En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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I Am Not Sorry No She Said

I am not sorry no she said
That my ex son in law is dead
He gave to my daughter a hard life
And she to him was a good wife.

It may seem a callous thing of me to say
That I'm not sorry he's out of the way
For without him my daughter will survive
And in fact I'd like to think she'll thrive.

And though I feel her years with him were wasted years
My daughter sheds her grief in tears
To him she was a good wife and a good friend
And she stayed with him right to the end.

Whatever in him did she see
I find it way far beyond me
For to understand the workings of humanity
For they were different as can be.

She said as for myself I've been lucky in life
Lucky to be a good man's wife
But our daughter good of heart and kind
In love and marriage happiness failed to find.

Her feelings she is not afraid to own
When she said the rudest man that I've ever known
And I am not sorry no she said
That my ex son in law is dead.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm My Own Grandpa

It was many many years ago when I was twenty-three,
I was married to a widow, she's as pretty as can be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red,
my father fell in lover with her, and soon these two were wed.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life:
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife.
And then to complicate the matter, though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

This bouncing baby then became a brother-in-law to dad,
and so became my uncle, though it made me very sad,
for if he was my uncle then he also was the brother
of the widow's grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my step-mother.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue,
because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother, too.

Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
Husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alankar (Decor) -30

Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)

How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult

How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Sonnet: A Man’s Life Is His Wife

How can one be unkind to one’s one wife,
The better-half who shares his joys and grief?
The woman ’hind the success in his life,
Who serves him lovingly though life is brief?

The share of toil she renders is far great;
From child rearing to cooking, loving chores;
She dons the family’s problems as her fate;
Her life gets spent like house-arrest ’hind doors.

How can a man to wife be ungrateful?
His wife’s a shadow of his own image!
No husband good can be to her hateful;
In both his eyes remains his wife’s visage!

How then can man be unkind to his wife?
The better shouldn’t be kept bitter all life.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Matter, Never Min

What said No Matter, Never Mind
By Gary Snyder
What if
Once Said
Mind is equal to Matter
Matter of origin is dance
The Father is the Voild
The wife Waves

Their child is Matter.

Matter makes it with the mother
And their child is Life,
a daughter.

The Daughter is the Great Mother
Who, wuth her father/brother Matter
as her lover,

Give birth to the Mind.
Mind contains a poem.
Poem is Empty

poem by Kyungdae Min
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Who is a wife?

Who is a wife?
Who can be a virtuous wife?
Who is a wife?
Who can stand the strife
To be a wife?

There is a woman
And there is a wife
Any one can be a woman
But not any one can be a wife

A wife will stand for her pride
A woman will always want a ride
A wife will say
“we ‘ll have a say”
A woman will say
“I ‘ld have a say”
A wife will say
“WE bought you those”
A woman will say
“Mom bought you those”
A wife would say
“We share the bills”
A woman would say
“I share the bills”

A wife cooks what “we” like
A woman cooks what “I” like.
A wife loves unconditionally
A woman loves conditionally
A wife always stands by…
A woman sometimes stands by…
A wife thinks about “us”
A woman thinks about “me”
A wife supports the plans
A woman plans the supports
A wife keeps the relationship
A woman snubs the relationship
A WIFE IS OPPOSITE OF A WOMAN

Who then is a wife?
Amidst all my strife
I‘ve found a darling wife
You too can, if you also tried.

poem by Jr. J.Lakie Kollie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Age Demaned

The age demanded chiefly a mould in plaster,
Made with no loss of time
No matter, never mind
Do you know
Gary Snyder's poetry as follows:
The Father is the void
The wife Waves
Their child is Matter.
Matter makes it with his mother
And their child is Life,
a daughter.

The daughter is the Great Mother
Who, with her father/brother Matter
as her lover,
Give birth to the Mind.
This is DNA poem.
Language is Foxp2

poem by Kyungdae Min
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cook Of The House

Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.

song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maggie and Max

Our son married a flibbertygibbet,
my wife says, and I agree,
but he loves Maggie very much
so I say let's keep quiet.
It's not our place to criticize.
Max is 33, and not long
back from Iraq.
I remind my wife
that Maggie can cook
better than most

so let's give her a chance.
Max works two jobs
and he's never home.
Maggie's young.
Maybe the baby will help
but I doubt it.
Too bad Maggie
didn't take to quilting,
my wife points out.
The ladies at church

did their best to teach her.
But quilters, I remind her,
don't go out at midnight
to places nobody knows.
My wife keeps asking
why Max married Maggie.
I don't know what to say.
Finally I tell her I never saw
any woman walk like Maggie.
My wife says I never will.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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The Adulterous Wife

As her Children sleep in their bed
While her husband lays down his sleepy head
She quietly gets up and starts continuing her lies,
As this is the story, of the Adulterous wife.
She lies and cheats and do the sins that she shouldn't,
Sadly though, this isn't the first time for this woman
As in her past she has done this all before
Sadly her husband didn't know, that he had married a whore.
As when he is at work, she was never at home
And when her girl's slept, she was never alone
She lied and cheated and used her husband for a price
As this is the story of the Adulterous wife.
She sneaks out of the house whenever she can
So she can jump in the bed of another man
He then uses her, and then she lies to him
But neither can lie to GOD, when their beginning becomes their end.
And when her daughter's get older and they feel the strife
I wander if they will be like their mother, the adulterous wife
She argues and fights with her husband all the time
Loyalty and love to her husband has been left far behind.
The vow she swore to GOD she has broke it once again
Now she is a marked woman, in front of women and men
She has affairs with her lovers, that only the devil could believe
Asking them to come and rescue her, and set herself free.
She is never happy unless she is in another mans bed
Only happiness she brings that man, is when he is dead
She tells her lies and say all her men of hers are abusers
But she never let them know, that she is but a user.
And she'll keep her lies from yesterday unto today
And while she sins, other men lay down to pray
How sad it is to live that type of sinful life
But this is the true story of the Adulterous wife.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Togetherness Is Gone

My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me

My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired

My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home

My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired

My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early

My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast

My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet

My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?

My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?

My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends

My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume

My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear

My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?

My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?

poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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On Any Other Day

You want something corny?
You got it
Theres a house on my street
And it looks real neat
Im the chap who lives in it
Theres a tree on the sidewalk
Theres a car by the door
Ill go for a drive in it
And when the wombat comes
He will find me gone
Hell look for a place to sit
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
Cut off my fingers in the
Door of my car
How could I do it?
My wife is proud to tell me
Of her love affairs
How could she do this to me?
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
Throw down the morning papers
And spill my tea
I dont know whats wrong with me
The cups and plates are in a
Conspiracy
Im covered in misery
My wife has burned the scrambled eggs
The dog just bit my leg
My teenage daughter ran away
My fine young son has turned out gay
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day
And it would be ok on any other day

song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning in our Family

Morning in our Family

“Ok, bye Daddy, I’m going”
Floats across the drawing room
From my daughter, dressed in sari.

Blue and greed are SCB colours,
Where she works for last 12 years,
Now looks like a walking Bank!

Very few MBAs stick to same job
Greed impels them, and fear of stagnating,
She is of a different breed!

Money doesn’t matter much to her
She spends freely; gives generously;
Saves minimum; behaves like a non-MBA.

My wife is on the other sofa,
Talking to Zorro and the other cats
By turn, but fond and proud of her daughter.

Joti leaves early in the morning to Bank
Via Gym in Churchgate, and she and wife
Reach back home only after 9 o’clock.

I go to office in the morning, in past
After going to gym or swim or both,
But not now for I seem to overexercise.

poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Death Threats

You're threatening my life?
Because I won't give you my money for taking care of my mother.
Let me understand this right.
You owe taxes on the house your currently staying.
You owe money to the V.A. acquired for her.
You receive 1100 a month in her pension.
You married my sister
You make 25 an hour, and your wife make 34 an hour.
You already drained all our mothers saving accounts.
You took everything out of my moms house and sold it..
How dare you.
I'm losing my house and already lost my mothers.
No thanks to your kids.
Who did so much damage to hers.
That I went bankrupt in all the repairs.
Yet you still believe I owe you more.
I am her power of attorney, that doesn't mean I have to work for you..
If you think I have a check ready and waiting.
You are sadly mistaken.
If you come to my house be prepared to leave abruptly by the sound of gun fire.
Your children even hate you.
You made them your slaves by the giving them the abuse you so craved.
My mother took pictures which really pissed off my sister.
Always on the drugs, how do you think it will look if you come to my house high making death threats.
Do you think that is something I will regret?
But don't fret its only a lean.
Till debts are repaid.
Oh I'm just letting you know I'm not afraid.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Price Of Dead Love

His marriage is over but he has no tears
For the woman he was married to for just over two years
Though he miss his baby daughter when he comes home from work at night
In his marriage she was his one source of delight.

She is with his ex wife her mother who lives with her new man
And for him in her life his ex has only one plan
That he pay his alimony to her on Friday of every week
They no longer have common ground on which to speak.

On their wedding day he thought 'twould be for life
He was so in love with his beautiful wife
But just after two years of marriage love between them is dead
That the ways of love can be fickle no truer words said.

That his ex wife has left him for another he finds that as okay
But he misses his baby daughter when he comes home from work every day
That life has it's ups and downs it's always been this way
And the price of dead love it can be high to pay.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Quiet House on Christmas Eve

The dog and cats are still
Wife and daughter in bed
The kid with presents on her head
Those things that make us grow
Till wisdom comes and helps us so
We understand the action is not with our toys.
Instead its with our joys
So wife and daughter are the greatest blessings
And after that the cat, and dog and fish
But I only have one wish
That Santa soon would come
And with his work finally done
I can go to bed. Amen.

poem by Bill Grace
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Hes A Go Getter

Hes a go getter, go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Now Ive got a neighbor that lives down the road a ways
His wife holds down a steady job, he dont turn his hand all day
I know that most of you will know the kind Im talkin about
The kind that rather than have to work, hed rather do without
But hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Theres a group of men in the court house yard any time that you go by
Playin checkers and tradin odds and makin jokes about their wives
They wait all week for pay day and they hold the moneys plenty
And the wife thats worked those long hard hours never gets a penny
But hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Yes hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outside Woman Blues

By arthur blind willie reynolds
If you lose your money, great god, dont lose your mind.
If you lose your money, great god, dont lose your mind.
And if you lose your woman, please dont fool with mine.
Im gonna buy me a bulldog, watch my lady whilst I sleep.
Im gonna buy me a bulldog, watch my lady whilst I sleep.
cause women these days, theyre so doggone crooked,
That they might make off fore day creep.
Well, you cant watch your wife and your outside women, too.
You know you cant watch your wife and your outside womens, too.
Cause when youre out with your women, your wife will be at home,
Cooking your food, doing a dirt, buddy what you trying to do?
You cant watch your wife and your outside womens, too.
You know you cant watch your wife and your outside women, too.
When youre out with your women, your wife will be at home,
Doing a dirt, cooking your food, buddy what you trying to do?

song performed by by Cream
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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