Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar Poems

Lust never rests
Between two souls
But tends to crossfire.
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Not fresh is she now to her spouse.
She is often put to the disuse,
Much to her disgust and despair.
Beauty deteriorating without use.
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Being away from his wife,
He recalls how she has lulled him.
Being with her wife,
He feels how she is pestering him.
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A horse does not find itself
Superior to a donkey.
A race horse finds not itself
Superior to a farm horse.
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I invited the people I wanted to,
For all the functions I have conducted.
Would all the people whom I want to know
Of my death be informed and would they attend?
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Parents type I:

You feed the dog;
It guards the yard.
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Women of beauty are in demand.
They grow immune to men’s demand.
Thronging men leave with empty hand.
It is common women that answer their knocks.
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The whore is the woman
Who sells her body, not her heart.
In adultery, the woman
Sells, bodily or not, the very heart.
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Your tone over phone, neither feminine nor masculine,
Once in a week or so, nervous, and with hidden passion,
Nevertheless, resonates to my senses in repetition
Like a bruised gramophone record, you in my vision.
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Honey is sweet, taken in teaspoonful.
Milk is taken in cups.
Sweetheart is sweet, distantly tasted.
Wife is milk taken in lump and often.
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