What is beauty?
Flatten cheeks, sunken breasts,
Thin plait, muscle-less waist,
Neither modern, nor of fashion in posture,
None of which is distinct for beauty.
With them she stirs me rather than any.
No one is better than she to me.
Coyness, swiftness and smartness
And her formidable clan are her assets.
Uneven lips, crowded little teeth,
Deep seated eyes, manly nose:
Everything to me is voluptuous.
None endeared as she did;
None I endeared as much;
None she had maddened that much;
None she is fonder of than me.
Saturday and Sunday are black days
As we miss the presence of the
Other, and I curse all holidays.
Ethical or not, I am at her feet;
She revived in me my youth
And who herself retained her youth.
06.04.99, Plakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Love has no cause
Crooked lips stand not in the way,
Manly nose is too.
So are cashew apple breasts.
So are manly tone and thin plait.
As shy fruit, you never deterred.
As a forbidden apple you never bored.
Then which is the cause?
To find the cause, I am still in love.
17.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust has no eyes
To my eyes, mind, heart and soul,
Her nose, a masculine one, is tormenting;
Her lips, uneven, are devastating;
Her lock, a thin plait, is over whelming;
Her breasts, just a purse, are hurling;
Her fingers, un-manicured, are gambling;
Her bottom, not a convex, is stirring.
No word, she uttered to please,
Nor any deed conspicuous either.
Calls answered but not one made.
Letters received but not one sent.
Yet so much passion in her is visible.
Yet so much lust from her is discerned.
She is not a beauty, still is opium.
She is not feeding, still sates.
She stands as a proof that
It is not woman’s beauty one is after.
20.01.2001, Pmdi [repitation
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Supremacy is the beauty
Chubby lips, plump cheeks, massive breasts, fleshy buttocks,
Blunt nose, hairy skin, coarse hair and black eyes
Are the features the Dravidians inherited from the Negros.
Thin lips, flat cheeks, rounded breasts, slated buttocks,
Long nose, pale skin, silky hair and brown eyes
Are the features Aryan inherited from the White race.
Aryans are held beautiful by their cultural supremacy.
30.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Victims are more
I endeared myself to the parents,
That made my siblings hate me.
I endeared myself to the teachers,
That made my peers mock at me.
I endeared myself to the boss,
That made colleagues isolate me.
Whose fault is it?
I reaped what I didn’t sow.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beauty has no standard
Plump cheeks,
Surging breasts,
Massive buttocks
Fleshy thighs.
It is epic beauty.
Firm cheeks,
Standing breasts,
Bonny buttocks,
Slender thighs,
It is modern beauty.
Beauty reforms according to fashion.
26.04.2002, pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who wants her pancreas?
She is nice to look at-
Her eyes, cheeks, lips,
Her nape, ears and hair,
Her chest, loins, waist,
Her hip, shins, feet.
Beauty is skin deep.
Who wants to see
Her heart, liver and pancreas?
06.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Degradation of a race
Black hair, black skin, black eyes,
Square face, square teeth, square chin,
Fleshy breasts, fleshy back and fleshy lips
Are features of Dravidian descendents.
Pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes,
Long face, long teeth, long nose,
Thin chest, thin locks and thin lips
Are features of Aryan descendents.
The former is flesh eating, lustful,
Emotion ridden and industrious.
The latter is grass-eating, lust tamed,
Manoeuvring and goal conscious.
Siva, Parvathi, Kali with Asuras
Are portrayed with Dravidian features.
Rama, Krishna, Lakshmi, Sarasvathi
With devas are of Aryan features.
All Itikas, Puranas and Epics depict thus.
They are held as holy scriptures
By both the races alike.
08.10.2000, Paralkemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Every woman is a beauty.
Beauty comes from fame.
It can come from name.
Wealth, health, and youth
Also play their game.
Throne, crown, brown
Will enhance your frame.
Culture, nature and posture
Bring it up to shine.
Talents and smartness
Add to one’s beauty.
Countenance, profile,
Shape and curves, too.
Walks, speech and voice
Are the spices for beauty.
Honesty is her jewels.
Modesty is her pearls.
Women missing all
Altogether, are very rare.
That is why all women
Get their shares of men’s care.
04.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet 2:
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 2
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held.
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer, "This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,"
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Villanelle
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When all fair dreams were gone or going,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
When white blooms fell from tree-tops high—
Our Austral winter’s way of snowing—
We said farewell, my youth and I.
We did not sigh—what use to sigh
When Death passed as a mower mowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry?
But hearing Life’s stream thunder by,
That sang of old through flowers flowing,
We said farewell, my youth and I.
There was no hope in the blue sky,
No music in the low winds blowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
My hair is black as yet, then why
So sad! I know not, only knowing
We said farewell, my youth and I.
All are not buried when they die;
Dead souls there are through live eyes showing
When Love’s red lips are cold and dry.
So, seeing where the dead men lie,
Out of their hearts the grave-flowers growing,
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Feminine Beauty
By the magical eyes of my beautiful doll
By her graceful figure, so slim, so tall
By the fountain of life that is in her lips
By her narrow waist and her swinging hips
By her lovely face that looks like a rose
By her glowing cheeks and her precious nose
By her silken tresses and her golden curls
By her voluptuous mouth which is full of pearls
By her playful eyes and the ways she winks
By the wine red and the way she drinks
By the musk and incense for her curly hair
By the scent that surrounds her everywhere
By the fragrant dust that blows in her street
By the sacred dirt that covers her feet
By her charming manners, her elegance, and grace
By her stately carriage, her poise, and her pace
For her pity and kindness does Hafiz crave
He remains her humble and a lowly slave.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Someday
hold her close when she's near
let her scare away your fears
only she can dry your tears
[she whispers in your ear]
[with lips of truth]
believe in love
[clairvoyant youth]
believe it's enough
-life could be so sweet someday-
look into those eyes of hers
pay attention to her words
don't just simply wait your turn
[she will speak of wonders]
[with lips of truth]
believe in love
[clairvoyant youth]
believe it's enough
-life could be so sweet someday-
feel her heart change it's pace
tell her things will be okay
kiss her lips and grab her face
[she'll take your breath away]
[with lips of truth]
believe in love
[clairvoyant youth]
believe it's enough
-life could be so sweet someday-
[with lips of truth]
believe it's enough
[clairvoyant youth]
believe in love and..
-someday love could be enough-
(07/27/07)
poem by Frozen Beauty
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Beauty is not in colours
Black hair is nice, but not black teeth.
White teeth are nice, but not whit hair.
Red lips are nice, but not red eyes.
Black eyes are nice, but not black lips.
Beauty is not in colours;
Beauty is in the concepts.
25.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Poem to Honor St. Valentine
If youth could age's wisdom ken,
& age could know youth's fire again
or age could Old Time's hands turn back
T'would then be youth with time to spend
& wisdom's strengths on which to depend.
This said, t'is never just white or black
For youth doth all discretion lack
& age tho' willing & desirous to play
To youth's vitality must passion give way
& such a conflict therein lies
for age is by youth most oft despised
& youth by age oft seen to whine,
“please, won't you be my valentine?”
poem by Hugh Cobb (12 February 2006)
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Youth In Embers
My mirror is troubled, tired of lying to me
My youth is gone, life torn and tattered no longer to be
Like quenching flames that dance suffocating in the rain
Just the agony, pain and regrets of past years reflect again
Is there a way I thought to throw my ashen cloak
And start my life anew under different clock
Yet the flames of my youth shall never leap and burn
Time flows on me so cruelly with no return
So many winters have besieged my life, quizzes out of grace
And dug deep trenches in my face
My skin is dying, dry, dots and spots, brittle and blasted away
Youth proud of lusty days, against now deep-sunken eyes of decay
For years I stopped birthdays and calendar count to tell my time
As the brave day sinks into a hideous foul night
I watch the shy violet behind a rock that year by year renews its prime
My youth in embers, like ashes all bleak white
Lust is inborn
As a lad I set my eyes upon girls
With radiant faces. For a kiss?
As a youth I cast my eyes on damsels,
Who had robust busts. For a grab?
In my manhood, I was excited
By women with sturdy waist. For a bind?
Growing old, still I was drawn to their
Smartness and maturity. For a rest?
Even in my senescence, women matter
By vision, voice and words. For a diffusion?
Birth to death, ever lust persists with the man
To feed on women on many phases.
23.07097
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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