Evil of rivalry
Be it a root, shoot, bark or leaves,
Be it sepals, petals, ovary or seeds.
No rivalry, no infighting, no usurpation.
Their goal is to live their parts and die.
They have no sixth sense to rival.
22.06.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
No single object is like you
In a heap of coal I see your hair;
In bean’s petals, I see your odd lips,
In cashew apple your invisible breasts,
In empty bladder your flattened stomach,
In leanness of crane your svelte limbs,
In freshness of shoot, your youthful skin
But none of them in its own is akin
To the glow your parts have, the angel!
04.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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Fortune helps the game.
How to take a ball to the opposite court-
By kick, shot, pass will not ensure a goal.
How to convert it to a goal secures the goal.
But for good luck, you are nowhere, mind.
02.06.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It Is The Details, Be Aware, And Then Be Creative
he could not believe you
when you enumerated all the parts of the flower
what he meant perhaps was only a petal
how it smells at six o'cock in the evening
when you are with him but you said, in all completer
scientific details as follows:
the flower is made of its:
1.Petals are used to attract insects into the flower,
they may have guidelines on them and be scented.
2.Stigma Is covered in a sticky substance that the pollen grains will adhere to.
3. The style raises the stigma away from the Ovary to decrease the likelihood of pollen contamination. It varies in length.
4.Ovary This protects the ovule and once fertilisation has taken place it will become the fruit.
5. The Ovule is like the egg in animals and once fertilisation has taken place will become the seed.
6.Receptacle This is the flower's attachment to the stalk and in some cases becomes part of the fruit after fertilisation e.g. strawberry.
7.Flower stalk Gives support to the flower and elevates the flower for the insects.
8.Nectary This is where a sugary solution called nectar is held to attract insects.
9.Sepal Sepals protect the flower whilst the flower is developing from a bud.
10.Filament This is the stalk of the Anther.
11.Anther The Anthers contain pollen sacs. The sacs release pollen on to the outside of the anthers that brush against insects on entering the flowers. The pollen once deposited on the insect is transferred to the stigma of another flower or the same flower. The ovule is then able to be fertilised.
he could have been sad. He wants the poetic sense of things
not the scientific, realistic approach
to something, like a flower,
the symbol of his love for you.
You busy yourself, without feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Roots and shoots to feed
Your phallus is the root tip.
Your brain is the shoot tip.
Legs- root laterals.
Hands- shoot laterals.
Torso is the stem.
Navel is the centre of equilibrium.
No shoot development
without root enrichment.
No root development
without shoot enrichment.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mind not the ingratitude.
I sow the seeds for the harvest.
I curse not them if they fail.
I lend one helps for good will.
I curse one who fails to return.
Anger goes to where
There is response.
02.06.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The seventh sense
Beside five senses, you have the sixth.
It is your mind. Also you have seventh.
It is the fitness instincts, which blend
The feelings for the concrete through the fives
And that for the abstract through the sixth.
10.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be with stuff
A pleasant face, a sturdy body,
A sweet voce, a graceful walk,
The composure, the rhythmic steps,
A sense of cleanliness, some talents in arts,
The mannerism, the intelligence,
A sense for fidelity and loyalty-
Can’t you try to possess the above
Or as much you can, to stay wanted?
25.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What is sense?
A fool speaks nonsense,
In which a wise one finds sense.
A wise one makes all sense
That a fool takes as nonsense.
What is sense?
21.05.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Child is one’s extension.
Roots and shoots are parts of a plant.
Leaves and flowers are their outgrowths.
Seeds are their fused extension.
Child, like seeds, is from you, not through you.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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All in one cannot be good
An orchid provokes one by its ornamental flowers.
A coconut strikes one with bunches of nuts.
So do the cashew with its apple and
Pine with branches in good shape.
If all in one, can each strike that much?
No, in you your lips are distinct
That hooks me, with other parts in oblivion.
06.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Make me a cheat, dear.
Is your refusal to see me from
My perusal to see you?
Is your refusal to requite love
My perusal to repeat?
Is not the unfurling petals for
The untiring beetles?
For your momentary pleasure?
For one more to your portfolio?
I like you to be a cheat
As by that you’ll be upbeat.
06.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Be a cheat, dear.
Is your refusal to see me from
My perusal to see you?
Is your refusal to requite love
My perusal to repeat?
Is not the unfurling petals for
The untiring beetles?
For your momentary pleasure?
For one more to your portfolio?
I like you to be a cheat
As by that you’ll be upbeat.
06.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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High Noon (2)
something happened
on high noon
the world stopped
spinning
the hands of the clock
become
a single line
pointing to the cause
of the death
of her innocence
petals falling off
sepals dismembered
a man cuts a stalk
and leaves the roots
mourning upon the
bitter, sticky sap of loss
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Because Youth Is A Flower
because youth is a flower
that blooms only once
one must be kind to use
hands which are gentle
a flower is fragile with
petals and sepals and
stalks not strong enough
to withstand the demands of
time
the flower that blooms today
tomorrow shall die
each moment is crucial
each bloom cannot last forever
the flowers of my youth
if well taken cared of
shall proceed with its fruits
and its seeds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No one likes you for your flirting.
I was lavish with spreading the message of
my romance
To the known and the unknown with a
sense of eminence,
To earn a mileage out of it by imbuing
others with jealousy,
But others from my back branded me as
a womanizer.
09.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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That is wisdom
Live for you,
Then for your family,
For nation, for mankind,
And for environment,
The last one must over weigh,
If you want to prove
You have got wisdom.
28.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Happy moments
Whenever there is privacy
You are liberal with your instincts.
When it is coupled with secrecy
You are double liberal with it
There lies your soul’s intimacy,
Which gives you a sense of ecstasy.
01.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Unloved is man
Anther stops with pollination.
Ovary starts with fertilization.
Man loves woman, who in turn,
Her children. Who loves man?
14.08.2002, Chennai
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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