Tallness is the beauty
Knot your hairs up,
Baring the nape,
Use vertical mark
Or tiny dot
On your forehead,
Wear wide neck blouse
With elbow sleeves,
Put on hanging stud
And let the hip and navel
Be shown
So that you look taller.
Tallness is the beauty.
12.03.2002, Karaikudi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let men starve
Having seen a woman in blouse,
I find it more exciting
To see her in sleeveless.
Still more when I see her
In low blouse baring cleavage.
Still more, with navel showing.
The process is on and on
To tempt men and make them starve.
01.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An island beauty
A tiny frame, as high as
Five feet and three inches,
So elegant, so supple,
Weighing thirty-five kilograms,
So youthful, so tender,
At her two and twenty,
Pleasant but not extravagant,
She stunned me at first sight.
Square face, square forehead,
Square jaw, square shoulders,
And square nose on thin frame,
She had changed
The grammar of beauty.
A Mongolian beauty.
Unobtrusive breast and
Un-ejecting buttocks
Added only colour to her
Bravado looks.
Her velvet hairs, plaited, tucked
Above and pinned atop,
Baring the lemon nape,
Is an Ajenta in drawings.
She commanded my respect.
She summoned my reverence.
But for she, called Zeenas,
My three days sea voyage
Might be a waste.
Long live, the poor Maldivian.
25.12.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To be lean is beauty.
The thin long plait over long nape,
The long jaw matching with low chin,
The lean arms in sleeveless blouse,
The cylindrical waist baring navel,
How beautifully you are lank!
No matter you have no breasts to name.
No matter I have seen your face
In a stone through distance only.
The lean are my favorite.
I was born of fatty mother.
18.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Nape Of My Neck
The nape of my neck has prickly hairs,
sensitive to touch.
I'd give anything to stop my urge
to want it so darn much.
Better I scarve it then leave it bare,
better not to feel
anything that can make it sensitive
so my heart will heal.
Remember the touch. Remember the feel.
Remember the hairs on your neck
And then try and release it.
Keep those feelings in check.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Look taller, woman.
Bare your nape. With hair knotted up.
Wear sleeveless and bare loins.
Drape in muslin clothes.
Wear small studs and such sorts.
You would look taller than you are.
You look nicer than you are.
30.05.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Lies About Tall Guys
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys seem to get executive jobs
Shorter guys work mostly as clerks
Taller guys never seem to be slobs
Shorter guys always seem to be jerks
Taller guys seem to get all of the action
Shorter guys seem to be quite invisible
Taller guys always seem to deserve satisfaction
Shorter guys are lonely and miserable
Just seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys just seem born to play sports
Shorter guys kinda seem to like tennis
Taller guys certainly look better in shorts
Shorter guys look like Dennis the Menace
Taller guys are usually at the top of their class
Shorter guys seem to fail quite a lot
Taller guys always seem to kick ass
Shorter guys want to, but simply cannot
sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys get better grades and such
Shorter guys seem to barely scrape by
Taller guys seem to do better, pretty much
Shorter guys always wonder why
Taller guys seem to have eyes like a hawk
Shorter guys seem to wear glasses a lot
Taller guys cover more ground when they walk
Shorter guys, to keep up, have to trot
Sure seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys and their friends look like N.B.A players
Shorter guys look more like cheerleaders
Taller guys seem to look like dragon slayers
Shorter guys look a lot more like bleeders
Taller guys seem to have more gear to protect
Shorter guys wear more protective gear
Taller guys, more confidence seem to project
Shorter guys have less confidence, more fear
Really seems like it’s that way to me
Taller guys appeal to the female gender
Shorter guys always seem to choke
Taller guys carry a lot more legal tender
Shorter guys always seem to be broke
Taller guys seem to drive high dollar cars
Shorter guys drive toyotas
Taller guys seem to reach for the stars
Shorter guys reach for diet sodas
Taller guys are obnoxious, let’s neuter them all
Shorter guys are great people, always a delight
Taller guys are an abomination against mother nature’s law
If you think I’m a short guy….well, you’re right!
Really seems like the way it should be
poem by David Whalen
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Tallness is far fetching beauty.
Your slanting lower jaw
Elongates your oval head.
Your tightly braided hair
Elevates your long nape.
Your sleeveless blouse
Lengthens the length of arm.
Your low hip worn saree
High lights your slimness of waist.
You are still longer.
You are still taller.
Slim and slender as you are
Fair and lovely you appear,
Though you gave me poses
From a hundred yards away.
25.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hair
Wide cheeks? Let the hair hide the ears.
Broad forehead? Let the hair spills in front.
Dwarf neck? Let the hair in knot be up.
Lanky figure? Let the hair falls on shoulders.
Hair being dense is an asset to woman
27.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sex taboo is loosening
You painted your forehead, then eyelids,
Then palms and soles, and then nails and Lips.
Tired of all, with an eye for innovation,
You started exposing your belly
With navel therein painted.
Men are able to browse you wider than
Those who lived before.
What about men to come in future?
31.12.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Without the face, no grace
The dimple in her elbow,
More hollowed by her flesh
Bulging on her upper arms,
The muscles on her hip,
Crippled by tight blouse,
To pinnate down below,
And the sturdy nape,
Under her thick plait of mane
Falling like the trunk of an elephant,
She showed her back
And tormented me to rush
Forward to ogle her face.
Her face was out of grace,
Those parts lost their base.
Without a face, there’s no grace.
21.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Liberation of female sex.
You cannot grow taller than you are.
But you can be leaner than you are.
Dwarf is not the sign of beauty.
Be thin to look taller.
Surging breasts and broad hip are outdated.
Tiny breasts and narrow frame are the order of the day.
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The New Shirt...
she bought me
lies on the table, still folded
and pinned. Palm trees
and a small island parade
across a black background.
The perfect gift for a man
who refuses to wear golf shirts
or one of those boring button down
bargains you find at JCPenny.
I remove the pins, the plastic
strip and the collar becomes
compliant, though not as soft
as her mouth on my neck.
The sleeves, folded across
the chest, reminded me
of the last time I held her
prisoner in my arms.
I count the buttons: seven.
Two more than on that blouse
she wore last night.
I imagine the next time
we are together, know
I won’t let a dozen buttons
come between us.
poem by Clifton King
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The Lizard
there is this friendship
between this lizard
and me,
one day it lands on my nape
and crawls on its cold
tiny feet on my nape
to my head and
stays as my watcher
on my hair
and then i slept so tight
forgetting about
everything sad
and depressing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Curiouser And Curiouser Still
Tremors and chills
On nape of neck
Hairs stand erect
When one’s primal instincts
Sense fear or danger
Why then, pray tell
The response
of similar sensations
When warm palpitations
Of pleasure appear
Strange…contradictory…
Responses …in the body human
Occur.. and encompass
in their most curious qualities…
Become e’en more
curiouser and curiouser
poem by David Whalen
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The wrapper has no use
How fully wrapped you appear!
How wholly draped you are!
However, you are to me naked.
Your pallu round the lean arm
Hides from me your flat belly.
Your pallu thrown over shoulder,
Close to neck gives me a clue
How deep your cleavage beneath is.
Your pallu brought backward
Covers the blouse with bra cut.
Your pallu brought forward over shoulder encloses deep armpit,
And the dimple of elbow.
Your pallu never runs over the head,
Which gives me all the clue
How you will look where you’re hidden.
I can see your long face, long nape,
and long hair and long fingers,
By which I can sense your hidden parts.
However fully you are wrapped,
However wholly you are draped,
You are to me fully naked.
To my passion or to my acumen-
To which should the credit go?
You can shut to my eyes.
You cannot stop my eyes.
11.05.2001, Pmdi [repetition]
[pallu is the end portion of Indian woman saree,
thrown over the chest and a shoulder
to hide the contour of one's breasts]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Repetition
Johnny is a man
And hes bigger than you
But his overheads are high
And he looks straight through when you ask him how the kids are
Hell get home around seven
cause the chevys real old
And he could have had a cadillac
If the school had taught him right
And he could have married anne with the blue silk
Blouse
He could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
And the food is on the table
But the food is cold
Dont hit her
Cant you even cook?
Whats the good of me working when you cant damn cook?
Well johnny is a man
And hes bigger than her
I guess the bruises wont show
If she wears long sleeves
But the space in her eyes shows through
And he could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
He could have married anne with the blue silk blouse
Shows through
Shows through
Shows through
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hindustani dress is the sexiest.
A short blouse, low cut skirt,
belly open beyond navel,
a sash worn across the breast,
the most sexiest dress
a woman can have to excite men.
The belly reminds you of your abode;
The curve of the blouse
reminds you of your earlier sucking.
The frills remind you of the spot
underneath, the exit door.
The hindustani dress is ever invented
To make woman more alluring.
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Headmaster Ritual
Belligerent ghouls
Run manchester schools
Spineless swines
Cemented minds
Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old suit since 1962
He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck
I wanna go home
I dont wanna stay
Give up education
As a bad mistake
Mid-week on the playing fields
Sir thwacks you on the knees
Knees you in the groin
Elbow in the face
Bruises bigger than dinner plates
I wanna go home
I dont wanna stay
Da-da-da ...
Belligerent ghouls
Run manchester schools
Spineless bastards all ...
Sir leads the troops
Jealous of youth
Same old jokes since 1902
He does the military two-step
Down the nape of my neck
I wanna go home
I dont want to stay
Give up life
As a bad mistake
Please excuse me from gym
Ive got this terrible cold coming on
He grabs and devours
He kicks me in the showers
Kicks me in the showers
And he grabs and devours
I want to go home
I dont want to stay...
Da-da-da ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Frankie
My words are taller
Your native canes cannot reach them
So you always say
You misunderstand me
My murmur
You mishear as my sole reason
For waking up from cubic morning
To the edge
Of twilight
Perhaps you miss
The light burning in the middle
Of your forehead
As old woman
You’re taller as I am
Even when I stand and look up
I see the nimbus bursting
In the dark
You never really tried
To be
Like a puppy
When first thrown
Into the sea
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Give me that allowance
Which door will open,
I can know,
Only when I knock on it.
Lest it should happen
That you hadn’t open
Because I didn’t knock,
I had to knock.
Dear, if you are sullen
Shut me out
For my graceful exit.
Betray me not
For disgraceful spit
12.03.2002, Karaikudi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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