Youngsters are naive
The physician was so prompt
To visit my house to attend
So sincerely my ailing son.
The son and his pretty wife are innocent.
27.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Innocent World
I used to live in an innocent world
I had a car and a pretty blond girlfriend
We was too young to know what we were doing
And anyway I was just fooling around
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
There aint no reason to tell no lie
When youre young and youve got a lot of pie
Now I slink around like a killer
The things they say are just a lot of filler
In my mind, in my mind
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Running, laughing in the sun
And always having lots of fun
Smoking dope and just being young
In my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Burdensome Life
To attend my ailing parents
And conduct their funerals
To support my weak wife
And, perhaps, see off her
And to be at others’ mercy
And wait to face the death
At a time when I grew weak
Are the greatest burden
Heavier than the life led.
I wish I was not born.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pretty woman
Pretty woman.
But wife is beautiful.
Pretty woman is hot.
But wife is the sexiest.
Pretty woman is just for sex.
But a wife is to make love.
Wife is a forbidden fruit.
To you and all.
and wife is more caring.
Be at home and by her husband.
and wife is the husband diamond.
And the husband love making love to her.
That no other women can.
Make him feel so good.
and her husband always in love.
With her.
And wife is the husband success.
Loving and warm full happiness.
She bears our children. And
She is the most gifted darling.
poem by See Fee Lee
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That's The Sum Of It
I don't know which to mourn. Both have died on me, my wife and
my car. I feel strongly about my car, but I am also affected by my,
wife. Without my car, I can't leave the house to keep myself from
being alone. My wife gave me two children, both of whom, of course,
no longer live with us, as was to be expected, as we in our youth left
our parents behind. With my car, I could visit my children, when they
are not too busy.
Before she died, my wife urged me to find another woman. It's advice
I'd like to take up but not without a car. Without a car. I cannot find
myself another woman. That's the sum of it.
poem by David Ignatow
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Own it to keep it
What for does a man want a wife-
To ride or to lie on? It is like asking
What for does a man want a house-
To own or to live in? Own it to keep it.
15.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Heart Beating In Time
Each day without fail
the road would visit the house
(it was the only house the road knew)
and the house too
would look forward to
the road’s visit.
Over the years they became
good friends.
Then one day the house died
from lack of people
and was torn down
until it was only
memory and rubble.
The road continued to visit it
but could only stare into empty space
at the place where the house
had been.
The road was lonely.
At night it talked to
the landscape and the stars
but life was never the same
again.
One day the road just up and died
from lack of use.
Now only the dream
of a memory exists
and the landscape and stars
talk to themselves
and try to remember
what it is...they have
forgot.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Lie would win over truth
He was
Shabbily dressed,
Gloom
On his unshaven face
Pain in the eyes
He entered my chamber
Politely asked for a
Ten-rupee note
To buy medicine for his
Ailing wife
Without thinking much
I gave the note to him
After few days
He came back again
With the same story
Another note
Was given to him
By his third visit
I came to know
He was an imposter
Concocting false stories
To collect money
I yelled at him
Asked him to go away
Refused to give
Any money
He smiled and said
Now you know the truth
However,
I need the money
You have to give it to me
Other wise
I shall go on the road
Shout on the top of
My voice
You call yourself rich
But you are the
Biggest miser
On the earth
Who does not have?
Even a Ten-rupee note
To help an ailing lady
I am a popper
Nobody knows me
However, you shall
Lose your prestige
In my heart, I cursed him
My prestige was on stake
Lie would win over truth
In sheer disgust I gave
A hundred rupee note to him
Requested him to please
Spare me
Do not bother me again
11-03-2012
345-78-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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No sexual honesty
How nice his settee is!
I must buy one like that.
How fine his house is!
I must build one like that.
How cute his wife is!
I wish I got her
No man is sexually honest.
17.06.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A double edge sword
They say love is
a physician,
or a medicine for
the hearts pang.
But is not much
accurate when love
slugs you many times
and it never heals
the heart,
Much more then that it
shatters it every time.
For my heart is wounded
in numerous ways it is not
a proving thing,
Is like a myth a
fairy tale;
Love is a double
edge sword,
they might say love
is an antidote that
heals or an aspirin to
ease the pain,
Not in my world,
in my veins,
but yet the only
love that heals my wounds
and my aches is
the Lord's love.
A mans love
has no remedy,
it is the worst love you
can conceive
love is a tainted touch
when coming from mortal,
A dark veil with
poison desires,
love has come to me
with untainted eyes,
and hidden thorns,
covering his identity,
A pet can give away
his best to you,
a pure innocent love,
with meekness eyes
and pure soul.
Love is not a healer
to the heart,
to me it is a thieve of my
peace and bliss,
a harmony turn to war.
So love is a physician,
that's what they say,
but medicine posthumous
is unreachable unless by
Godly
The love of God is
a true love,
it has no envy
no confinement,
no conditions,
is perpetual and
immaculate.
Don't tell me love
is a physician,
a physician is
what I need after having
the love of thee.
Jehovah is my physician indeed
copyrightElenaToledo2009
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Tempted
I walk down the street
A pretty woman passes
I stop, turn and stare.
Her bottom wiggles
Oooh, I’m tempted
Then my conscience kicks in
To remind me that
I have a wife, three kids and a cat
30 Jan 2007
poem by David Harris
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The feather and the cap
With a coin in my pocket,
Shall I buy milk for my child
Or pills for my ailing parent?
A child is a feather to the cap.
An old is a worn out cap.
12.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The first and the second childhood
The same house housed
An invalid old and an innocent child.
Both need to be tended,
Fed, bathed, clothed and toileted.
One is the feather to the cap
And the other the overgrown nail.
One cries for milk and the other, for death.
One is cheered and the other, ignored.
The child is tomorrow’s unwanted
02.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The studio rented a house for my wife in Los Angeles under a phony name to keep reporters away. Whenever I wanted to visit her and my children, I would have to sneak in the back door after dark.
quote by Max von Sydow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 15
The beautiful wife of a man died but her mother, a decrepit old hag, remained in the house on account of the dowry. The man saw no means of escaping from contact with her until a company of friends paid him a visit of condolence and one of them asked him how he bore the loss of his beloved. He replied: ‘It is not as painful not to see my wife as to see the mother of my wife.’
The rose has been destroyed and the thorn remained.
The treasure has been taken and the serpent left.
It is better that one’s eye be fixed on a spear-head
Than that it should behold the face of an enemy.
It is incumbent to sever connection with a thousand friends
Rather than to behold a single foe.
My wife being a trainer helps, because when I'm at home, everything we keep at the house is pretty healthy.
quote by James Denton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bethy in Our Streety
Of all the girls that are so smart
There’s none like pretty Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
It’s so to say no lady in the land
Pleases my soul like Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
Her father is a clergy
With eyes straight crying the Kingdom
And mother sells eatables giving energy
To as many are pleased she to buy from
They two bore under God (my heart!)
So sweet a dove as Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
When she is here a visit to make
Aside I pack all works; I love her sincerely
Thus my sins with kins o’erflow the lake
And I’m beaten severely
But let it, a thousand fold be
I’ll bear it all for Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
My friends take me out on dates
And often am I nagged
Because I leave them by the plates
As soon as treats are on table hanged
Out I sneak to Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
When Christmas comes again
Then I’d worked for months
O how much money I’d have without pain
I’ll box some and give to honey
I would it were a thousand dollars
To her I’ll still give the money
She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our streety.
How our neighbours today
Make a fun of me and Bethy
But I’ll still my pure prettie serve each day
Till we wed as led, and bed as bred
But no longer in our streety.
O to clap for my children
Precious little tummied Tommies
From my wife’s tummy
Tiny feet within my house scampering
Little angels around chattering
They’re all born by Bethy
She is the darling of my heart
We are no longer in our streety!
poem by Adekunle Adedigba
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‘Happy Birthday, Mum!
Your ninety years’ of love
To children and all, prove
The mother great and wife,
That you had been all life!
You slogged all life
As mother, wife;
With dogged days rife,
Frequent strife!
Another Marian,
Now nonagenarian;
What wisdom fills your heart,
In things, you’ve done from start!
God bless you mother dear,
And help you better hear,
And keep you from all fear,
And any earthly tear!
‘Happy Birthday, Mum! (10-30-2007)
Avoid becoming glum.’
Lovingly dedicated to my dear mother
Mrs.Stella Antoniswami, CBE
By son Celestine, wife Mercy and
Grand-daughters Cathy ad Diana
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-30-2007
poem by John Celes
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A Woman’s Jacket
She thought that I
Was a simple servant
To hang a woman’s jacket
When she enters a room,
To remain downcast
Despite the aroma of her perfume.
I had no desire to undeceive her;
I happened to be there
To visit her husband,
A friend from a former life,
But once I saw his wife,
I had no intentions
To become reacquainted with him.
I gazed at the splendor of her hair,
The majesty of her shoulders,
The elegant way she walked.
I then took her perfumed jacket
Like an obliging servant
And swiftly slipped out of the house
With that jacket and my lovely thoughts.
Perhaps, in a few more years,
I’ll attempt to visit my friend again.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Bhakti is different from beauty
Visit Puri; your eyes are on the idol.
Visit Konark; yours on the sculptures.
While with your wife you see her soul.
While with a pimp, you see her flesh.
Spiritual and aesthetic are different.
24.12.2000, [bakthi = devotion to God]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A physician without a knowledge of Astrology has no right to call himself a physician.
quote by Hippocrates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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