Fecundity

I saw two enormous moths mate,

With five-inch wings swallow-tailed

The male was on top of the female,

Hunching with a horrible animal vigor.

A picture of utter degradation it was.

They live under the constant pressure

That hungers & lusts and drives

And drives one to its own death.

They eat to fuel the surge to sex

To pump out billions of births

A terrible force for birth & growth.

We, the escapees, of amoral world

Wake in terror, eat in hunger.

Our emotions are painful & harmful,

The animals have a bonus point in that.

Five-Finger-Discount

He was adjudged not a man enough

To make his wife pregnant by a test.

He was closed, shy, and fearful as if guilty.

Advised by the doctor to give sample

Of semen after three years of married life

Asked to masturbate in an unclean toilet,

Getting his palm red, milking the bull,

Shaking the hands with his wife’s friend,

Holding a plastic bottle for the flow.

Not knowing of any sexual fantasies

Greatly stressed by ‘semen on demand’

With no erotic photographs, or a jelly,

Or a vibrator to accomplish an emission.

Not knowing what he was doing

Got a few drops of sticky substance

Known as pre-ejaculatory fluid,

That comes out before the emission.

The judge smiled at his idiocy, saying

“What we all do but don’t talk about”.

From St. Simon’s Island

I listen on the beach to the waves cascading,

Slapping, tossing the sand pebbles,

Creating swishing, swashing sounds,

I hear hissing, rustling sounds of the wind.

I see some gliding fishing boats there,

The seagulls soaring, gliding in the air here,

On the horizon floating ships still further,

Surfers trying to get rides on the waves here.

I watch people running strolling and sunning,

The sun is about to set on the horizon,

With a promise to rise anew tomorrow,

Like the human ambitions and desires.

I notice the crabs scurry to hide somewhere,

The scooping pelicans with mouthful of fish,

Water receding leaving the smooth bed of sand,

All sounds now receding to its minimum.

Come, Grace, getting away from the turmoils,

Is it not the time for us to be in tranquility?

Mowing and Fertilizing

It had been a bright and sunny day,

Looking thro’ the window listlessly,

Brooding over what life is after all,

Fumbling, rambling, finding no answer.

Suddenly I heard the noise of a machine,

Saw my neighbour mowing the lawn,

In the twilight of the clear day.

He had come to America for a better life.

Like all immigrants come for and

Living in relationship with a woman.

The noise made me dosed off a while

I heard the noise in the morning again.

The woman was fertilizing the lawn

Found the answer what life is after all.
 

Ram(niklal)  Mehta, born in  Dwarka, had been a professor  and Head, Department of English, N.A.Arts College, V.Vidyanagar, Gujarat  India.  After his retirement in  1994,  his time splits between India and North America.

He visited France on a cultural mission in 1989 and presented a scene of Moliere's La tartuffe in Paris. He also visited UK, Scotland and Ireland. He is a life member of the World Academy of Arts & Culture  and attended its convention at IASI, Romania in October, 2002. He also attended 4th Encuentro Internacional Literario at Montevideo, Uruguay in April, 2003.

His poems entered  the semi-finalist in the contests held by International Society of Poets, MD, USA and was awarded International Poet of Merit Silver Bowl and a medallion in August 2000, at Washington, DC, USA.

His poems are published in Tintota (Australia)- Indolink, Kavitanjali (India)- Poetry Magazine (NY)- Sonatapub, Conspire, Lovepoetry, Poetry.com, Betterkarma, Turbula, Map of Austin Poetry, Long Story Short, Cold Glass (USA)- Electric Acorn (Ireland),-Fieralingue, Niederngasse (Italy)- Niagara Poetry project (Canada)-The Indite circle (NZ)-  Poetry world (Zambia)- and Anthologies of World Congress of Poets (Romania). His eight poems are translated into Spanish and are published  in Anthology of—aBrace,-Circulo de poesia -2 Uruguay.