Needlewoman
I see the fading light of my neighboring Seamstress's room.
The poor widow does embroidery of the mysterious life pattern.
I too have some darn work of my patchy clothes
And I want to borrow a needle and a thread from you.
Is it too late if I knock at your door in the midnight?
And I am sure the evildoers definitely chatter a gossip
When a bachelor meets a widow.
* I dedicate this poem to all the widows of this oblique world.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid
If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.
A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind
A widow is froward, and never will yield;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld.
A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And, cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave.
A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose
When it first beginneth the bud to unclose;
But a widow full-blowen full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.
The widows be lovely, I never gainsay,
But too well all their beauty they know to display;
But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store,
She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.
Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any, it asketh much care;
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A beautiful fun!
In a midnight,
I heard someone whispering,
sweet heart, come to me very close.
no, no, I won't do this.
O.K. I just go out!
Right now,
first, switch the light off.
Then room became dim-lighted.
I kept one of my eye on key-hole.
The scene was going heart-throbbing,
I couldn't keep watching too long.
O' shit!
I am a widow,
I have no right to pay attention,
towards the things of such type.
I have to live like a widow,
every desire, every wish,
is not for me.
I have to live without love.
I can't love any person.
because, I am a widow.
I have always to live
like a saint! like a nun!
What a beautiful fun! !
......................
poem by Sushil Kumar
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Flowers of Heaven; Quiet but uneasy
Sharp needle and the silky thread
friends forever
And I am very familiar
to their friendly chat.
'We do an embroidery of posh flowers
for the unborn child's pillow case
That could be a surprise for Baroness.'
Old seamstress dreams.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Viduate Dame
'Tis the widow of Thomas Blythe,
And she goeth upon the spree,
And red are cheeks of the bystanders
For her acts are light and free.
In a seven-ounce costume
The widow of Thomas Blythe,
Y-perched high on the window ledge,
The difficult can-can tryeth.
Ten constables they essay
To bate the dame's halloing.
With the widow of Thomas Blythe
Their hands are overflowing,
And they cry: 'Call the National Guard
To quell this parlous muss-
For all of the widows of Thomas Blythe
Are upon the spree and us!'
O long shall the eerie tale be told
By that posse's surviving tithe;
And with tears bedewed he'll sing this rude
Ballad of the widow of Thomas Blythe.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Sonnet: The Young Widow
What will she do, the poor widow so young?
Her husband died by accident sudden!
The world will not keep quiet with its tongue;
It blamed the lady for the mishap then.
And now, a few years later, changed have things;
Nay, her agony always does remain;
Her daughter’s growing fast and problems brings;
Though now a doctor, life is sad again.
Society looks down upon a widow!
’Tis a male-dominated cruel world;
What treacherous plight for the lady, oh!
The world on widow-remarriage is cold.
How will she quench her sexual thirsts, O God?
Adulteress in life, she turned, O lord!
poem by John Celes
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Black Widow
I just love my nightmares
I cant wait to sleep
Enjoying all my dreams
Got no regrets
I can be a flash of lightning
Striking down on rocks
Burning down the law
Getting things I never got
Turning the world
Nothing unheard
One night can be more than a day
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
I cant stand the dreamers
Scared of things that fly
They just have sweet fantasies
And fade and die
Nightmares - are so good, so good
And they always end just when they should
Nightmares are cool, nightmares are cruel
I love the fun and the thrill
Just like a black widow
Like a black widow
Black widow
Just like a black widow
Here comes the morning
And who can deny
Leaving the dream is so hard
I love my nightmares
I await their return
And this time, Im dressed to kill, dressed to kill
Just like a black widow............
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Other Side Of Midnight
Late at night Ill be knocking
On your door
Late tonight Ill be calling
You can be sure
Ill be waiting
Standin in the shadows once again
Sneakin, creepin
Howling like a tom cat once again
Oh, therell be nowhere
You can hide
When I take you
On the other side of midnight
You know I dont love you
But I love what you can do
Some more of that hot persuasion
This time its (? ) just like you
Oh, therell be nowhere
You can hide
When I take you
On the other side of midnight
Ill be knockin
The other side of midnight
Ill be callin
The other side of midnight
Knock, knockin
The other side of midnight
Im gonna take you
Im gonna make you
At midnight, at midnight
Late at night
Ill be knock knock knockin
On your door
I said late tonight Ill be callin
You can be sure
Im gonna take you
Oh, its gonna hurt so good
Im gonna make you do
What a bad girl should
Oh, therell be nowhere to hide
When I take you
On the other side of midnight
The other side of midnight
Ill be knockin
The other side of midnight
Ill be callin
The other side of midnight
On the other side
Ill be waitin, Ill be callin
The other side of midnight
Ill be knock knock
Knockin at midnight
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Widow At Windsor
'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor
With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?
She 'as ships on the foam -- she 'as millions at 'ome,
An' she pays us poor beggars in red.
(Ow, poor beggars in red!)
There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses,
There's 'er mark on the medical stores --
An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind
That takes us to various wars.
(Poor beggars! -- barbarious wars!)
Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor,
An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns,
The men an' the 'orses what makes up the forces
O' Missis Victorier's sons.
(Poor beggars! Victorier's sons!)
Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor,
For 'alf o' Creation she owns:
We 'ave bought 'er the same with the sword an' the flame,
An' we've salted it down with our bones.
(Poor beggars! -- it's blue with our bones!)
Hands off o' the sons o' the Widow,
Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop,
For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors frown
When the Widow at Windsor says "Stop"!
(Poor beggars! -- we're sent to say "Stop"!)
Then 'ere's to the Lodge o' the Widow,
From the Pole to the Tropics it runs --
To the Lodge that we tile with the rank an' the file,
An' open in form with the guns.
(Poor beggars! -- it's always they guns!)
We 'ave 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor,
It's safest to let 'er alone:
For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an' the land
Wherever the bugles are blown.
(Poor beggars! -- an' don't we get blown!)
Take 'old o' the Wings o' the Mornin',
An' flop round the earth till you're dead;
But you won't get away from the tune that they play
To the bloomin' old rag over'ead.
(Poor beggars! -- it's 'ot over'ead!)
Then 'ere's to the sons o' the Widow,
Wherever, 'owever they roam.
'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require
A speedy return to their 'ome.
(Poor beggars! -- they'll never see 'ome!)
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Call It Evil (demo)
I've been around watching little late shows
Drink a lot of beer
Like playing cards with my friends
Call it evil
Call it pain
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door, Yeah!
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Going to get as my babe.
It goes knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Playing sopwith in the back of my head
What you trying to be crazy?
People look at me, they look at me, but you're dead
Call it evil
Call it pain
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, on my door
It goes knock, knock, knock-knock-knock-knock, come on
Knock-knock-knock-knock, one more
Knock-knock-knock-knock
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
That rock and rock, yeah, call it evil
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, on my door
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forbidden Love
Late at midnight very thirsty and through the darkness
I see a pesticide bottle is hanging and shining in my room
Like a twinkling star.
I always keep promises and my wife is fast asleep.
The widow next door,
She is still singing her monotonous song.
My inner soul is very inquisitive.
Is that a lament or an invitation?
*Mind is like a wild beast and always travels to restricted areas?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song For Heroes
Captain O’Hare was a mariner brave;
He refused to abandon his ship;
A hero, he sleeps in a watery grave—
And his widow is now Mrs. Bipp,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Bipp!
Henri Dupont was a fearless young ace;
Five thousand feet up he was hit;
Each year on his grave pretty flowers we place—
And his widow is now Mrs. Schmitt,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Schmitt!
Corporal Dunn was a volunteer bold;
He plunged in the deadliest fray;
A bayonet thrust laid him out stony cold—
And his widow is now Mrs. Gray,
Haw! Haw!
His widow is now Mrs. Gray!
But Peter McGuck was a cowardly sneak,
Like a hound he remained home in fear;
When fishing one day he fell into the creek—
And his widow is now Mrs. Greer,
Haw! Haw! Haw!
Mrs. William O’Houlihan Greer!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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The Black Knight's Song
Knight And Wamba
There came three merry men from south, west, and north,
Ever more sing the roundelay;
To win the Widow of Wycombe forth,
And where was the widow might say them nay?
The first was a knight, and from Tynedale he came,
Ever more sing the roundelay;
And his fathers, God save us, were men of great faine,
And where was the widow might say him nay?
Of his father the laird, of his uncle the squire,
He boasted in rhyme and in roundelay;
She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire,
For she was the widow would say him nay.
Wamba
The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails,
Merrily sing the roundelay;
Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales,
And where was the widow might say him nay?
Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffith ap Hugh
Ap Tudor ap Rhice, quoth his roundelay;
She said that one widow for so many was too few,
And she bade the Welshman wend his way.
But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent,
Jollily singing his roundelay;
He spoke to the widow of living and rent,
And where was the widow could say him nay?
Both
So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire,
There for to sing their roundelay;
For a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent,
There never was a widow could say him nay.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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I have invited our little seamstress to take her thread and needle and sew our two mouths together.
quote by Harry Crosby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Widow McFarlane
I was the Widow McFarlane,
Weaver of carpets for all the village.
And I pity you still at the loom of life,
You who are singing to the shuttle
And lovingly watching the work of your hands,
If you reach the day of hate, of terrible truth.
For the cloth of life is woven, you know,
To a pattern hidden under the loom i
A pattern you never see!
And you weave high-hearted, singing, singing,
You guard the threads of love and friendship
For noble figures in gold and purple.
And long after other eyes can see
You have woven a moon-white strip of cloth,
You laugh in your strength, for Hope o'erlays it
With shapes of love and beauty.
The loom stops short! The pattern's out!
You're alone in the room! You have woven a shroud!
And hate of it lays you in it!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Is this an omen of a senile wind?
My beloved became an infant
And crying in the cot.
I was the cruel day care teacher
Who changes her diaper.
And the next door widow strums her monotonous harp
Marco's yelp woke me up.
*She grumbles in the morning why I called the widow's name several times.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Widow of Massacre
Some said she lost,
None said she crossed,
Nothing was known clear
Something about her was fear.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
If asked, she never say,
because witness you can pay,
She lost hee husband,
Then lost her hand.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
Behind her, there're stories,
Behind stories, there's worries,
Her village was ambushed,
And in bullets, washed.
Everything, though said,
She's a widow of massacre.
She survived the claws of wild,
After death of her single child,
Finally she ran to this village,
Where we paid her homage.
Everything, though said
She's a widow of massacre.
poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poor Boy’s Christmas
Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widow’s orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
What need of costly gifts has he?
The widow has nowhere to flee.
And ample noise his horn emits
To drive the widow into fits.
MORAL:
The philosophic mind can see
The uses of adversity.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Knock On Any Door
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Baby knock on any door
Knock on any door
Is there any place you want to go
Baby who you lookin for
Yeah, yeah, baby now you know
Its a cold world like they told you so
Knock on any door
Save your tears for some occasion
Keep your heartache to yourself
Knock on any door
Its a simple operation
Just trade your memory for your health
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Its insane girl, you cant run away
Its the same world it was yesterday
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
Now, now, now how do you survive
With a pain so real, in a world so jive
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Peek through any shade
Knock on any door
Look through any window
Walk on
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gloria
Yeah, right.
Did you hear about my baby? she come around,
She come round here, the head to the ground?
Come round here just about midnight,
She makes me feel so good, make me feel all right.
She come round my street, now
She come to my house and
Knock upon my door
Climbing up my stairs, one, two
[unwriteable improvisation]
Come on baby
Here she is in my room, oh boy
Hey whats your name?
How old are you?
Whered you go to school?
Aha, yeah
Aha, yeah
Ah, ah yeah, ah yeah
Oh haa, mmm
Well, now that we know each other a little bit better,
Why dont you come over here
Make me feel all right!
Gloria, gloria
Gloria, gloria
Gloria, gloria
All night, all day
All right, okey, yey!
(gloria, gloria)
You were my queen and I was your fool,
Riding home after school.
You took me home
To your house.
Your fathers at work,
Your mamas out shopping around.
Check me into your room.
Show me your thing.
Whyd you do it baby?
Getting softer, slow it down
Softer, get it down
Now you show me your thing.
Wrap your legs around my neck,
Wrap your arms around my feet, yeah
Wrap your hair around my skin.
Im gonna huh, right, ok, yeah.
Its getting harder, its getting too darn fast
Its getting harder
All right!
Come on, now, lets get it on.
Too late, too late, too late,
Too late, too late, too late,
Cant stop, wow!
Make me feel all right!
Gloria, gloria
Gloria, gloria
All night, all day
All right, okey, yey!
Gloria, gloria
Keep the whole thing going, baby!
All right!
All right!
Aaaaah
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: On Widows
My heart feels truly sorry for widows,
Who're young and lose their husbands suddenly;
What quirk of fate has given them such woes?
-Of solitude, sexlessness forcefully.
My mind is angered yet, when I behold,
A frantic widow searching for a mate!
Her heart is cold, vixen-like, she is bold;
A female-spider-like, she waits to bait.
My God, how pangs of sex affect women,
Who've tasted love's magic potion on bed?
The widows are much worse off than such men,
Their bosom's fire aren't so easily dead.
Yet, how will widows fight their love onslaughts?
-Companionless, for life, on empty cots?
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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