Harvest soon
Before wrinkles appear,
Before breasts droop,
And before cheeks sag
Harvest from your figure.
15.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The face is value giver.
To know which breasts are lovely
From the two pairs looking alike,
I must know whose breasts they are.
The breasts owe their value to their face.
31.01.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Pongal and Tamil New Year,2010
To staff, CRRIs and students
May festival of harvest bring
Wealth, prosperity as we sing,
And cleanliness of surroundings,
For Indians and other earthlings!
May festival of harvest bring
More piety, less worldliness,
Regard for animals in farm,
And all who give us happiness.
May festival of harvest bring
More joy to homes, our kith and kin,
As colorful ‘kolams’ adorn
The houses, showing Indianness!
May festival of harvest ring
The bells of labor and of toil,
As sweetened rice begins to boil,
O’erflowing in clay-pots to soil!
Wishing all Indians globally
‘A Happy Pongal,2010! ’
And Tamilians globally,
‘A Happy Tamil New Year,2010! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-1-2010
From, Dean, IRT PMC, Perundurai
poem by John Celes
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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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Because You Let Her Go
remember,
both of you were so young,
she had natural curls in her hair and you really like
playing with them
that summer
you had wavy eyelashes and she loved each wave
like the sea when the august winds came
some storms
coming to your love
some promises broken
like the tower of your sandcastles
that evening by the sea
falling
you were once together, remember
now, the wrinkles of your hands claim a long, lost memory
once so smooth and supple
like the cheeks of a woman
like her breasts, remember, remember.........
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Are our brains wrinkled?
Wrinkles are the measurement,
to show the life's management,
some are very near and deep,
and the rest long and steep.
Wrinkles are the asset,
that get through the experience,
not all those experienced,
never have such twinkles.
The wrinkles which can not be seen,
hidden inside the hard shell,
More the wrinkles formation,
More the knowledge dwell.
Let us see who has more fold.
Einstein or a research assistant,
people with more folds may not know it,
people with lesser folds strive to get it.
Do not let anyone,
to iron out the wrinkles,
with their disillusioned vision.
Let us acquire more in our brains.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks.
quote by Thomas Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Soul
The solitary figure that walks along the beach
at the waters edge with aspiration
floating around their head,
but take a look again
and tell us what you see
within the drooped shoulders.
That seem to hold the burdens of the world,
and the eyes that seem forever
always gazed towards the ground.
The face that never smiles when jokes are abound.
You say you see a solitary figure
a life with nothing, but just an empty soul.
You say that figure remains you of someone
whose name is on the tip of your tongue.
Look again friend deeply this time
for that solitary figure
who holds within an empty soul
is just a reflection of me.
15 May 2010
poem by David Harris
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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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Conceal to reveal
Breasts bare, breasts with bra,
Breasts revealing the cleavage,
Breasts under blouse with bare belly
And breasts with contour visible
Have their appeal up in that order.
The more one is left for imagination
The more the beauty will reveal.
06.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Wrinkles
For Naomi Lazard
Sometimes I can't wait until I look like Nadezhda Mandelstam.
-- Naomi Lazard
My friends are tired.
The ones who are married are tired
of being married.
The ones who are single are tired
of being single.
They look at their wrinkles.
The ones who are single attribute their wrinkles
to being single.
The ones who are married attribute their wrinkles
to being married.
They have very few wrinkles.
Even taken together,
they have very few wrinkles.
But I cannot persuade them
to look at their wrinkles
collectively.
& I cannot persuade them that being married
or being single
has nothing to do with wrinkles.
Each one sees a deep & bitter groove,
a San Andreas fault across her forehead.
"It is only a matter of time
before the earthquake."
They trade the names of plastic surgeons
like recipes.
My friends are tired.
The ones who have children are tired
of having children.
The ones who are childless are tired
of being childless.
They love their wrinkles.
If only their were deeper
they could hide.
Sometimes I think
(but do not dare to tell them)
that when the face is left alone to dig its grave,
the soul is grateful
& rolls in.
poem by Erica Jong
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Wrinkles and Grey Hair (Children)
Mommy's getting wrinkles.
Daddy has grey hair.
It wasn't very long ago
when those things weren't there.
Wish I could smooth the wrinkles out
and darken Daddy's hair
to stop the changes going on.
It makes me feel so scared.
Grampa, does it mean they'll die?
They have wrinkles and grey hair!
I never used to worry
before those things were there.
Grampa said to look at him.
There were lots of wrinkles there,
and on his head, a snowstorm
was the color of his hair.
'Wrinkles only come to point
where smiles were, here and there.
It's your mommy's turn to get some
for the happy times you've shared.'
His white, and Daddy's grey hair
well, it was there to show
who had lived the longest time
so everyone could know!
Grampa said it's part of life.
We love, we learn, we live.
We earn grey hair and wrinkles,
they're prizes only God can give.
Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla
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Reflection
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why do I look in you, at all,
For all I see is the same old me,
And not how I so want to be.
Mirror, mirror on the stairs,
Why do you show me many years,
A face with wrinkles everywhere,
Would anybody like my share.
Mirror, mirror near my bed,
In you I look with certain dread,
For creams and potions just don't work,
Behind them still the wrinkles lurk.
Mirror, mirror in the hall,
Seeing you makes me recall,
That I am now of senior age,
Well stuck into the wrinkles stage.
Mirror, mirror by the door,
How I hate you more and more,
I'm having to look the other way,
When my reflection's on display.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Age wrinkles the body. Quitting wrinkles the soul.
quote by Douglas MacArthur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - Harvest Moonn
harvest moon -
the field flying
with broken stalks
harvest moon -
no more loud sighs
from the windy fields
harvest moon
thanksgiving incense
trails over fields
harvest moon
the garden echoes with plan
for the next season
inspired by
harvest moon-
some are stretched out
some praying
-Issa,1821
http: //cat.xula.edu/issa/
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Nowhere To Run
I had wanted to say scathing words
about ideology germane to female
genital mutilation; I could not see
justification pertains for an act only
inimitable as barbarous. In diffuse
debate I learned how little I knew.
If preservation of innocence is taken
to extremes there are ways I couldn’t
dream to perpetuate that blissful
state; clitoridectomy is just one which
screams the loudest distaste to my
hormonally challenged ears.
I did the reading, looked up diagrams
saw pictures of unsightly scarring too
horrendous to accept as imperatives
of racially deemed social distinction.
Innocence isn’t preserved by cutting
pre-pubescents’ non-consenting flesh.
I rested my case. Then in an easy
afternoon I learned of circumcision and
a host of procedures utilised to raise
breasts and reduce wrinkles including
genital modification not too dissimilar.
And there was nowhere to run...
© 6 February 2010, I. D. Carswell
poem by Ivan Donn Carswell
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First Encounter - RabindranathTagore's paintings
Tagore's Last Harvest
a child putting wings
to his imagination
Tagore's Last Harvest
behind the colours and lines
a child
Tagore's Last Harvest
the nobel laureate dances
with ink and pen
Tagore's Last Harvest
the colourful images
of a colourful life
Last Harvest an exhibition of 49 of Tagore's paintings
are exhibited in Kuala Lumpur Visual Arts Museum for three months
April to July.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Modesty counts
Breasts when hidden add value to the cleavage.
Breasts when hidden make the loins seductive.
Breasts when hidden add poise to the face
Breasts must be hidden to make men erotic.
25.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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