En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Paradox

A philanthropist who has nothing
as he gave everything.
Only his spouse and two daughters remaining.
One day a beggar came and asked for alms.
He searched everywhere in the house
but nothing found.
At last he gave him the children.
Wife mourned the whole day.
The following night
a thief found nothing in the house
and stolen his wife.

[ This is an adoption of a Buddhist literature]

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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That's The Sum Of It

I don't know which to mourn. Both have died on me, my wife and
my car. I feel strongly about my car, but I am also affected by my,
wife. Without my car, I can't leave the house to keep myself from
being alone. My wife gave me two children, both of whom, of course,
no longer live with us, as was to be expected, as we in our youth left
our parents behind. With my car, I could visit my children, when they
are not too busy.

Before she died, my wife urged me to find another woman. It's advice
I'd like to take up but not without a car. Without a car. I cannot find
myself another woman. That's the sum of it.

poem by David Ignatow
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The Spaewife

OH, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.
An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.

Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Hoo a’things come to be whaur we find them when we try,
The lasses in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.

Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why lads are a’ to sell an’lasses a’ to buy;
An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.

Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Gin death’s as shure to men as killin’ is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.

Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,
Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Dear Wife

Dear Wife I write you this poem
As I have been told it would do me well,
To let you know what you have done to me,
And ask why you put me through all this hell.
I brought you here all the way from your home
To be my wife and my love forever more,
I then gave you all, and I did without,
But then your went knocking at other mens door.
I then found out you were telling lies about me
And love letters and phone calls to other men you sent
But you I had trusted with my whole heart and soul
So your many affairs on me, I never had the hint.

Dear Wife this is your poem
I hope you read it over and over again
Your sister said your affair on me wasn't your first
As you did it also with your other husbands and men.
Did you tell anyone else what you did too me
About mentally and physically abusing me all the time
And how you always put yourself always first
And never what was yours was also was mine.
You left our house when your family had slept
So you could go out and be with with another man
As you didn't care who you used or had hurt
And you I don't think no one could ever understand.

Dear Wife here is more of your poem
I truly hope that you will read it all
Have you told anyone who you left me for
Or are you ashamed and want that to be my call.
He too is a liar and and user and also a thief
And in so many ways he is just like you
As he too has not a job but lives off others
So he now tells you what you can or cannot do.
He had cheated on his wife so she left him
And also I found out he is a Momma’s boy
He is a coward and he cant fight his own fight
And as you know all of that is a true story.

Dear Wife here is more of your poem
There is so much more that I need to write
Are you going to raise your daughters the way you live
And have them believing that you were always right.
Will they think its alright to jump from one man to another
And its better to always take than it is to give,
And to ignore GOD’S word and think only of themselves
Tell me is that how you want them to live.
Soon one day all of your family and friends will find out
Of all of your lying and the ways that you do act
And hopefully none of your family will turn out like you
And as you know those are not lies, but only fact.

Dear Wife this of course is your poem
And you know that none of it is a lie
I never expected what you had done to me
So deep inside my soul I surely did die.
I kept all the messages you sent in your letters
Even the one about your hickey given in our house
The one your bragged about that was given to you
And it wasn't given by me, your spouse.
I remember when you told your daughters and me
How every Sunday that you had to go to school,
Even on Valentines day and your Birthday you had to go
Then I found out it was lie, and once again I am the fool.

Dear Wife here is some more of your poem
I am beginning to feel a lot better now,
As I did nothing wrong and it was always you,
And truly I do feel so happy with my soul and I am proud.
You committed adultery and you robbed and you stole,
And I stayed truthful to my wife and love which was you,
When you were abandoned in Scotland for over a year
Remember it was I your husband who wanted you.
I still have the pictures and the mail you had sent
And everyone even your family knows of your past,
All your adultery and affairs and cheating you have done,
The evils you have done to others will always last.

Dear Wife again this is your poem
If not without you it would of never been born
Some talk about the fury inflicted by scorned women
But I tell you this, a man too does not like to be scorned.
You have gossiped and criticized everyone in your life
Told of secrets and promises that you swore to keep
You honor no one and loyalty is not your friend,
And for you soul, sad to say no one will ever weep.
You have talked about your sisters and your brother
You said of their problems that they have many
Then you talked about your ex-husbands and ex-lovers
And this and we say Wife; Problems you have many.

Dear Wife This is the end of my poem
I hope truly that you have read it well,
And I hope all that know you, have read it too,
As they will too know, the truth is all that I did tell.
You have no conscience or dignity about yourself,
Is that why you changed your looks once again,
You cant change your soul, like changing of your hair
Seems you cant stay away from adultery and sin.
When you sleep tell me how do you sleep
I bet you sleep well, that is if you have not a soul,
And are you waiting for another man to come in your life,
So you can again start another life not far down the road.

Dear wife, I wander will your daughters be like you
Later in years when women they will become
You already have taught them how to lie and steal
And how to use men for gain and also fun.
I remember when they told me about all your boyfriends
And all the men you had stay with you for the night
And sad to say I later became one of those men
I guess I became the man next in your expanding line.
I wander if your daughters are happy with you
And the life that you gave them to live
They don't know how to be true and virtuous woman
The greatest present a mother to her daughter she could give.

Dear Wife, that name I wont call you anymore
As my wife to me you can never be
As you did the sins no other wife would ever do
And everyone of that one fact would always agree.
So you can tell your lies to everyone that you meet
Do you believe any one but a sinner would believe your lies
As you don't and never did walk the steps of morality or virtue
Now when you feel the cold wind that is GODS sadden sigh.
So using me and abusing me will happen no more
As to my mind and soul on that one thought I do reflect
As i can do so much better but you will not ever
And now my Dear Wife, you will ever be known as my ex.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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They Went Home (Terzanelle) (In Answer To Maya Angelou)

They visited her when the wife was not around,
they found her house antiseptic clean,
tracked her down where ever she was to be found,

while she was full of passion like a nymphomaniac Herculean
all kinds of men knew her lips,
they found her house antiseptic clean,

knew the shape of her legs and hips
but some was treated better still,
all kinds of men knew her lips,

and they visited one night or more to get a thrill
before they went home to the sweet wife,
but some was treated better still,

before they went to a loving family and a clear-cut life
they experienced her really intimately
before they went home to the sweet wife

and everyone that were visiting her left separately.
They visited her when the wife was not around,
they experienced her really intimately
tracked her down where ever she was to be found.

[Reference: They went home by Maya Angelou.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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My Lord Is Always Joking At Me

My lord is always joking at me.

When I asked for a bicycle
he gave me a car.

When I asked for a computer
he gave me a mobile phone.

When I asked for a book
he gave me a pen and a pad of paper.

When I ask for money
he gave me some trees.

When I asked for a bedroom
he gave me a house with a garden
that has many flowers....

My lord is always joking at me!

Though my lord is always joking at me
I know he loves me, anyway.

poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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This And That

I ASKED FOR BREAD!
A STONE THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR WATER!
A CUP OF VENOM THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR MEAT!
LO! VEGETABLES THEY GAVE ME!
I ASKED FOR CLOTHES!
AND THEY GAVE ME RAGS!
I ASKED FOR WEALTH!
AND THEY GAVE ME POVERTY!
I ASKED FOR PEACE!
AND THEY GAVE ME TROUBLES!
I ASKED FOR LOVE!
AND THEY GAVE ME WICKEDNESS!
TEMPT NOT THIS LORD!
ASK ME NOT FOR HELP!
FOR I SHALL GIVE TO YOU AS YOU GAVE TO ME!
TEMPT ME NOT I SAY!
ASK ME NOT FOR THIS!
FOR I SHALL GIVE YOU THAT!

poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Togetherness Is Gone

My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me

My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired

My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home

My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired

My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early

My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast

My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet

My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?

My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?

My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends

My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume

My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear

My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?

My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?

poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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Thief

I shook my head and I grind my teeth
As I stood in horror and also disbelief
My property was stolen, my eyes were swollen
As in my house came and gone was a thief.
They took and stole what was not theirs to own
To their actions and deeds they must condone
They gave no reason, for their sin and treason
But one day soon to these crimes they will atone.
My house to them become their private store
They came through the window and left through the door
They went through my house, as quite as a mouse
But when they left my home it was in an uproar.
I wondered to myself why did they steal from me
What I owned and had was my own property
Questions to my mind, kept my soul in a bind
Why this and why that I kept thinking constantly.
I took deep breaths to bring upon myself relief
Then the solitude came but it was only brief
I clinched a fist, and then my wall I did hit
Then I shouted there is nothing worse than a thief.

poem by Randy McClave
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Sonnet: What Joy!

I lost a book and found it at long last;
The joy when I saw it again was great;
I lost many other things in the past;
I searched my house entire like a feat!

I lost my poem new and almost cried;
My heart just leapt with joy when I found it;
I lost my wealth-details and almost died;
God gave them back after I prayed a bit.

What joyful tears filled father’s eyes when came
His prodigal son after many years!
What joy afilled a mother’s heart when blame-
Afreed daughter returned home without fears!

The joy that fills heaven when souls are saved
Cannot be imagined by minds God gave!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-6-2006

poem by John Celes
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The educated Monkey

At the Zoological gardens
I gave a banana to a monkey
and he nicely peeled it
like a man.
When I got closer
he asked my ball point pen
and I gave him.
He searched for a piece of paper
and found inside it seems.
I saw he wrote something, rolled and threw it out.
What a miracle?
This was written.
'The caged animals are harmless
Beware of the human beings'.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Don’t hurt them

Don’t hurt them
A song sings by a mosquito bound me to awake in the mid night.
I found that some thieves were stealing my articles from my house.
One of them have stolen my television and other one stolen another article
And one of them taken the book
In which my poem
“Bound to work” was written.
He reads my poem
And said to his fellows that
This house is belongs to a poet
Who thinks always for poor and toiling people of our society?
Such people are few in this world.
So we must not hurt such people like him.
So please put all articles back in his house properly.
We will see another house for our bread.
I appreciate their feelings for poets like me.

poem by Vijay Gupta
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Silly; Old Age; Marriage: Who Put The Vacuum Cleaner Away?

I biked to Radio Road yesterday while my wife vacuumed house.
When I got back she was at computer, .....quiet as a mouse.
I did a little chore or two outside before starting late day routine.
I read to my wife as she fixed the evening meal. I'm sure the house was clean.

Sometimes when she vacuums, I find the vacuum left in my way.
Then, if she's finished, I help..... by putting it in its place. Hey!
Yesterday I found no vacuum left about. My wife is getting better.
The progress of my feet (through our house) no vacuum cord did fetter.

So it was a minor shock to me what my wife said this morning.
[ It wasn't a world-shaking statement, but I had no real warning.]
She said 'thank you for putting vacuum cleaner away.' Something like that at least.
It was nothing I expected to hear from her....at our late morning feast.

[Our conversation then went something like this; I will paraphrase.]

He: 'no I didn't put it away sweetheart. Are you in a daze? '
She: 'no I'm not in a daze my dear. I'd not store it that way.'
He: 'wife, I'm not kidding you. If I'd done it I would say.'
She: 'I don't put it under the seat that way. I'd have left it neater.'
He: 'I'll challenge you to a senility test.' [I think that I could beat her.]
She: 'I'm really worried about you Bri. Who will care for you? '
Don't you remember putting it away? Please Bri, tell me true.
He: I'm telling you the truth dear wife. Why would I lie to you? '
Ok, sometimes I'm forgetful, but at times you are too.'
She: I did not put it away. I would not leave the lace on the seat askew.'
He: 'I love you dear wife. Maybe I did do it....., but I think you did....I do.'

poem by Bri Edwards
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If there's God why I die

‘’Is there God then why I die’’
Wife of ant says
‘’ Why wife of ant says if there’s God
Why I die, filthy feminine house I will
Burn down and leave’’
God says

‘’Is there God then why my children die’’
Wife of ant says’’
‘’Why wife of ant says if there’s God
Why my children die, filthy clitorising rain giraffe, I will sow seed of hairy itching grass under her feet, will grow to waist’’
God says

Wife ant opened her head to sun
She asks
‘’ Is there anything worst on earth than
Soaking of my waist in mourning tears for years
Wuw nothing’’
God rubbed his nose, nguu….
Says ‘’I will see who’s strong
Me or wife of ant

Ninety days later
Wife of man whom God nickname as ant
Whelped puppy
Strange, horrible and unnatural
‘’O God, why my wife give to puppy’’
Man prayed

‘’ To teach your wife lesson
So tomorrow she’ll not mock me again
If she attempt, I wipe off her eyes in world
And her seed will not grow on earth
My land’’
God says

poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Sons And Daughters

There's a place in the city they call the Archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
and I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldn't know I was with them no more
When they said, "Where's me dad?" She'd say, "He's a star!"
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and I've got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage breaks up you're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom

Life torments me day and night
never leaving me a moments rest
Oh! God if there is any above the sky
I need freedom, please listen to me
can you hear me, Freedom! Freedom!
I saw in the cold night
an aeroplane or a flying saucer
landed to the field where I stood
someone got down from the plane
and came towards me.
I asked him who are you?
He said a messenger from God
and he gave me a box of gold
which I could not hold
before I opened it, saw something written on the lid.
a gift from your forefathers
the wealth inside to all
those who have the faith in God
divide them into equal.
The box is full of money, oh! money is everything
dollars, pounds, marks, roubles, yens and et cetera.
I did not give a share to anybody and all I spent for myself.
I built a castle on the hilltop
and put a sign at the gate
'Beware of Dogs'
I am the almighty of all and ruling this world
the poor soul cried for freedom
even I am not free at all.
When he cried for freedom
I gave him money and he asked more
I gave him a spouse pure
he is nagging that she is barren
then I gave him children.
He never get satisfied ask more and more
finally I gave him the death.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Wife and Her Benefits

Wife is a maid without payment.
As a bed mate, a house maid,
A care taker, a cook, a nurse,
She serves her spouse and his kids
For the wages of title - wife.
Retirement benefit is, perhaps, widowhood.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My House of Human Skin

Look at me now, no uncouth wife
No mocking kids, no drab sex life
It all seems so immaterial in
My House of Human Skin

The waves of doubt that lapped my shores
Were quashed among the slavish whores
That visited my halls within
My House of Human Skin

I now have cold philosophy
That always comes easy to me
My thoughts will move forever in
My House of Human Skin

I am not God, I am not grace
Though I may have a normal face
I gave up being your kin within
My House of Human Skin

Emotionless, I walk these halls
Don't feel the need to talk no more
I cannot feel at all within
My House of Human Skin

One night some blacked-out faceless men
Took me away, I fought, I rent
But blood and bone were not within
My House of Human Skin

Now I stare at mattressed walls
I can no longer walk the halls
Yet my mind soars on mental wings
Cannot be stopped by trivial things
I've never been confined within
My House of Human Skin

poem by Matt Pocock
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter I)

A man named Job, lived in Uz;
He was an upright, blameless man;
He was a God-fearing one too;
He turned away from all evil.

He was the greatest in the East;
He had a wife and children ten-
Three daughters and sons seven.

He owned a lot of animals-
Sheep- seven thousand,
Camels- three thousand,
Oxen in yoke- five hundred,
Female asses- five hundred,
Beasts of burden- many more!

His birthday was held by his sons;
Their sisters came to eat and drink;
Job blessed them all and sent away;
Next day, he offered burnt offerings;
He did this often telling God,
“Perhaps, my children have sinned, Lord! ”

When angels came before Yahweh,
Satan too joined them, one day;
The Lord asked him, “Whence do you come? ”
And Satan told, “By roaming earth,
And going on lands, back and forth.”

God asked, “Did you notice my servant Job?
There’s none like him upon the earth! ”
Satan said, “Does Job fear You for free? ”

“You placed a hedge around his house;
You’ve blessed his work in abundance;
Just touch his things; he’ll renounce You.”

God said, ‘You may test him but spare his life.’
So, Satan went from God to earth.

One day, when job with family ate,
A messenger gave him bad news:
‘Sabeans took your asses, oxen,
Killed all servants, just I escaped’

Another told, ‘God’s fire fell down
And burnt the sheep and servants all;
Just I escaped to tell you this.’

A third one said, ‘The Chaldeans
In three bands took camels away
Killed all servants and sped their way,
Just I escaped to tell today.’

A fourth one said, ‘A fierce wind came
Flattened your house and left all dead,
Just I escaped to tell you this! ’

Job shaved his head and tore his robe,
And fell upon the ground, prostrate.
He worshipped God, his Lord and said,
‘Naked I came from mother’s womb,
Now, naked shall I too return.
God gave and took; Bless’d be His name! ’
Job didn’t sin nor God, did he blame.

poem by John Celes
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That Illusion

The night weeps its sentiment to us all, but oh how
Many lines have begun like that:
And I wish I could be more original for you;
And now I want to walk to your house again:
I want to be a flag on your body rippling and casting for gold,
Because now haven’t I seen you captivated high up in the clouds
In a house of giants:
Isn’t it a white man’s house: even further, isn’t it my house,
Alma:
I want to find you and stretch you out and ask your where your beautiful
Belt has gone,
And to which knight you gave it to, to save his neck:
I know you gave it to one knight on his lunch break, but to which
One I am uncertain,
But I want to be your king just so I can have the authority to find these
Things out,
And to feed my life-giving poultry to your children:
Alma, I dream of you walking your children to the bus stop,
And I dream of you walking through cut out snowflakes and paper airplanes:
I dream of you always on the move, Alma, because your body gives off
That illusion while it smokes and sweats my dreams.

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Sons & Daughters

(ian hunter)
Theres a place in the city they call the archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
And I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldnt know I was with them no more
When they said, wheres me dad? shed say, hes a star!
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and Ive got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage breaks up youre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done

song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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