They visited her
They were happily married
and had one or two or three children
or none at all
and shared there lives
with their wives or sweethearts,
but they visited her.
Some had wealth
and some were poor
and some had magazine cover wives
and some were attractive
and some were dull,
but they visited her.
Some were elders in the church
and some were businessmen
and out of every occupation
they came
and even church ministers
visited her and shared her bed.
Somehow she understood
better than any head doctor
what made men happy
and what made them tick
and without any special trick
she shared her body
and cared in a way.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Going to church
I was called up to a military camp
and we were in tents in Parrow
and I was seconded to a special unit
on our way to De Brug
from where we would go to Luhatla
and from there to war in Angola
and although we were guarded
by marines
some guys at night sneaked
through the patrols
and I could have accompanied them
if I wished,
but they visited paid girls.
Time after time I had requested
to be transferred to a unit in Pretoria
where I lived,
but my letters came back
stamped request denied.
I asked to go to church
instead of attending prayer parade,
and my request was granted
and I got pass for the day
on condition to get a lift
and I called a doctor
friend of mine.
He fetched me with his Alfa Guiletta
and we went to Tygerberg church
where I was a member when we
were still married.
One of the girls
was very friendly
and was blonde, quite lovely
with a awesome smile
and a short black mini skirt
and she came to sit
right next to me
and I still remember
her long legs.
That day almost came
to a halt for me
when you walked in
with your husband
to have your
newborn son blessed in
and I couldn’t take my eyes
away from the pair of you
and saw your parents
and even his.
You were more beautiful
than I had remembered
but looked quite nervous
and the baby looked great
and at first I was quite angry,
at life, at your happiness
but seeing you there
did something to me.
The service was better
than most
and the blonde
invited me to the flat
that she shared
with her sister
where we had lunch
and she was really nice
and my spirits were high
and I was ready to fight
any war after this.
poem by Gert Strydom
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With each other
(after T.T. Cloete)
Together we enjoyed evenings
in each other's company, dined out,
at times we talked and sometimes were silent;
for months we knew about our love,
we visited and drove around,
shared poems, stories and memories,
at times we only stayed peacefully at home,
we knew that love can never be boring
and we talked almost right through nights,
we went to church in suits and ties and coats,
we embraced every time that we got together,
even in rain showers and in muddy patches
while we were becoming much more in love.
[Reference: "die welkomsomhelsing" (the welcoming embrace) by T.T. Cloete.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Appearance
A demon visited Martin Luther
without invitation
and he threw an inkpot
to make it disappear
and God’s blood, the wine
expelled it to where the sun doesn’t shine.
A demon visited me
without invitation
with murderous eyes glowing red
and it wasn’t beautiful
but a monster, black, full of venom
but God’s name, made it pine away
and that demon was uninvited.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Very Special Love
She said, "I spent eight years in California
That's the reason why I talk the way I do
But I've heard how Southern men respect the ladies
And I'd like to meet a gentleman like you"
Well, I spent most of my life in Alabama
That's the reason why I talk the way I do
And I've always had this thing for sun-tanned ladies
And I'd really like to spend some time with you
And we walked on the beach till early morning
And we watched as the sun came up again
And somehow we both shared the feelin'
That we'd just made a very special friend
Tomorrow I'll go back to Alabama
And you'll fly from Atlanta to L.A.
And I'll get back to takin' care of bus'ness,
And you'll go back to starrin' on the stage
But we'll think of the beach come Monday morning
When both of us get back to push and shove
And somehow we will always remember
The night we shared a very special love
I spent most of my life in Alabama
That's the reason why I talk the way I do
I know we shared a very special friendship
The night we made a very special love
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Traces Of Me.....[SHORT; Personal; Humor; Death]
If when I pass I leave few traces,
let me leave at least some smiling faces,
on a chosen few.
I may have been at times a pain in ass
(and I don't mean when I was passing gas)
to a chosen few.
Retired, I wrote poems for myself and to share
(though it seemed most I shared with did not care)
with a chosen few.
I never with my money was wild.
I shared with wives, non-profits, and my child.
That's what I would do.
I've tried to live like a good Boy Scout.
But I gave up religion, and I sometimes shout.
What's a guy to do?
poem by Bri Edwards
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Say Goodbye when your Chum is Married
Now this is a rhyme that might well be carried
Gummed in your hat till the end of things:
Say Good-bye when your chum is married;
Say Good-bye while the church-bell rings;
Say Good-bye—if you ask why must you,
’Tis for the sake of old friendship true,
For as sure as death will his wife distrust you
And lead him on to suspect you, too.
Say Good-bye, though he be a brother,
Seek him not when you’re married, too—
Things that you never would tell each other
The wives will carry as young wives do.
Say Good-bye ere their tongues shall strangle
The friendship pledged ere the lights grew dim,
For, as sure as death, will those young wives wrangle,
And drag you into it, you and him.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Burden Bearer
Shared Joy is double joy,
It keeps on multiplying.
Shared Sorrow is half a sorrow
In time will be decreasing.
Shared Hope is flaming hope
Ignites our inspiration
Shared prayer is sure answer
For God's our Burden Bearer.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Men Who Made Bad Matches
'Tis the song of many husbands, and you all must understand
That you cannot call me coward now that women rule the land;
I have written much for women, where I thought that they were right,
But the men who made bad matches claim a song from me to-night.
Oh, the men who made bad matches are of every tribe and clime,
And, if Adam was the first man, then they date from Adam’s time.
They shall live and they shall suffer, until married life is past,
And the last sad son of Adam stands alone—at peace at last.
Oh, the men who made bad matches, and the Great Misunderstood,
Are through all the world a mighty and a silent brotherhood.
If a wife is discontented, every other woman knows—
But the men who made bad matches keep the cruel secret close.
You may say that you can tell them, by their clothing, if you will,
But a man may seem neglected, and his home be happy still.
You may tell by their assumption of conventional disguise—
But, the men who made bad matches, I can tell them by their eyes!
I have seen them by the camp-fire, where a child’s voice never comes,
I have seen them by the fireside, in their seeming happy homes—
Seen their wives’ false arms go round them, and the kisses that were lies—
Oh, the men who made bad matches! I can tell them by their eyes.
I have seen them bad in prison—seen them sullen, seen them sad;
I have seen them (in the mad-house)—I have seen them raving mad.
Watched them fight the battle bravely, for the children’s sake alone,
Like a father who has wronged them, and who lives but to atone.
But it’s cruel, oh! it’s cruel, for the husband and the wife,
Who have not one thought in common, and are yoked for weary life.
They must see it through and suffer, for the children they must rear—
Oh, the folk who made bad matches have a heavy cross to bear.
There is not a ray of comfort, in the future’s gloomy sky,
For the children of bad matches will make trouble by-and-bye.
And though second wives be angels, while the first wives were the worst,
No second wife yet wedded makes a man forget the first.
Ah! the men who made bad matches think more often than we know,
Of the girls they should have married, in the glorious long ago,
And there’s many a wife and mother thinks with bitter pain to-day,
Of her giddy, silly girlhood, and the man she sent away.
Life is sad for men and women, but the thoughts are bitter sad
Of the girls we should have married, and the boys we should have had.
But we’ll part now with a handshake, if we cannot with a kiss,
And bad matches may be mended in a better world than this.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Warchild ('78 Demo)
Warchild, your heart is broken
Your mind is breakin', it's such a shame
Warchild, your body's broken
Your woman's taken, it's not a game
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
Warchild, I used to love you
The whole world loved you, we used to care
Warchild, your mind has been emptied
So all you do now is just sit n' stare
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
Your lady's waiting, she's hesitating
Not knowing why
Warchild, the pain you're showing
The pain is knowing that you're gonna die
People once shared your wisdom
Shared your memory, shared your dreams
Now your thoughts have all been shattered
What once was rhythm are now just screams
song performed by by Def Leppard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Very Special Love
Words and music by teddy gentry, randy owen, and jeff cook
She said, I spent eight years in california.
Thats the reason why I talk the way I do.
But Ive hear how southern men respect the ladies, and Id like to meet a
Gentleman like you.
Well, I spent most of my life in alabama.
Thats the reason why I talk the way I do.
And Ive always had this thing for sun-tanned ladies, and Id really like to
Spend some time with you.
And we walked on the beach till early morning.
And we watched as the sun came up again.
And somehow we both shared the feelin that wed just made a very special
Friend.
Tomorrow Ill go back to alabama, and youll fly from atlanta to l.a.and ill
Get back to takin care of busness, and youll go back to starrin on the
Stage.
But well think of the beach come monday morning, when both of us get back to
Push and shove.
And somehow we will always remember the night we shared a very special love.
I spent most of my life in alabama.
Thats the reason why I talk the way I do.
I know we shared a very special friendship the night we made a very special
Love.
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He is a tiger.
He visited none; none visited him.
He helped none; none helped him.
He needed none; none needed him..
‘His loneliness has tortured him’,
Everyone thought so except him.
The tiger is not gregarious.
18.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Final Good-Byes
as we say our final good-byes
I won't be fully there
I'll be thinking of time we shared
and what it'll be like without you
you're moving
it'll be sad to see
but it's nothing new
for it's plain to see
I liked you
you'd never tell
or see for that matter
how I truy feel
I thought there was something
special we shared
a bond a connection
that wouldn't rip us apart
but these are our final days
until we're far apart
I will treasure them always
you'll be in my heart
you reached me
for the first time I say
I'd trust you with my life
even on my last day
I'll think about you
and wonder 'What if...'
what if you never left
what if we could be
some think it's foolishness
but I'll never tell
how you made me feel
and how you made me melt
when I hear your voice
I always turn back to see
you smiling at me
and calling me near
some say you're normal
I say their wrong
you're something special
because you made me strong
I know we're just friends
but there's more there
I never saw it coming
but it's something I must bare
so good-bye
but not forever
time will tell
what was truly there
I will miss you
more than you know
it's the hardest thing to do
saying good-bye to you
these moments are going
as I wave you good-bye
it could be the last I see you
I'll miss you no lie.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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Maybe Female Priests
Priests can't have wives so the job attracted pedophile guys,
Using fancy colorful vestments as a form of disguise,
But new rules should change and require priests to have wives,
So that the Catholic Church might again thrive and survive.
Indeed these type of ideas might seem to be sacrilegious,
But there was a time when this was accepted as religious,
When holy priests all had wives and kids and this was the norm,
Until they decided to change everything and reform.
It's obvious that the church needs to reform again and soon,
Back to the twelfth-century system at the first opportune,
It's also obvious that this should have happened a long time ago,
But instead we all learned from the hierarchy, how to kowtow.
Because the widows of priests were dependent on the church,
This hidden factor does not appear in an Internet search,
But there's something very wrong now that needs to be put right,
Maybe female priests could help get us out of this blight.
poem by James Bredin
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Falling For You
I see your smile
and you catch my eye
but you just keep walking
and pass me by
when I see you
I can't help but smile
then you make me melt
into a big love pile
we'd sit side-by-side
in classes we shared
and I'd always help you
only because I cared
you made me laugh
you made me cry
but I'll always remember
the way you made me get by
I've never known
someone like you
that makes me happy
the way you do
I now know my feelings
this feeling is strong and new
I've never loved someone
as much as I loved you
poem by Katherine Bryce
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Funny moments shared with her
Funny moments shared with her
Lodged inside my head
Laughing loud just having fun
Alive and never dead
Funny moments shared with her
Sometimes hot or cold
Never will it be the same
The story I've been told
Funny moments shared with her
Will bring a smile to me
Oh baby can we laugh once more
I'm missing us the we
poem by Bradley Lester
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Siblings Are Friends You Just Can't Get Rid Of
Siblings are enemies you cannot escape
Bound by blood
Bound by history
You know the real me
What's behind the mask I wear for others to see
Shared parents and vacations, and long Sunday drives
You always got the window seat ‘cause you got car sick - yeah right!
We shared a dinner table and breakfast...and bad manners too
A shared room, a shared mess, a shared bed, (the wetting was you)
We made mud pies together, and ate them, (or at least we tasted)
You gave me measles. I gave you mumps. (Those fevers truly sucked)
We nursed one another's heartbreaks
We dried each other's tears
We yelled and screamed, you said you hated me
You're a day person. I'm a night
You wanted to be early but I made you late
We became adults together
Buried our parents side-by-side
I hurt your feelings. You made me angry
We were callous and mean without even thinking
You weren't my friend, just a sibling, biologically speaking
Just someone I'm stuck with who lives down the hall
Or in the next town, or the far side of the planet....that's all
I didn't choose you, you know
And you would never have picked me
We only share parents
And some, (well a lot) , of memories
And a hometown, and I guess a private joke or two
I don't have to like you just because of those things, true?
But others in the family keep dragging us back together
Christmas lunch, family picnics, if I could stay home I'd rather
Then I forget what you did
You forget what I said
So we hug and we cry
It's been so long. Why?
We're just friends, (bound by blood) , that we just can't get rid of
Nor would we want to
Because....what in this world would I do
If ever I had to live my life without you
poem by DonnaJ York
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A house that is not seen by the sun, is visited often by the doctor.
No guide is without self motive
I visited a mandir; there were no guides.
I explored and returned. I was confused.
I visited the other; many were the guides.
I wandered and returned; I was in conflict.
Religions do as guides do
24.12.2000, Pmdi
[mandir = temple]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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So I went and visited a doctor and he diagnosed me with reactive arthritis.
quote by Daniel Johns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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