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Raj Arumugam Sep 2010
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!
ioan pearce Feb 2010
we'm from the valleys,
high in wales,
dull  as donkeys,
hard as nails.

torvaen town,blaenavon gwent,
council caves,that some pay rent.
black and white tellys,
run on gas,
houses wiv lectric,is upper class.

we shoplift in winter,
cos summers no good,
you  can't wear coats,
you can't wear hoods.

we once mined coal,
made steel and iron,
honest hardmen,
pittance relied on.

now thats all gone,
thro government bullies,
now hoodies steal goodies,
from tesco and woolies.

valley boy logic,
philosophy real,
all good fings come.
....to those who steal.
silly kids oh silly kids are so stupid kids, asking me, the wrong person to be put in a team



oh yeah i was coming out of woolies with my chocolate and my drinks

and the kids asked me to sign them up for the magpies

just because i had a magpies t shirt on

he was a poor poor kid, whose parents don’t give a **** about him

but really i don’t know how i can help him

because he wanted to play footy, well, what boy doesn’t

well, probably he is teasing me, but i think he is a poor kid suffering

under, tony, fucken abbotts, wing

and this kid needs to be given a go, but i think he was weird ya see

because i am just the bbq man, and i have no authority to put him in a team

i love life, and i hate men who bully, any kind of bullying

i don’t want to get bullied, I’m just want to do my art

and eat chicken wings, and go on outings with people i know

i hate what the young dudes used to say to me, they were horrible

to me, i was a nice person, never put a foot wrong

that kid was under a spell from tony abbott or ronnie biggs and ted bunny

yeah it could be cosmic, or he might really want to play for the magpies

magpies club there is a kid on hawker who wants to play for the club

ok dudes give him a go 4 it
Ottar Apr 2015
I
thought when
I first wrote

Poetry
it was
the release of

Woe
in me,
but for awhile

I
see my
style and who

I
write for
my audience of

One,

but,

Bullies,
pull the woolies
over eyes that sheepishly
turn away, look away, look away,

I had a teacher once who that
thought by giving me D's and
E's in English and jokingly
add in front of the class...

"Hey Elverum you got one
of your two initials, wanna
hazard a guess?"

When I was in
the Army,
had an MWO,
who was nick
named the Wicked
Witch of the West,
as his features
made you feel
like Dorothy, in
the Land of Oz
and because "there's no place like home"
                       "there's no place like home"
                       "there's no place like home"

So
it is
with sad attention

I
see there
is a bully

Here,
here, said
the judge, jury

So
there should
be, because poetry

Is
not about
the freedom of

Expression,
through speech,
it is about

Grading
and wizardry
and being numero

Uno
a legend
in his own

Mind
my manners
mind my tongue

Words
that are
spit like salvo's

Not
marshmallow's with
hard hearted centres

Poetry
is meant
to be read

If
I ask
for your critique

Would
you send
me a bill

Or
just your
ill will, toxins

Instill
your commanding
presence on the

Young
and the
new, who dare

To
bad mouth
you, your just

One,
how does
it feel to

be
so alone
like the sound

of
one hand
clapping as you

dashed
another soul
to the rocks

below
the belt
with svelte wit

But
alas, I
only write for

An
audience of
one, you ain't

IT.
MWO - Master Warrant Officer
In quotes from the Wizard of Oz
there are many of  those who give honest critiques, but please
Write poetry if you are the poet you believe yourself to be.
People will critique here, that is part of being an open site,
people will comment here that is part of being an open site,
you can wear it, or throw it back, the number of poems someone
does does not necessarily make them a poet, it means they send
a warning, it means they may care, it means they are getting paid
to fill the feed, so in that one be aware, it means they are retired
and want to spend it here, whether they are in Arizona, or a cheap
flat in Pittsburgh (sorry Pittsburgh Poets), did you invite the critique
or offer them a cheek, or are they just an angry one, with so much
baggage tied to once was a vital career, and being an open site they
bully every one here?  Sadly not everyone who writes poetry is a poet,
and not every poet, writes poetry every time, so keep writing and let
the words fall where they may, read out loud the sounds of the words,
to they take the shape of your heart, make your soul visible, burn the
crucible hotter than the edge of the lake, called the Abyss, who ******
in his corn flakes anyway?
William Edwards Jul 2020
Frustration I can understand,
Devastation I cannot bear,
King saw the promised land,
In the dream that we all share.
Tear that falls or persevere,
Across the land of ‘opportunity’,
Where do we go from here?
Chaos or community?
We sat through hate in Woolies,
Walked past Birmingham’s barks,
Rose a people ravished in slavery,
Yet in this stand tarnish Parks.
Voices are clearer than crackles of fire,
Change must be built peace by peace,
Though I know the situation is dire,
One must show beauty to tame the beast.
We will never see the coming of the lord,
Through the suffocating smoke, of the horde.
Way back in the year 2013
Brian Allan heard voices from far and wide
It started with his father Barry and brother Chris all driving around his mind
Saying come on come on
Come with us and we will show you fun and Brian was jumping up and down writing letters on the computer trying to get these rotten voices out of his mind because Brian wanted to run so he can lose weight and feel good about himself
And as Brian ran he said to the cool people I wanna be famous and they sarcastically said you want to be famous used as a tease
Then as he went inside he heard his father driving up above saying I would rather die rather than help you through it
And he said I will die I will die
This made Brian worry because he was trying to get on with his dad Just to hear him say that
Then Brian sat down and suddenly all these voices were flying around hid head
Voices of family brother dad and mum voices of uncle Stan and daphne snd Kevin from the other side and granny flying around making hot cross buns
Even if she never cooked them before
Brian's mate Patrick Being the long lost mate  and lucky and muscles fluffy and snoopy and
And lady and Mitsy snd Trudy
And then his mate denial said
Mate you should not worry about your voices all you need to listen to calm music and the voice of Cath kershal who was my boss at work saying
You shouldn't work tomorrow if you feel the way you do Just get better and then as I was throwing my stuff over the balcony I heard voices from neighbours saying graham Thorne would not do this he was only a kid when he died
And I was throwing stuff out
Using it as fuel to send the house right up to the clouds and all the voices o heard will be coming up to join me and
I can sit up here looking down on the Mother Earth saying
I want to be up here never to return to earth
When I do go to earth I will go to woolies to steal a coke and
Leave the money on the ground
For the homeless people to pick up
So they can have something each day to eat
While I'll go back and watch heaven cam on every house in the world
But there was two more visitors
To bring the Canberra sports kids toward me
First it was a couple of Maoris and I was feeling the pressures of being poor was leaving
My body and I drank my coke saying I am going off to kick a football with the Canberra sports kids and the Maoris left
And then after 10 minutes I was still making noise
So the police came and they stood watching me as the Canberra sports kids were moving into my body
And just when I had my brother and dad and mum and Patrick
And Stan and Kevin and daphne
And the Canberra sports kids
As well as having a perfect HD
Earth cam perfect tv System
The police wouldn't rest till they arrested me and taken me off to the psych ward
Placed on a psychiatric treatment order
I went to the base ball my last time I went to Sydney and dad died
People die fellas people die fellas
a wodge uh Wrigley’s
  ‘ard an knobbly on thuh underside
uh desks

shufflin’ tuh DJ Caspar
  in thuh ‘all
unduh thuh gaze uh
  year three’s

it were
  packed lunches,
dislodging mi brace
  from thuh roof of mi mouth
like extractin’ a tooth,
  scoffin’ bars uh white chocolate

years-old Blu-Tack
  stamped black intuh carpets,
grey plastic-y chairs,
  writin’ learnin’ objectives,
underlinin’ dates
  with shatterproof rulers,
I upgraded tuh a pen
  in year four

same time
  remember listenin’ on the radio
in Scottish Clark’s mobile
  when it wuh Ingland v Brazil,
summer uh ‘02,
  thuh likes of Sheringham, Beckham
in audio only, no picture,
  and thuh TA came in
  ‘alfway throo a lesson,
said ‘we’re out’

and the time
  I cort that cricket ball,
dived and it stung mi hand,
  a crimson-drizzled palm,
throbbin’ ring

and the time
  we played football wi’ tennis *****
and I blurted intuh a trio
  uh eager classmates,
a tumble-shirt compote,
  knee flecked wi’ grit, mi own spit,
skinny whispers uh blood

and thuh time
  I plagiarised Potter
around Azkaban,
  got a Woolies notebook,
ragged Pritt-Sticked cuttins’
  of Watson in the pink ‘oodie,
but it wuh the seed
  for thuh next decade and more,
standin’ up,
  tellin’ a story,
somethin’ or othuh
Written: October 2017.
Explanation: A poem written for university in my own time, influenced by the work of Liz Berry. Changes are very possible. It is written in a slightly exaggerated version of my accent. Please note that Wrigley's refers to the chewing gum company, DJ Caspar to the musician, year three's/year four to students aged between seven and nine in England, Blu-Tack to the putty-like adhesive, 'Ingland' v Brazil to the knockout round match in the World Cup of 2002 (David Beckham and Teddy Sheringham were players at the time), TA to teaching assistant, Woolies to the former British retail chain Woolworths, Pritt-Stick to the glue stick adhesive, and Watson to the actress Emma Watson. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2019
On-line
off-line
switch on
switch off
type and click
finger-quick
use two hands
smart and slick
the desk-top
the portable
either does the job
in the bus
in the train
(don't mind
the sound of rain)
eyes affixed
users know the tricks
business communication
executive reports
info and stats
saved in records
ah, the Evernote!
(in the office
boss not around
his name is Edward Fox
will send message
happy birthday
to mum who lives
in Milton ***
sorry, mum
too much work
shall see you
on Sunday
at 2 o'clock-

  next--
darling Violet
don't forget
to drop at Woolies
must buy the pork
John and wife
they come for dinner
they travel from York...
one more thing-
the sink is leaking
call in the plumber
Johnson King.....)

Fox is back from lunch
must return to my work
it would be disastrous
to lose my job

5 pm
eyes are tired
fingers are sore
**** the wretched desktop
ready for home
no more
click on
or click off
lousy salary
stingy Fox!
credit-card overdrawn
walk to cheap
tobacco-store
to buy low-grade
(was it duty-paid?
who cares?)
imported
from some Chinese shore.
On this International Women's Day, I write about a simple unknown personality, whom I luckily happen to know very closely ......

MY WOMAN OF SUBSTANCE

Achievers there are hundreds, doctors, engineers, astronauts, chartered accountants et al

But the woman of substance I admire most is, my very own Austi Jerbanu

A great person, a dedicated teacher, who actually lived by the principles she taught

A teacher who just didn't teach; she actually practised every word that she preached

Life tough was when suddenly at a tender age of six, from rich she became very poor

She lost her father; and the family its riches, within months, almost simultaneously

Kids had to go to orphanages, she went to Avabai Petit as Maayji couldn't their fees afford

Clever n outstanding in Studies, they sponsored college which she graciously declined, due to responsibilities at home

Did her teacher's training, remained unmarried to bear the responsibilities of mother n her grandma

Once an accomplished teacher; she brought a niece n nephew to this city, for education better

Along side, she knitted Kusti, n woolies, embroidered sari borders, to well educate the kids

Gave tutions to only two as per rule; but taught a dozen or so kids free

Educated her niece to a prominent surgeon become; n her nephew to a MBA become.

Then came a Bombaite, pampered by her parents, to live with her, as her niece in law

Thus grew my relationship with her into a strong bond, making her my soulmate

Soon she became my very own Jer Mummy, my treasure trove, which she will eternally remain.

Learnt I, so many things from her, but most importantly, the true values of a simple life.

My Shez n I grew up under her wings; she groomed n blossomed us, into beautiful roses

She definitely is the one, n always will be, our all. The one we love, admire and passionately adore.

MY WOMAN OF THIS CENTURY, WHO INCULCATED SO MUCH, SO SELFLESSLY, WITH HER UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. "MA WE LOVE YOU".

Armin Dutia Motashaw

— The End —