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Castrated men

China odds were aplenty
Plenty to puzzle our mind
Fear of infedility led emperors to
Castrate men who helped run
The Palace including 3,000 concubines
But alas, some of these men with
no ball wielded so much power
They actually had the emperors by the ball
And run the Middle Kingdom
One of them Tsai Lun was to be a genius
Who invented the paper
That revolutionised the world
Comic stories told of blunders
At the castration centres
Resulting in sham eunuchs
Who later busied themselves
With the forbidden fruits
But castrated balls and penises
Were never thrown away
They were preserved in tiny jars

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Inveteracies...

a heap of dry leaves
under the trees

trees like fingers
stretching to reach
the moon

on the marshes
of the big river
the full moon sits
silently

a dog barks
this morning
at the wrong person

someone calls my
name but i do not dare
look back

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Difficult Moment in the Life of Colonel Frobisher

We sat around the table, our conversation decorated by carefully arranged laughter, as we enjoyed our dish of tea. Our manners were impeccable, devoid of any unruly passion or the expression of too brutal an idea or feeling. Nothing was coarse or inappropriate. How civilized and sterile we were, eunuchs of imagination! We laughed and chatted like soulless marionettes, afraid of anything honest or too sincere. Suddenly the man to my right produced a knife and plunged it into the hostess's heart. 'F**K ALL OF YOU SNIVELLING LITTLE C**TS! ! ' he shouted. It was really rather embarassing. I could hear the maids in the kitchen titter. I stood up and graciously took my leave. What a pity it is that brutes like this exist! He obviously hadn't been to a Public School. I felt vexed. The murderer had spoiled my afternoon.

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Wish I was a Vegetarian!

I wish I were a vegetarian
I'd sleep a little easier
Without dead sheep to count
Brushing my teeth, not watching out
For stray pieces of meat

I'm searching for the discipline
Excuse or motivating force
To bolster my resolve to eat
And be as I should long have been
Of flesh and guilt, absolved and free

I've visited the slaughter-house
Where brains are stunned, carcasses hung
And bled and quartered into steak
The regiments of hens, all caged, debeaked
The pigs castrated, eunuchs waiting for the end to come.

I don't care how the surplus beasts would do -
We're overpopulated here ourselves!

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poem by Frank Bana
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Inner Light Is Finally Shining

Inner light is finally beginning to shine
People are no longer watching from sidelines
They are willing to look beyond their concerns
Help is pouring out all of a sudden.

Whether by lighting a candle or marching in silent protest
Against those who mindlessly perpetrate
Crime, or to help a software techie paralysed
And do whatever for the guy so traumatized.

Today I read the Tamil government has given eunuchs
Their rightful place as a third sex
These are signs to help those marginalised
Mere slogans are not enough it’s finally realised.

All is not lost
There is still hope
Let’s all be the change we want
And not wait for a magic wand

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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Song Of Lovely Women

Third day, third month festival,
and the air fresh with spring;
beside Serpentine Lake in Chang'an,
many lovely women stroll.
Their appearance is elegant,
their thoughts lofty and refined,
their complexions delicate,
figures in perfect proportion.
Their embroidered silk gowns
glisten with spring light;
golden peacocks and beasts of silver
strut upon the fabric.
What is it that they wear
upon their heads?
Jeweled headbands with kingfisher feathers,
dangling to their hairlines.
And what is it that we see
upon their backs?
Pearl-studded overskirts
drawn tight at the waist.

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poem by Du Fu
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Brother George

ever since
brother george
came on the scene,
i have felt something
sinister in his physiognomy;
that crushed onion nose
that seems to have been placed
in the wrong place;
that ugly mount that
forbodes uneasy,
uncanny things to come,
the superstitious streak in me
always urging me to to call him
to have a nose job done.
i blamed myself for not
until the plane
came crushing down,
the towers tumbling down,
the innocent peaceful
old giant buddha

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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Bible Stories: Esther (Part IIIA)

Esther’s Problems:

Mordecai saw Haman’s order;
He walked through the city crying,
Just dressed in sack-cloth and ashes,
Until he reached the royal gates,
To tell Esther and seek her help.

Her eunuchs brought this news to her;
With anguished heart, she sent garments;
But Mordecai refused the clothes;
He gave Haman’s order to her:
‘All Jews would be killed in one day! ’
Haman was second to the king
And sentenced every Jew to death.

Mordecai explained to Hathach
The things that Esther was to do;
She was to pray to God before
She met the king and pleads with him,

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poem by John Celes
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The Mower Against Gardens

Luxurious Man, to bring his Vice in use,
Did after him the World seduce:
And from the Fields the Flow'rs and Plants allure,
Where Nature was most plain and pure.
He first enclos'd within the Gardens square
A dead and standing pool of Air:
And a more luscious Earth for them did knead,
Which stupifi'd them while it fed.
The Pink grew then as double as his Mind;
The nutriment did change the kind.
With strange perfumes he did the Roses taint.
And Flow'rs themselves were taught to paint.
The Tulip, white, did for complexion seek;
And learn'd to interline its cheek:
Its Onion root they then so high did hold,
That one was for a Meadow sold.
Another World was search'd, through Oceans new,
To find the Marvel Of Peru.
And yet these Rarities might be allow'd,
To Man, that Sov'raign thing and proud;

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poem by Andrew Marvell
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Tamara

Where waves of the Terek are waltzing
In Dariel's wickedest pass,
There rises from bleakest of storm crags
An ancient grey towering mass.

In this tower by mad winds assaulted,
Sat ever Tamara, the Queen--
A heavenly angel of beauty,
With a spirit of hell's own demesne.

Through the mist of the night her gold fires
Gleamed down through the valley below,
A welcome they threw to the pilgrim,
In their streaming and beckoning glow.

How clear rang the voice of Tamara!
How amorous did it invite!
The heart of the stranger enticing,
Seducing with magic delight!

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poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
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