PO-YUMS

Questions for My Grandfather.

pooyums — Thu, 01 May 2008 15:28:04 +0000

The snow settled on the old pine trees like an x-ray,
searching out some kind of cancer,
and the best that I can do is wonder
just exactly what you’d say about it.

I was seven–almost eight, bouncing on a knee,
and if I’d known anything of war
not played with flimsy, dull-edged cards
around an old extendable kitchen table
every two Sundays, I might have asked.

I’ll bet it changes people, war, I mean.
Lead-tipped and trigger-operated
death, strafing all those mothers’ sons,
mortars like small-town fireworks,
and everything I’ve read about.

It’s cold here, and my footprints explode
into this inch or two, and then disappear,
lost with each gust of wind. And if I could,
I’d ask how a kid no older than me
can get sent to hell and live to talk about it.

My Better Half.

pooyums — Thu, 01 May 2008 15:25:18 +0000

As the rain falls on my thatched roof,
I panic, for there’ll be some leakage on the floor;
Helter skelter I run about,
Placing the calabashes on the usual spots.
Wrapped in the thread bone wrapper on the bamboo bed
you left behind,
I reminisce on the times we spent in the twilight,
Playing and dancing to the tunes of the drum beaters,
Coupled with the noise of the crickets.
At dawn, the cock will crow;
Then I recall your warm embrace,
Your confident and reassuring smile,
Revealing your gaped tooth,
And on your powerful shoulders,
You would want me,
Telling me, “No one else can replace your better half.”

How To Torture Your Teachers.

pooyums — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 13:05:49 +0000

Only raise your hand when
you want to sharpen your pencil
or go to the bathroom.
Repeat every ten minutes.

Never raise your hand
when you want to answer a question;
instead, yell, “Oooh! Oooh! Oooh!”
and then, when the teacher calls on you,
say, “I forgot what I was going to say.”

Lean your chair back,
take off your shoes, and
put your feet up on your desk.
Act surprised when the teacher
puts all four legs of your chair back on the floor.

Drop the eraser end of your pencil
on your desk.
See how high it will bounce.

Drop your books on the floor.
See how loud a noise you can make.

Hum.
Get all your friends to join in.

Hold your nose,
make a face, and say, “P.U.!”
Fan the air away from your face,
and point to the kid in front of you.

On the last day of school,
lead your classmates in chanting:
“No more pencils!
No more books!
No more teachers’
dirty looks!”

Then, on your way out
the door, tell the teacher,
“Bet you’re looking forward
to summer vacation this year.
But I’ll sure miss you.
You’re the best teacher
I’ve ever had.”

Friends.

pooyums — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:58:05 +0000

There was a day very bright,
I wanted to feel alright,
I had no one to play with,
No one to confide in.
Then I saw a ray of hope,
Like an angel she came near me,
She talked to me,
And shared my dreams,
We became best of friends,
I felt liked,
And my life became light,
When I felt low,
I didn’t show,
But there was one,
Who just got to know,
Walking by me all the time,
Always showing the right side,
Making me feel good most of the time,
Telling me about my fault,
So that I can get right,
The real beauties,
The true angels,
The best of buddies,
This and much more,
Is what friends are.

If God Would Grant Me A Few Boons.

pooyums — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:07:43 +0000

If God would grant me a few boons,
I would be on my own soon,
I would wish to fly up in the sky,
And would touch the horizon with my petite wings.
I would punish all those who did bad things,
I would be a queen not only in my dreams.
And would own the highest tower,
I would soon be ordering loads of Ice-Cream,
And not have anything bad and sour.
This World would have a peaceful life,
And everyone should be satisfied.