Shift of sex
Flowers are, in general, endowed with
Scent and nectar to woo bees and flies
For the ultimate goal of impregnation.
Then why do the Jasmine and the Rose,
Known for scent and nectar, fail,
In their courtship, to get impregnated?
Do they copy men and women,
Who want only sex and not its fruit?
18.11.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be inner rich
O flowers! You can have colourful petals.
More than that must there be enough nectar.
Moths come to you expecting in you nectar.
Otherwise they stay with you no longer.
Women! Enrich your heart.
01.10.2000, Madras
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Polygamy
A flower wants to get crushed,
Sucked of its nectar and gets impregnated;
Who the prince is, does not matter.
A beetle darts flower to flower,
Time to time, tasting different kinds,
With lust to explore the flowers.
Polygamy, not polyandry, is the need.
Monogamy demands women prostitutes.
10.09.2000, Pkmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Frangipani! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Leaves like half burnt toast,
Hang from the shrivelled branches
Of Frangipani.
Come monsoon showers;
It comes to life and flowers,
Savours in delight…
Seduced by sweet scent
Moths drawn by the fragrance, flock
At night for nectar.
Do they have a clue?
It’s fruitless search for nectar;
Trick up nature's sleeve,
To help pollinate
As moths flit over flowers;
Play designated role…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Air
Like fresh blossoming flowers on a spring day.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the smell of rain right before it pours down.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the aroma of a hot apple pie cooling on the window seal.
Her scent is in air.
I try to cover my nose with my shirt
but her scent seeps right through it.
It is in the air.
I try fanning it away
but the more I fan the stronger her scent lofts in the air.
I decide not to fight it anymore and I inhale her scent.
It first suffocates me but then it sustains me.
To me her scent is love and it is
In the air.
A Rose Intoxication!
Queen of flowers rose is always a fascination!
Rose is symbol of passionate love cheers mood!
Rose lady gives great pride to be with anywhere!
Special respect to rose never changes anywhere;
Red rose, pink rose and even blue rose are there
Occupying a pride of place none can have ever!
Bouquet of rose flowers elates anyone to dizziness!
A special gift indeed rose flowers makes to all!
A single rose is enough to make one grand to look
Instead of a big cluster of flowers of jasmine or lily!
Scent of rose remains fresh in mind wherever one is;
Such a unique flower rose how can anyone ignore
Whether it is in the garden or lies on a wayward side!
Now after seeing rose and read on rose I am intoxicated..!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Life is nectar
Beginning is poison
End is nectar
No no
Beginning is nectar
Middle is nectar
End is also nectar
Whole things
Whole activities
Is only nectar
Enjoy the life
Life is not bitter
Life is nectar.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Love is selfish
Women love flowers; Flowers invite bees;
Bees run for honey. Where’s love mutual?
Each one runs to pursue its own goal.
I love you to my pleasure, not yours.
09.01.2000, Palakkad.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mission of both sex
The mission of a woman
In her passion for sex
Terminates with mere courtship
Like jasmine flowers sans seeding.
Only adjunct is the courtship
To a man, whose mission
Is longing, with a woman, for fusion,
Like a fruit bearing tree.
Love episodes end with flowers.
Woman is fed; man starved.
26.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I will love myself first
I am a flower
With a set of eight long petals
Shaped a bit long oval
Coloured sky-blue at the bottom
Turning bright-yellow at the top
And with long pollen sticks
White-headed peeping well out
I am an attraction to
Butterflies which keep probing
Me for the sweet nectar
I too attract insects
Very small in size
And which enjoy sliding into me
Along the slope of my petal
I hold for you a mild scent
That resembles the smell of jasmine
But because of the high ethanol content
In my fragrance
I smell with a fruitish tinge
While jasmine has a season to blossom
I am in blossom all through
Either it is winter, summer or raining
Lovers prefer me to rose
As I am big by look and thorn-less
Some devotees come to my bush
Every day and pluck me
And offer to Krishna
The God of the town
I appear much less in numbers
Compared to jasmine
But keep many garden corners
Smelling sweet with my
Special fragrance
I thought I am fine
And everyone else is also
Fine with me
Till that evening
Someone telling his lover
Not to pluck me
As he does not like the way I look
Next day morning
A mother was instructing
Her three year old son
Not to go near me
As my smell is allergic to him
It took just a day
For me to realize
There are so many others
Who have reasons for disliking me
Any way I cannot do anything
To change my looks
Or to change my scent
So determined was i
I will keep my colour
Looks and fragrance in tact
Whether people like it or otherwise
I will keep my glow
Whether insects get attracted or not
I am a creation of nature
I will enjoy being what I am
With all that nature has gifted me
And I will love myself first
Without bothering much
To know whether
Any one else loves me or not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Finally The Bee Takes The Nectar Upon Itself
in the end he gives up his identify as the
working bee buzzing in the garden
of his own choosing
circling the flowers that newly bloom
hovering and sitting on them
with his mouth and sting
and sucking all the nectars therein
he takes upon itself
what is prohibited
the caste system
and the queen
today it sets itself free from the rule
and flies freely in the air
the nectar is his
because he works for it
and justifiably so
another kingdom is born
his nectar democracy
his freedom
his own destruction
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: A Poet’s Dream
I dreamt I turn’d into a rose flower,
That’d fully blossomed, looking so lovely!
Because I wished to be a bee-lover,
One morn as dawn came on very stealth’ly.
I was a rose, red-petaled and much pretty,
Emitting fragrance really very sweet!
My lover-bee buzz’d on to me happily,
Hovering around, with his rhythmic wing-beat.
“Good morning sweetheart! ” it said and kissed me.
“I’ve flown for miles, seeking your divine face, ”
“O spare me some nectar for I’m thirsty,
And some more nectar for my kids, in case.”
“O bee-lover! All my nectar’s for thee;
Only promise to always visit me! ”
poem by John Celes
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Sulking Flowers
Comparing the bees to the wandering males of human species,
Disheartening the waiting souls at the threshold of floral genesis,
For the pollen these bees brought unknowingly,
The generous flowers tip the nectar unconditionally.
Bees are the messengers, not the rapists as human,
Bees are the servants, not the incest driven as human,
Bees are the courier carriers, not the molesters as human,
Bees are innocent, not the illusionists scoundrels as human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Learning from the honey bee
Look at the bees
And learn something
They yearn for others
as busy bees
Together in swarms they fly along
To find gardens together they throng
From flower to flower
From nectar to nectar
Serving their queen bee with compassion
Caring for their young ones in devotion
They toil and toil
From flower to seed
To gather honey honey so sweet
Just to serve just to yearn
A tiny insect makes us learn
Its God Command to serve and earn
Give good to others
And get so in return
Be like the bees to find the truth
Of being happy and to find God's love
Be like a bee and be like the bees
Being for others and nothing above
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nectar turns honey
Nectar in the flower turns honey
Through the mouth of bees.
Truth is like nectar.
We get it as honey from the mouth [of people]
12.04.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honeysuckle
Mouth-watering Honeysuckle!
Your irresistible scent lures
Me to your tubular flowers
As you do the lone hummingbird
And moth and for the same reward:
To taste your abundant nectar.
Thousands of your golden flowers
Have quenched my springtime craving
For your flowery sweet liquid
Hidden deep within your dark spathe.
Once more I slowly extract your
Center stamen out through your scape
Dragging behind your small pistil
And the bead for my waiting tongue.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Not For Attar
How hard is your heart
To squeeze the Rose
That smiles amidst thorns all around
And call its essence a scent
Wear the flower on your hair
Present the rose to your beloved as Valentine gift
Have mercy on this gentle and sweet flower
Don't smear its blood as scent
And Ladies and Gentlemen, for your kind information
Rose is not made for Attar
Rose is not just a flower
Rose is QUEEN of all flowers
Appreciate her fragrance and elegance
Do not squeeze for essence
And always adore Her Excellence with reverence
poem by Kavin Charalan
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Beauty is for women
Flowers dress themselves in different colours
To attract bees, who are not colourful.
Flowers mind visits of bees, not their colour.
Hence women dress to get spotted.
20.09.2000, Vijayavada
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Rose Grows In The Night
A rose grows in the night
Lit beneath the diamond lights
Petals smooth in silken magic
Blossom crimson shaded fabric
I touch the stem and thorns
Disappear from their tragic court
Scent regales the pollens nectar
That sings in childhood's laughter
Where smiles are like roses
That grow inside the night
poem by Kevin Patrick
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My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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The Scent Of Another Men
The scent of another men
Revenge
The scent of another men
Money and more money
The scent of another men
Money is his God
The scent of another men
No friends but enemies
The scent of another men
More misery than ever
poem by Aldo Kraas
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