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Raj Arumugam Jun 2014
Well, my deputy had been in the job
a month into it
and the deputy called me on the phone
from the woods nearby, on routine duty:
"Hello sheriff – there’s a body here,
I just noticed, below a tree…he appears dead
What do I do?"

"Well," I answered, with authority
"Before we take things any further,
first, let’s ensure he’s dead -"

And my deputy said:
"Hang on..."
And then my deputy was back on the phone:
*"OK, I just put 3 bullets in him
I’m dead sure he’s dead
What do I do next?"
2nd of my poems in the series on murders, detectives, and such...
Raj Arumugam May 2014
If plants can communicate
so can planets

and so two planets started talking
and one said: How are you?

And the other replied:
I've got a medical condition -
the doctors say I've got
a serious case of **** sapiens

And the first one replied:
*Oh, never you worry about that;
I had the same condition
and it didn't last long
poem based on a joke I found online
Raj Arumugam May 2014
The kid next door
was in his garden
digging with a little *****
like he was burying something

"What you doing, kid?"
I asked earnest little Jerry
"You look like you're burying something"

"Yeah...." replied the boy
"I'm burying my goldfish"

"Oh," I said, with a condescending grin.
"Mighty big grave
for a little goldfish, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Jerry replied.*"That's because
my goldfish is inside your cat"
poem based on a joke I found online
Raj Arumugam May 2014
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."
poem based on a joke from online
Raj Arumugam May 2014
My wife’s given me 6 children
and all we’ve known is each other
so I can’t but help feeling a little
that she’s old, so I started calling her
“Mother of 6” instead
of using her name
So at parties and gatherings
I might say: “Alright, Mother of 6 -
time to go”
Or I might introduce her to new friends as
“This is Mother of 6”

But she obviously can’t take
my humour any more...
last night
as I called out to her
(at the dinner hosted by our neighbors)
when it was time to leave:
“Mother of 6, time to go” -
she retorted just as loud:
“OK, lead the way -
O Father of 4!”

O how I hate people
who can’t take
a joke…
poem based on a joke from online
Raj Arumugam May 2014
Gardener Moe
and Fishermen Joe
are at the pub
and Moe confesses
(his eyes shallow, and moist) -
he’s just lost his woman

“What happened?” asks Joe
his eyes as deep as the ocean

And so Moe groans:
“Susan just left me
It seems I whispered
in lust all night
the name of my former lover Rosie
– so Susan’s left me”

And Fisherman Joe leans forward
so he can be heard
and he shares his wisdom:
*“Even a fish, Moe, will not
get into trouble – if it know'
when to keep its mouth shut”
...poem based on an office poster popular in the 1980s...
Raj Arumugam May 2014
someone's following you online here,
and you want to know why
Well, here's why...take your pick


Oh, I follow you because you look good
and though I never read your poems
I come back often
year after year
to see if you age at all

you don't use your real name
you use a moniker or pseudonym -
and I'm just  going by the desperate hope
you are Obama or Putin incognito
and you might give me asylum one day
if I'm outlawed by one or the other

I'm in jail for life
and this is the only way I can stalk anyone

I was hoping you'd reciprocate
and follow me too -
so why the hell don't you, hypocrite!?

I'm your ****** boss in disguise
and I'm at this site keeping track
of how much office time you waste here,
you ****** loafer!

I'm actually your wife
and I got a thing or two to say to you
about all those comments
you've written for the women here
Same old liar here and at home, aren't you?
Just wait till you get home...

Well, I'm a ****** academic
who never gets creative
so I'm collecting all your poems
and I'll publish them in my name
and there'll be praise all round for me
as academic, and poet, and novelist too
(the novels I steal from my students)

you scratch my back
I scratch yours

Why do I follow you?* -
but aren't you my mum?
You never taught me
to let go of your apron strings

actually, it was a mistake, see
I was on my smartphone and I went
tap, tap, tap
and my index finger fell on "Follow"
and I'm too darned lazy to set it right...
that's how I ended up following you

My cult tells me
the Messiah is here at this site
so I just follow everyone
in case it happens to be you -
it is you, isn't it?
...poem above is just an exercise in imagination (sure, I've heard fiction may be truer than reality) ...exercise your own imagination - add a possibility (or more)  below, please
Raj Arumugam May 2014
Samuel walked up to his boss
and demanded in no uncertain terms:
"You'd best give me a pay rise -
you might want to know
3 companies are after me"

"Wow," said Samuel's boss
deeply impressed. "Which companies?"

"Oh," came Samuel's swift reply
*"The telephone,  electricity
and water companies"
Raj Arumugam Apr 2014
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.”
and I was like, ????
Raj Arumugam Apr 2014
Dad was dying, breathing his last -
would Mark be sad or glad?
Glad - why not? Since Dad’s
a multi-billionaire
and Mark’s the only child
and all things will go to Mark,
to no one else

Mark ’s happy the doctors
said it ’s anytime now
and he must make arrangements
so he asked his long-time,
indecisive sweetheart:
“Hey, Helen baby – my dad’s dying
and I’ll inherit everything
So you got to decide now -
come home with me?”

“Sure thing,” Helen said
as instant as noodles
And Mark and Helen got home -
and look, to make a long story short,
that’s how Helen became Mark's step-ma
And Mark’s sitting in the garden shed
still licking his wounds
poem based on a  joke I found online
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