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Who can tie an oven brush, weave a sackcloth and turn over chitterlings is ready for marriage.

Estonian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian Weavers

WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.

Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.

Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.

poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life

WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!
Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come;
Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight
weave in!
Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant
weave! tire not!
(We know not what the use, O life! nor know the aim, the end--nor
really aught we know;
But know the work, the need goes on, and shall go on--the death-
envelop'd march of peace as well as war goes on;)
For great campaigns of peace the same, the wiry threads to weave;
We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.

poem by Walt Whitman
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On Marriage

Pessimistic views: :
Marriage is a gamble!
Marriage is a punishment;
Marriage is an evil that
Most can’t but accept.

Optimistic views:
Marriage is a gift of God;
Marriage is a blessing;
Marriage is an enjoyment,
We make the best of it.

Truths:
Marriage is so wonderful;
Marriage is so fulfilling;
Marriage is so wholesome;
Marriage is an endless love,
More priceless than all wealth!

Marriage is a way of life;
Marriage is so natural;
Marriage is the better way,
For two, to reach Heaven.

poem by John Celes
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The Stand-Ins

In the dream
the swastika is neon
and flashes like a strobe light
into my eyes, all colors,
all vibrations
and I see the killer in him
and he turns on an oven,
an oven, an oven, an oven,
and on a pie plate he sticks
in my Yellow Star
and then
then when it is ready for serving—
this dream goes off into the wings
and on stage The Cross appears,
with Jesus sticking to it
and He is breathing
and breathing
and He is breathing
and breathing
and then He speaks,
a kind of whisper,
and says . . .
This is the start.
This is the end.
This is a light.
This is a start.
I woke.
I did not know the hour,
an hour of night like thick scum
but I considered the dreams,
the two: Swastika, Crucifix,
and said: Oh well,
it doesn't belong to me,
if a cigar can be a cigar
then a dream can be a dream.
Right?
Right?
And went back to sleep
and another start.

poem by Anne Sexton
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At the Altar

Now to take away your life –
Devour your soul afresh upon
The birth of every dawning day
– The spawn of sun and earth –
As of the way Prometheus lost hepatic flesh –
He stole fire! You stole gropes
And f*cks of me; so suffer thee!

Oh yes, perspire! Drizzle down the beads
Upon that crimson, blotchy skin –
I see the once cocksure pose, my man,
Is wearing terribly thin.

Indeed, an absence of repose
Discloses thumping in your chest –
Irregularly rhythmic – like the humping
(When you thought I was a body to molest) .

No more! my little man, for I shall wrest
The living essence from your
Paling, quivering form! –

You’ve had your gentle calm
Before the rumblings of the storm!

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)

I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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You Can't Brush Me Off

Why don't you just give in?
Just like a Siamese twin
I mean to stick to you
Until you do
I won't take it on the chin
You'll never leave me flat
I'm not a "last year's hat"
That you can cast aside
I've got my pride
And I won't stand for that
You can't brush me off
As you would a speck of powder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't shout me down
You can yell but I'll yell louder, you can try
But you can't brush me off
You can say you're out but I'll keep phoning
You can tell me goodbye
You can tell me but I
Won't go
No
You can't leave me cold
As you would a plate of chowder, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[2]
What is this all about?
You've got me wrong, no doubt
I give you all my time
Believe me, I'm
Not looking for some way out
I want you for my wife
Sharing my care and strife
And that may not be fun
For when it's done
You're stuck with me for life
You can't brush me off
As you would a fresh mosquito, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't rub me out
Like a spot on my tuxedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can cut me dead but I won't mind it
You may injure my pride
Still I'll never decide
To go
No
You can't drop me fast
As you would a live torpedo, you may try
But you can't brush me off
[3]
You can't brush me off
Like a colored pullman porter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can't lock me out
Like a frightened farmer's daughter, you may try
But you can't brush me off
You can drop a hint but I won't take it
You can tell me bad news
I intend to refuse
To go
No
You can't give me back
As you would a leaded quarter, you may try
But you can't brush me off

song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed

(Kinky Friedman)
You uppity women I don't understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
You'd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning you're out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your Maiden Form for Lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman that's ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin' him that he's wrong.
Eve said to Adam, ?Here's an apple you horse?
And Delilah defoliated Samson's moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you can't love a male chauvinist
You'd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.

song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A marriage of two

A marriage of two
is for love that is true

A marriage of two
is always something new

A marriage of two
happens sometimes out of the blue

A marriage of two
is worth it when its due

A marriage of two
is a marriage of trust
Many can find themselves lost
It can be an expensive cost

They are only very few
who have a clue
of when love accrues

A marriage of two
is about love making
It is not about
money raking

A marriage of two
can be bad
A marriage of two
can be sad
You should only be glad if
A marriage of two
is for love that is true

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Get Your Biscuits In The Oven & Your Buns In The Bed

(kinky friedman)
You uppity women I dont understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
Youd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning youre out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your maiden form for lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman thats ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin him that hes wrong.
Eve said to adam, heres an apple you horse
And delilah defoliated samsons moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you cant love a male chauvinist
Youd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.

song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Turned To Hear

The sea of windows and the sea of love,
My spirit is truly ready for you;
The sea of colours and the sea of care,
I turned to hear the voice of love;
And i will whisper back to you when i am ready.

I am black as the sackcloth and ready to tell you a story,
But be very zealous to understand my mind;
For that which is sweet had been eaten by the bird.

You are the course of life and,
I am with the great power of glory!
But, salt is perfect in form and in nature.

I turned to hear,
And of the spirits of love dancing around me;
So be very zealous to understand me when i speak.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I ran to my marriage, I was happily ready to take on marriage.

quote by Mark Ruffalo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Marriage Of Two Is For Love That Is True

A marriage of two is for love that is true
A marriage of two is always something new
A marriage of two happens sometimes out of the blue

A marriage of two is worth it when it’s due
A marriage of two is a marriage of trust
They are only very few who have a clue of when love accrues

A marriage of two is about love making
It is not about money raking
You should only be glad if
A marriage of two is for love that is true

poem by Bikramjyoti Kashyop
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A marriage of two is for love that is true...

A marriage of two is for love that is true
A marriage of two is always something new
A marriage of two happens sometimes out of the blue

A marriage of two is worth it when it’s due
A marriage of two is a marriage of trust
They are only very few who have a clue of when love accrues

A marriage of two is about love making
It is not about money raking
You should only be glad if
A marriage of two is for love that is true

poem by Shashidhar Kumar
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Are You Ready?

Are you ready, are you ready?
Are you ready, are you ready?
Are you ready to meet jesus?
Are you where you ought to be?
Will he know you when he sees you
Or will he say, depart from me?
Are you ready, hope youre ready.
Am I ready, am I ready?
Am I ready, am I ready?
Am I ready to lay down my life for the brethren
And to take up my cross?
Have I surrendered to the will of god
Or am I still acting like the boss?
Am I ready, hope Im ready.
When destruction cometh swiftly
And theres no time to say a fare-thee-well,
Have you decided whether you want to be
In heaven or in hell?
Are you ready, are you ready?
Have you got some unfinished business?
Is there something holding you back?
Are you thinking for yourself
Or are you following the pack?
Are you ready, hope youre ready.
Are you ready?
Are you ready for the judgment?
Are you ready for that terrible swift sword?
Are you ready for armageddon?
Are you ready for the day of the lord?
Are you ready, I hope youre ready.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is marriage, is marriage protection or religion, is marriage renunciation or abundance, is marriage a stepping-stone or an end. What is marriage.

quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A cake is a very good test of an oven: if it browns too much on one side and not on the other, it's not your fault - you need to have your oven checked.

quote by Delia Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX...by talile ali

DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX

GRAB ME BY THE HAND
MAKE ME UNDERSTAND
HAD A MASTER PLAN
THE USE OF ALL OUR GLANDS

UP AND DOWN SHE GOES
OH HOW THE LADY KNOWS
WHAT TO STROKE AND WHAT TO BITE
THE LADY KNOWS JUST WHAT I LIKE

DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX ME PLEASE
YOU GOT ME ON MY ACHING KNEES
YOU KNOW I WANT IT ALL THE TIME
THE WAY YOU DO ME, MAKE'S ME SHINE

PEEL MY ONION
WHILE YOU MAKE ME CREAM
A LIL BIT A ME
AND A WHOLE BUNCHA STEAM
I LIKE YOUR LOVIN ME
AFTER LUNCH
ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE DOIN
ME A WHOLE BUNCH

LIKE DIRTY DANCIN
LIKE NAKED PRANCIN
AND THAT ALL
DAY ROMANCIN

NEED YOUR FUNKY LOVIN
DEEP INSIDE YOUR OVEN
NEED YOU NOW TO
BAKE MY LUSTS AWAY

I GOT THE RIGHT BREAD FOR YOUR OVEN
BAKED HARD WITH YOUR LOVIN
ENCUBATED BY YOUR NEED
TO PLEASE

WHILE MY LIPS ADDRESS YOUR BUST
I SIMPLY TURN TO DUST
IN THE ECSTACY OF
YOUR NEEDS

GET YOU NAKED IN MY BED
GRIND THEM LIPS AROUND MY HEAD
TILL YOUR HIPS ARE HARD AND FULL

READY FOR MY TAFFY PULL, BABY
LET MY GRIP COME ADDRESS YOUR WOOL, BABY

poem by Talile Ali
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Sackcloth

I made sackcloth my garment once, by cutting
arm and neck holes into a burlap bag.
A croker sack they called it. Sackdragger
they called the man who dragged a croker sack
between the cotton rows to pick. He dragged
a gunnysack behind him in the ditch
collecting empties. Him they chose
the Likeliest to Sack Seed in the feed store,
or to suck seed. He was your daddy. He sacked
groceries part-time, and they jeered:
you sorry sack of shit. Sackcloth,
which Job sewed upon his skin, was goat hair.
God who clothed the heavens with such blackness
said, I make sackcloth their covering.
Isaiah understood. God had him speak a word
in season to the weary. Speak, Isaiah, now, to me.
Before the stars like green figs in a windstorm
drop, the sun is black as sackcloth, and the moon
becomes as blood. My soul is weary. Speak,
Isaiah. Sing. I was a scholar as a boy:
I cut the neck and arm holes into the burlap,
pulled it on, and cinched it with a hank of rope:
what I have done from then till now is itch.

poem by Brooks Haxton
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A Oven Liet

Where the flesh goes,
The mind follows.

The body is weak.
Why she left me alone.
How she got sick.
And no one calls the phone.

Never had to cook with her around
Now I found a light in the most unexpected place
The oven.

I sit in the dark tonight
In the kitchen
With only the oven light
While I try to mend.

And I brood like a chicken with her eggs
My seat feels like it's hatching
My bottom is burning
My soul squirming like a worm
Or a snake.

Yellow.
The color of companionship.
Cowardly, fearful, impertinent.
I stare into the oven

Light.

poem by Eon Ezkiel
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