Mrs. Jasmine Garland Seller
A female tongue pushed me down from the swing of sleep.
Rain kids roused the stink of railway track in the dawn.
His liquor reddened half opened eyes gaze
At the life-like-fan, its rotation makes him dizzy.
His sweet brown lady drags him into the duties.
A long chain of complaints tinkles on her lips.
Worries about her female children at home
Rise up like the black smoke from the train.
She tries to put white smelling jasmine garlands nicely
In her basket that does rest on the floor of the compartment.
Baskets never enjoy the fragrance, but only carry………
poem by Fabiyas M V
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Related quotes
Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Sleep Longer Today
Let me sleep longer
the bed keeps on calling
while duties also knock at the door.
Let me sleep longer
as my eyes want to rest long
let me dream dreams some more.
Let me sleep and rest longer
let this be a special day
when I manage to pamper my body
Let it lie down without worries,
without deadlines and must-duties,
without telephone calls, net and TV.
Let me sleep longer today.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I will love myself first
I am a flower
With a set of eight long petals
Shaped a bit long oval
Coloured sky-blue at the bottom
Turning bright-yellow at the top
And with long pollen sticks
White-headed peeping well out
I am an attraction to
Butterflies which keep probing
Me for the sweet nectar
I too attract insects
Very small in size
And which enjoy sliding into me
Along the slope of my petal
I hold for you a mild scent
That resembles the smell of jasmine
But because of the high ethanol content
In my fragrance
I smell with a fruitish tinge
While jasmine has a season to blossom
I am in blossom all through
Either it is winter, summer or raining
Lovers prefer me to rose
As I am big by look and thorn-less
Some devotees come to my bush
Every day and pluck me
And offer to Krishna
The God of the town
I appear much less in numbers
Compared to jasmine
But keep many garden corners
Smelling sweet with my
Special fragrance
I thought I am fine
And everyone else is also
Fine with me
Till that evening
Someone telling his lover
Not to pluck me
As he does not like the way I look
Next day morning
A mother was instructing
Her three year old son
Not to go near me
As my smell is allergic to him
It took just a day
For me to realize
There are so many others
Who have reasons for disliking me
Any way I cannot do anything
To change my looks
Or to change my scent
So determined was i
I will keep my colour
Looks and fragrance in tact
Whether people like it or otherwise
I will keep my glow
Whether insects get attracted or not
I am a creation of nature
I will enjoy being what I am
With all that nature has gifted me
And I will love myself first
Without bothering much
To know whether
Any one else loves me or not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Attractive Female Wanted
(rod stewart / gary grainger)
Im tired of buying penthouse and oui and hustler
Its friday night Im all alone still a bachelor
She said shed call me when shed finished work
Havent heard a word all day
I may not be warren beatty or mohammed ali
(attractive female wanted)
I aint asking a great deal, just a female to move in with me
(attractive female wanted)
Ill share all my records, toothbrush and car
And color tv, honestly
A single girl for my single bed is my remedy
(attractive female wanted)
She doesnt have to be a movie star
Cover of a magazine
She can work in a garage all day
In the evening some canteen
Im tired of blind dates making silly mistakes
Its embarrassing
(attractive female wanted)
Ive had no complaints
But obviously youve guessed
No compliments
(attractive female wanted)
Wont someone please answer my prayers
Before Im old and grey
(attractive female wanted)
Ive been lonely too long
All of my family think Im gay
She doesnt have to be a movie star
Cover of magazine
She can work in a garage all day
In the evening some canteen
Attractive female wanted
Active female wanted
I may get drunk stink like a skunk
But shell look after me
(attractive female wanted)
Put me to bed ease my aching head
And made fuss of me
You know what I gonna do
Think Ill write a letter
To mr. hugh heffner confidentially
Dear sir
A single girl for my single bed is my remedy
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Electric Train Set
The electric train set
Was laid out upstairs
in a large room
in your cousin’s house.
It compared unfairly
with your own
hand wound train set
at home, shut up in a box.
Your cousin pushed buttons
and the train and carriages
raced around
the long winding track
as you both looked on,
each with your own
deep down thoughts
and boyish dreams.
No labour involved,
no fingers needed
to wind the train,
no small circle
of metal track
as yours had at home,
but a room spread of track
in wider circle
from here, there and back.
You eyed your cousin’s train set
with a mixture
of envy and awe
as you watched it
race speedily around the floor.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fortunate are females
Among kids, girls are lovelier.
Among singers, women are appealing.
Women dancers are pretty to watch.
Female models are models everywhere.
All magazines carry female torso.
Why?
Only men have lust in eyes.
29.05.2001, Berham
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Loot of Kissess
In bed
At sex...
Time...
Male change
Female...
Female change
Male...
At the bed...
Male is
Female...
Female is male...
It only not
Feeelling...
Bodys sexual
Enjoy of
Eneargy....
Making male
This think...?
Don't woory male...
Too love to female
Give eneargy kissess
For loot....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Red, White, and Blue
brown and black,
red, and white...
old and young,
male and female.
tired and poor,
pushed too far!
too honest for
our own good...
small towns, big cities,
farms and factories...
hands that work
joined together...
we are a people
that believe in people...
the faces of freedom,
and we have names!
red, white, and blue!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swim
Put your head on my shoulder baby
Things can't get any worse
Night is getting colder
Sometimes life feels like it's a curse
Bridge:
I can't carry these sins on my back
Don't wanna carry any more
I'm gonna carry this train off the track
I'm gonna swim to the ocean floor
Chorus:
Mmmmm
Crash to the other shore
Mmmmm
Swim to the ocean floor
Children killing children
While the students rape their teachers
Comets fly across the sky
While the churches burn their preachers
Bridge2:
We can't carry these sins on our back
Don't wanna carry any more
We're gonna carry this train off the track
We're gonna swim to the ocean floor
(chorus)
Let the water wash over you
Wash it all over you
Swim to the ocean floor
So that we can begin again
Wash away all our sins
Crash to the other shore
Mmmmmm
(bridge)
(chorus)
(bridge2)
Crash to the other shore
Swim to the ocean floor
Mmmmmm
song performed by by Madonna from Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're showing kids a world that is very scantily populated with women and female characters. They should see female characters taking up half the planet, which we do.
quote by Geena Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song
YOU are as gold
as the half-ripe grain
that merges to gold again,
as white as the white rain
that beats through
the half-opened flowers
of the great flower tufts
thick on the black limbs
of an Illyrian apple bough.
Can honey distill such fragrance
as your bright hair-
for your face is as fair as rain,
yet as rain that lies clear
on white honey-comb,
lends radiance to the white wax,
so your hair on your brow
casts light for a shadow.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Waiting For) The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And I hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost Train
A straw headed woman, and a barrel chested man,
A pocket full of posies with a hat brim full of sand,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
A dog chasing the tumbleweeds, across the sandy floor,
That drift along the platform, through the ticket office door,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
But don't tell me there's nothing coming, you don't fool me,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
The station master's writing with a piece of orange chalk,
A hundred cancellations, still no one wants to walk,
Keep the hungry children from the skeletons in the back,
Paid to keep an eye out for the gipsy caravan,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
Ooh - waiting for the train that never comes,
I hear the ghost train rumbling along the tracks - set them free,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white (don't try),
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
And i hear them,
It's black and white don't try to hide,
It's black and white don't try to hide...
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lullaby of the iroquois
Little brown baby-bird, lapped in your nest,
Wrapped in your nest,
Strapped in your nest,
Your straight little cradle-board rocks you to rest;
Its hands are your nest;
Its bands are your nest;
It swings from the down-bending branch of the oak;
You watch the camp flame, and the curling grey smoke;
But, oh, for your pretty black eyes sleep is best,--
Little brown baby of mine, go to rest.
Little brown baby-bird swinging to sleep,
Winging to sleep,
Singing to sleep,
Your wonder-black eyes that so wide open keep,
Shielding their sleep,
Unyielding to sleep,
The heron is homing, the plover is still,
The night-owl calls from his haunt on the hill,
Afar the fox barks, afar the stars peep,--
Little brown baby of mine, go to sleep.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Film Noir
(j. webb/c.simon)
Got on in new haven
Last car on the train.
Put my hat on the seat,
Wipe the tears from my eyes.
I watched my life go by,
Like a movie in my brain.
Scenes unreeling;
In a sceneless chain
On the window,
And a silver screen of rain!
And the opening title scroll,
And the score comes in and under.
And Im in the starring role,
In a world of love-struck wonder;
Its a tale full of promise, about two crazy kids;
Falling in love, but in flashback.
And then the music,
That gorgeous music;
And I wake up,
Rattling down the railroad track.
He could be sweet,
But I stayed on my guard.
Just how good a liar
Can a decent man be?
I always played my hand
Like I didnt have the cards.
Cause he held them all
So I could never see.
Yes, he played me for a fool,
And I agreed.
And the closing credits roll,
And the waves come in like thunder.
Cause the heros lost control,
And I made a fatal blunder.
Just another sad story;
Two star-crossed kids,
Racing headlong up a cul-de-sac.
And then that music,
That mournful music.
And the trains disappearing
Down that railroad track.
And the long, slow dissolve,
As we fade to black.
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Voice On The Wind
I
She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
II
Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
III
She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
IV
Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
V
'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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D.sex
male dog
sleep
on...
rich home...
female dog
walking on
street...
with sound...
male dog
open
with the eyes
with out sleep...
female dog sound...
male dog also sound
the sond is nasty
but...
the both wanted sexy....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swing of Memories
Hurrying through the crowded city lanes
On one fine sunny day
Lost in my worries
About various this & that
I saw a swing in a nearby park
Surrounded by playful kids
Basking in the sunshine
For one second I was back in time
Swinging with my friends
Lost in careless chatter which
Rhymed with the tinkling of our glass bangles
We were racing against the wind
In our long wooden swing
Hanging beneath the branches of
Benevolent old mango tree
Munching ripe golden mangoes
Shared by squirrels & birds
Relishing each moment of our childhood
Now I am back to present
Childhood long gone
I won't regret
About not being among the kids
It’s their time to enjoy
I have my swing
My swing of memories
To swing always
poem by Ammus Sreeraj
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Carry On
He hasn't seen a drop of rain for months it seems
Rollin river is nothing; but a tricklin' stream
The crops are dyin' in the harsh sun light
The dust on his tongue is dry
The fatted calf is down to skin and bones
We carry on
Alone in the city and she's only seventeen
The boy left her black and blue on the streets so mean
Just twelve weeks along and she's got a life inside
Said shes never ever felt so alone
She walks in the shelter, they say welcome home
And we carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Beyond the picket fences and the oil wells
The happy endings and the fairy tales
Is the reality of shattered lives and broken dreams
We carry on
Carry on
It's the family that grieves for a lost loved one
It's the soldier who won't leave till the job is done
It's the addict trying to turn his life around
It's pickin' yourself up off the ground when you've been knocked down
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
When our lives come undone...we carry on
Cause there's promise in the morning sun...we carry on
As the dark surrenders to the dawn
We were born to overcome
We carry on
Carry on
We carry on
He stands in the field, cooled by the winds of change
She smiles as her baby moves and it starts to rain
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swing Low (feat. The United Colours Of Sound)
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry he home
I looked over Jordan and what did I see
Coming for to carry he home
A band of angels coming after me
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
If you get there before I do
Coming for to carry me home
Tell all my friends I'm coming too
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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