Everything I’ll Ever Need
For My Wife
I’m writing this poem to tell you
Just how much you mean to me
I’m writing to say I love you
Sentimental as that may be
Your more precious than any gift
That I will ever receive
Your my morning, my night
And the air that I breathe
You’re the mother of our children
A friend when I’m lonely
Your strong when I am weak
Your everything I’ll ever need
You’re the ray of sunshine
When I wake each day
With fingers gently on my brow
You take all my troubles away
You’re my friend, my companion
But most all your my wife
You are what I live for
Each and everyday of my life
Your everything good in my world
And much, much more
There are no words to say how much
Your just everything I’ll ever need
29 Feb 1996
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Broken heart
Poets have broken hearts
My wife Tapaswini alleged
And without broken hearts
No one would be a poet
My wife Tapaswini clarified.
The poet wonders in his world
The poet work wonders through
His words and sentences
And my wife Tapaswini left
No space for my replied.
My wife Tapaswini left the place
Where I was and my wife Tapaswini
Could not reach me where I am
And the sparrow the crow all
Arranged their feast with joy
Where I am writing poem.
Where I was writing I was there
Where I am writing I am there
My wife Tapaswini always with me
I was not with my wife Tapaswini
While writing and the allegation
Of my wife Tapaswini I certified
And I attested One can take it granted.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Just live a good life
I wake up early this morning
Opening my computer
To read the emails and to
Write some thoughts in my mind
You pop out on the screen
With a big Good Day to me
You were fast on your pessimism
As I sip my coffee and read you
The world is ending
The climates changed
There is so much CO2
Humans have become
Slanderers and blasphemers
And God shall take his day
For this world’s destruction
I ask, if you have taken coffee
A pineapple juice or simply tea
I ask, if you had good sex last night
With your wife or someone else
I ask, if you are writing another poem
I ask, if you are taking a morning walk
With your dog or your son or daughter
I ask, if you have seen the sun rise
I ask, if you had a nice conversation
With a friend or an officemate
I ask, if you are living a good life
I ask, if you are being good and taking
Care of yourself, if you are praying, if
You are on the good side of the fence
You may not answer, I am taking a walk
I have just written a poem, I am answering
Emails of friends, I am seeing a beautiful
Sunrise today, its rays coming out from the trees.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Lonely or Alone
Don't think you're alone
Nobody's alone in this world
If you don't have friends than God is watching you
God is watching you and protecting you everyday
God doesn't want you to feel lonely
He wants you to be happy
God might send a person who wants to be your friend to you
Why?
God knows that you're lonely and he never wants anybody to be lonely
So He sends a companion that will be by your side everyday
To make you happy, support you, and to share their kindess to you
If you think you're alone and feel lonely
Maybe I could help too
I always love to make people happy
If you don't have any friends, maybe I could be your friend
Don't think you're lonely
If you do... think about what God thinks and what I think
God and I never want anybody to think they're alone and feel lonely
I would like to be everybody's friend
Because I know everybody has good and bad
Even I do
I have friends who are mean to me
But I'm their friend
Because I know that they can't be happy without me
I'm sad when they are sad
Even if they're harsh
I'll be their friend
A friend always to look out for and support everyday
So don't think you're alone because you're not.
Family
My friend
Marrage
Arranged my
Friend mother
Mother...
Lovingely moving
The family
Few months...
After some time
Each everyday;
Cook room
To
Bathroom
Shouting with fighting
My friend not ther....
My friend wife
To my friend mother...
Fighted with simple
Matter's
Shouting and fighting...
Family running only
For my friend silant
And the love
The wife and mother
So family running...
Happy was ache of
The family? ? ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Im Sorry
Sorry im writing this about you.
Sorry i love you
im sorry i want to make you a part of my life.
im sorry i want you next to me
im sorry i approached you.
I admire you, i love you, i need you.
Im sorry i want to make you my wife
im sorry i want to build a future with you i want to live with you, im sorry i want you to be mother of my children, i want to build a home with you im so sorry you the one i want to marry you.
I want to wake up next to you im so sorry i cant give up on you,
im sorry i cant sleep without talking to you im sorry but i consider you the one for me im so sorry
im sorry for you give me joy, i find peace im so sorry i love you so much
im sorry im THE LEGEND and you will be LEGENDARY wife
poem by Ernest Makuakua
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Friend, Lover, Sister, Mother/wife
If I ever held a hand
It was only because Id never held your hand
That was part of the plan
I had 2 get it right if I was 2 be your man
And if I ever kissed your lips
I needed time 2 cross the others off my list (off my list)
A higher high 2 the trip (trip)
I wanted u 2 go, that was my wish - yes it was
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
Air, food, water, love of my life
If I ever shared a bed
It was only cuz I wanted 2 live up 2 what the people said, oh yes
(what they say? ) {x5}
Now Im livin instead
Everyday just 2 say ure the only one whos in my head
(the only one) {x2}
Oh yes u are
And if I ever made u cry
All I have 2 do is think about it and I just wanna die (I just wanna die)
(I just wanna break down and die, die, die, die)
How Id ever make it by (I dont know) without u, baby (without u, baby)
I dont know (no!), I hope I never have 2 try, yeah
(please dont ever leave me)
Oh, listen 2 me
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
(my sweet, sweet friend, lover, sister, mother/wife)
Air, food, water, love of my life
The eyes of my child I see every time u look at me
(I see a sweet baby smile)
A sweet baby smile like a light that shines 4 all 2 see
(and if I ever held a hand) if I ever held a hand
Oh, twas only cuz Id never held yours
That was part of, part of the plan
I had 2 get it right (right) if I was 2 be your man because...
(ooh my) friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
(friend, lover, sister, mother/wife)
My, my, my, my air, my food, my water, love of my life (I love u)
(everlasting life)
Teacher (teacher), healer (healer), feeler (feeler), sight 4 sore eyes
(let me look at your eyes - ure so pretty)
Oh, yes u are, baby
(ooh my) dont u know ure my friend, my lover, my sister, love of my life (mother/wife)
Yeah, baby, yes u are
{te amo is I love u}
(ooh my) friend (te amo), lover (te amo), sister (te amo), mother/wife
(hug me, hug me, hug me baby, u are my life)
(Ill stay with u 4ever) {x2}
Till death do us part, baby (yes sir!)
Air (te amo), food (te amo), water (te amo), love (love of my life)
U are the only, only love of my life
My friend, lover, sister, mother/wife
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mail-Box
As you arrive in the morning
To your office, my dear
And check your mails
Without doubt you know
I’ll be there for you
Waiting to give you
The mail of the day.
May be a poem
Or a prose -
A quote or a photo
That touches me…
And I would wish to
Share with you.
Or as ever before
Like I write everyday
My Diary of yesterday.
You may read in a hurry
As you always do
For you may have
Many other
Errands to run to.
Yet, my dear
Let me say it to you
That all my letters
And words to you
Are written with care
And the precious time
That I love to spend
Writing to you…
It’s been like this
For the past many years
And I hope it would be
For many, many years
When you open your
Mail-Box
And find in it
Amongst all your mails
A letter from me.
Everyday, every morning
For all those years
Till the day you retire
From your daily
Commuting…
To that very same Office
Of your 20 years.
And the day you retire
After your service
Of two decades more
You’ll have some nice
Memories
Of working together
With your colleagues
Many sour ones too
Of those meetings
That failed
Those deadlines
That derailed
And some good savings
Of your life of work
And a repertoire of friends
That stayed with you
Through all these years…
May be in one of those
Bitter-sweet memories
You might remember me
That mail-box girl
Who used to write to you
So very diligently
Every day of her life
To feel close to you
To be as near you
As much as she could
From many miles away
With a lonely, longing heart
And so many words to say.
For she couldn’t be your wife,
Neither your mistress
Nor be at your side
As you struggled and you hobbled
Through your life’s major strifes.
She could only be
A mute witness -
To all what you endured.
She could feel the stresses
And the strains
Of those sleepless nights
That eating outside
Those early morning wake-ups
Of your tours and travels
Like a vagabond
Trying to balance it out
Between work and home.
And they say: You are Married.
Married to your wife
Or your company, I guess.
For most of your time
Is taken away
By those tours
And your travels
Of a working life
Sans your wife
Beside you…
On many such nights
And busy days too
When you would rather
Be a husband to your wife
Than be a work-horse
All your Life.
And slog and slog and slog…
Thinking you are indispensable
For your company.
Yet that day would dawn on you
As it comes for every man
When he realises
That the company whom he
Worked for
Cared for more than his family
That very same company
To survive and thrive
In this world of the Fittest
Goes seeking young-blood
And leaves you aside.
And at the end of the day
You then do realise
Was it really worth
Giving those extra hours
Everyday
To your office over-time
And missing out on
Your wife’s
Diary for the Day
Or all what your son
Had to Say
To a Daddy-Dear
He could hardly get to see.
As a friend of yours,
A well-wisher too
And in this one of my
Many mails
That I write everyday
To you…
I would suggest you:
Take care of your wife
Be with your son
For these are the days
You would miss very often
When you grow old
And look back
In retrospection
And find that those
Glorious days you spent
Upgrading your career
Position and status
In the Office.
Those will go one day
And someone else
Would take your place
And the company would
Still survive without you
As it has done
With people coming and going
In all such big MNCs
Yet once your wife
Grows old
And your son grows up too,
You’ll miss these “good old” days
When you missed seeing your son
Growing up
Into the young lad
He would become one day.
And your wife would also feel
As If -
She has grown too old, too soon
For neither youth was on her side
Nor the time
She wished to cherish
With you, in her conjugal life.
So her youth and her time
Both awaited you
As the hope of life
Awaits a dying woman
On her Death-Bed.
As for me, My Love
I’ve never had the Fate
To live with you
And would probably never have
The Destiny
To share with you
My Life.
And yet, the woman out there
Your betrothed wife
Is a woman like me
And your son out there
Is also like the son
I’ve borne in me…
So, I would always love you
To have a happy family
Take care of them, my love
And be with them
As often as you can.
For a job may come,
A job may go…
Yet a wife once lost
Or a son gone forever
Won’t come back to you
However much you repent
Or regret
Later on…
Thinking of the Whys and Hows
Of the jobs that you did
The tours and the travels
And the over-time
Your company Fixed
For you.
Always Remember…
You are married to your wife
And not to your company.
And your son needs
The “Daddy-Dear” in you
Even if he may not tell you
Often, every day.
So Care, Share
And Be There
For Them…
Trust Me – You’ll get many more returns
And far more contentment
As you look back
Over the years…
Of all those precious moments
You spent with your family
Than going for power, position
Fame and money
And being a lap-dog to your Company
By running after them.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Lonely Wife
A lonely Wife
Nice words said, sweet words spoken
Such a deep feeling love, or words just a token
She's comfortable with him, he's so good to her
She thinks it's love, a companion for life
She thought love would last, when he made her his wife
She has the whole world at her feet, she has nothing to fear anymore
No one screaming at her, no one beating her or knocking her to the floor
This must be the way love is meant to be
This is what marriage is like, she is finally free
Why does she find herself so sad and lonely
He loves her, she pledged her life to him only
What's wrong with her, she has everything
His loving her without showing it doesn't mean anything
She will continue life forever, as it stands
She has it so good now, living her life in his hands
She will never speak up about how she feels
With his kindness and love, she still heals
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Written Afterwards
So the days of my tramping are over,
And the days of my riding are done—
I’m about as content as a rover
Will ever be under the sun;
I write, after reading your letter—
My pipe with old memories rife—
And I feel in a mood that had better
Not meet the true eyes of the wife.
You must never admit a suggestion
That old things are good to recall;
You must never consider the question:
‘Was I happier then, after all?’
You must banish the old hope and sorrow
That make the sad pleasures of life,
You must live for To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be just to the wife.
I have changed since the first day I kissed her.
Which is due—Heaven bless her!—to her;
I’m respected and trusted—I’m ‘Mister,’
Addressed by the children as ‘Sir.’
And I feel the respect without feigning—
But you’d laugh the great laugh of your life
If you only saw me entertaining
An old lady friend of the wife.
By-the-way, when you’re writing, remember
That you never went drinking with me,
And forget our last night of December,
Lest our sev’ral accounts disagree.
And, for my sake, old man, you had better
Avoid the old language of strife,
For the technical terms of your letter
May be misunderstood by the wife.
Never hint of the girls appertaining
To the past (when you’re writing again),
For they take such a lot of explaining,
And you know how I hate to explain.
There are some things, we know to our sorrow,
That cut to the heart like a knife,
And your past is To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be true to the wife.
I believe that the creed we were chums in
Was grand, but too abstract and bold,
And the knowledge of life only comes in
When you’re married and fathered and old.
And it’s well. You may travel as few men,
You may stick to a mistress for life;
But the world, as it is, born of woman
Must be seen through the eyes of the wife.
No doubt you are dreaming as I did
And going the careless old pace,
While my future grows dull and decided,
And the world narrows down to the Place.
Let it be. If my ‘treason’s’ resented,
You may do worse, old man, in your life;
Let me dream, too, that I am contented—
For the sake of a true little wife.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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This Poem This Life
THIS POEM THIS LIFE
This poem this life
This beginning again
These words
This time of troubles
This late morning gloom
This sorrow
This sadness
These words
This time of difficulty
This light
This day
This world
This everything which is for me now
This life
This trouble
This pain
This sorrow
This love
This hope
These children
Their lives
This prayer
This wife
This love
This Israel
This light
This is
This is again
This is forever
This now
This always
This never
This was
This You and only You
This.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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A Song for my Wife
my wife, my beloved wife...
my best friend forever
though it is not our anniversary,
yet there is nothing to celebrate,
I love you so much
I love you every day
until we die together
do you know until now,
we had the best family,
i had two beautiful daughters
my dear wife,
every time i wake up in the morning,
i always see your beautiful eyes
i love the warmth of you body
when ever you sleep in my arms
i feel your love so tender,
o my wife, my beloved wife
thought our marriage is not perfect
all I wish is to grow old with you.
poem by Rey Benipayo
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I'm Not Writing A Poem Today
I'm not writing a poem today, don't feel like writing,
Instead I'll watch soaps today, while nail-biting.
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to sleep soon,
Instead I'll later wake up and look at the white moon,
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to be sad,
Instead I'm going to search for something else that makes me glad.
So peace be unto anyone that reads the letter here,
For I am not writing a poem today, just going to get a beer.
poem by Chad Fisher
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Dear Friend
i always love to write, as early as
gradeschool when we were classmates
while you were playing and chasing and stumbling
i just sat on the grass of the playground under a tree and scribble anything
and read a lot about some stories with lots of pictures
and colors of fairies and kings and queens and butterflies and bees,
i do not stop writing, in fact, writing has become my life
that without words i may die an instant death
i dream that i have written novels and stories and lots of poems
i wake up with some ideas like some seeds that i want to sow
and grow in the field and see them become shrubs and trees and forests
and i keep on this life writing and writing and writing and writing
for writing's sake and i wish i may live longer so i may write
some more, some sequels of my love stories and suspense thrillers
and write finally all the poems that are inside my mind
hanging like ripe grapes and creeping like vines on my fence
as i am writing now as you always want to read me
until such time my friend that i will die, or end my life myself (who knows?)
(i will not talk about it now, it is something bizarre and makes me
shiver, but who knows, well you know, all are but possibilities and nothing
but possibilities in this vast wide world of realities and dreams)
there is something i must say somehow
there is something that i must have forgotten, i have not written about myself
i have always written about them, about you, about the world,
please do not refuse me, stop playing with your life,
gradeschool ended
a long time ago, i have one and ultimate request:
write the story of my life, because it is you who only knows about it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dear Friends...
father is friend
mother also
friend...
life is sweet...
wife also friend
very enjoy...
brother as friend
so sweet...
sister also friend
too nice...
enemey also friend
you are
win the life...
make enemy
too your friend
with helping love..
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I Am Far Away From Where I Am
I AM FAR AWAY FROM WHERE I AM
I am far away from where I am-
I often am-
It is not that there are two sides of me
Or three or four
It is not that I know anything about who
My real self is-
I suppose ‘I am' all the time I am conscious
And what that means I also don't know-
There are so many questions and so many questions -
I am here now
I am writing this
Soon I will be on my way to Minchah
I have done the shopping today
And walked from ‘Rami Levi' in the rain
My wife and I have talked and talked
About many things
I spoke with my daughter also
This afternoon I will meet with a friend
Another ailing friend will have to wait next week for a visit-
I know that all the details of a life
Do not tell us what a self is,
But without our histories
What are we?
I felt that I was far away from where I am when I began this poem,
Now I don't know exactly where I am-
Far or not-
I am just sitting writing here
A rainy day in spring
And nearly seventy years behind me-
My real self is a question
And I will ask it I suppose as long as I continue thinking
On this earth -
I don't mind not knowing
I after all assume I do know-
Life has many contradictions
And unsolved questions-
Who we really are even to ourselves
Is one of them-
Thank God there has been so much Love and Goodness
From other people in my life
And that there is still now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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