Grammar of beauty reverses
Wide eyes, wide cheeks,
Thick lips, thick bosom,
Broad hip and plump thy
Of women were alluring then.
Thin eyes, thin cheeks,
Slim limbs, slim breasts,
Slender hip and slender thy
Of women are alluring now.
Man was to lean on her.
Now he is to hold her.
31.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Sexual Fertility
A woman is sexy in whom
Oestrogin is found in spate.
A women generates hormones
As she feels beauty conscious.
Wide eyes, thick lips, plump cheeks
Can be the visual clue
About one’s sexual fertility.
04.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tantalizing
I have seen that her eyes are sharp.
Her eyes are sharp and attentive
But still I dare not encounter them.
They hold my head captive.
I have seen that her nose is stern.
Her nose is stern and aiming
But still that nose I cannot pinch.
It torments my eyes, straining.
I found that her lips are of flesh.
Her lips are fleshy and amorous
But still the very lips I cannot caress.
They render my lips nervous.
I like her face being slim and slender.
Her face is slim and passionate
But still I cannot claim that of her.
It keeps my brain desolate.
I wonder how nimble her limbs are.
Her limbs are nimble and at hand
But still to touch them I don’t dare.
They set my belly to grind.
I understand that her vibes is strong.
Her vibes is strong and resonant
But still me she chose to tantalize.
She left my soul poignant.
Total reticence from her
Might have been better
Rather than raising hope
And then belying it.
05.05.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beauty has no standard
Plump cheeks,
Surging breasts,
Massive buttocks
Fleshy thighs.
It is epic beauty.
Firm cheeks,
Standing breasts,
Bonny buttocks,
Slender thighs,
It is modern beauty.
Beauty reforms according to fashion.
26.04.2002, pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ocean
He who stands by me
Through the stormy weather
Through good times and bad
Always there for me
Takes me to the water
And quenches my thirst
My sweet inspiration
I wanna say
[1] - Your love is an ocean
Wide as the skies
A comfort to me
Time after time
Your precious love
Fills up my cup
Touches my soul
He who knows me better
Than no man on earth
Guides me to the mountain
Witness my rebirth
Makes me feel so worthy
To belong to him
I treasure my commitment
And it's because of...
[Repeat 1]
When I think of your love
A ray of hope shines through
And shatters the darkness I felt
Erase all the doubt
And the fears that chains
And guides me to your Heavenly place
Ooh
I know you'll always be there
Through thick and thin
I know I can depend on you
Through thick and thin
You comfort me with loving arms
Through thick and thin
Kiss my eyes
My eyes
Ooh
song performed by by 3lw from 3lw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Would You Follow Me
(john kongos)
Would you follow me if I search for another life
Would you walk with me through the dark and the hungry times
If I said, Im gonna leave today
What would you do
Would you pack some things and come away too
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
Even though my dreams seem too far away today
Take a chance and
Stand by my side and
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
If I said Im goin away to join some revolution
Could you ever give up what they call the good life
Would you care to know what Im lookin for
And if I find it
Would you take note of the time, would you mind it
Lose or win, thick or thin
Where would you like to be
Lose or win, thick or thin
Would you follow me
Would you follow me
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tz'u No. 3
To the tune "Red Lips"
Tired of swinging
indolent
I rise with a slender hand
put right
my hair
the dew thick
on frail blossoms
sweat seeping through
my thin robe
and seeing
my friend come
stockings torn
gold hairpins askew
I walk over
blushing
lean against the door
turn my head
grasp the dark green plums
and smell them.
poem by Li Ching Chao
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How the sexy look?
How to find if a woman is sexy?
See her eyes. They are wide and would spark.
See her lips. They are thick and would glow.
She will have smothering dark hair.
Tropical women are sexier in general.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The unseen from the seen
Dear, O my dear forever,
I have seen you a portion,
The rest under clouds.
Your face, hair, nape
And limbs from elbows,
And no more, were visible.
The rest beneath the saree
Is safely kept unseen.
It is enough to my faculty.
From the parts I have seen,
I perceive the parts unseen.
I could visualize,
I could surmise,
I could X-ray.
I could fantasize
And I could imagine
What were there in store,
And what shape they were:
The lean breast, the thin arms,
The slender legs and the narrow groin.
I felt about it as if I was drunk.
Yours unseen are frenzy
To me rather than to him
Who is your custodian.
Your contour is just like curves
In a cartoon, speaking volumes.
I owe much to your company.
It keeps me in harmony.
There is no harm to any.
17.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Stayin Power
Our love, baby, feels so right
When youre smilin in the morning light
I aint leavin no way
cause we got stayin power
You and i
Stayin power through thick and thin.
Stayin power
You and i
Stayin power through thick and thin.
Gold and diamonds say youre mine
But true love opens the gates of time
And as we go on our way
We got stayin power
You and i
Stayin power through thick and thin
Stayin power
You and i
Stayin power through thick and thin.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I shall not die for thee
FOR thee, I shall not die,
Woman of high fame and name;
Foolish men thou mayest slay
I and they are not the same.
Why should I expire
For the fire of an eye,
Slender waist or swan-like limb,
Is't for them that I should die?
The round breasts, the fresh skin,
Cheeks crimson, hair so long and rich;
Indeed, indeed, I shall not die,
Please God, not I, for any such.
The golden hair, the forehead thin,
The chaste mien, the gracious ease,
The rounded heel, the languid tone,—
Fools alone find death from these.
Thy sharp wit, thy perfect calm,
Thy thin palm like foam o' the sea;
Thy white neck, thy blue eye,
I shall not die for thee.
Woman, graceful as the swan,
A wise man did nurture me.
Little palm, white neck, bright eye,
I shall not die for ye.
poem by Douglas Hyde
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At a certain bar
There’s a bevy of beautiful faces,
moving slender limbs
and catching music that entrances
while the lot of them dances.
Liquor flows like water
and lights glitter on the glass
in front of me
and the cup of golden hunters,
bubbles over the brim
and my sight is full
of girls with alluring glances.
There’s something lascivious
in every touch of eye on eye
and movement that they make
and firm and shapely breasts
of different sizes quiver along,
with the intoxicating madness
of the music.
poem by Gert Strydom
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For you woman I shall not die
For you woman I shall not die
You woman of notorious name and high fame
Only foolish men with piercing eyes you may slay
But I and they are not the same
Why should I expire
for your eyes' fire
Ha slender waist? So what?
And for your swanlike limbs? I say tat
But I run from your round breast
the fresh skin, the crimson checks
hair like a waterfall, long and rich
Indeed, Indeed I shall hold
through sturdy high walls and wide moat
Please God! Not me for any such
yet the golden hair my eyes enthralled
the forehead thin, the gracious ears
the rounded heel, the languid tone
Oh fools! For fools alone find death from these
Mercy, your sharp wit, your perfect palm
The chaste mien, the white neck,
the brown eyes, your beautiful soul
has my heart as its goal
You graceful woman as a swan
wise man, while still wise, run
Or else plea to guardian God:
Save me or stab me before I succumb
Little palm? A White neck? or a bright eyes?
I shall not die for thee
Oh God let it not be me
copy rights 2010
In The Louvre
Queen Karomana, slim you stand,
In bronze with little flecks of gold—
Queen Karomana.
O royal lady, lift your hand,
Shatter the stone museum cold,
Queen Karomana.
The wide Nile sleeps, the desert stings
With color. Shake your tresses free,
Queen Karomana !
The sleepy lotus shines and swings—
Loose your bound limbs and sail with me
In a smooth shallop to the sea,
Queen Karomana!
Queen Karomana, still so mute,
So delicate, yet cold as snow,
Queen Karomana?
An ice-wind, boldly resolute,
Rippled your thin robe long ago,
And froze you into bronze—I know—
But left your garment's flecks of gold
And the slim grace men loved of old,
Queen Karomana!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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The Fan
Are you seventeen or eighteen?(1)
Let me cherish you by all means.
Thin or thick you display a triangle, and
Large or small I hold you with one hand.
The more it is hot the fresher you will submit,
Not enough love at night, daytime will make it.
Your cheeks are rose pink and give you grace,
Lords and kings love you because of your face.
poem by Ho Xuan Huong
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Callous women folk
Hundreds and hundreds of women
Were on the way, on who you set your eyes.
hundreds and hundreds of men
might set on them their eyes.
Women grow immune to men
and undermine them altogether,
with delight in men’s plethora.
Light attracting swam! Woman is callous.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I owe all to her
I owe, I owe all to my stirring, blushing lady;
To her tacit eyes, to her lips that savour of thirst;
Her palm, whose sweat my hand lowered to wipe;
Her lean arms, that are captive of my lorn eyes;
Her sturdy and slender waist promising me a nest;
Her love borne thought nudging its way to my path.
I heave in my soul when she hides her warmth.
If at all I live, it is for her, by her and due to her.
She is not the cause of my birth but can be for my death.
01.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In sheer beauty my mistress’ eyes exceeds the sun (in answer to William Shakespeare)
In sheer beauty my mistress’ eyes exceeds the sun,
her lips is more pretty than it’s rising,
her breasts are tender and pure, each one
with a pink fragility, rose tipped, quite amazing
and no wires or even wheat or corn is apt to the hue
of her fair hair, or as tender as its strings
and her breath, her odour outshines that of her retinue
and in its freshness reminding me of new awakenings
and some coy innocence is in the blush on her cheeks
when alluring she is passionate and ready for my delight
and almost hungrily, reaches seeks
for my company, my body as a lily of the night:
spreading her petals, unfolding, drawing me into her embrace
in sheer magic, using almost divine grace.
[Reference: Sonnet 130 My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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See deep, not wide
The more I serve the whole
The less I care for the single.
The more I regard the mass
The less I share with the singles.
When I see broad and wide
I miss seeing near and deep.
Who wants wide eyes?
16.03.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Whomever' The WHO May Be
Who me?
I never thought I was the cheese.
Whether cheddared or sharp.
OR flavored filled crisp dipped chips...
Thick or thin and delicious.
I don't know 'who' to thank...
But I've never been into it.
Getting an attention done,
For something I love...
Makes to me no sense.
Even if it is,
Something I have experienced.
Nor have I ever thought of myself as a brick,
Firmly placed...
To be consider as a piece of a cornerstone that fits.
Who me?
I'm not seeking to be perfect.
I've always been 'me'.
I love to tease and play practical jokes.
When people realize there are serious parts of my life lived...
For some reason they become provoked.
And any attention on me that comes with a focus...
I am more surprised than those I know.
I'm the one with eyes wide open...
Thinking I've become victimized by someone playing a joke.
Who me?
I never thought I was the cheese.
Whether cheddared or sharp.
OR flavored filled crisp dipped chips...
Thick or thin and delicious.
I don't know 'who' to thank...
But,
I've never been into what I do with ego to display.
And perhaps that's my best asset.
A quality in me others see.
Only 'who' knows!
'Whomever' the WHO may be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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