and take turns to keep an eye
on their luggage
Now it is the turn of the barber to keep watch
and he gets bored
and he takes out his shaving kit
and he gives the sleeping philosopher
a free shave, so now you have two bald men

And now it’s the philosopher’s watch
and he wakes up
and he feels his smooth head
and he muses to himself:
*“That stupid barber!
He has woken up the bald man
instead of waking up the philosopher!”

I ask you
Most Intelligent Reader,
expecting an answer:
What do a rabbit
and a hawk
have in common?

I expect an answer
from you
Most Intelligent Reader
But I expect it to be wrong
so I shall tell you the answer
to the question:
What do a rabbit
and a hawk
have in common?
The answer:
They both live underground,
except for the hawk

I bet you didn't know the answer,
dear intelligent reader

1
My mother would say:
“Little boy Raj…
Go to Muthu’s
and get some
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic”

And so I go to the shops
singing all the way
and when Muthu asks me
what I’d want
I rattle off a list:
“Sesame seeds, onions
tomatoes and pickles”

And back home,
Mother twists my ears

Ouch!


2
And inevitably I grew up
and inevitably I got married
and inevitably my wife says to me:
“Dear husband whom
I married in a fire-ceremony;
could you kindly go to Woolies
and get me some
flour, castor sugar,
pepper, pasta sauce and pancakes…”


And so I drive to Woolies
singing all the way;
and walking down the aisles
I throw the following
into the trolley:
cinnamon, betel leaves
and ginger and garlic…

And back home
though my wife does not twist my ears
I feel Mother reach forward
from the other world
and she twists my ears

Ouch!

sing a song of nonsense
of absolute lack of sense
for people who are
so, so important and busy
they have no time to waste



he he ha ha
moo moo
moo moo
ma ma
ma ma
da di dum dum


the tree spreads out its arms
and birds come to rest
on the ground;
‘what do you think I am?’
sneers the tree
‘your daddy or mummy
to give you shelter
on hot days?’
and flicks the birds off
with its roots and branches


he he ha ha
moo moo
moo moo
ma ma
ma ma
da di dum dum



the fish come to the hooks
under water
and they flick it up over
with their immense tails;
and the hooks land on the fishermen’s
smooth bald heads
and the fish sing together:
‘Put those hooks up in your noses
and go home to your wives
and tell them
the fish gave you nose-rings
to celebrate this Glorious Day of Hooks’



he he ha ha
moo moo
moo moo
ma ma
ma ma
da di dum dum



under the oceans
Shark got married to Giant Octopus
and on their wedding night
Giant Octopus said:
‘Come baby,
come on in to my embrace’



he he ha ha
moo moo
moo moo
ma ma
ma ma
da di dum dum




and the earthworms
peeped out of the earth
and said:
‘My, how boring the world is up here…’
and the ostrich buried its head under ground
and said: ‘The darkness is vast;
It is infinite…’



he he ha ha
moo moo
moo moo
ma ma
ma ma
da di dum dum





sing a song of nonsense
of absolute lack of sense
for people who are
so, so important and busy
they have no time to waste

the would-be monk
(fervent, eager, so into-it)
came knocking at the
Buddhist monastery
but no one answered

the would-be monk
saw a sign
there in the shadows
that read:
“inquire within”

so
the would-be monk
went away immediately

I think, Sirs, and most inimitable Ladies
I think I prefer to look at a bull
The sketch of a bull, the head of a bull perhaps
even if but a study by an artist
rather than some fancy prophet in glorious paint
or in grand chapel or some miracle recounted
in paint and colors and with consummate skill
or even God descending – ah, all these do not take my fancy
they smack too much of the Elevated;
there’s too much
of the grandstanding in these
Grand Divine Themes -
but the face of a bull, ah give me a sketch
of the face of a bull
just the bull, all marks of nature in it
and just itself
no symbolism, no conceit, no artifice
no High sounding theology, no revelation
but just animal nature in its ******
being a bull
just animal, its eyes and mouth and horns
just all coming together to form one creature…
a portrait of a bull anytime for me -
Sirs and most inimitable Ladies -
none of the holy ones and the great prophets
and the Mighty and the Divine
and the Grand-Looking:
no bull for me, please;
just the plain head of a bull, as it is…

1
in January
I met Jane
in February
it was all love
flying Cupids
and St Valentine’s

in March
we marched down the aisle
I slipped the ring in her finger
and she let me slip into her that night
in April
I came home early and saw her kissing some guy
and when I coughed
they both laughed at me and said:
Happy April Fool’s Day!
A belated one, though;
still - I just laughed,
always love surprises
and a good sport I’d always been

I don’t remember what we did
In May -
but the predominant emotion is one of dismay
June saw us
make love
under the moon
and at noon
in July
she made full use of her vocal cords
and reached her peak of pitch:
Oh God! - you’re just like any guy!
You’ve turned the house into a sty!
August I decided to be a little dignified;
and in September we were like King and Queen
with diamond crown and scented scepter each


2
in October she crashed our new
shiny, costly SUV Rover
and I just found it difficult to stay sober
November
is a month to remember, to remember
well it’s something private between me and Jane
it’s something to do with a member, a member
November - Oh baby,
it’s something to remember, remember...
December came and - was it the heat
or the cold? -
by the end we were dismembered, dismembered:
I’m alone again
and this time maybe
in scented January
in fresh January I’ll find May

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

there’s a rat and there’s a cat
both sitting on the fence
(literally on the fence -
cats and rats don't take up positions on issues)

and a boy happens to pass by;
the rat turns to the cat
but says nothing cause rats don’t talk;
the cat turns to the rat
and eats the rat
cause it’s in its nature to do so

the boy walks past
with no idea what’s happening
cause he’s human
(though they talk and eat a lot,
humans have no idea what’s happening)

Grandad Cat
curls his tail
and wants to tell a tale
to his GrandKits Cats
He claws them before him
and he meows a catchy tune
that he shall
tell them a tale

But little Toby
he purrs:
*No, Grand – you're such a bad story-teller
cos you only have
one tale

a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies*

so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese
or an American or British or Swedish
or French or Russian or German;
or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim
or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic
or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist
or even for that matter, an atheist
- or whatever you will...
one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest
and each identity becomes so strong
it becomes so real
it all comes into the question of right and wrong
of evil and good
and it falls into loud declamations
and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil
my brand is holy, your brand unholy...
and so it goes,
with all sorts of justifications
that beat sense out of all loyal adherents
and it squeezes humanity out of the human
as paste out of a tube...
ah, and yes,
the energy goes on into the afterlife
as Christians go into a Christian Heaven
and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas
and Muslims in their own Paradise
and so it goes on,
this Human Tragi-Comedy,
yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty
who was created by your mind's poverty
so that
a child is born free of mind
but is hardened into thought
and by the time one dies
most are fixed and ******* into
worlds of their making,
heavens of their fantasies

these lines
acting as a poem

somewhat of a method actor
born of parents in the theater
thrown out into the gutter

maybe will grow up
and crawl back into the theater
to specialise in Shakespearean roles
a little of Chekov, some of Eugene O'Neill

And Adam
said to God:
Daddy! Daddy!

What now?
sighed God,
quite irritated.

Daddy, daddy -
where's mummy?
asked Adam.

God thought
for a while
and He said:
O, I got rid of her.


But why, Daddy?
asked Adam

Oh, she was
too much of an inconvenience,
came the quick reply.

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

the last time
my long-suffering
paranoid wife
went to the dentist
she sat obediently
and when she could,
she grabbed what she could

and the dentist, always used to a
position of power, said with calm and dignity:
"Excuse me lady, you got me by my *****;
perhaps you want to take your hands off?"

"Well," said my fearful wife,
the timid victim
*"If  we all handle things easy
ain't nobody gonna hurt, okay"

the sky hangs over her
and the waves come near;
and the delicate beauty walks alone
pensive, self-absorbed
and distant by the shore


what is in your mind
pale beauty?
do you sigh over wasted time
and the pain of distance shores?

what is in your heart
fragile beauty?
has your wandering love
not returned and the days are past
and have rolled into months
and yet no news has come?

you walk like a child
and leave footsteps on the soft sands
and the waves eat every trace;
and you disappear
and we cannot find you again;
but we know
just as waves return
you’ll come back the next morning
to walk silently and alone
along the shore
of your quiet pains

easy and smooth the day
comes and goes
like a falling leaf
or a graceful cat on the roof;
perhaps like drops of dew
drip
drip
drip
gently into the lake of time below;
dawn
morning
midday
afternoon
evening
sunset
dusk
twiligh­t
night
and I'm left in quiet
and the cat-day lies curled in my lounge

ah, happy crow
(uncaring that humans may
not find you very pleasant)
you sit on the branch of that shady tree
and you peck at a bone you've brought yourself
and you are busy, busy, busy eating;
and I, happy too, sit here
at a table, eating my sandwich
and sipping a little water

ah, happy crow busy, busy eating
(uncaring that many humans may
not find you very pleasant)
I know your happiness
and you know mine;
and thus we sit at our spots
eating the bits we find

ah poor moon
you're just hanging around
and through no fault of your own
you attract all these weirdos
these lunatics
and the vampires and the blood-******* bats
and the sleep-walkers and murderers
and the flesh-eaters
(the moon made me do it!)
and the lunatics
and the werewolves
and even stock-pickers
and wild women who want to **** Orpheus

O poor moon
you're just about your own radiant business
and all these freaks put it at your doorstep

laugh a day
laugh it now
laugh as loud
as you want;
it shakes up your body
lets good things flow
through your veins;
don’t think about it
just laugh a minute
or laugh a day
laugh long as laugh-time



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



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


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



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



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



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

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

It’s the same
here as always;
centuries on
since my last report
these earthlings are
still killing themselves


It’s the same
here as always;
they’re still telling lies
to one another;
and as before
they’re good at disguising
their intentions
so good they cheat themselves



It’s the same
here as always;
they’re eating so
much of their earth
and rubbishing
the space round their planet;
they learn but they’re too slow
and when they’re smart
they’re too smart for their own good



It’s the same
here as always;
they’re imagining
things and the things they imagine
are always more real
to them
than the reality:
please refer to my earlier reports
on their religions
and their ideas of good and evil


It’s the same
here as always;
they’re still messing up
things and they think their messiahs
will come and fix things up for them;
they never think for themselves
but must always rely
on revelation and authority


It’s the same
here as always;
they still think I’m a lobster
hanging over them
in their polluted sky.
Can I come home, please? –
it’s really boring watching these dumb guys!



It’s the same
here as always;
centuries on
since my last report
these earthlings are
still killing themselves.
I wish they’d do it a little quicker
so I get to go home!

abcd
efg
hi jk
lmnop
qrs tuv
w x y
zzzzzzz zzzz zzzzz

sleep gentle love
mum will watch over you;
a few drops of water
will slake your throat
and fill your little tummy
and get you used to hunger


milk for our sweetheart
and some rice and bread
perhaps a ripe banana
and some meat for our darling
dad may bring soon


warm clothes for our sweetheart
and a little rattle
and a colorful doll
perhaps with these
older brother may come soon

sleep gentle love
mum will watch over you;
a few drops of water
will slake your throat
and fill your little tummy
and get you used to hunger

a maiden’s heart broken
we bury here in the grave;
we bless her
and wish her god speed
and that she leaves all pain here on earth
and we pray that all blessings be hers
as she goes forth
to meet her one true Lord in Heaven
a maiden betrayed by her espoused true love
here on earth;
and we
the nuns who attend to this burial
we in each heart
we too bury
a maiden’s broken heart
betrayed by one’s true love
by the world’s harshness
but meet our Maker even now
even now in confined spaces on earth itself
to transcend the pain of betrayed trust,
of betrayed love, of life taken beyond flesh

How are writers born? What do they suffer? Do writers have to be famous? Are writers so used by readers and the characters and the stories? Does every writer end up all right?


1
"Sammy baby
You’ve got all these voices
in your head, baby"

"Is that a bad thing, mom?
Is that gonna hurt me, mom?"

2
"No, Sammy baby, cause
You’re a writer baby
You’ve got all these voices in your head
You’re a star baby
and all these people want your hands
They’re screaming to come out
They’re saying:
'Let us out'
cause you’re a writer baby"


2
"They talk to me, mom
They say: 'Please, Sammy –
give us a name;
tell our story'"

“Cause you’re a writer, baby Sammy
and  it doesn’t matter
if you live unknown
and be famous after you die
But you’re a writer
and you do what you must do
Give voice to these people
and all their lives
You may become awkward socially
and grow old to be a recluse
but with ‘em people in your head
and as a writer, you’ll be perfect
My Sammy, baby
cause you’re a writer, baby
I carried you to be a writer
You’re born to be a writer
Sammy baby, Sammy baby"


But sometimes it gets so lonely, mom…they only want to talk when they want; then they leave me alone, unwanted…used…and you’ve left me too, mom…you’re nowhere in the rooms or anywhere…

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

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

“A mouse was my teacher,” says Diogenes.

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

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

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

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

the holy home (and possibly strict)
has its dining adorned with a sign:
Pray before you eat
The sign may be literal, or invisible

at the grocer's today I saw
this sign pasted on to a big box
of loose sumptuous dates:
*"Pay before you eat"

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

Prediction 1X^VVVKOOiii8889

In year 2012,
Honorable Sage of Peach Land says,
Man will prosper till end
but in last day 2012
Man will become Donkey
and Donkey will transform into Man
as happened in Ancient Hoary Past Year 201222334

And
before I forget
there's one more thing
Last night And dropped in
like out of the blue
Maybe from the night sky
or just like an unannounced visitor
And walked in, let itself in
And jumped onto my lap
And it said,
though first it looked at my face like some lover,
And said:
And?
And, I said, there are things to be done…
And? said And…
And I'll have to make a list first;
And then prioritise…
And?
And then start…
And?
And then finish…
And was quiet a while
And then And said: And?
And then there'll always be
more things to be done, I said
Always an And…
And?
And, I said, then I'll have make a list again
And prioritise
And then start And then finish…
And it never ends…And it continues…
And And gave me a smile, smug and so satisfied…

And so it goes…this And…though you think And is gone
And just then, when you least expect it,
And is back…And so it goes…this And…

The End…
Oh, no not really The End…it's The And…

And
before I forget
there's one more thing
Last night And dropped in
like out of the blue
Maybe from the night sky
or just like an unannounced visitor
And walked in, let itself in
And jumped onto my lap
And it said,
though first it looked at my face like some lover,
And said:
And?
And, I said, there are things to be done…
And? said And…
And I'll have to make a list first;
And then prioritise…
And?
And then start…
And?
And then finish…
And was quiet a while
And then And said: And?
And then there'll always be
more things to be done, I said
Always an And…
And?
And, I said, then I'll have make a list again
And prioritise
And then start And then finish…
And it never ends…and it continues…
And And gave me a smile, smug and so satisfied…

And so it goes…this And…though you think And is gone
And just then, when you least expect it,
And is back…And so it goes…this And…

The End…
Oh, no not really The End…it's The And…

and it all disappears, does it not?
age and the times and the memories
and the friends and the dads
and moms and siblings;
and nations and affiliations
and the lovers and the sweethearts
and the rose and the berries;
and the days and nights and the snow
on the bare branches;
and the years crawl away
and words become inaudible in space
and we wake up to the birds at the windows
and find it all disappears…slips away
as silently as falling snow…

John’s going to be
a first-time father
and he calls the hospital
late in the night
and he screams into the phone:
“My wife’s going to deliver! Help!
She’s screaming! And she says something
about contractions! Help!”

And the duty nurse at the other end
with her cool voice intones:
“Tell me - is this her first child?”

And the anxious first-time father screams:
*“No! No! This is her husband!”

come, it is a cool evening;
it is time for the body to rest
and the mind to withdraw within;
let us play then
a raga for this evening:
notes and a rhythm and a flow
that shall bring quiet, peace and calm in one’s being;
and perhaps as you play
the melody and  magic
might induce me into a state
of inspired words that might come out as song and verse
that might bring ease and stillness
to all that might hear us play and sing

when I was little
my dad and mom
they expected me
to turn out
just like them;
exactly
like dad and mom
and indeed I turned out to be
as my dad and mom

Oh when I went to school
I expected classmates
to be appropriately like me
but they turned out
unexpectedly, unreasonably
like what they’d be
Oh I was shocked
and asked my parents why
the world was so deviant
and, in their received wisdom, they said:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”

When I went to work
and met many strangers
I knew straightaway
why they were called strangers
For their ways were indeed strange
and instead of being like me
they each turned out
like they’d be…

Then I got married
and my wife
turned out like what
I’d expected her to be
exactly like me
and we brought up our children
to be like me
But when they grew up
I was shocked to find
they were like strangers
and I asked my wife
if indeed they were my children

And so I thought I’d go on a tour
and I went to England and America
and I went to Russia and China and India
and Down Under
and I crossed from East to West and North to South
and I went to Mexico and in disguise to many nations
and everywhere I was shocked to find
none were like me
And I was reminded of my dad’s words, my mom’s words:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”

And so I came home
and found my wife too had changed
and she was no longer like me
and I sat down in my lounge
older, wiser, sadder, well-traveled
and now all-knowing what I always knew :
“It’s an imperfect world
everywhere
What can you expect
from impure persons?”

Angulimala chases the monk.
Angulimala collects thumbs
one from each victim;
he will collect a 1000
and this monk’s thumb will be the last


but though he chases the monk
and the monk but walks
the monk seems to elude him;
and so Angulimala shouts:
“Stop, monk!”

and the monk walks still
but his voice comes clear:
“I have stopped.
You stop too, Angulimala.”

“You have not stopped, monk;
you continue walking.
Monks do not lie –
tell me,
how have you stopped?”


“I have stopped thought;
I have stopped all violence
and hate and harm to all creatures;
I have stopped all mental-formation –
so do you stop too,
Angulimala.”


And Angulimala stops;
and he is ordained as a monk himself
even there in the wilderness
by the Buddha

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?

now I, Anton, eldest and wisest,
I, nature-appointed leader by age and time,
I call this our first meeting to order
and each shall stand in silence as I read
out the rules and regulations
of this our BOYS ONLY order of OLD RUSSIA,
which I, as my first act as leader, shall name
the Anton Boys Only Group, the name obviously after myself…
And now, Artem stand still and stand at ease as Vladimir here is…
This pose with legs like a soldier's
and with hands at back, back in palm,
this is the way of the obedient follower
though I fear Artem may have a bit of Napoleon in him…
But Anton Boys Only Group we shall be
and in the streets we are destined to meet…
Now for the rules:
I am the leader and I’m always right;
you are the members of the group,
and you will always follow…
now, girls will not be allowed in this group
and no one is to come with any girls
here except me, with Galina once in a while
as she has recently been winking at me in class,
when I do attend class, that is,
and she has sent me notes
to meet her in the old shed past the fields
and once in a while, as I say,
she might be here on our way to said
location during which time
you will all keep guard
and remain as still as the Kremlin guards
or, as I’ve heard, the guards outside
****** England’s Buckingham palace.
Now, Viktor and Georgy, you are hereby fined five coins
for taking a casual attitude while I speak…
Artem, the tallest here after me,
you will be my bearer and cleaner
like carrying things I might have to carry
and dusting my coat before and after meetings
and for which I shall nominate you successor
should I run away with Galina to America…
We shall, however, always remain faithful to Mother Russia
and send you back information as and when necessary;
and also at each meeting, from hence,
each of you will bear gifts for the leader
(who, let me remind you, is myself)
like an apple, a tomato, eggs and sweets
and chicken pieces and such
as and when possible
but always at least one gift each
at each meeting as payment for the privilege
of my leadership;
and meetings will start promptly and be canceled as I wish;
and Vladimir and Bogdan and Andrey
you shall before each meeting, finish such field tasks
as my mother may have assigned me
and which I may then justly apportion to each one of you…
I do not anticipate any questions at this stage our first meeting
and so I announce this meeting over…
And Artem, you might want to dust the coat on my back…
but kindly do ensure your hands are clean first…

this is an unnecessary poem
and so is
any comment
or reaction in the mind
or scribble
totally unnecessary