Aissaton
Of your children after harlotry,
Where are their fathers? !
But like a virgin waiting to be loved for the first time,
You are like two milk cows which have been over yoked!
From Ekron to Gath,
And to the visiting place of Beth Car;
Aissaton, you need to learn more from life itself.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Ebenezer
Of the five rulers of Philistines!
One for Ashod,
One for Gaza,
One for Ashkelon,
One for Gath,
And one for Ekron;
But your love is in the field of Yahshua of Beth Shemesh.
Ebenezer, bribe perverts justice!
And the truth will always crash you;
Like a rainfall from Bahrain.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Broremann The Farmhand
Broremann, the farmer worker.
Every morning at five thirty sharp, my brother Broremann
had to milk five cows by hand bring bucket full of goodness
to the scullery where maid sifted it and in a churn it went.
He had to start milking Rose first, she was the mother cow
other cows wouldn´t give milk unless he started with her.
After milking Broremann had to clean the barn five cows
make a lot of dung; he pushed it down in a hole in the wall
it was later used to fertilize the land. My brother was proud
of his ability to milk and his hands were, firm yet gentle.
There was a problem though Rose didn´t yield as much milk
as before as she was getting elderly and the farmer sold her
to the knacker’s yard. It was a sad day and the other cows
mooed woefully. The farmer bought a new cow to take Rosa´s
place, but Broremann couldn´t milk her first, as she was new-
comer, so he started with Gerda, now the oldest cow, and milk
the new one last, thus rural peace continued in the cow shed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Mother Earth And Father Time Are Angry
Mother Earth and Father Time are walking hand in hand.
They're visiting their children and checking on their land.
They view the worlds destruction everywhere they turn.
They fear their precious children are never going to learn.
''This earth should be their playground with joys beyond belief
yet, all these children seem to know is senseless pain and grief.''
''How do we teach our children to care for such a place?
They may not get the message till we slap them in their face.''
The children are oblivious to even basic rules.
That's why so many people grow up looking like such fools.
My First Time
My first time I have my own place, ever.
My first time I live alone, ever.
My first time I don't have to take care of
anyone but me, ever.
My first time I have to learn to shop
all over again, for one, ever.
My first time I bought a half of
a galon of milk, ever.
My first time I have to learn how to
cook all over again, for one, ever.
My first time I have to clean my
place up, for one, ever.
My first time I have to learn how
to live alone, ever.
My first holidays I spend without a
child, ever.
My first time I don't have someone
to tuck in, ever.
My first time I don't have someone to say
'Good Night Son or Love', ever.
My first time.
Ever.
poem by Sarah Stites
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Fathers Are The Men From Sky
Fathers, the men who are like a pen
We never can see whatever is going on inside them
But suddenly that pen is finished and then?
Fathers, the men who try hard for the pleasure of their family
They just want the less for themselves because of the comfort of their children
Looking forward to spend a day with his family in a place that is hilly
Fathers, the men who justify the wishes of their children to their own wishes
They just live to see the victory of their children and family
But their life sometimes is as short as the golden fishes
Fathers, the men who are noble, they leave their tired face out of the house's door
They came in with a happy face, but we know they are tired from inside
We know that they are sad from the core.
Fathers, the men who listen to the pain of family members
People who are powerful to solve the problems and hard conditions
But no one has the ear to understand them; they just talk with the embers
Fathers,
Warm and kind people who never bother
Fathers,
Who are unique in their way, after them there is no tother
Fathers,
Are the men who are like the kind brothers.
poem by Ellias Anderson
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The Whale
The Whale is found in seas and oceans,
Indulging there in fishlike motions,
But Science shows that Whales are mammals,
Like Jersey cows, and goats, and camels.
When undisturbed, the Whale will browse
Like camels, goats, and Jersey cows,
On food that satisfies its tongue,
Thus making milk to feed its young.
Asking no costly hay and oats,
Like camels, Jersey cows, and goats,
The Whale, prolific milk producer,
Should be our cheapest lactic juicer.
Our milk should all come from the sea,
But who, I ask, would want to be—
And here the proposition fails—
The milkmaid to a herd of Whales?
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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The Visiting Aunts
This is a memory from my childhood, when I was about Nine years old.
The visiting Aunts have come through the door,
They haven't been here for six months or more,
Their presence is such an incredible bore,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts are so out of date,
I soon noticed that when they came through the gate,
Their dresses date back to nineteen-o-eight,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts have kisses that smother,
With whiskery chins as one will discover,
Each one is just as bad as the other,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts look all around our place,
Tutting and waving their hands, so the lace
Which encircles their wrists shakes a pace,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are staying to tea,
They're both very fat and will eat more than me,
There'll be nothing left, just you wait and see,
I told you so!
The visiting Aunts they gossip away,
About this and that and 'not in our day',
They never will listen to what others say,
I really feel low!
The visiting Aunts say it's a disgrace,
The way I'm allowed to get dirt on my face,
And go running around with an undone shoelace,
Well, I can't tie a bow!
The visiting Aunts have had 'forty winks',
Mother had said they will go soon, she thinks,
They're both motionless like a couple of sphinx,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are off down the lane,
Thank goodness they've gone now, they're really a pain, .
I hope that they never visit again,
Please, days go slow!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Another Place & Time
I cant lie
I was attracted too
Somehow the feelings
Were so strong inside
But Im not free to be
In love with you maybe
Things would be different
In another place and time
And I cant give you
All you want me to
And I know you deserve
The best from me
But I cant give you more
Of all that you long for
I would have loved you
In another place and time
Dreams arent always bound to come true
But thats no reason you should cry
cos I would have loved you
Really loved you
In another place and time
Im hurting deep inside
Just want you to know
Oh, I would have loved you
Oh yeah, in another place and time
Fate cant always be led by you
The time aint right for you and i
In another place and time
In another place and time...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cows Rear Leg (Fun Poem 57)
A cowbell sounds for milking time,
a milkmaid on her three-legged stool,
remembering all the time that golden rule.
Never get behind a cows rear leg
as it could give you a nasty bump.
A jet of milk fires into the bucket
as she caresses the utter teats
with her soft hands.
Always watchful and wary
of the cows rear leg.
29 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Wasila
Of your life for his life,
Of your life for her life,
Of your life for my life,
Of my life for your life,
But this place is used for a latrine;
So come up with a different plan on this issue.
You are in the House of Baal and,
I am in the House of Yahweh;
You are in the House of Beth-El and,
I am still in the House of Yahweh;
So come up with a different plan on this issue.
Wasila, are you of the same mind with me?
Then try to be yourself at all times to learn from others;
Because, Yahweh has shorten the borders of Israyl.
Such is life and we have to learn always,
Such is the muse and we have to keep on moving;
For the tides of life do change at all times.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Waiting
===
Just one short life
No second chance
To make of ourselves what we can
The moving hands again advance
& mould me into what I am
Waiting, waiting
Well understood but not controlled
Forever here anonymous
Whats present now
Already past
In retrospect so obvious
Waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
But time passes quickly
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
The hope never fading
You will always be left waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
You will always be left waiting
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting
===
Just one short life
No second chance
To make of ourselves what we can
The moving hands again advance
& mould me into what I am
Waiting, waiting
Well understood but not controlled
Forever here anonymous
Whats present now
Already past
In retrospect so obvious
Waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
But time passes quickly
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
The hope never fading
You will always be left waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
You will always be left waiting
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The virtue is compared with milk
Colors of the cows vary,
The variety of the breeds vary,
But the color of the milk
does never vary,
It is always pure and white!
Similarly,
The quality for a human being
is the virtue he gains in his life time
through good deeds;
('The virtue is compared with milk')
The paths for attaining virtue
may be many genuine ways!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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SHORT; Humor: 2 Poems about: A 'Cultured' Sort of Cow
#1
What sort of cow gives cultured WHOLE milk?
I think Princess and cows of her ilk.
She has nary a crawling tick,
she does NOT her calves lick, (babies that is) ,
and, at our state fair she wins ribbons of silk.
#2
What sort of cow gives cultured fat free milk?
I think Princess and other cows of her ilk.
She buys, for her stall, pieces of art,
listens each evening to her Mozart,
and for the annual Dairy Ball……she dresses in SILK!
(Feb.2006)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Loose You Tonight (Caravan Version)
don't run away
i can't live without you
please stay
and i learn to love you right
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
i've been crying for you
die for you all this time
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i ain't gonna
lose you tonight
don't run away
i never wanted to hide you
please stay
and i learn to treat you right
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i've been crying for you
die for you all this time
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i ain't gonna
lose you tonight
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i've been crying for you
die for you all this time
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i ain't gonna
lose you tonight
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
(oh, i can't live without you)
and i've been crying for you
die for you all this time
(i never want to adore you)
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i ain't gonna
lose you tonight
i ain't gonna lose you tonight
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i've been crying for you
die for you all this time
i was waiting for you
waiting for all my life
and i ain't gonna
lose you tonight
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zerah
Cows and horses,
Of the forest and the roads;
With many houses around for me to learn about this place.
This one came out first to let her keep what she has,
With three moons for me to learn about her.
Zerah is my name and i am very handsome in appearance,
So i married her and went into her;
And today she is with a child,
Like the producing of an ofspring in the name of love.
Zerah is my name and i am still learning about this place,
Of a land full of cigarette smookers!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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We Are The Children
We are the children of the sun
and the stars.
We are the children of the hippies,
who were strung out on peace and love,
and heroin when they conceived us.
We are the children of alcoholics,
conceived in blackouts.
We are the children of the punk rockers,
screwed into this world on beer and anger.
We are the children of the poor,
raised on welfare and food stamps,
and government housing.
We are the children of the middle class,
borrowing from the government to get a college degree,
to get a job with a pension from corporate amerika,
who has already fired our fathers and mothers,
before they could retire.
We are the children of the rich,
who, like our fathers and mothers before us,
care only about obtaining more wealth.
We are the children of the doctors, dentists,
and lawyers, who care more about their Porsches
and Mercedes than they do their patients.
We are the children of the American dream,
roaming the streets with a blanket,
and a garbage bag full of aluminum cans.
We are the children, who now have the children,
and we hope they won't learn racism from us,
like we learned it from our moms and dads.
We are the children who can change the inevitable,
alter our destiny, change the future from futile to
fruitful.
Amen.
poem by Mikel K Poet
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Merciless men
No bulls! All bullocks!
All castrated, libido arrested,
They toil for their men-folks.
All cows! Only to yield calves,
With no bulls to mate them,
Or to beat cows’ heat.
Just to milk for the folks!
Bulls no more masculine
To fall in love with cow;
Cows, though fully feminine,
Excite no male to copulate.
Cows are delivered of their calves,
Having never gone to sex,
By seminal injections.
Bullocks are stripped of peak of sex..
Creations go without lovemaking.
Men and women of all walks,
From sixteen to sixty or more,
Learn to groom their passion,
With hormones and fashion,
To entertain their orgasm,
By nature way or manipulation,
As often as they desired,
In multitudes and with multitudes,
Whether for a child or not,
More often for no procreation.
Devices are found against confinement
And for a high erotic enjoyment.
Lovemaking goes without creation.
Animals are killed of sexual joy
To multiple the race.
Men-folks are filled of erotic joy
To limit the race.
05.02.99, Dindukal
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Your children get a lot of good stuff out of your work... They benefit from the tales you tell over dinner. They learn from the things you explain to them about what you do. They brag about you at school. They learn that work is interesting, that it has dignity, that it is necessary and pleasing, and that it is a perfectly natural thing for both mothers and fathers to do... Your work enriches your children more than it deprives them.
quote by Louise Lague
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