The biological design
In a long run,
A pair of men or of women
Cannot be amicable,
And a pair of man and woman
Cannot be inimical.
It is the biological design.
09.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Pair Of Eyes
A pair of eyes constitutes the mass of art,
A pair of eyes, tells the throb of heart.
A pair of eyes, is a cool forest pond.
A pair of eyes, is sorcerer's wand.
A pair of eyes, mirrors the soul and mind.
A pair of eyes, thru which man we find.
A pair of eyes, sees all our deeds,
God's eyes are those, one's conscience needs.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Add me to pair.
There are you, only you,
who for I long. Tell me,
what is with me wrong?
I love you, only you,
which is not a crush.
Nor a truce, but real.
Can’t you grant my wish?
Maybe one,
someone, is in your way.
In a better way I can sway.
Heed can you pay?
Sweet and sour, one likes.
Moon and stars, one likes.
Kids and kitten, one likes.
If not sweet, be I a soar;
If not a moon, be I a star,
If not a kid, be I a kitten,
To you, dear.
Take me too, with you,
along with them.
Then I am not wrecked.
A pair of eyes,
A pair of limbs
And a pair of breasts,
all in pair you have.
Take me, to pair with the other.
I can’t retreat. Upbeat is
my heart, that will repeat,
will not subside, or recede.
Don’t put me aside.
There are you.
Only you who for I live.
Show me, please,
show me that
you lull me to trance.
17.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A pair of Sparrows on my lovely Lemon Tree
Those were the days
So joyous and carefree
When I could watch the preening of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Summer days were so short, winters were so long
And for endless hours one could go on a kite flying spree
When I could watch, hopping here and there
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
Enjoying tender sunshine in winter is a past
And chapattis from an earthen hearth a history
When I could watch, assembling of a nest by
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
What seemed to be mundane at that time
Life in my backyard so ordinary
Bliss it is in hindsight, chirping of
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree
I still sometimes motivate myself
To get off the treadmill and shake the shackles free
But can’t anymore find in my back yard
That pair of sparrows and that lovely lemon tree
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree..
A pair of sparrows on my lovely lemon tree.......
30 July 09
poem by Ravi Singh
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A Man Young And Old: IX. The Secrets Of The Old
I have old women's secrets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.
Though Margery is stricken dumb
If thrown in Madge's way,
We three make up a solitude;
For none alive to-day
Can know the stories that we know
Or say the things we say:
How such a man pleased women most
Of all that are gone,
How such a pair loved many years
And such a pair but one,
Stories of the bed of straw
Or the bed of down.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Loving like a Pair of Running Shoes
Being in love is like a pair of running shoes.
When they're new,
they win you over, your
excited to use
them an showem off
Two years go by
And it's time for a new
pair of running shoes.
You may or
May not
Get the same, pair
You pray of an upgrade
Being in love
is like a pair
of running shoes.
poem by Kayla Michele
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If I Were
if i were a pair of gloves
i know you want to become a pair of hands
if i were a pair of shoes
i know you want to be a set of bare feet.
that indeed is romantic
something that fits like a dado to a joint
like thread to the eye of the needle
even though
nothing is challenging enough
like a round peg to a round hole
but baby these fittings are more of fantasies
there are more truths and realities
those that don't fit
and yet still exist together
like us.
i love you and you love me too.
against all odds.
and evens.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Being two is not a hindrance
You and I are two, made by love as twins,
But not as one that every lover claims.
If we are two, as someone ridicule,
Let we be so as one’s legs too are two.
Legs are two, a pair, and not separate,
But joined at base for a common purpose.
We aren’t two but a pair for a cause,
Joined by a knot like the wedding rings.
By two, legs are stable for the body.
Lovers be two to balance their affairs.
Let us remain two; let the souls walk out.
And join to keep us a pair of love.
As long as two souls are one by a knot,
Being two is not a hindrance for love.
29.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Treads too can form the road.
A pair of words in pair can catch you
By its sound in rhymes.
A pair of words grow rhymed
By its repetition by tongue.
People tread on the laid road
And the road is laid by people’s treads.
25.01.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Women for the Men
To clasp a silken-textured breast
Is nothing but a daily quest
Of preternatural drive.
We wonder of the fulsome fare
Her bra undone might bring to bear -
Disclosing all so we may stare
For hours on end upon the pair of
Why-do-woman's-curves-ensnare-
the-brains- of-men? -
A bleak affair,
And why we still survive!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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To a Pair of Blucher Boots
OLD acquaintance unforgotten,
Though you may be “ugly brutes”—
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots.
’Tis the richer man before you,
Dearer leathers grace his feet;
’Twas the better man that wore you
In the tramps through dust and heat!
Oft rebuffed by “super’s” snarling,
When I asked him for a “show”,
On that long tramp to the Darling
In the days of long ago;
Tell me, if you know it, whether,
As I sadly tramped away,
Bore I heavy on your leather,
Worn-out pair of Bluchers, say?
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Though you may be ugly brutes,
I’ll preserve you unforgotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Symbol Moon-1
This day Chithragupta's ledger is approvable
Our sins and virtues are now accountable
Providential check-in is going on accomplishable
There, she's the proof proven amicable
Revealed Heaven's allowing the good adoptable
Opened Hell's scoring sins punishable
Atoning austerities on Earth cherishable
There, she's the proof proven amicable
Aesthetic her fulgency shining noticeable
Can never be hidden erratic Chithragupta actionable
And Chithragupta is but our karmic shade amendable
There, she's the proof proven amicable
Amicable with ascending Chithra twinkling
Amicable with freshened Chithirai newly seasoning
Amicable with Chithragupta recording
She's Chithra Pournami, testimony of our doing
poem by Indira Renganathan
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One Pair of Eyes
One sock found...
Still requires a pair of shoes to wear,
For those with two feet!
But one pair of eyes is no guarantee,
A pebble can not cause one to stumble
On a path taken under a bright and clear sky!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Biological engineering is not necessarily understanding systems but rather, I want to be able to design and build biological systems to perform particular applications.
On the Friendship Betwixt Two Ladies
Tell me, lovely, loving pair!
Why so kind, and so severe?
Why so careless of our care,
Only to yourselves so dear?
By this cunning change of hearts,
You the power of love control;
While the boy's eluded darts
Can arrive at neither soul.
For in vain to either breast
Still beguiled love does come,
Where he finds a foreign guest,
Neither of your hearts at home.
Debtors thus with like design,
When they never mean to pay,
That they may the law decline,
To some friend make all away.
Not the silver doves that fly,
Yoked in Cytherea's car;
Not the wings that lift so high,
And convey her son so far;
Are so lovely, sweet, and fair,
Or do more ennoble love;
Are so choicely matched a pair,
Or with more consent do move.
poem by Edmund Waller
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Lonliness
I have a pair of eyes
but cannot see you everyday.
I have a pair of ears
but cannot hear your voice all the time.
But I have only one heart
that cares for you all the time.
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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A Pair Of Brown Eyes
One summer evening drunk to hell
I stood there nearly lifeless
An old man in the corner sang
Where the water lilies grow
And on the jukebox johnny sang
About a thing called love
And its how are you kid and whats your name
And how would you bloody know?
In blood and death neath a screaming sky
I lay down on the ground
And the arms and legs of other men
Were scattered all around
Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed
Then prayed and bled some more
And the only thing that I could see
Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me
But when we got back, labeled parts one to three
There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me
And a rovin a rovin a rovin Ill go
For a pair of brown eyes
I looked at him he looked at me
All I could do was hate him
While ray and philomena sang
Of my elusive dream
I saw the streams, the rolling hills
Where his brown eyes were waiting
And I thought about a pair of brown eyes
That waited once for me
So drunk to hell I left the place
Sometimes crawling sometimes walking
A hungry sound came across the breeze
So I gave the walls a talking
And I heard the sounds of long ago
From the old canal
And the birds were whistling in the trees
Where the wind was gently laughing
And a rovin a rovin a rovin Ill go
For a pair of brown eyes
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shoes
when you're young
a pair of
female
high-heeled shoes
just sitting
alone
in the closet
can fire your
bones;
when you're old
it's just
a pair of shoes
without
anybody
in them
and
just as
well.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Changes in attitudes
If no man wants women to wear jewels
Which woman would mind wearing them?
If no man minds women being virgin
Which woman would care being virgin?
As man expects, woman changes herself.
As woman changes, man adjudges himself.
16.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The yoked bullocks
In marital relationships,
Temptations compromise with availabilities,
Love compromises with commitments,
And looks compromise with behaviors,
Leaving the pair as a pair of yoked bullocks.
20.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man And Woman: A History
1
a man is frothing history
a woman is the coalescing undying past;
and together rolling as the beast with two backs
from murky undefined time
they roll further into the cloudy distance
each brings in memories
and traditions and nuances
and each comes with a constitution;
each comes conditioned
each manufactured in the same factory, and both struggle
and there is just whingeing all their lives
a man is labeled
a woman is branded
and they are manufactured in sperm factories
and completed in wombs
and both men and women are pushed into cold space
each draw on opinions
and hand-me-down scripts;
the man driven by dreams
the woman too;
and woman shaped by customs and passion
and the man too;
both damned in mortality
and no better in eternity
the woman needs to replicate
the man to mate and duplicate;
the woman needs to embrace with iron grip
and the man needs to bite, hurt and penetrate
2
there is the man and woman
and a geisha, or a lover
comes in between
3
a woman is history
a man is the past;
and together so rolling in from time
they roll further into the distance
a man is desire
and a woman is instinct
and together coming in from thoughts
they roll down like Jack and Jill
and there is just no end to their decline
each struggles with ambitions
and needs and expectations
the man desires, the woman wants
and both hide each other’s lies in the darkness of life
a woman’s mind is passed on
and the man’s ideas inherited;
and both wake to bitterness
and each dies in loneliness
and nature sees this struggle
and Nature laughs; Nature says:
I send you with blood and organs
and I send you with tools to procreate –
now, mate and multiply;
and nurture the new and becoming old, just die -
for I have no more use for you…
man and woman
hear nature’s laugh
and invent lies;
they engender poets
who deliver sweet untruths:
love; immortality;
and immortal love…
and perhaps the time will come
when this history will have to be re-written
for with glass and genetic architecture
man may not need woman but to touch
woman may not need man but to hug
and infertile men will copulate with infertile women
and babies will blossom in ordered vases
and some androgynous blogger then will write:
man and woman: a useless pair
meanwhile
men and women are a driven pair;
and to console themselves
to keep their worth, dignity and sanity
they think they are independent
and endowed with autonomy
poem by Raj Arumugam
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