the camellias are held out
by a branch
as if to invite any passerby
to see the delicate flowers
and the beauty of it
and the silence of it
and the moment of it;
but it is a bird that comes by
that comes to sit on the branch
to come to no purpose it seems but to sit
as if to say to the branch
to show to the camellias and the branch
to point to the beauty of it
the silence of it
and the moment of it
as the bird sits on the branch

The photojournalist came back after camping
alone out there in the woods
taking pictures with her camera;
loved the nature, the trees
the lakes, and stillness of the nights;
freezing outside
but surprisingly warm in her sleep
in her tough-zipped tent

she collected the photographs
two days after;
*and there were pictures of her
sleeping various nights in her tent
with extra limbs sprawled over her

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."

Ah, young Sir, most elegant young scion
of a noble family of our Great City -
how well you play even these games
as cards and board games
with such composure, calm and dignity
that we of the lower classes
can never muster
and with what generosity of spirit
young Sir
what dignity and skill
even as you deign to play cards with us,
such ordinary folks, such untutored people like us…
but honest we are, young Sir,
and so in your wisdom and learning you have seen
and so you have chosen to come in our midst
and to play with us…
so you no doubt wish to know the world
so that you may have such wisdom as when one day
you move even deeper in court circles
and in the halls of power
as no doubt by the signs on your face and in your manner
young Sir
you are destined to do so…
ah Sir, how well you consider your moves…
…forgive me for talking, it is my admiration for you
that makes me talk…I shall be quiet the while
as you pause to make your next move…

…ah, Sir – such gravity and poise you have...
and such deep meditation you make
before every card move…
it is a dignity and insight, most noble young Sir
you have no doubt acquired
in the great schools, and from your most learned tutors
no doubt such wisdom as you have acquired
in all your studies
as noble youth like you are privileged to…
not like us poor street urchins
and common people of the street
in our ignorance, in our pettiness…
but still, Sir – we are honest people, you will find
and perhaps one day, young Sir,
you shall speak for us in those halls of power
in which you shall shine –
perhaps then you will speak for us ordinary folks
how though common and plain, yet most honest you found us…
play on, young Sir, play on….consider your moves
and hold your cards close to your *****, indeed…
indeed…indeed…I shall be quiet…so you can
deliberate and apprehend your every move…
but honest ordinary friends of yours we are, young Sir…
always we remain your honest friends
of the taverns and streets…

I accompanied my master
to the Town market
and on the way back
we had to cross a swelling river

A young woman stood there crying
and she knelt before my master
begging him to carry her across;
and with no second thought
he carried her on his back and took her across
the rapid waters

he left her on the other side of the river
and she bowed and went on her way;
and my Master and I went on our ours

But I was not happy
and did not speak
till we stopped to rest, and I blurted out:
You carried a woman across the river
and she clung to your back -
her body close and tight to yours!

And my master said:
*It appears I left her at the river bank
while you still continue to carry the woman

See, do you see?
free cat roams
free cat lives its multiple lives
curly tail and rich fur and shiny eyes
across the Korean landscape of Jeong Seon;
and do you hear?
Free cat purrs:

*“it’s nice, dear Cat God
to be free and open
and I like it I owe you no obedience
unlike those miserable humans;
in your wisdom
you make crickets and large insects appear
and I make them disappear –
you and I are equal partners in the cycle of life,
dear Cat God;
and a rat in the wild
and some water in a secluded pool
and all these fresh air and hidden nests
I like all that, I like it this way
(And I don’t a give a meow or cat-**** for humans
and their elegant cats lying on cushions)
And of course,
when the passion seizes me
in here in the open,
there’s always a ***** cat, ready and wet
and we wail and meow all night
Hey Cat God -
I like it this way, feral in the wild”

O have you heard? -
the standards at the
Faculty of HISStory and Catssics
are slipping;
and its esteem
in the public eye declining
Have you heard?

Why?

Well,
that Faculty’s
got too many cheetahs
That’s why

said one cat to the other:
*“One of these days I’m going
to the Flea Circus
and then I’ll be real famous
cos I’ll steal the whole show!”

for centuries
black cats have been
the subject of blame

Is it bad luck
if a black cat follows you?

Here’s the answer
to settle this mystery
once and for all:
*It all depends, if you’re human or mouse

said one cat to the other
at the playground:
*“My mum always advised me
never to
climb trees
For she did say
very wisely:
‘What has bark
will bite next’”

What? What’s up with you guys?
can’t a cat have peace in one’s own home, yeah?
never seen a cat eat before?
can’t you just mind your own business
and let a cat do a cat’s business of eating, ha?
HA! - what’s that laugh for?
and for goodness sake put away that camera
You think I’m cute, ha?
wait till I get my paws on you
and a flick of my tail while I’m in mid-air
will take care of your camera
What, you some kind of paparazzi or what?
OK, let a cat eat and you mind own business, yeah?
Oh, I’m really suspicious about you guys
Maybe you’re hungry, yeah?
go get your own food guys;
stop looking at cat food
or at cat as food – I’m really not sure about you guys
You’ll eat anything!
OK, jokes aside
I’ve worked hard my day entertaining you morons
and purring so you can squirm with delight
and curling up in your laps
so you’ll be happy and live longer at my expense
No, I’ve done my work so let me eat in peace
Do your work and go get your own food
That’s better...
Ah, now for some cat food, a catnap after
and some cat peace for a while at least
without adoring humans who think
they’ve got a circus just because they’ve got a cat at home

…meow, meow, meow…

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

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

…meow, meow, meow…

C
is confused, so a little complex
I mean, one moment it’s top of the range
glowing
in the hierarchy of vitamins
but next it’s a little abashed and low
in a student’s report card –
you know, C is not as good as an A
And so can you blame C for its mood swings?
Its agony continues:
one instant C is Calm, in another it’s a Curse


And you know it also feels a little wanting
a little under-stretched, not fulfilled
like not being able to complete
all the stretching exercises
its fitness trainer metes out
“O, if only I could be a little more yogic,”
C intones
“I’d be as composed as an O” -
but O no, that’s not to be

And don’t you start
on the indignant possibilities
of the letter C, for C has always aspired
you see
to be genteel, cultured and debonair
and curls with disgust if the uncouth
should use the letter  
to refer to any body parts,
be it that of male or of female
So, dear mortals, C should be left in celestial spheres

And so, in conclusion,
one Commandment I give unto you:
*Never drag C to ****** shallows

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

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

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

1
full of faith and belief
I prayed and prayed;
and at long last God
(don’t imagine a He or She)
said to me:
“I’m moved by your faith.
Is there something you’d like?”

I shook my head.

And God smiled
and said:
“Would you like
some gold, oil and money?”

“No,” I said
and prayed and prayed.


“A never-ending supply
of food, perhaps?”
asked God.

“No, no,” I said,
and prayed and prayed.

“The gift of poetry, perhaps?”
asked God.

“No, no, never that.
What, you want to ruin me?”
I said,
and prayed and prayed.


“Wealth? Fame?
A good obedient wife
who can’t speak, perhaps?”
said good God.


“No, no, “
I said
and prayed and prayed.



2
“Shall I,” offered God,
“remove all suffering
from the world?”


“No,” I said.
“The world’s already used to it.”
And I prayed and prayed.


“Look, you must tell me
what you want,”
said God, now appearing a little irritated.

“Oh well, if you insist,”
I said.
“I want your job.”

And God disappeared
as fast as speedy Gonzales.

cheap people laugh
at others for being cheap;
they're so cheap
they think others must be cheap
just like them

1
case in point:
see, I've always been misunderstood
by these cheap people -
like even when I buy my friends
a drink
they call me cheap
cos they expect one each  -
now, how cheap can they get?


2
and my girlfriend
comes to my apartment
with me
and then talks behind my back:
"He sticks popcorn to the ceiling
cos it's cheaper than a smoke alarm" -
now, how cheap can they get?


3
and I'm at the shop
looking for this perfume
for my girlfriend
and I don't like the $50 bottle
and not the $30 bottle
the shop girl shows me;
and not the $15 one either
and I say to her:
"What I'd like to see
is something cheap" -
and she holds a mirror to my face...
Now, how cheap can they get?



yeah, cheap people laugh
at others for being cheap;
they're so cheap
they think others must be cheap
just like them

What will you do
Tiny Tim;
what will you do
when you’re grown
and big like your daddy?

I’ll be working on the moon
harvesting moon rice;
and I’ll send you moonbeams back
in cans
that you can put in your room
to glow all night

What will you do
Little Lin;
what will you do
when you’re grown
and big like your mom?

I’ll be teaching earth sciences
at the University of Pluto;
I’ll be teaching aliens
to learn from the rights and wrongs
of our human race

What will you do
tiny Amardeep;
what will you do
when you’re grown
and big like your Uncle Jasbir?*

I’ll be building bridges, Uncle;
I’ll be building bridges
between Mars and Jupiter
and space tunnels
between Earth and Saturn

SCHOOL PROJECT: INSTRUCTIONS

^)
SUBJECT AREA: Life cycle
TOPIC: Destruction
Project instructions:
^)
In a group of 5
pick a planet
in the ******* Zone
^^)
Destroy
the planet
and all in it
^^)
Return to school
^^^**# before dismissal


Project report submission
^)
Free Play:
No report
^^)
Result: report your result
in minimalist style



STUDENT GROUP PROJECT REPORT

^^)
SUBJECT AREA: Life cycle
TOPIC: Destruction
Student Report (Minimalist): Destroy Planet

^) We picked planet Earth
^) We used TErWOp Pointer;
burned Planet Earth in seconds;
ashes in URN(^--+^)
collected using DYUarmprong
We had full insight, life-cycle

City Slicker was lost in the bush -
two days without food
and no water
(battery in his smartphone died
so he couldn't google how to survive)
and then he stumbled into a farm
and he found a nice big cow
and he started drinking its milk straight off

But naive City Slicker, he died
How?
*The cow sat down

again and again we copy and imitate
and crave to be shaped
or we create ideas and cherished notions
and we cling to traditions and hopes and inspirations;
and we run to this and then to that
and we say this is revelation, this is the Divine
and this is the path
and we have solutions and formulas
and plans and consolations
and we say this is the truth and that is the truth
and this is the leader
and we crave for stimulants
we eat cliches
we bow to consuming and demanding Revelations
that eat minds;
and we crave for things that offer solutions
that offer certainty
and so we believe, we rather believe
and this the Blessed
and that one the Chosen
and this the Ultimate True Guide:
always chasing, always wanting to be led
always wanting to be burdened
like trained donkeys, with heavy loads;
always wanting Super Powers, Omnipotence
always the leverage of a Supreme Being
always division: the All Powerful and the Weakling;
always believing, always believing
in such complexities, such mysteries
but it is simple;
drop everything
and see what is left...
but one will not do it
for one would rather cling to something and notions
and authority
and wait for someone else to describe it
rather than seeing it oneself;
one would rather revere

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


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

Tomcat has his breakfast
of Mice Krispies
and reads his mewspapers
when Molly comes out with a snarl
in her purr-ple pajamas

she claws him all over
there’s such a caterwauling
and Tomcat emerges bewildered:
What? Why?

She’s upset that all night
her hubby Tomcat
called out for Cat Woman in his sleep
And what do I do with Tomcat
after this Claw Enforcement? thinks Molly
*Oh, just hiss and make up

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

Come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today;
though you may lie
in a corner of the streets
and call strangers family;
or live in the country
or go moving about
from place to place
- you still have a home
and mom and dad
and your sister and brother
waiting to see you


we woke up one day
and found your room empty;
you were the quiet sort always
never told anybody
and just left us
and threw yourself
into the wide continent
perhaps moving from city to city


Come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today;
a festive call home
from a public phone
to speak with mama
and dad is not enough
and a hello to your teary siblings
does not bring a smile:
we want to hug that lovely girl
we all know –
Oh come home, sweetheart


Mum keeps your room
tidy like the day you left it;
mum tells everyone you’ll
be back someday;
it’s like she carries you in her
a second time:
O come home
sweetheart
wherever you may be
today

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

come on in, baby
it’s your world too
come in and have a seat
take your place;
it’s not just passive:
take what you need
and give what you can


there are no in doors
and no out doors
as you can see,
though each will have one’s time;
so come on in, baby
it’s your day to begin
any time you’re ready

you might think
it’s all good to go crazy;
or you might think it fit
to be fair, just
and moderate
to give and receive love

you choose there, baby
in your seat
you make your own movie;
and whichever genre you choose
one day, sweetheart,
you’ll be your own critic
you’ll write your own review

come on in, baby
it’s your world too
come in and have a seat
take your place;
it’s not just passive:
take what you need
and give what you can

come, sun rays
kiss my naked feet
bite them, if you think them ****;
put your warmth
in every toe
and re-kindle the flames in my blood;
**** the fungus if you find any there
under or on the nails -
and Oh, I so love your touch
and the way you bounce off my feet;
but you’re really greedy
sun rays -
you kiss and you bite…
Oh I’ll go now, sun rays
you’re turning too hot;
I’ll come back later
at my own pleasure
if I like
when I need more

come, we are lovers
who have taken our pleasures
all through night
we have taken what each can give
and exchanged ****** fluids
and we have lived
a range of sensations
and shown each other skills of the flesh

and now it is dawn
come though we are lovers
we must depart
for day signals toil and roles we must play
till night comes again and we may express
each to the other
bring out from within
what light suppresses all day
and what darkness excites all night

come then, we as lovers
it is dawn and it is time
for each to be in one’s proper place
till once again we meet
in night’s desired transgressions

we are here
rowing in gently near to the shore
and even now you can see
the peaks, mountains and the valleys
and the giant pines and willow
and the embracing peace, the pervasive quiet...
you see a lone figure there, enjoying a walk;
there is a little village there of huts
whose humble folk will serve you in all ways
though you will never meet them...
the guardians in the longhouse
there past the peaks
will see to all your needs
and you shall not want anything in creature comforts...
you shall be on land shortly and you will be escorted to the longhouse
and the guardians there will see to your walks
and to ensure the villagers do not meet you...
the guardians will speak of these things
and arrange these things...
yes, I know of that matter...and I can speak of it...
they will provide you with paper and ink and brushes...
but all you produce will be stored in the library there in the longhouse...
you may peruse, but you may not bring the works away...
even your works...all you create is no longer yours...
I hear you are not to leave the longhouse compounds unattended...
the guardians will speak to you of these matters...
there will be solitude
there will be respect
they will look to your every need
but as you know
none of your kind brought here
ever returns...
so then I wish you days of gentleness
and peace and quiet to your last days here...
we are come very near
and between the rocks there we shall stop and you shall disembark...

….concerning my adventures in Hell, as others have spoken of theirs in Heaven, and of the extrapolations thereof…



1
All right, you guys
I mean even neurosurgeons
are telling us now how real is Heaven
They’ve been there and back
so I guess you’d believe me
(just me an irreverent poet)
if I told you there’s Hell
for I’ve been there and catapulted back:
I mean trust me, guys

2
So in my nights
I was there in Hell
and the Red Master said:
“You’ve got a choice, buddy
to determine your eternity”
Well I knew straight away I was in Big ****
Should have read my Big Book
when I was on Planet Earth

3
Red Master showed me a room
where the inmates were
up to their necks in ****
and I said:  *“No, I’ll give this the miss”

And so Red Master showed me
the next room where the inmates
were in **** to their noses
and I said, “Pass…let’s move on to the last ”

And sure enough
the third room was comfy –
the inmates were up to their knees in ****
and each enjoying a cup of coffee
And I told the Red Master I could live with this
but then the Red Master screamed at the inmates there:
“ All Right, you pigs! Break Time over!
Back on your heads in your ****!”

4
And it was then I was shot back to Earth
and so whether Heaven or Hell
Neurosurgeon or Poet
you can be certain now
Heaven and Hell exist –
One for the Wise, one for the Fool
It’s your call, buddy -
Big Book or Big ****?

....this poem is dedicated to our fellow-poet here at HP, Marisa White...


Corax versus Tisias*


(1) CORAX PRESENTS HIS CASE

Sirs, you most esteemed judges in all of Syracuse
most revered in all of our Greek world
I, Corax - known fondly, no doubt, as The Crow -
charge this man Tisias my student in rhetoric
of a mean trick against me, his teacher; he is a cheat
He entreated me often to teach him the smooth Art of Persuasion
the Perfection I had shaped in Rhetoric
And I agreed, after due consideration, prompted by my sense of duty;
and it was agreed he would pay me only if he wins
his first case in our esteemed courts
But Sirs, mark you well his treachery  -
for having learned of me my 5-Stage Movement in Persuasion
he then has refused to take any legal case in court
so he would never have to pay me my due
And so it is now I have forced him to court;
and so I trust, most Honourable Judges, in your wisdom
If I win the case, I should naturally receive all payment;
if I should lose the case, Tisias wins, and so - logically -
he should pay me…Ah, I submit myself to your wisdom


(2) TISIAS PRESENTS HIS CASE

Sirs, it is most true I was taught by Corax
but I have not kept away from court deliberately
but of fear - for I have no confidence in the rhetoric
he has taught me
For all he taught me was reliance on flattery
which I know, Sirs, never moves you
And so Sirs, if I should lose, it is I who should be paid
by the terms of the agreement;
and if I should win, in spite of his poor instruction,
then it is I again who should be paid for I win then
by my own naturalness
and by your aversion to flattery


(3) THE ESTEEMED JUDGES MAKE THEIR DECISION KNOWN

“Kakou korakas kakon oon”*
which translated in the vernacular, you commoners, is:
“Bad Crow, Bad Egg”

Case dismissed!
Throw the Crow and its Egg out of this Revered Court!

Tell me anyone
Caesar or Pharaoh
Emperor or Beggar
Saint or the ****** -
tell me anyone,
if you ever found life
stable, smooth and fluid

Let's dance then
with clothes of silk
and a life of ease
let's throw our arms about
our feet like a deer in a run
a life smooth and refined
for that's the best we can do

Let life sway as in a dance
Let there be energy in purpose
and intent
And take a leap -
never a bow
Let your hair fly
and your clothes in the air
A life light and nimble
for that's the best we can do

Tell me anyone
Caesar or Pharaoh
Emperor or Beggar
Saint or the ******-
tell me anyone
if you ever found life
stable, smooth and fluid

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

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

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

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

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

Sir, I do not see the necessity
of this your classroom exercise that
I should calculate numbers
and perform addition and subtraction feats
all in my head;
this is really too much, Sir…
and while I have always thought you kind and benign,
I see now you have a sadistic streak
Perhaps, Sir –
your childhood was likely not a happy one,
and you now unleash all your anger on us
poor young things and demand we use our heads.
Ah Sir, what did they do to you in your childhood
that you should inflict this counting in heads on us?
It might help you heal to talk
about your childhood travails, Sir –
rather than use this form of torture on youth and so perpetuate this…
For truly, Sir - this counting in my head
which you require today
is really too much;
I mean I have used my fingers and my toes
and I have used pebbles and beads and shells to count
like 1 bead to represent the number 10 and so on…
And when all else have failed
I have even used other people’s heads to count!
and so I can do it all that way
but to use my own head, Sir, as you demand
now that causes in me a severe headache
Sir – really you should not inflict this on us
for I predict now, Sir –
there will be a day when
someone will invent some form of tablet
as in tales of magic and fairies
in which one will be able
to touch numbers on the tablet
and the tablet will be powered within
and the tablet will do all calculations for one, Sir –
and then what need this calculating in one’s head?
Ah Sir, enough of your old age and ancient theories
and ready yourself for the brave new world
for really
this counting in my head
makes my head spin round…

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

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

1)
There are three letters
which form strange company -
that's, let me announce them:
C, P and E
(audience claps; C, P and E bow)

2)
Which word
(this may sound a little twisted)
begins and ends with the same one letter of the three -
and yet, impossibly, has only one letter?
That's E - as in an envelope, see?
and it's only got one letter!
...ha,ha...he, he, he...
(audience laughs, E grins)

3)
And now, of these three -
C, P and E -
which holds most water?
(audience, please,  look puzzled)
Why, C - C has the most water, see?
...he, he, he...
(wave of tolerant laughter sweeps over the audience)


4)
And now for the finale
(audience shows signs of impatience;
C, P and E appear nonchalant):
What starts with the letter P
and ends with the letter E
and - wait for this -
has thousands of letters?
da, da, di, da, da, di, dum...hmmm?
well...the....POST OFFICE!
(the audience does not laugh
as most nowadays
don't know what a post office is -
just look at each potbelly;
C, P and E nevertheless take a bow)

-----------------------------------------
(audience heaves sigh of relief
as they leave)

floating and moving
said the light cloud
to the sun:
I love you, I love you
And said the cruel sun:
Yeah, and who loves you?


dancing and swaying
said the bee to the
lovely flower:
I love you, I love you
And said the cruel flower:
Yeah, and who loves you?


and the moon,
the observer of all hearts,
sang:
*Oh there is love for all
and love for each;
for each is precious indeed;
so don’t mind the cruel hearts -
there is love enough, sweethearts

Hey, he’s dead -
just leave him
and come with me;
I’ll get you another one -
he’ll be warm
and let you rest your head on his broad chest
comfy and nice.
Just dump this one;
he’s been dead long enough
and will not return to give you a hug
bring back some flowers, bread or meat
or to annoy you with unwashed dishes.
Get up and stop this mourning
and trust me
for I’ve got a bow and arrow
and rarely do I miss my mark;
and though my name may rhyme with Stupid
and I may be portrayed in the galleries
as a mere child
trust me
I know more about these matters of the heart
than generations of men and women
who have ever lived on this planet earth
and who have ever loved
and who are all now buried
or fired up into ash;
so come,
sweetheart –
and, in the language of the poets,
I’ll show you fresh green pastures
or an ocean full of fish, if you like;
or, to pursue folk-imagery if you prefer,
let sleeping dogs lie, as they might say –
so let dead men rest in pieces where they are;
you come with me now and I’ll use my arrow
to pin down for you a suitable one –
a man alive, whole and who can return kisses
when you give one;
come with me,
sweetheart – the living don’t call me Cupid for nothing…
and if you don’t come
then you deserve the name that rhymes with mine.
Come, we’ll go catch what you want;
and these days, we can even internet you one.

daddy, daddy,
I can't go to school

why darling,
what's wrong
with you?


I've got a runny nose,
daddy -
can't you see?
and my cheeks are blue
I just think
I've got the flu


but sweetheart,
you look
as fresh as the rose
outside your room;
and darling
your eyes glow
like sparklers in New Year


but daddy, daddy
hear me carefully:
my voice is hoarse;
don't you think
I sound like granny?


oh, OK darling -
you don't have to go to school;
though, today is the day we stop
for pancakes
before school
and we stop for
doughnuts after;
but that's all fine
if you're sick
just stay at home
and you can't have either


but daddy, daddy
I CAN go to school;
see my nose 's fixed itself now
and my voice is again
as clear as the school bell;
and just as you say
my face is as fresh as the rose
outside my room
and my eyes glow
like New Year sparklers:
so what are you waiting for, daddy?
put on your shoes
get your car keys
and let's GO!

When Adam
first saw God
he said:
Daddy! Daddy!

And God said:
Hey! Stop calling me that!
Don't you get too familiar with me, boy!

Oh, said Adam,
but you created me
so why can't I call you Daddy?

NO! thundered Mighty God.
And that is that!

OK, said Adam.
How about I call you Dr Frankenstein?

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

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

Mom told us Dad had been
a spoiled brat, dependent and
his parents never let him
do any work at home

so about a year after
they were married
Mom managed to send him off
to the shops with a shopping list
(yes, it took Mom a year
to persuade him to go alone to the shops)

And dad came back home
pleased with himself,
carrying:
1 bag of flour
2 bottles of sauce
3 boxes of corn flakes
4 bottles of milk
5 bags of sugar
6 bottles of olive oil
7 bottles of vinegar
and
8 bags of salt

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



Dad, the Kid, and the Girl Next Door

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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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

Dad sighs with relief…

daffy duck is tired
daffy duck is quacking tired of being drawn
and being scripted
and engineered
into always being a cartoon character;
daffy duck no longer wants to be
daffy duck the cartoon character
daffy duck wants to be a philosopher
which is all quite quacking satisfying
even just to think about


and so daffy duck the philosopher thinks:
daffy duck thinks, therefore daffy duck is;
but if I, daffy duck do not think I am daffy duck
and renounce all the scripts and the words
and the expectations and the roles;
if I do not think I am daffy duck
I am no longer daffy duck
or, for that matter, any quacking duck



and so (much to the dismay of loyal fans
who want always to be Daffy Duck Fans)
daffy duck is no more the cartoon character
and becomes daffy duck the philosopher;
and daffy duck the philosopher
thinks himself out of the quacking role
of daffy duck as any quacking duck
or anybody at all
(much to the dismay of loyal fans
who want always to be Daffy Duck Fans)

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

Like how? Like below…

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

we bring you life today
sway right and left
and forward and back
and gyrate
and turn and twist;
and life is fruit and flesh
and it is pleasure and joy too
and we bring in our bodies
in our bodies, in our nakedness
we bring you mystery
and the passion of gods -
O, sink your teeth into us
for
we bring you life today
sway right and left
and forward and back
and gyrate
and turn and twist
as everyday
and life is ecstasy and wow!
and moans and groans, and twists and turns
and life is pain, and death and danger
and allurement and traps
take it all on a tray, take it all from us
life and death and pleasure and danger all
for today as everyday
we bring you life today
sway right and left
and forward and back
and gyrate
and turn and twist
and life is fruit and flesh

sa sa sa sa
sa sa sa la la sa
la la ma ma da da la la sa sa
O one foot up
one foot down
left hand here
right hand there
where goes the body
and where the mind?
sa sa sa sa
sa sa sa la la sa
la la ma ma da da la sa sa
dancing in the world
to drums and flute
and strings and cymbals
and wood and metal
where is one
where is the other
which is my shape
where dance my clothes?
which is first, which is end?
sa sa sa sa
sa sa sa la la sa
la la ma ma da da la sa sa
happy face and light heart
they connect
in moving limbs and fluid music
where is the dancer, the music
where is solid, where is fluid?
where is earth, where the sky?
where I put my feet is the ocean
where my sleeves fly is space
where I put my fingertips is life
where I look is delight
O one foot up
one foot down
left hand here
right hand there
where goes the body
and where the mind?
sa sa sa sa
sa sa sa la la sa
la la ma ma da da la sa sa

here is the forest
the world withdraws a little;
quiet, silent and calm
the trees wait in their own nature

The morning is beautiful, the progress of the day smooth and the evening pleasant and the nights pensive and still. Time moves slowly and thought is as radiant as the sunlight that streams through.

Let us dwell here then a while, where it is peaceful. Let us rest us here awhile where the world drops off, distant from one.

the path leads nowhere
one is drawn to silence;
the leaves glisten
and the breeze speaks
of things past words

*Let us rest then in this, where the clamor ceases, where beauty may keep one company.

so in ancient Rome
Caelius bumps into
his friend in the streets
and he says:
“Hey, Domitius
I thought you were dead”

Domitius laughs and he says:
“Well, you can see I’m alive”

“Yes,” says Caelius, *“but you must be dead
for I had the information
from someone more reliable than you”