The ducks
In the monsoon rain
The ducks are eating earthworms
And quacking in joy
poem by Asif Andalib

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Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…
Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…
Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…
Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…
Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…
Monsoon at peak,
Roads flooded,
Where is MCD?
Monsoon at peak,
Umbrellas
New fashion accessory…
Monsoon at peak,
Sun gets much needed
Rest…
Monsoon at peak,
Bathes
Foliage and trees.
Monsoon at peak
Schools closed
Children squeal,
Wish, it rains
Everyday of the week…
Monsoon at peak,
Leave your shoes at the door-
Mother screams…
Monsoon at peak,
Driver stops
To wipe the wind shield…
Monsoon at peak,
Open pavements
Home to many,
Wear deserted look …
Monsoon at peak,
Wet laundry-
Sun rise, please.
poem by Mamta Agarwal

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When the ducks are quacking the frogs take it as a warning.
You May Start Seeing The Dead Earthworms
for a start you have seen dead earthworms
along a muddy pavement
you theorize about their deaths
the reasons
perhaps the waters in the canal rose
and drowned them last night
when you were asleep
perhaps the sun was so hot the other day
while you were working
hard in the office and so they
were scorched
to death
i like it when you reason out
but i like you more when you were sad
and wrote something about
these dead earthworms
and then i slept for days
and dreamed that we hear the earthworms
sing their own songs
in the notes and lyrics of their own
something strange really but
i am so happy
the earthworms too do not just die
they also rise
and they also sing
it will be another beginning for us,
a happy one i suppose
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Thirty Dirty Birds
Thirty dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Along comes Herbie
From thirty-third
And third
Saw the thirty
Dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Boy he was
Disturbed
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain CAN
rain cant tell a lie,
rain can be louder then a fly,
rain cant make shoes
rain can hit the roof
rain cant be nice (person wise)
rain can make ice
rain cant bleed
rain can grow a seed
rain cant draw a toon
rain can make a tune
rain cant be a loon
rain can make a monsoon
so rain can and cant do alot of things.
here comes the rain!
oh look! it's spring!
poem by Its yellow jello my little fellow. yell

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A Poem On A Lonely Monsoon Night
Each dropp of rain
Oozing joy unbound
Contains within itself
The seed, the sapling
Followed by flowers
Whispering petals
Gushing waters
Paper boats
And damp clothes
Time for monsoon fun
If you wake up with drizzle
On your face
Cool breeze tickling
Through the pores
Verging on summer's finale
And smiling monsoon
July is a strange month
Of expectation
And disappointment alike
Longing spreads as a bed spread
On lonely monsoon nights
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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New Friends (Ducks)
I recently went to the small town of Arundel,
And visited the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust.
I spent a relaxing few hours there strolling around.
If you haven’t already been, then you simply must.
After a while of strolling around,
I sat down to relax on a bench.
There were ducks under and around me,
Who had settled down and seemed quite content.
I sat watching tourists being taken
On a boat trip around the reed beds.
I was happy enough to sit watching the ducks:
Some, as they rested and some as they fed.
Sat there, I reached into my bag for a snack,
And, suddenly, dozens of pairs of eyes were on me.
The ducks dared to venture a little closer,
And made it obvious that they were extremely hungry.
I did feel rather guilty and apologized to them,
But there’s notices saying not to feed the ducks.
So, I very respectfully obeyed the rule,
Although, I suspect they think that rule really sucks!
As I strolled around the extensive site,
I could hear webbed feet following in my wake.
Another give away to the identity of my pursuers,
Was that I heard the quacking sound which ducks make.
But, when I turned round to look at them,
They panicked and quickly ran away.
It was if they were asking me,
‘Are you accusing us of following you? No way! ’
I turned away from them and carried on,
And the sound of slapping feet began again.
It made me smile at the apparent disinterest,
Which my pursuers were badly trying to feign.
I especially liked watching the diving ducks,
Who dive underwater, completely out of sight.
It’s usually many seconds before they reappear,
And bob back up into the daylight.
I enjoyed my trip to the nature reserve,
And I made new friends, albeit only for a while.
But I will always remember their funny antics,
And the fact that they managed to make me smile.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Ducks On The Wall
After dinner norman becomes depressed.
Star:
Normans office got on my nerves to-day.
Wife:
What do you mean? you are norman!
Star:
(shouts) I am a star!
Wife:
Youre not a star norman. youre
Just a plain ordinary little bloke and
Even if you walked down the street in
A silver suit people still wouldnt
Recognise you. youre dull, ordinary
And uninteresting! youre a drag!
Star rises from his chair and smashes
The dinner plates to the floor.
Star:
I hate this house and I hate you, but
More than anything else I hate those
Ducks!
Wife:
Dont you touch those ducks norman!
They were a present from my mother.
Look, norman, Ive had enough of you
And your ridiculous fantasies. first of
All you wanted to be a painter, then
You wanted to be an astronaut, then
A footballer and now youre playing at
Being a rock singer. if you touch those
Ducks Im leaving!
Ducks on the wall
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
My ladys got a sort of strange fascination,
An obsessive fixation
For cheap decorations
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, hanging on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I love her so but if she doesnt move the ducks,
I think my mind is gonna go.
Ducks ducks on the wall.
Ducks ducks, hanging on the wall.
I leave the office and I want to relax.
Dont want to stare at a wall
And look at a duck that cant quack.
I love you baby but I cant fall
For those ducks on the wall.
I start to snuggle up and squeeze her so tight.
Then out of the corner of my eye
I see those ducks in flight.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Wo-wo-wo I can sit through your gossip and your soap opera shows,
But those ducks have got to go.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
And when I went to a cocktail party
With the bores next door,
What was the first thing that I saw?
Ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
My babys got the most deplorable taste,
But her biggest mistake
Is hanging over the fireplace.
Shes got ducks, ducks on the wall,
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
Ill sit and look at all the soap operas with her
Ill play all the panel games and watch all the quiz shows,
But those ducks theyve got to go,
Those ducks are getting up my nose.
If those ducks can fly, well so can i.
And if those ducks have got to stay
Then Im going to fly away.
I love you baby but I cant ball
When I see those ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks, ducks on the wall.
Oh those ducks on the wall are beginning to move
Theyre talking to me
Ive got to get away from those ducks.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain (II)
It thundered as if it would rain;
Appeared sultry as if to feign;
The Sky was clear but blue-black now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The clouds were dense and moved slowly;
Lightning patterned the Sky fiercely;
The Wind was almost absent now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The Birds were quiet and nested;
Awaiting the downpour, they rested;
The Monsoon was active for now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
A few droplets of Rain did fall;
Atop the heads of people on stroll;
Afraid, each hurried to his home;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The Rain did come! The Rain did come!
For once rightly, the Rain did come!
poem by John Celes

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The First Rain of Monsoon
In the month of May
The Summer does sway
The first rain of Monsoon
The drizzling started very soon
The weather is so pleasing
In the evening
The breeze is blowing
the leaves are hovering
At the tender touch of rain drops
Rain is good for upcoming crops
The nature get rejuvenated
Spirit of living life elevated
Water in the form of rain
Never goes in vain
Whether India, England or Spain
People wish rain to come again
Pouring in the valleys, raining in the plain
The thirsty Earth values the rain
After the rain sky is clear
The shining leaves become dear
Listen to the music of nature
New melody of every creature
Flattering of the leaves together
Soft gargling sound of water
Enjoying the rain with pleasure
Writing poem on beauty of nature
Shashikant Nishant Sharma
{Written on 12 May,2012 on experiencing the soft touch of first drizzle of the Monsoon in Delhi. The weather was unforgettable and moments cherishable.}
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma

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Baldovan
The scenery of Baldovan
Is most lovely to see,
Near by Dighty Water,
Not far from Dundee.
'Tis health for any one
To be walking there,
O'er the green swards of Baldovan,
And in the forests fair.
There the blackbird and the mavis
Together merrily do sing
In the forest of Baldovan,
Making the woodlands to ring.
'Tis delightful to hear them
On a fine summer day,
Carolling their cheerful notes
So blythe and so gay.
Then there's the little loch near by,
Whereon can be seen every day
Numerous wild ducks swimming
And quacking in their innocent play.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall

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The Value Of Ethics
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
But without a single fact quacked,
How can this duck hide its back...
With beliefs like that.
If a duck quacks and waddles,
Wearing a top hat while quacking...
And yet,
Disguises as a zebra amongst elephants...
To have others guess,
While sipping on champagne with donkeys...
Can this be considered a mess?
Or does this reflect an acceptance?
Representing the value of ethics.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Ducks love Chocolate!
Ducks love chocolate anytime everyday,
They buy it, eat it, especially in May,
One day the ducks ate it in the class,
Then the teacher hurt them which was a lark.
The next day the pupils sued him as he used a spank,
The money went to the pupils which put it in their bank,
The wanted to spend it but then they thought twice,
Then spent it on chocolate which is very nice.
poem by Dotty Ducks

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By a Babbling Brook
This dismal scene inspires me none
Me thinks to sleep for forty winks,
An’ let the brook babble on.
I will close my eyes and
Try to unravel the babble of
A babbling brook.
Maybe it’s a soothing song,
Maybe I’m wrong, but listen
Oh my yes it is indeed it is,
With its dribble and drabble
An’ swirly gurgles
Gurgling and swirling along,
The ducks are quacking
Their peace the frogs are lacking,
An’ by golly I’m singing a babbling song.
Well now me thinks
I’ll have that forty winks.
poem by Ken e Hall

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Dark And Hungry
Dark and hungry,
i grope for your mouth,
swallowing lava burnt air,
lips blistered with prayer.
ducks quacking in flight,
Nickels and dimes in the ashtray...
a song on the radio,
cant remember the name.
hands shake just a little,
unbuttoning your shirt.
a small trail of sweat
between your breasts disappears.
You breathing in gasps,
or not breathing at all....
slide my hand to your longing,
tilt your head, close your eyes...
Grey clouds on the horizon,
miles go by without markers...
two horses in the pasture
not yet victims to time.
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Monsoon
Another rain
Another unstoppable train
Does anybody could see the drain?
Being alone makes me an easy lonely
Without reason
I feel the coming of monsoon
It will be too much gray cloud
It will be too much water
Before my heart breaking drown
Another vain
Another cold friend
Does anybody could care for the grain?
Being alone makes me a little colder
Without season
I feel the coming of monsoon
It will be too much flash of lightning
It will be too much crying
Before my heart breaking frozen
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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The surrogacy
Surrogacy has come to stay,
Shedding any shame of qualm.
Delegate women escape delivery.
Hired mothers gather money.
Ducks lay but don’t hatch eggs.
Hens, instead, do the job for ducks.
Ducklings grow attached to ducks,
With their genes and habits intact..
A woman can beget her child
Without pain of pregnancy,
Within or without marriage
And can remain like a virgin.
24.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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A Guide to Eating Meat
Eating a little beef
Could cause a Hindu grief,
Eating too much chicken
Can make a person sicken,
Eating lots of lamb
Is preferable to Spam,
Eating a leg of pork
Won't make the neighbours talk,
But eating Mum and Dad
Is DEFINITELY BAD! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

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April Rain
The long awaited needed rain
finally came in gentle drops.
Thirsty daffodils greedily
quaffed the tepid precipitate
while their odoriferous scents
reluctantly merged with ozone
creating a pungent bouquet
that stimulated the nostrils.
Far afield from the daffodils
robins comb the newly wet grass
for ever emerging earthworms
that are coaxed above by the rain.
Soon the tugs of war begin
between the two adversaries.
poem by Albert Ahearn

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Monsoon Rains
The Monsoon rains have set at last,
A bit delayed than in the past!
The state is water-logged a lot;
The water-table, up somewhat!
No doubt, the rains are welcome but
Many have lost their lives and hut;
The torrent was sudden and big,
And left most people with no wig!
Many now suffer by the rains;
The water is from sky and drains;
It takes a month to settle down;
This is the scene in every town!
Yet, who does clean the cities’ dumps?
’Tis Nature cleaning dirt, clogs, sumps!
For, no one does this job so well,
Like rain from God that pours like hell!
Nevertheless, it does just good,
Though farmers lose their fields and food!
And roads and bridges get damaged,
They are the bad ones and the aged!
Thank God for Monsoon rains that came,
And give Him praises and not blame!
The world needs water that is fresh;
If not, no one can drink, refresh!
Oh, let the rains come in big way!
And let it rain by night and day!
Let’s face the strife those, come what may!
The Sun will shine when we make hay!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-11-11
poem by John Celes

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