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Being childless

Beaming at the growth of my child,
I forgot about myself aging
Till I found I grew pretty old.
Childless I’d have enjoyed my youth.
28.02.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The One White Hair

THE WISEST of the wise
Listen to pretty lies
And love to hear them told;
Doubt not that Solomon
Listen’d to many a one,—
Some in his youth, and more when he grew old.

I never was among
The choir of Wisdom’s song,
But pretty lies lov’d I
As much as any king,
When youth was on the wing,
And (must it then be told?) when youth had quite gone by.

Alas! and I have not
The pleasant hour forgot
When one pert lady said,
“O Walter! I am quite
Bewilder’d with affright!
I see (sit quiet now) a white hair on your head!”

Another more benign
Snipp’d it away from mine,
And in her own dark hair
Pretended it was found…
She leap’d, and twirl’d it round…
Fair as she was, she never was so fair!

poem by Walter Savage Landor
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The Word

There are so many things I have forgot,
That once were much to me, or that were not,
All lost, as is a childless woman's child
And its child's children, in the undefiled
Abyss of what can never be again.
I have forgot, too, names of the mighty men
That fought and lost or won in the old wars,
Of kings and fiends and gods, and most of the stars.
Some things I have forgot that I forget.
But lesser things there are, remembered yet,
Than all the others. One name that I have not --
Though 'tis an empty thingless name -- forgot
Never can die because Spring after Spring
Some thrushes learn to say it as they sing.
There is always one at midday saying it clear
And tart -- the name, only the name I hear.
While perhaps I am thinking of the elder scent
That is like food, or while I am content
With the wild rose scent that is like memory,
This name suddenly is cried out to me
From somewhere in the bushes by a bird
Over and over again, a pure thrush word.

poem by Edward Thomas
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Growth of my son

Pride took me through the growth of my child
And hid me from the growth I underwent.
My son with his age betrays my own age
And made me uncle to all young women.
13.09.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dark Overcome

Dark, the man festered and rescued horror
From actionless thought

he krept on his knees fingernails first
Smelled for blood licked the dirt
With his black tounge

It was fate that grabbed the innocent child
Plucked each hair took light
And with Dark stuffed any light in the air

Childless parents 'wake in terror
Childless now night
Clutched their child
And returned a still-life doll

Hate enraged the parents gaze
To spit the murderer on his grave

Now the man awaked
And forgot his name
Forgot the number of days depraved
Begged the parents to forgive his ways

And the childless father rushed
To stab his nave'
But the judge prevented
For he thought with his eye
Took the darkless man
And ripped out his eyes
Threw him in the street
And told him to cry

Then with the childless man's blade
Slit the feet
For each hair he plucked
On that fatefull day

In one dark action
All men of humanity became defamed

The darkless man awoke the next morn'
For he could not see
But knew the scent of
Pityless boys on the street
His hair was drenched in
How many boys' pee?

And how many parents pointed
In the direction of the darkless
Man for their children to tease?

Every morn' the darkless man
awoke in mourn like this

For three years have past
And the childless father's anger
Grew even more fast

So he took the darkless man
And cut off his ears
Re-slit his feet
And brake all his teeth

Dark stood at the darkless
Man's crown
Stood with a fruit
And smirked at every frown
Pleased at his creation
Of this dark town

Three more years passed by
Each day with new paser-byers
Stuffing the darkless man's mouth
With feet passifiers

Alas
The man died in the seventh year by fire
Now Dark looked for a
New man to brier

To the horror of Dark
The darkless man came
And by his side was the innocent child the same
The two together with Love and Light
Became one or a perfect twain

The Light so bright drove Dark insain
And dredged in shame and judgement
Dark will forever no more remain

And
Light turned to that dark town
And judged mightily every man according
To every mercy they gave

I give you this parable

Seek forgiveness and forgive the same

poem by Deci Hernandez
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To Feel As Man and Woman:

Strong and brave he was;
Tall and high he grew.
Yet he feels knee-less
As he went childless.

Smart and fair she was.
Fame and poise she got.
Yet she feels spineless
As she went childless.

Man must impregnate.
Woman must conceive.
No other merits
Can compensate their steel.

09.01.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Blame It On My Youth

If I expected love when first we kissed
Blame it on my youth
If only just for you I did exist
Blame it on my youth
I believed in everything
Like a child at three
You meant more than everything
All the world to me
If you were on my mind all night and day
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my-y youth
If you were on my mind all night and day-ay
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my youth

song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretty Mary K

Almost forgot
Started to say
Rode into the sun
Asked everyone
Haleluja
Pretty mary k
I found faith in the infirmary
Theres a soldier lying in bed
With a wound to the head
Calling out to pretty mary k
Heres what you get
For things that havent happened yet
Happened upon pretty mary k
But a soldiers uniform
Waved me away
Walk round the door
Talked to st. james
Though Im already done
Ask everyone
Have you seen her
Pretty mary k
Have you seen her
Pretty mary k

song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood on My Heart

I have loved and found loving kind
Until I found myself waiting
And the waiting never seemed to end
The love I felt grew on my soul
Weighted me to this earth
Till I could not stomach it anymore
And looked to cut myself free
It hurt like I had never been told
How could I expect to find this
I never knew the pain of love
Until I first fell into it
Now I just want to forget everything
But there is blood on my heart
Of a dying love how do wash it free
I had love and enjoyed loves company
Till it treated me so unkind
Do I still believe that love is real
Do I believe that its out there for me
I have no answer while I look down
At the blood on my heart

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Desire shifts

Reading is enjoyed, not with the same book.
Listening is enjoyed, not with the same song.
Woman is desired, not with same one.
Variety is the spices the desire demands.
04.05.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dementia

My mother forgot how to swallow.

Before that, she lost my face and my name,
erased from her memory by sickness and age.
Her nurses complained she took too long to feed
They wanted a peg and a tube for the deed

My mother forgot how to swallow

She forgot her late spouse, disremembered her vow.
With the loss of the past there is no here and now.
Once she read to my child, then my girl read to her-
Until all the sounds were a meaningless blur

My mother forgot how to swallow

Jesus and Mary and her patron saint
would loved to have helped her, so weak and so faint,
but she had forgotten the simplest prayer -
the beads in her hand little use to her here.

My mother forgot how to swallow

The night nurses found her while making their round
She was cold to the touch, no pulse to be found
She stared, eyes wide open, at the cross on the wall
Perhaps the Messiah had come after all.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Star Of Bethleham

As a child I first met Christ
and prayed a child's prayer.
I grew
in wisdom,
wealth
and worldly ways,
but lost
that child's prayer.
As age infirms
I seek lost youth
in sky above;
and there
I find
that Eastern Star
my child's prayer;
REJOICE.

poem by Thomas Ruth
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Could be a cruel mother

My husband’s mother loved,
Cared and nursed my son,
More than she did her son,
Pouring her sweats and time.

Someone caring my son
Must be a source of pride
To me beside a relief.
Yet I felt most perturbed.

The child grew under her care;
The child found a good time
To be found near her
With its back towards me.

The lady must exit.
She did as I planned.
The child fell sick and felt
Bad about her absence.

I’ve been much relieved.
The child has much grieved.
I became much spirited
And the child, dispirited.

The welfare of the child
Was not my concern, ho!
My sole concern was that
It was under my spell.

Aren’t I a cruel mother?
21.09.2008

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: Have a Child Soon

You have a child as early as you can,
Before the sun has set in your love-life!
Try hard- ’tis worth the labor woman, man;
Never worry about the added strife.

A family-life isn’t wholesome, spent childless!
Children are gifts of God, our living dolls!
The modern age has made earthlings reckless;
Without a child, you can’t for long rejoice.

Prepare the ground before you sow the seed;
But sow it only when conditions suit;
No married life’s joyful, childless indeed;
What is the use of growing trees sans fruit?

Yet, every tree must bear its fruit somehow!
Set right the environment but start right now.

6-12-2001

poem by John Celes
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Dust Collector

Not as close to center.
And away from the spotlight,
On life's stage.
This becomes evident and noticed,
By the one who becomes of age.
And having it one's way...
Is given.
Without swaying any one's opinion.

'Hey why not?
They are not going to be around here,
That long! '

~They who?
I'm aging too and so are you!
IF you're 'lucky'.~

A withering in appearance,
Is experienced as this 'blessing' occurs.
And the one who goes through the process adapts.
Since encouraging words seem to overflow as heard!
Coming from those still in their youth.

'You seem to be lost!
Do you need help crossing the street? '

~I need no help.
I happen to be thinking of a new recipe,
Thank you! ~

Reminding those who are aging...
How brave it is to have that much nerve,
To allow it to show and be done.
Leaving those in their youth,
Stunned by someone over the age of '31'...
Loving the act of aging!

'Mister, I heard you.
And you are well over '31'.
You are old enough to be my grandfather.'

~And I am willing to bet,
Your 'grandfather' never suggested...
Kids like yourself,
Need to learn how to mind your own business.
I could care less about you being in the spotlight.
I can shine just as bright and with more lustre without it.~

'Listen up...dust collector!
I don't have to pay you any attention at all,
Old man!
Wrap that around those aching bones and wrinkles.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Songs To Aging Children Come

Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone

For Laurie Hill
who suggested I write this.

Gone:
are the effervescent curves
of buildings that served
as lover's dreaming posts
in generation passed by.

Gone:
in the march of progress,
the landmarks of our youth
disappearing under bulldozers
and an expanding population growth.

Gone:
is all the heritage
that we grew up with
during our youthful summer
that was vacant with tears.

Gone:
like our youth
disappearing into nostalgia
with all the things we loved
only leaving stains in our memories.

3 April 2012

poem by David Harris
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Woman’s apathy

If I am impotent,
Let my wife go childless.
If I lost taste for her
Let her go without sex.
This is men’s aptitude.
This is women’s servitude.
20.11.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Childless II

Childless, idle, sell, lies, slid, side, child, hide, hides, he, dies, dice, is;
And like a vessel in which there is no pleasure!
But the desire to return to your land is like the true face of war.

Childless, lid, sells, ill, hill, hills, hell, lie, held, led, chess, less, hiss, die;
And like a dried up river in a village!
But the desire to see your people once again is like the rue face of war.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Don't brand as ungrateful dogs.

I grew a fruit tree that failed to bear.
The hope and joy I got in its growth
Being the reward for my efforts,
I should not curse the tree for its failure.

Let the grown up children desert you.
Let those you helped grow, have forgot you.
The pleasure you experienced then
Is the reward to act as gratitude.
12.02.2012.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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One’s interest in others

The one who has interest in your growth
Is like a shepherd, who has got interest
In the growth and safety of the sheep.
Your interest in others is likewise.
14.09.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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