The Opposing Sex
The Widows of Ashur
Are loud in their wailing:
'No longer the 'masher'
Sees Widows of Ashur!'
So each is a lasher
Of Man's smallest failing.
The Widows of Ashur
Are loud in their wailing.
The Cave of Adullam,
That home of reviling
No wooing can gull 'em
In Cave of Adullam.
No angel can lull 'em
To cease their defiling
The Cave of Adullam,
That home of reviling.
At men they are cursing
The Widows of Ashur;
Themselves, too, for nursing
The men they are cursing.
The praise they're rehearsing
Of every slasher
At men. _They_ are cursing
The Widows of Ashur.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Related quotes
Continuous persecution of widows and orphans is a crime. Even the Bible says there is a specific place in hell for those who oppress widows.
quote by Imelda Marcos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Destruction of Sennacherib
I
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
II
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd,
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
III
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpets unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
poem by Byron (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Adullam
To the cave of Adullam and to the cave of my lover,
I grieve for you my lover!
For you were very dear to my heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet: On Widows
My heart feels truly sorry for widows,
Who're young and lose their husbands suddenly;
What quirk of fate has given them such woes?
-Of solitude, sexlessness forcefully.
My mind is angered yet, when I behold,
A frantic widow searching for a mate!
Her heart is cold, vixen-like, she is bold;
A female-spider-like, she waits to bait.
My God, how pangs of sex affect women,
Who've tasted love's magic potion on bed?
The widows are much worse off than such men,
Their bosom's fire aren't so easily dead.
Yet, how will widows fight their love onslaughts?
-Companionless, for life, on empty cots?
poem by John Celes
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Worth A Shot
What kind of lottery have we won?
When we are here having fun
War-torn countries at the end of a gun
Where the dying has just begun
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
Contemplate this, it would be a start
With wisdom and effort we may impart
For someone’s existence, a piece of our heart
Making a difference before we depart
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
Corporate America are you hearing this?
Can anyone see how they are so remiss?
Reaping millions where ignorance is bliss
Their dollars filling their own void, an abyss
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
It’s what we do with what we’ve got
It’s who we help with who knows what
It’s sharing with those who have not
Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?
poem by Rose Falcone
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Minta
Nursing infants,
Yahweh will accomplish His promise to all;
So let your faith be strong and move on.
Minta my lover,
I am going into the forest of Hereth!
And, i will bring you positive message on my return,
For, the muse of your love is like the cave of Adullam.
Minta my lover,
life is like the dust at the threshing time!
But, people do quote false quotations from their fake Bilbles;
However, it is not easy to defend such people because,
They've already chosen the path they believe in.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I wonder who was this guy...! ! ! ! !
I wonder why…
Am I denied
A ride on the swing.
I wonder why…
Am I deprived
Of Colours in my life.
I wonder why…
My bangles were broken
And my bindi wiped…
I wonder why…
On my birth, my parents
Cursed their fate.
I wonder why…
Why am I alive
If all wait for me to die.
I wonder why…
I am not allowed
To play like a child.
I wonder why…
When I can speak
I have no voice.
I wonder why…
I was given in marriage
When I had not come of age.
I wonder why…
I have to wear white
And people want me out of sight.
I wonder why…
They call me a widow
And even hate my shadow.
I wonder why...
do I have to mourn and cry
for an unknown guy.
I wonder why…
am condemned
to pretend to live.. am dead
Written after reading an article in a leading Indian magazine, about the plight of child widows, in Desert state of Rajasthan. It’s a long dark tunnel for thousands of child
Widows. Govt. doesn't even have census figures
Mamta Agarwal
12.04.09
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Widows And Warriors
Widows and Warriors
On the plateau a file of women, all in black,
war widows waiting to be given tea, bread
and rice from two men in a pickup truck.
The men spoke hoarsely, scurrying them on,
found their work shameful, would rather have
been up on the mountain fighting, thought
the women superfluous. They had given birth
to sons who now fought in war and to daughters
married to warriors on the mountain.
The women didn’t look the men in the eyes,
spoke softly and briefly amongst themselves
about the health of their grandchildren. They
had miles to walk, back down to meagre soil
and skinny goats.
Soul to Soul is a literary journal
Editor/Publisher: Joneve McCormick
Written by Jan Oskar Hansen
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Widows weep but they look for another husband.
South American proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Girls marry to please parents, widows to please themselves.
Widows comfort themselves when they remarry, widowers take revenge.
Widows are divided into two classes; the bereaved and the relieved.
quote by Victor Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are three kinds of person that you must not challenge: civil servants, customers and widows.
When widows exclaim loudly against second marriages, I would always lay a wager than the man, If not the wedding day, is absolutely fixed on.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid
If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.
A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind
A widow is froward, and never will yield;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld.
A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And, cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave.
A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose
When it first beginneth the bud to unclose;
But a widow full-blowen full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.
The widows be lovely, I never gainsay,
But too well all their beauty they know to display;
But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store,
She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.
Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any, it asketh much care;
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Lora
Everything have been settled and i want your muse,
And like Mama's cry in the land of widows;
But Lora will meet you next week.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It's always the generals with the bloodiest records who are the first to shout what a hell it is. And it's always the war widows who lead the Memorial Day parades.
quote by Paddy Chayefsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The End Of His World
The sky's as dark as murderers hearts
Waiting stalking
She didn't know he was gunna die
The earth it screams
As bullets fire upon the innocent
She didnt know he was gonna die
The end of his world is here
The seas' as red as the you man's blood
Dripping from his forehead
The winds as cold as his widows eyes
When she finds out her lover won't be coming home
song performed by by Zao from Zao
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reentry of chance
Four women who were in love with me
In my youth have now become widows
In succession after fifty years.
Not a widower as I'm, I am helpless.
23.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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