Skip to main content

THE CYCLE HUMOUR

I know not what it was under;
I wanted not to know before
I got married at thirty four
To a dame of  'feminine order'.

I had heard that it was a fever -
Almost a week - little less or more,
That once a month occurs the fever;
Once i had heard it from my mother.

Now i see Akshay Kumar's pannier
Delivering something from door to door -
The Padman what cine fans say,
Can fix the sickness at coins' pay.

Then ask me if now i do know !
And i do say i do not know.
And till my death i shall not know
What is not apt for me to know...

Some secrets are secrets, however,
As in my living it does not matter;
And i shan't know if that reel Kumar
Comes to our door to sell that soft bar !

But i do know things will get septic
If harmless secrets are made public.
So i know not my dame's 'pious' seals,
And so, my nose gets not 'impious' wrinkles.

Will you, so, gentlemen please stop to fret
Over this sanitary secret ? --
And put your bulletins on guard,
Against making the taboo word a hate word ?

                                          --- N P Samal

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

KISS ME, PLEASE!

Woo-hoo...! Kisss you...u...u...u...??? Oh, I'm being frenzical !!! My slavering tongue is jerking fast And my quivering lips are pouting out With booms of kisses in the air -- Ummah...! Ummah...! Ummah...! Just yesterday, an okay got my promise. Today is the chance no way to miss. And ready is my basket with pecks, Lip-locks, French kisses, and other varieties... I'm also ready for the lizard kiss, And the kiss of the Spider man... And I'm sure I won't beg like Big B  -- (Juma, chumma de de chumma...), This is my right to kiss I earn'd this week. I shall kiss like one Dhoom 2's Hritthik-Aash's, Although I envy Emraan's 'Murderous' thriller kiss... I'm ready with my balmy lips, Strawberry flavour'd,  To be the biggest smoocher  Of do hazaar chhabees... And I have hidden the cracks  On my wintry lips  To save from rashes My Valentine's softy cheeks... Well with flushed up teeth, With cleaned up tongue, With exotic ...

THE CHILDREN OF GAZA

                 The Children Of Gaza                               A Blank Verse Thundering in the sky, then rain of missiles... See how they are fleeing arms outstretched  Like the broken wings of storm-hit birds, And see their faces white with fear and hunger And hear their throbbing voice of pain and loss... Over their head, the sky's no kites, no clouds, But fire and fire amidst engulfing smoke, And they are running like the Napalm girl  From Vietnam or standing frozen, like The standing boy from Nagasaki, before Their elders who are whispering in fear Or staring helpless in the gauge of Death... They are the hapless children caught in the war zone. They have no home, no school, no ground of freedom, But sole refugee camps and hospitals  If marching death has spared them of their life. They hear not bedtime tales but sirens of death.  For them,...

THE RETURN : RHYME 100

                    The Return                                   Rhyme 100 Infants gambol about their home With blooms and toys, But they return to mom's bosom For the real joys. Children frolic about the streams, In meads and hedges, But to their home they return for Their real flowerage. Youths do rush about crazy for World's whole treasure, But they return for real living To own life and career.  Adults get sunk into the labour With dedication, But this's the return to raise well Their own children.  The old trudge about the yard Of their nursing shed, But lastly they return for rest To their death bed. ©️ N P Samal