Protective sex
Once sex was sin
And now it’s fun.
A sense of adventure,
A drive of curiosity,
A feeling of worthiness
An abode of erotica.
Parents grow content,
And advise their children,
‘Have protective sex’
10.07.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give a boost to lust
Passion for sex will die a natural death,
Thanks to the monogamous monotony.
Fresh flesh and the revived curiosity
Prod man and woman, the middle aged,
For one night stand adventure, guiltless.
For man, a reward of his worthiness.
For woman, a reaffirmation of her assets.
Back to rails, their wheels get a boost.
18.07.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About the erotica
Erotica is an art,
And not pornography,
Be it an image or writing.
Erotica has some cues
From where one imagine
And get sexually tuned.
Erotica is not vulgar
In its revelation of parts.
In erotica the mind also
Engages with the body.
You get love and then sex.
Only sex is pornography.
15.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Erotica
i was prude enough
to deserve their hate
when i avoided you
erotica
my hands are bound
to the old religion
contrasting commands
between the voice of
my thighs
the contractions of my
scrotum
and the call of love
the freedom of
erotica
in the forest where the
trees tower
reaching for the skirts
of the clouds
erotica
you are so beautiful
red grapes are your
lips with dew
on a very cold morning
i shed off my skin
thrown my clothes
i feel the air all over
my body
erotica
you come to me
for i am bound by the
chains of wrong beliefs
about my fire
i am burning now
erotica
be my fire
burn me more
like molten magma
i am an eruption
right in the your beautiful
face
erotica.
i am man.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home
When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.
poem by David E. Patton
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Children rarely want to know who their parents were before they were parents, and when age finally stirs their curiosity, there is no parent left to tell them.
quote by Russell Baker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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Beware! Grown Up Children!
Children need parental love,
Children utilise parental services,
Children get life with parental guidance,
Children want parental money and property;
As children grow and earn on their own,
Parents get older and senior in their turn,
Parents getting older and lose their memory,
asks many doubts and queries everyday;
Grown up children are not patient
nowadays for every parental query,
They care for their own children only
and blow up their parents to old-age homes!
The history will repeat,
Beware! Grown up children! !
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children's role after you:
Birthday: parents to children;
Death anniversary: children to parents;
Marriage: parents for children;
Funeral: children for parents;
Others for these have no right;
Others for these are unfit.
Parents must have these in mind
When they write the will.
15.04.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes
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Let the children be busy, when their parents play! !
When I hear the noise of children,
a few floors down the residence,
people say that their parents,
are busy in their one room abode.
When I hear the screams of children,
in the mornings of every Fridays,
people say that their parents,
are busy in making another one.
When I walk on the dusty roads,
I see the shirtless children,
playing merrily with flower eyes,
no dews, no dews, only sparkles.
Let the children play! !
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I See This Negligence In Children's Eyes
'Where is 'my' beginning? '
I see this negligence in children's eyes.
I see their intelligent minds ignored,
By unfocused parents...
Who believe raising their children,
Is a chore assigned.
And not blessed by The Divine,
By design and...
Who art in heaven.
'Where is 'my' beginning?
To receive the attention I am not getting.'
And I don't wonder why,
When these children grow denied...
They despise their parents!
Or 'whoever' raises this sense of hate,
Created within their minds to find and ignite.
As if to spite their births.
When I recognize what is in those eyes,
From my own experience I use to choose to deny...
I deliberately make eye contact with these children,
Who 'know'...
When someone else perceives their feelings,
And this shows.
To leave them with a quick smile.
And that attention given!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To keep the bond
Parents spend on children,
And children, on parents later.
These are not debts.
Parents scold children,
And children, parents later.
These are not scars.
Roots and shoots together
Have thetr Profit and Loss Account.
23.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Greatest Joy On Earth Is Children
The greatest joy on earth is our children;
To see them born healthy and grow up well;
To see them acquire God's precious ken,
That guides them to Heaven, avoiding hell.
What joy it is to see them walk on fours!
And learn to move, to utter sounds with sense;
What joy it is to hear their mental stores!
To see them worldly-wise, avoid non-sense.
What, joy to see the child, Father of man!
What joy to see them outdo their parents!
What joy when things we cannot do, they can!
What joy to see their God-given talents?
Our children are the apples of our eyes;
The Almighty God, we see, in their guise.
poem by John Celes
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Children whose curiosity survives parental discipline and who manage to grow up before they blow up are invited to join the Yale faculty. Within the university they go on asking their questions and trying to find the answers ... it is a place where the world's hostility to curiosity can be defied.
quote by Edmund S. Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is your fate
Children might turn ungrateful
And parents are orphaned.
By having no children, can
We alter the status? No.
31.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Don't Last Forever
They give you a life they look after you,
To them you're their reason for living,
Whatever happens if troubles ensue,
They'll be caring and always forgiving.
Do they own you or is it the other way round,
In fact neither statement is true,
Parent child relationships were made to astound,
You love them and they'll always love you.
They will want you to achieve so much more,
Regardless you will fill them with pride,
With you they will have a unique rapport,
Their devotion will never subside.
They'll try to teach you about good and bad,
To ensure you avoid all their mistakes,
They'll forever be there be it happy or sad,
A good parent just never forsakes.
Yes there'll be times they will get annoyed,
You will bring them to total despair,
Any troubles you have they will never avoid,
For you they will always be there.
You may well think they just interfere,
Their aim is to cause you great strife,
As you grow older it will become clear,
They just want you to have a good life.
They'll try to put up with your mood swings,
Watch over you each day as you grow,
The good times and problems another year brings,
Their love you will feel and will know.
Embarrassing you is a parents right,
There'll be times they will drive you wild,
Regardless of that they will never lose sight,
That to them you will always be their child.
You will do things that will surprise,
Good parents like nothing more,
What you can achieve will open their eyes,
That's why it's you they adore.
If you only strive to do your best,
Without the need for discord,
If with common sense you are blessed,
That will be your parents reward.
When you have children yourself one day
That is when you will learn,
The sacrifice your parents had to pay,
Mutual respect is a gift both must earn.
Your Mum and Dad are messengers from God,
Look after them while they're here,
What they do for us we should all applaud,
Their actions we must truly revere.
Your parents will give you love and care,
That special bond you must never sever,
God's trials of life can be so unfair,
For the pity is,
‘' They Don't Last Forever ''
Parents, however old they and we may grow to be, serve among other things to shield us from a sense of our doom. As long as they are around, we can avoid the fact of our mortality; we can still be innocent children.
quote by Jane Howard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No leisure
I have to attend my parents.
I shall toil for my children.
I have to do my duties.
I shall go out with my children.
Every ‘have to’ put pressure
Every ‘shall’ bring pleasure.
Both give you no leisure.
24.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The sound of Sunday is not holy
Mauro Giuliani’s guitar
Is played
Sonata erotica
I hear it
As I bow down
My head
My right hand
And all five fingers
Supporting
Like five pillars
To this temple
Of an unwashed
Face
Attentive to giuliani’s
Sonata erotica
On a Sunday
I face a road
Sliced by sounds
Of motorcycles
Without any
Silencers
Sonata erotica
Flamenco guitar
Entering my ears
Resting on my head
My guests this
Sunday noon
Flamenco notes
Dancing
With dainty feet
Stamping on
My brain
Erotica on Sundays
Flamenco dancers
In pink
My eyes follow
The hands
And the hips
And the feet
To this surging
Dainty Desires
In a sense
Sleep is a stranger
Whose name
I have yet to
spell.
the face of prayer
is a little bit
sketchy
its eyes
closed
its nose
blocked
by so much
phlegm
i breathe
something
erroneous
to my heart
my sister
the religious
&
the piety
as usual
is angry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Men of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full period, but content themselves with a mediocrity of success.
quote by Dale Carnegie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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