Whoever buys a house must examine the beams; whoever wants a wife must look at her mother.
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Her Terms
My wedded life
Must every pleasure bring
On scale extensive!
If I'm your wife
I must have everything
That's most expensive -
A lady's-maid -
(My hair alone to do
I am not able) -
And I'm afraid
I've been accustomed to
A first-rate table.
These things one must consider when one marries -
And everything I wear must come from Paris!
Oh, think of that!
Oh, think of that!
I can't wear anything that's not from Paris!
From top to toes
Quite Frenchified I am,
If you examine.
And then - who knows? -
Perhaps some day a fam -
Perhaps a famine!
My argument's correct, if you examine,
What should we do, if there should come a f-famine!
Though in green pea
Yourself you needn't stint
In July sunny,
In Januaree
It really costs a mint -
A mint of money!
No lamb for us -
House lamb at Christmas sells
At prices handsome:
Asparagus,
In winter, parallels
A Monarch's ransom:
When purse to bread and butter barely reaches,
What is your wife to do for hot-house peaches?
Ah! tell me that!
Ah! tell me that!
What IS your wife to do for hot-house peaches?
Your heart and hand
Though at my feet you lay,
All others scorning!
As matters stand,
There's nothing now to say
Except - good morning!
Though virtue be a husband's best adorning,
That won't pay rates and taxes - so, good morning!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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When buying a house, check the beams; when choosing a wife; check the mother.
Examination
Abolish examination.
And who are you to take examination?
Do you know whom to examine
And how to examine?
If you are so keen to take examination
Examine yourself first.
It is not easy to examine self
And pass the examination
scoring top.
Examine self while alone
Alone at night
Alone at bed.
Dare not examine others and
Dare not examine especially children.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The long time support
My mother loves me more than my wife.
I love my mother more than my wife.
I have decided to lean on my wife,
A stake lasting longer than my mother.
08.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who Buys My Thought?
Who buys my thought buys not a bottle of honey
But strands of a hopeless future bottled up.
A future that is threatened
By mortal diseases threatened
The future of the African child.
Of eyes that look out and see an endangered tomorrow threatening an already imagined better future.
Who buys my thought buys not a haven of peace and bliss
But of battling thoughts.
Thoughts of what the future would be
The tomorrow of the African child.
Who buys my thought buys a strenous desire for a better tomorrow
A better tomorrow for the African child
Who buys my thought?
poem by Mabel C. Mozie
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Devil world
my wife and
my mother
fight
every day
at home
some time
on street
i did not ask
my mother
i am asking something
only my wife
wife say 'your mother
was bad...nasty...'
some bad words
my mother also
comment 'your wife bad
irrresptable person...'
many bad things
i was sad
too sad
i am not leaving on
earth
that time
i was leaving on
devil world...
you also leave
love devil
live devils...
for only my children...
for my states...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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To All Future Husbands
No matter
How much
I educate
My daughter,
If she's not
A good cook
Nor a good
Whore to you
In bed, you
Wouldn't fancy her.
It's the age of
Equality.
If you want your
Wife to work
And bring in
Money…
Why not ask
Your mothers
To teach you
Some cooking
And cleaning
So you can
Share the
Housework.
Instead of being
Brought up
To think
That no matter,
How much
Your wife
Works…
She'll always be
Up and ready,
To do all the
Serving…
And you, the
Lord of the house,
The most deserving,
Unflurried by the fact
That - to be the lady
Of the house, being
A mother, a wife,
A daughter-in-law,
Is Oh! So! Nerve-wracking,
So very tiring, for a woman
Working…
(Theme: Message)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Sorry, mother
Mother! I love you more than my wife.
Mother! You love me more than my wife does.
Mother! You will not outlive my wife,
Whom I need to lean on after you.
Sorry! I am listening to my wife.
23.07.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 15
The beautiful wife of a man died but her mother, a decrepit old hag, remained in the house on account of the dowry. The man saw no means of escaping from contact with her until a company of friends paid him a visit of condolence and one of them asked him how he bore the loss of his beloved. He replied: ‘It is not as painful not to see my wife as to see the mother of my wife.’
The rose has been destroyed and the thorn remained.
The treasure has been taken and the serpent left.
It is better that one’s eye be fixed on a spear-head
Than that it should behold the face of an enemy.
It is incumbent to sever connection with a thousand friends
Rather than to behold a single foe.
My Real Goddess
Today my mother
Came to my house
With lots of blessing
And full of good wishing
To live long
Happy and healthy
Progressive and wealthy
My mother
My sweet mother
My beautiful mother
My loving mother
My real goddess
My ever goodness
My first lady I loved
My life my mother
My soul my mother
My God-gift my mother
My pride my mother
My aim my mother
My teacher my mother
My friend my mother
My preacher my mother
My daughter's face look-like my mother
My daughter my little mother
O the Absolute Almighty
Give me my mother
Again and again
And again and again
My mother
Only my mother.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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Wife is vulnerable
He buys his wife what she wants
And finds no need to show love.
Someone shows his wife care and love
And abstain from giving gifts.
12.10.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother and wife
Mother by all is a giver.
Wife by all is a taker.
You regard more the latter
As she is your child’s mother.
Mother is the shell;
Wife is the endosperm
30.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Photos
He told me
His wife's
Expenses
Have skyrocketed
Over the years…
I asked him why
To answer my why
He talked of
Clothes and costumes…
Jewellery and cosmetics
That his wife buys
And those endless
Series of beauty therapies
She undergoes…
To keep updating her
Facebook photos ;)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Mothers’ Day ‘08
North or south; east or west;
A mother’s love is always best!
Throughout its childhood, cleaned and dressed,
A mother gives baby, good rest.
A mother is the love-pillar;
A father is the source of strength;
A child is like caterpillar,
Metamorphosing in its length!
A mother keeps the home happy;
A mother cleans the babe’s nappy;
A mother tends to dear daddy;
A mom-less home cannot be sweet!
The angel in the house is mom!
The toiler of the home is mom;
The cleaner in the house is mom;
She knows all problems but keeps mum!
The chief-cook in the house is mom;
The teacher in the house is mom;
The care-taker is also mom;
She knowingly is sometimes dumb!
A spoilt-kid’s mom had spared the rod;
As children’s friend, mother looks odd;
For most things, mothers give the nod;
A mother is a demi-god!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-11-2008
poem by John Celes
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(Mother poems) To his mother the kitchen meit
Mother, Mother
D'you see that there
Beer hall
I don't want to go there
Mother, mother
Do you see those there boys and girls
Into that abandoned house they go
To make babies as if baby making
Is going out of fashion
Protect me mother I don't
Want to run with the wrong crowd
Mother, mother
Do you see that man
He carries death
In the bulging bag slung casually on his
Broad shoulders
He sells drugs and illicit booze
Stand close to me mum I don't want
To fall into the clutches of the bootleggers
And the merchants of death the drug lords
Mother, mother
Do you see that inviting
Jail house
Be with me mother
Give me the tons of your love
I don't want to miss you in jail
Mother, mother
Do you see that silent cemetery
Stand by my side mother
For I am scarred
And the cemetery is so silent
So discouraging for those who don't
Want to die young
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Woman branches.
Spouses of sisters are at ease
In each other’s house.
Brothers aren’t at that ease
In each other’s house.
Mother’s mother is like mother.
Father’s mother trails behind
Relations branch out from women.
06.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother’s vacuum stays.
Mother is more concerned for son
His wife cannot match her.
Wife is more concerned for her child
Yet, one goes after one’s wife
And wakes up when mother is no more.
23.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Yet I Am A Mother
18years is all I am and yet I am a mother
A mother so young
A mother so immature
A mother who can't take care of the responsibilities
But yet I am a mother
A mother who bergs from parents when she's in need
But what was I doing not thinking about the consequences of my action leaving todays and not tomorrow's satisfaction.
One visit to his house and now I am a mother
A mother so young
A mother still in school
A mother so immature.
poem by Nomusa Promise Ndimande
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A House Without Stairs
do not say
that without the stairs
the house is not a house anymore
without the ceiling
the more the house becomes to me
take the roof
if you want
or the beams
or even the floor and window frames
my house will still be a house
the sky its roof
the stretching grassy plain its floor
all the stars become
my magnificent ceiling
whatever is taken
we must imagine that all things are still there
lest we only have a house
that crashes on the floor
with all of us
dead
crushed to the death of
our imaginations
a door without an exit
because you have not seen hope coming
the lock and key
are all in the mind and heart
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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