I know you've been married to the same woman for 69 years. That is marvellous. It must be very inexpensive.
quote by Charles Stuart Calverley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know you've been married to the same woman for 69 years. That is marvelous. It must be very inexpensive.
quote by Johnny Carson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fake Doctor
The fake doctor raped the married woman! !
For he saw the beauty of the woman and moved his libido;
But this married woman consulted him for an advice,
And he said that the devil made him did that.
Who did the act?
Was it the devil or this man?
And the unsuspecting victim was a married woman;
But the fake doctor raped her.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Story Of A Marriage Counselor
..he is a simple man
married to an ordinary woman
the man teaches science
the woman serves as legal clerk
25 years married without a child
so they adopted the baby place beside their door
they did not know where the baby came from
they say she is a gift from God
the girl for what genes she has
turned into a woman with hysteria like Ida Bauer
got pregnant
but cannot pinpoint who from among her three lovers is the father of her child
the simple couple now gets a grandchild
so glad
the new baby has not father to speak of
they go back to the cycle
the beginning about the pleasure that the baby once left beside the fence
gave them
unspeakable bliss
of course, this shall not be
a sad story
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Calving Cow is More A Beauty
Dear Aditi Gowtrikar,
You are Mrs. World 2001.
Before you were crowned,
I knew you as a model
And took you as a damsel.
I was mad under your spell.
Had not you been married,
Had not you calved,
Could you be that captive?
Doubtful.
A married woman and
A mother-woman
Are more in glow.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It used to be that you came out of school, and you got married - those who were going to get married. But my peers are getting married in their early 30s, so now there's like this extra 10 years of that angst.
quote by Zach Braff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hoy 613
I am married to an Ethiopian woman and,
You are very much worried about it;
But the code for your salvation is 'HOY 613' and,
I will keep on holding on for this love.
The stone is a witness against you and,
Of the flint knives of circumcision around you;
But, she was a very beautiful woman to meet at last.
I know that you are a peaceful and a humble man,
But she was a virgin and i married her!
And i took her to save her name among the lot.
Bring your loot of stray animals back to me and,
Let me take you to a place called the 'Caller's Spring';
For the malak of Yahweh called me from heaven and,
I answered him with the care of this woman.
'HOY 613',
Do not hang them out in the broad day light;
For i keep on searching to get my taste and,
I need this woman beside me always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Love Story(9) (Life Brightened By Many Husbands)
She is a 107-year-old woman.
4 years ago, she was married to her 22nd husband.
Now she feels so insecure
cos he might leave her for a new lover.
Now she is seeking her 23rd new man
though she is wrinkle-faced centenarian.
She holds the worlds' most married record
by tying and untying the marital knot.
Without a husband, she feels so forlorn
so seeking a new one never adjourned.
Why does a woman work ten years to change a man's habits and then complain that he's not the man she married?
quote by Barbra Streisand
Submitted by anonym
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320
it happens all the time
when the right man feels
that he has wed the wrong woman
when the wrong woman too
feels that he has
wed the wrong man,
mutuality of affections
on errors
i sometimes feel that too
and i ask again
have i married the wrong woman?
have i been the right man
claiming all along that i am
the right man?
why? did the trials not work
for both of us?
twelve years
the feeling about right and wrong is over now
i wake up early dawn
still sleeping beside her
at least in the silent lonely hours of my life
i have this companion
and she is warm beside me
and then i think again
she can be right
and i can be wrong
who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Wrong Woman For The Man Who Feels He Is The Right Man
it happens all the time
when the right man feels
that he has wed the wrong woman
when the wrong woman too
feels that he has
wed the wrong man,
mutuality of affections
on errors
i sometimes feel that too
and i ask again
have i married the wrong woman?
have i been the right man
claiming all along that i am
the right man?
why? did the trials not work
for both of us?
twelve years
the feeling about right and wrong is over now
i wake up early dawn
still sleeping beside her
at least in the silent lonely hours of my life
i have this companion
and she is warm beside me
and then i think again
she can be right
and i can be wrong
who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jean Hickey
Jean Hickey than me is a few years older I knew her long before she met and married Ted O Shea
And she went to live in Finnanefield in Kilcorney from Inchaleigh in Millstreet five or six miles away
I have not seen her for years but her I will remember until the reaper gives the call to me
Good people like her one does not wish to forget and she did not fade from my memory.
Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever the quiet achiever in her own quiet way
She has helped so many people in their times of illness though of her good deeds she never has much to say
A nurse who is devoted to her calling and in her kind heart there is only good
And people like her invaluable to society for she would only help you if she could.
In the year 06 she will retire as a District Nurse and from the call of duty she will have earned her rest
And it will take a special person to replace her for at her job she is one of the best
But as we know people do not last forever and retirement one day comes to one and all
Though Jean she played her part and in no small way and she was there to answer every call.
In the year 06 from Nursing she's retiring one well might say a rest she is overdue
Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever and to the corporal works of mercy she is true
In her years as district nurse she has cared for many ill people and the story of her life ought to be told
And of this marvellous woman it can be said that she is truly worth her weight in gold.
poem by Francis Duggan
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There's nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman. It's a thing no married man knows anything about.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman. It is a thing no married man knows anything about.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Visalakshi-2
Her husband died of a car accident.
It took place about three years ago.
Now she is free of encumbrances.
Hence I could talk to her as freely as
I did fifty two years back in her village
Where I met her, where we fell for each other.
I managed to get her phone number.
The last meeting of us was in her house
With her spouse, some twenty years ago.
She has married seven years after
Our episode, in the year I married,
Both being unaware of each other.
I saw her there after thirty two years
By when a lemon skinned beauty queen
Has turned into a dry skinned wrinkles.
I got her over phone and shared her grief.
She was upset, implying her bond with him.
She declined my offer of any meeting,
However incidental it might be.
‘Let us forget ours as a child game
With no renewal at this stage and age’
She said. Anxiety driven, she enquired
About me and family and my life.
Now she is seventy and weak as she told.
She is as old as me who am still robust.
It means we both were sweet seventeen
When we loved each other that went to
Being together with clothes stripped of
In her bolted room with a resolution
To elope, till we were caught red handed.
How quick a woman vomits her ex lover!
24.06.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Nellie Clark
I was only eight years old;
And before I grew up and knew what it meant
I had no words for it, except
That I was frightened and told my Mother;
And that my Father got a pistol
And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy,
Fifteen years old, except for his Mother.
Nevertheless the story clung to me.
But the man who married me, a widower of thirty-five,
Was a newcomer and never heard it
Till two years after we were married.
Then he considered himself cheated,
And the village agreed that I was not really a virgin.
Well, he deserted me, and I died
The following winter.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Happy To Live On Her Own
For twenty years married to a horrible man
In human years that does seem quite a long span
Her son and her daughter eighteen and nineteen
One might say that her better days she has seen.
A woman who does know about male abuse
Her husband when drunk often beat her though that's not an excuse
For such criminal behaviour to his beautiful wife
Some women with men have a terrible life.
He was not a good husband and a rotten dad
Herself and their children he did treat so bad
That he has left her for another she does feel quite glad
Though for his new woman she feels a bit sad.
She knows all about the anger of a man
And to marry again it is not in her plan
Some hard times in life one can say she has known
And now she is happy to live on her own.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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at the train station somewhere in Canada
and so it was evening
a Kenyan woman asks you if you are Chinese
and if you are married and if you have kids
& how many
on the pavement just below the bench
a white man is drunk
and could not carry himself back
on his feet
the Kenyan woman asks if you are waiting
for someone
and you point to the white man
who wriggles to signify that he still
hears both of you
talking about him
the train arrives and you both go inside
the Kenyan woman and you
you tell her that you are not Chinese
you are not married
and that you simply want to go back home
she says her teen age child is lost.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jack
Jack was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
He worked thirty years on the railroad, ten hours a day, and his hands were tougher than sole leather.
He married a tough woman and they had eight children and the woman died and the children grew up and went away and wrote the old man every two years.
He died in the poorhouse sitting on a bench in the sun telling reminiscences to other old men whose women were dead and children scattered.
There was joy on his face when he died as there was joy on his face when he lived—he was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Part only
Creation yours
Part only what
We perceive
No body has power
To alter to change
To modify to stop
Creation that is
On and on.
Marvellous
And marvellous
Is this creation
The sounds here
The pictures
The water the air
And inhabitants
All are marvellous.
Do not try to understand
This creation
You can not
You only a part
And a part
can not explain
About the whole.
The whole is
The whole.
I am also a
Part and a
Part only.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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