Man cannot be chaste.
One bull can manage ten cows.
One cow cannot stand ten bulls.
A woman is at ease to be chaste.
To be so is man’s distaste
29.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Solo sex is man’s fantasy
Which part of a woman is not sexy
For a man who is manly crazy?
To him, her clothes and ornaments too.
His touch of her is not a must.
Her image in his brain will do.
A god send gift to human’s concept.
He indulges in sex with every woman,
Without a rape, without a consent,
Keeping them inside his head
And deriving pleasure from his fantasy.
29.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Familiarity brings liking
A cock loved with his commune hens.
Into yard, he started loving other hens.
Into jungle, other fowls too are appealing.
Once used to, you love any breed of woman.
30.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Merciless men
No bulls! All bullocks!
All castrated, libido arrested,
They toil for their men-folks.
All cows! Only to yield calves,
With no bulls to mate them,
Or to beat cows’ heat.
Just to milk for the folks!
Bulls no more masculine
To fall in love with cow;
Cows, though fully feminine,
Excite no male to copulate.
Cows are delivered of their calves,
Having never gone to sex,
By seminal injections.
Bullocks are stripped of peak of sex..
Creations go without lovemaking.
Men and women of all walks,
From sixteen to sixty or more,
Learn to groom their passion,
With hormones and fashion,
To entertain their orgasm,
By nature way or manipulation,
As often as they desired,
In multitudes and with multitudes,
Whether for a child or not,
More often for no procreation.
Devices are found against confinement
And for a high erotic enjoyment.
Lovemaking goes without creation.
Animals are killed of sexual joy
To multiple the race.
Men-folks are filled of erotic joy
To limit the race.
05.02.99, Dindukal
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Parable
a frog, always the frog
has always been a frog
servant to the fog, but
one frog one day decides
to be a bull to the dismay
of the frogs in that little pond
to the ridicule of the bulls
nearby but the frog learns
to be a bull and bully has
he become until one day
he gains the respect of the
other bulls to the pleasure
of the sun to the disdain
of the fog on the hills
nothing is impossible
to the power of the mind
this the frog follows
through and through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Man! Race with woman
Now Cinema is more on glitter and gloss
and little on frailties and foibles.
Now woman is more on glamour and ease
and little on fidelities and commitment.
Men must be more on leniency and laxity
and little on watch-dogging and possessiveness.
Marriage will be redundant and out dated soon
A father will be dispensable as a bull to a cow;
men will be more in agony and less in harmony.16.12.2001, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lyric four bulls
Woman walked in forest alone
Met man
Man aroused appetite for her
Man ran and knocked his head on tree
Tail grew out
Hairy jaw grew in mouth
Hind legs grew
Man metamorphosed because was
Lion cannibal
Tried to attack man
Woman asked cannibal
‘’where’re your four
red and white bulls’’
‘’Do you know them’’
‘’Yes, you sing their
Oldest lyric’’
Cannibal laughed
In hoarse voice
Sang,
‘’One red and white spotted bull is sold
One red and white bull spotted is stolen
One red and white spotted bull is swallowed
One red and white spotted bull is scattered
On earth, scattered on earth, on earth, on earth……………….., cannibal sang tune of ‘’scattered on earth’’ happily for long and until
He napped and woman disappeared.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Be slow and steady
You look behind you,
You look before you,
You look within you,
While you are on the move.
Maybe speed is slow.
Equally the fall is light.
30.05.2001, Berh.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Farm Scene
They come each morning to the gate,
are milked and wander off to feed;
six cows, a calf and in the lead
a brindled bull, old, fat sedate.
And every evening they are back,
loafing along the quarter-mile
of dusty lane in single file,
the old bull trailing up the track.
I would not load with thought that brings
meanings deep-conjured in the mind
this quiet scene-but here I find
the rhythm of eternal things.
And envy him who takes his pail
jingling to met them at the gate;
sun-up, sun-down, that constant date
which neither he nor they will fail.
I envy him whose life allows
him the cool blessedness; to stand
and simply watch the coming and
later the going of the cows.
poem by Ernest G Moll
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What is true love?
True love is,
When you are called upon
To make a sacrifice.
You must do it feeling no pain.
30.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lust is fire
Be she a metal, coal or oil,
No woman is immune to combustion of lust.
Intensity and duration of flame determine.
Woman is chaste by force.
Lust and fire are consumers.
16.10.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lust is fire.
Be she a metal, coal or oil,
No woman is immune to combustion of lust.
Intensity and duration of flame determine.
Woman is chaste by force.
Lust and fire are consumers.
16.10.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Let the known know me
Let me be known
To them to whom I am known.
To them are my writings.
Being known to unknown
Is the mass publicity,
A short lived one.
I want to flutter
Near my neighbours,
Not to fly so high
For mountain’s birds.
31.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Divorcees
Bulls are stronger than cows;
Cocks are prouder than hens.
Man is taller than woman.
It is the nature’s design.
Woman wants to grow as tall
As man in all respects.
Having grown like that now
She goes out of partner.
Her mind is still feminine,
Which demands a person
Who can hug her, lead her
And be superior to her.
She searches a partner,
Higher than her, in vain
And get one that miss-fires.
She lives as a divorcee.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Train your skills
Be proud, rightly so,
That you are an artisan,
An intellectual or an inventor.
You get respect.
Being rich brings in jealousy.
Being powerful generates enmity.
31.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cain and Abel
Western Version
Cain and Abel were brothers born.
(Koop-la! Come along, cows!)
One raised cattle and one raised corn.
(Koop-la! Come along! Co-hoe!)
And Cain he farmed by the river-side,
So he did not care how much it dried.
For he banked, and he sluiced, and he ditched and he led
(And the Corn don't care for the Horn)--
A-half Euphrates out of her bed
To water his dam' Corn!
But Abel herded out on the plains
Where you have to go by the dams and rains.
It happened, after a three-year drought,
The wells, and the springs, and the dams gave out.
The Herd-bulls came to Cain's new house
(They wanted water so!--)
With the hot red Sun between their brows,
Sayin' "Give us water for our pore cows!"
But Cain he told 'em--"No!"
The Cows they came to Cain's big house
With the cold white Moon between their brows,
Sayin' "Give some water to us pore cows!"
But Cain he told 'em--"No?"
The li'l Calves came to Cain's fine house
With the Evenin' Star between their brows,
Sayin' "'Give us water an' we'll be cows."
But Cain he told 'em--"No!"
The Herd-bulls led 'em back again,
An' Abel went an' said to Cain: --
"Oh sell me water, my brother dear,
Or there will be no beef this year."
And Cain he answered--"No! "
"Then draw your hatches, my brother true,
An' let a little water through."
But Cain he answered: -"No!
"My dams are tight an' my ditches are sound,
An' not a drop goes through or round
Till she's done her duty by the Corn.
"I will not sell, an' I will not draw,
An' if you breach, I'll have the Law,
As sure as you are borne! "
Then Abel took his best bull-goad,
An' holed a dyke on the Eden road.
He opened her up with foot an' hand,
An' let Euphrates loose on the land.
He spilled Euphrates out on the plain,
So's all his cattle could drink again.
Then Cain he saw what Abel done--
But, in those days, there was no Gun!
So he made him a club of a hickory-limb,
An' halted Abel an' said to him: --
"I did not sell an' I did not draw,
An' now you've breached I'll have the Law.
"You ride abroad in your hat and spurs,
Hell-hoofin' over my cucumbers!
"You pray to the Lord to send you luck
An' you loose your steers in my garden-truck:
"An' now you're bust, as you ought to be,
You can keep on prayin' but not to me!"
Then Abel saw it meant the life;
But, in those days, there was no Knife:
So he up with his big bull-goad instead,
But--Cain hit first and dropped him dead!
The Herd-bulls ran when they smelt the blood,
An' horned an' pawed in that Red Mud.
The Calves they bawled, and the Steers they milled,
Because it was the First Man Killed;
An' the whole Herd broke for the Land of Nod,
An' Cain was left to be judged by God!
But, seein' all he had had to bear,
I never could call the Judgment fair!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Bull Fighting
Bullfighting
Early morning on the flatland between Portugal and Seville a cockerel crews,
its hoarse wakeup call carries for miles. Vaqueros are already on the grassland
separating bulls form a herd; the bulls are five years old and have been chosen
for the bullfight. Within a week the selected bulls will be dead, slaughtered on
an arena of sawdust and sand, they have been allowed to roam free for years.
Most animals only live a few years, mostly in a pen, and never see grassland
before they are killed. How can meat eaters demonstrate, call for the abolition
of bullfighting? This sport, the only one, where an animal has a chance to kill its
assassin. I’m on a bus heading for Seville to see bullfighting, yes, I do admire bull
fighting; if lucky I might see one of the chosen bulls kills the toreador.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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It’s the second day that I visit
It’s the second day that I visit
on the farm near Reivelo,
just past Vryburg.
They farm with cattle, goats,
a few sheep, muscovy ducks, turkeys
and chicken.
The scrambler bumps up and down
right through the field
and go past rocks and bushes,
while we drive along the rough field
and the hot wind
cut across my face
and there are places
where it cannot go.
It’s time to transform
young bulls to oxen,
to brand cattle
and to cut their horns
and I get a black stallion
to ride into the field.
My cousin rides in front
with a brown Arabian mare
and there are bushes
and flat slabs of rock
and small hillocks that we past
to try and round up young cattle
to the corral.
It’s nice to be a cattle herder
for a time
and to use legs and heels
and reigns,
to round up cattle in the field.
Every thing goes well until
I chase a young black bull
just to the entrance of the fold,
where it stops stubbornly
and doesn’t want to move
a feet further.
I jump out of the saddle,
fasten the reigns
to a small branch
and rush to the obstinate bull.
It stands and snorting
and stamp its feet
and when it sees me,
it rushes confused
at the horse.
That faithful horse stands firm
while the bulls horns swishes
onto the reigns
and the horse
stops that bull in its tracts,
that a piece of the bridle
breaks right off.
Then I am at the bull
and pull the reigns
out of its horns
and it walks meek
into the corral,
while in astonishment
I stand and look at that animal.
With a knee-strap
and pliers in the nose
we draw the bull to the ground
and when we shear it,
it moans like a heifer
and there’s a burning smell
that goes up from the branding iron
and I see the horns
dropp at my feet
and it’s another beast
when it stand on its feet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Honesty enriches mind
What is honesty?
Get not, hold not,
What is not due.
Cheat not, lie not,
For any profit.
Accept the mistakes.
Regret the failures.
Repent the wrongs.
Repeat not the wrong.
Then you are honest.
Honesty earns acceptance,
That only we crave.
Wealth dispels not loneliness,
30.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Am a Bull
Common cows,
Can be found on common lands.
Where the calmness of common life,
Without the bustle and strife exist.
A bliss capture on film or in portraits.
I am a bull!
Full of adventure.
And I choose to sit or drift.
Where the trees have breezes,
With an ease that teases curiousities...
I feel that briskly flow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eyes replace the skin.
Once, women stripped at night to earn their bread.
Now women strip in light to earn their butter.
Men have shifted their sex from skin to eyes.
Blue films meet what once the brothel stood for.
29.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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