A spaniel, a woman, and a walnut-tree, the more they're beaten the better they be.
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A spaniel, a wife, and a walnut tree, The more you beat 'em the better they be.
Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Bacelli’s Walnut Tree
Not far the corner of my home's knee
Just some yards above the road
Stands on its glory the Big Walnut Tree
Branched right and left over the road
As the years jump on line and the clock ticks
I can see through the epochs and curtain blinds
Babies being born, marriages, deaths, wars and miseries
Misfortunes and happiness experienced by Bacellis
This Big Walnut Tree, the old sincere angel
The witness so fair for a hundred years.
I often come back to this Walnut Tree
I kneel and pray in silence
As a great grandmother in need
I ate the tasty nuts of this tree
As my father, my pop did once
All of them fellows Bacelli
Yes, indeed my sons will try them too
My granddaughters and grandsons
The Walnut Tree fetches, embraces all generations
Keeping inside the live ones and protecting the dead Bacellis
When my father was gone and buried
The Walnut Tree joined me in grieving
Fruit stalled, tears dropped
No leaves, no flowers, no nuts, all disappeared
The Walnut Tree nearly did perish
It dried and vanished like a storm turning greyish
Other times the Big Walnut Tree shed tears
Three times, when Bacellis' house scorched on skies
Humbled disappearing fast through sparkling fires
The Big Walnut Tree of Bacellis
It's my home, my shelter and my roof
When I need to go back to my roots
To meet Bacellis and the dead ones that I miss
On my troubled days of New York
For crashed sweet nuts in my bag I check
With my finger I touch the exquisite silk
Of my Big Walnut Tree at home back
poem by Agim Bacelli
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A woman, a dog and a walnut tree, the more you beat them, the better they be.
quote by Thomas Fuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree, the more you beat them the better they be.
Woman, Made a Punching Bag of Man
A woman, beaten by the cruel hands of her man
Beaten as she raises her voice to challenge his words
Beaten as she goes out to celebrate her freedom
Beaten as she refuses to do what he orders and wants.
And the battered woman accepts her tragic lot
Bearing the marks of violence on her own body
Longing for golden days of love and romance
Lamenting on her destiny as punching bag of man.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Walnut Tree
my head foaming clouds, sea inside me and out
I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park
an old walnut, knot by knot, shred by shred
Neither you are aware of this, nor the police
I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park
My leaves are nimble, nimble like fish in water
My leaves are sheer, sheer like a silk handkerchief
pick, wipe, my rose, the tear from your eyes
My leaves are my hands, I have one hundred thousand
I touch you with one hundred thousand hands, I touch Istanbul
My leaves are my eyes, I look in amazement
I watch you with one hundred thousand eyes, I watch Istanbul
Like one hundred thousand hearts, beat, beat my leaves
I am a walnut tree in Gulhane Park
neither you are aware of this, nor the police
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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There are three things from which no good can be got without a beating: a walnut-tree, a donkey, and a shrew.
Beaten To The Punch
You say that you can and then you run to get your mummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Looking for the man who sold you the dummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Laughing at the older guys who say its just as well
Saved by the wedding bell
Almost beaten to the punch
Youre looking for somebody new that you can knock around
You are almost beaten to the punch
If youve got a head for figures then youd better count me out
You were almost beaten to the punch
You pulled the piece but you soon called it love
You go hand in glove
Almost beaten to the punch
Your body speaks much louder than your voice
You let it do the talking so I dont have any choice
Now you find the younger guys are putting up resistance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
You better get out now because youll never go the distance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Youll find a girl and youll promise her anything
Even a wedding ring
Almost beaten to the punch
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ain't That Just Like A Woman
Adam was as happy as a man can be
Til he started messin with an old apple tree
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman she'll do it every time
You can buy a woman clothes give her money on the side
No matter what you do she ain't never satisfied
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman
Ain't that just like a woman she'll do it every time
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The red breasted dove
The red breasted dove swooped
over me
and giddy eyed
went to land
on the fallen tree
overgrown by flowers
in the rock garden
watching itself mirrored
in the window.
It didn’t see
the ginger Persian cat
until the last moment
and with paws stretched out
almost landed on its head.
It still had flight and swooped up
landing in the driveway
at the gate instead,
where the golden cocker Spaniel
went for it.
It flew up into the nearest tree
and disgusted cooed at the dog
who sat watching it
with big brown eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Exeter!
A falling tree;
Killing a woman.
Exter, tree! !
A woman was killed by a falling tree;
Arc, ark!
In Devon,
From the flooding in South West.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Glory Of A Woman...
The Tenderness Of A Woman
Is In The Strength Of Her Hands
Her Power To Touch
And Take Care Of Her Man
The Gentleness Of A Woman
Is In Her Character, To Care
And Her Courage To Bear
All Pains, As A Pair
The Winsomeness Of A Woman
Is In Her Choice To Understand
And A Support Source To Plan
And Her Voice, Cheering, ‘We Can’
The Sweetness Of A Woman
Is In Her Secure Embrace
Her Fragrance, Form, and Face
And Her Hunger, For His Taste
But, The Weakness Of A Woman
… Is That Her Heart, Is Beaten
Surrenders Body and Soul Even
Before His May Weaken
She Stays The Course To Withstand
The Mighty Heart Of A Man
Patience, Like Hour-Glass Sand
Is The Female Force Of A Woman
The Crowning Glory Of A Woman
Is Tresses, Flowing Like Rain Above
But, The Glorious Joy Of A Woman
Is Knowing, She Is Loved …
The Completeness… Of A Woman
Written & ©: 2/22/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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That Knows
the face in the mirror,
grows darker with time...
deep and grainy,
weathered and beaten.
the trunk of an old tree,
where birds hide their nests,
and squirrels meet to plot
the downfall of man.
hollowed and sketched,
with dignity unspoken,
the scars of love and wars,
where insects breed and whisper.
and time itself,
bows in awe and respect,
for the tree that knows
itself to be a tree!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You ARE A Woman :)
You are a woman,
A strong woman,
A grown woman,
One who WON'T give me what I want just cause I want it woman.
He needs you woman,
A loving woman,
Non-trusting woman,
One who knows the difference between right and wrong woman.
I found a woman,
You're one of em,
So many love em,
You just need to see the places you can be woman.
Hear me woman,
Don't fear me woman,
You're near me woman,
We all face strife, gotta change yo life woman.
See me woman,
No fake or frontin,
Can't be me woman,
For I am a man and you need to be a WOMAN!
['Enpowering women since the age of -9 months :) ']
poem by Tamell Bailey
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Whose love is more intense?
One stole a woman he loved
And was beaten to death.
Another one lost a woman
He loved and was pining.
Whose love is more intense?
22.06.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Now that august is gone
Now that august is gone
And we all know that all augusts come and go
Is this woman? a woman of vertue,
Is this woman? a super woman
Is this woman? a woman of mission and vision
Is this woman? classy and stylish
Is this woman? preffesional or house wife
And the woman of action and motion
A woman of courage and resilence
A woman of liberation and liberty
A woman of passion and compassion
A woman of thoughts and opinions
A woman of empathy and sympathy
A woman of concerns and kindness
.
A woman of confrontation or insecurity
A woman of altracation or tranquility
A woman of ambition or armunition
A woman of redeemtion or detention
A woman of power or affection
Is this woman a woman
I am not questining you, woman!
I was questioning this woman
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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09 - Honour under the Old Oak Tree
Lay low under the old oak tree
Ready to move, ready to break free
Lay low until the dead of night
When the moon awakens and the time is right
When the wolf howls at the crescent moon
And the nightingale sings that old familiar tune
The oldest act of a gentleman's chivalry
Is portrayed to the woman under the old oak tree
The meeting of a woman and her forbidden lover
Stolen moments they devour to be with each other
Never their hands intertwined for others to see
Just un-denying love under the old oak tree
Never permitted unguarded smiles for other to see
Just un-denying love under the old oak tree
poem by Nicola Burkett
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When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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