A woman in the house is like a kaka in the forest.
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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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House and Man
One hour: as dim he and his house now look
As a reflection in a rippling brook,
While I remember him; but first, his house.
Empty it sounded. It was dark with forest boughs
That brushed the walls and made the mossy tiles
Part of the squirrels' track. In all those miles
Of forest silence and forest murmur, only
One house - 'Lonely!' he said, 'I wish it were lonely' -
Which the trees looked upon from every side,
And that was his.
He waved good-bye to hide
A sigh that he converted to a laugh.
He seemed to hang rather than stand there, half
Ghost-like, half like a beggar's rag, clean wrung
And useless on the brier where it has hung
Long years a-washing by sun and wind and rain.
But why I call back man and house again
Is there now a beech-tree's tip I see
As then I saw - I at the gate, and he
In the house darkness, - magpie veering about,
A magpie like a weathercock in doubt.
poem by Edward Thomas
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I Built This House
I built this house from its foundation
It's foundation I made it strong
So that it can't be shaken
By anything
I built this house
On love
Not on lies
I built this house
I turned it into a home
And that was my vision
I built this house
Just like a wise woman
A woman who builds a house on a foundation of a rock
Not like a foolish woman
Who builds a house
On a sand
And then turns and destroys it with her hands
I won't allow anything to break it down
To break my children and my husband
With nonsense
With arguments, alcohol and unfaithfulness
So devil you better live
Cause I built this house
On top of the rock Jesus
poem by Vangile Mtyali
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Woman Is Fire
There was a time when Woman went out of house, house of wax was left by Woman, Woman with waxen complexion I was, I was fiery Woman, Woman's body was a wax, Woman's eyes a flammable paraffin, what Woman's mouth was: withered red apples when Woman was fired out of house. House was invisible when Woman took a fire lamp and went to cheer in the smell of fallen apples, scattered around house, our moldy house. In the cold night Woman molded her body in a candle mould to revive old fire and saw Man that gathered apple stalks from moldy apple trees. It was a lonely man, Man that made a fire with waxed paper and moldering apple stalks. Man that sat outdoors on a moldy wooden bench by that fire and drunk applejack.
Woman saw Man, Man that felt Woman's looks through apple shaped embers bursting out of fire when wet apple leaves dried. Fire was a necessity for Man, for Man made his living being a fire-eater. The fire-eater wanted fire that gives birth, of fireworks, exploding fire. Man moved a long green apple stalk through fire to burn fire more. Man took a dropp and swallowed it. Man took another dropp and spat it into the fire. Suddenly Man realized what he needed and waxed on a piece of paper: fire must drink applejack for fire is becoming moldy, and he spat what he drunk mingled with apple-tasting spit. House is moldy too, Woman remembered and woman's heart became a rotten apple.. Fire was quenching as Woman closed her eyelids, apple peels, longing for house. House may be moldy, but house is not empty. Woman molded house the like, house full of candle lights and fireflies. Woman left Man's fire quenched and remained an apple scented candle. House melts easily and hardens quickly, Woman too. Woman abandoned Man not to be melt. That is old fire in Woman, as she stalks on apple waxed earth toward house.
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
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Kwamena
That man and his house,
That woman and her house,
That man and his wife,
That woman and her husband,
That man and his car,
That woman and her car,
But, your lover is afar off! !
However, i am Kwamena in the land of your muse;
And, i am ever ready to help you solve your problems.
A whirlwind! !
And, you actually heard it;
For, it was like a vision.
Your table, your food and your house!
Bring in the wealth to help the poor people around;
And like the muse of love in the land of peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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
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woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Poor House
You walk in, half past nine
Lookin like a queen
Serving me with papers
Calling me obscene
Woman Ive tried so hard
Just to do my best
Theyre gonna put me in the poor house
And youll take all the rest
Up all day, down all night
Working on the job
Everything I do is wrong
I always end up [..]
Woman I try so hard
Done all I can do.
Theyre gonna put me in the poor house
Keep all the best for you.
Ooh, in the poor house
Ooh, in the poor house
If a drove a pulpwood truck
Would you love me more?
Will you bring me diamonds
And hang around my door
Woman, Ive done my best
Theyre aint much left for me
Theyre gonna put me in the poor house
And throw away the key (in the poor house)
Ooh, in the poor house
You walked in, half past nine
Lookin like a queen
Serving me with papers
Calling me obscene
Woman Ive tried so hard
Just to do my best
Theyre gonna put me in the poor house
And youll take all the rest
In the poor house
Ooh, in the poor house
In the poor house
Ooh, in the poor house
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rickety Rhyme
rickety man, rickety house
quickly ran, saw a mouse
stately woman, in stick hut
prickly fish, coconut
Man meets Woman half the way
Woman asks Man want to play?
sticky situation, sticky plot
Man tells Woman rather not
Woman looks Man not well hung
Woman tells Woman not much fun
Man tells Woman another time
Woman goes off end the rhyme
06/09/09
poem by John Lyday
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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
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woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Inside and Back Out
A forest encircles the lawn,
the lawn encircles sheets of English ivy,
the ivy encircles the walls of a house,
the house encircles its furnishings,
the furniture encircles a family
the family sits on the furniture,
the furniture completes the house,
the house is cuddled by walls,
the walls are warmed by English ivy,
the ivy loathes the horizontal lawn,
the lawn pines to be a forest.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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The Story Behind The Fire This Morning
before the house was razed by fire
the old man visited the house and cried
telling me about a young man who promised
that if he ever loves another woman
the house shall be burned
to strip it of its meaning
at 6: 30 today early morning the firemen
called it a day. The house is gone
The old man gone. The young man gone.
i like to write the story behind all these
misfortune
but i am afraid that some parts of it
may not be true
or that if true, it may not be fair at all,
or that it be totally unjust
so that there is no use
writing it anymore
The old woman died a year ago
She floated in air
suffered vertigo
she gave up finally
the young man to the world
heard the promise of the old man
who could not do anything
when the house
got burned.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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2.........What is a woman to you?
What is a woman to you? ...........
what is a woman to you?
is she tall…short…thin…or plump?
what attracts you to her
is it her eyes, her smile, her breast
or is it her intelligence, her views on issues
the way she makes you feel
when she looks at you
what is a woman to you?
Do you like a woman who keeps a good house,
Raises your children, and
Flatters you constantly
Or do you like a woman who is career oriented,
Who will challenge you,
And support you in your endevours
What is a woman to you?
Is she aggressive, dominante, she’s the one on top,
Always the one on top
Or is she timid, shy,
lets you do anything you want,
you are the one in control what happens, not her
what is a woman to you?
only you can answer that questions
I’d just thought I’d ask……..
(june/2009)
poem by Fawzia Zie
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Kaka
Prevailing attitude,
In harmony to the words of your muse;
But i am Kaka with the works of love,
And like the true land of Philosophy.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bedroom Karoake
Pink Champagne & I
love your hair...eh?
With a hairbrush
I sing
(prancing like a prat)
doing Rosemary Clooney
doing her thing.
Come on a my house... my house a come on
Come on a my house...my house a come on
Come on a my house...to my house
I’m gonna give ya candy!
You in stitches
having never seen a naked man sing
an old 1950’s song
from his childhood.
I have never seen
a naked woman
laugh so much
You snatch
the hairbrush
& tantalisingly turn the song
into improper suggestion.
Come on a my house.. a my house
I’m gonna give you
Everything...everything...everything!
I come...I come!
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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House Of Pain
(GillanBradford)
Have you ever had a woman that could make you crazy
Have you ever had a woman that could drive you mad
Have you ever had a woman give you so much trouble
And the best lovin' you ever had
My friends all say I'm losing it big time
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
Back to the house of pain
Have you ever had a rock that just keeps on rollin'
Have you ever seen a train comin' down the track
Have you ever jumped into the cold, cold never
And know there's no turning back
My friends all say I'm crazy, baby
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going home
Back to the house of pain
Have you ever had a weight that was much too heavy
Have you ever had a burden that was yours alone
Have you ever spent a night when you keep on waiting
Staring at the telephone
My friends all say I'm crazy, baby
But I know where I've got to go
I'm going back there again
I'm going back there again
I'm going back to my woman
Back to the house of pain
Then I run away
(chorus)
you'll always be my inspiration
I love you from afar
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman and Pride
Woman roar
Woman show
Woman dance
Woman fight
Woman win
Woman cry
Now this woman's pride
lies in her tears
Woman's pride...............
Woman's life
Woman's private
Woman's movie
Woman's dream
Woman's cohabit with her renter
Woman's living away from the outside world
Woman's pride......................
poem by Yihuai Ying
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I Am Not A Woman...
I am not a woman that loves with a heart
I am not a woman that's silly and smart
I am not a woman with open wounds
I am not a woman that's more attuned
I am not a woman that you hold dear
I am not a woman that has no fear
I am not a woman that's loved or lost
I am not a woman that doesn't know the cost
I am not a woman that's hurting inside
I am not a woman that has no foolish pride
I am not a woman that can't look you in the eye
I am not a woman alone that cries
I am not a woman that's imprisoned with chains
I am not a woman that holds her will in vain
I am not a woman, or mother, or friend
or wife, or daughter, or one to depend
I am not a woman of all and more
Because I gave it away to the one I adore
what's left is all you see
Just a woman that truly believes
The Miniature Woman
The Blue-Eyed Giant, the Miniature Woman
and the Honeysuckle
He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.
He was a blue-eyed giant,
he loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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