En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In Front Of Me

In front of me
In her wide, terrace home
She sat on the old rattan chair
Her body was thin
Her hollow eyes to muse in the sky
She wants tell a definite story
Which keep a more forty years ago?
With fear and apprehensive, under the old bones
Because of politic rumors and propaganda,
To lead astray and bring misfortune,

To day, In front of me, a grand ma told me her story
Story of her husband, which she keeps a more 40 years ago
Who had been arrested by military regime?
Because mismanagement, same name
But different person
One is my father friend,
And the other one, a teacher who became member of PGRI Non Vacsentral
Under bow of Indonesian Communist Party

I am and so your mother, both is member
Of democrat women, under bow of PNI Party
But because mismanagement under military regime,
My husband arrested,
As PKI members,
Without any explanation
Where my children need schooling, food for eat
And cloth, house for protect them in growth

However, to day, after forty years she feels free
After told all what happened
Of her husband and all of their suffering

In front of me
All of her depression
All of her oppress
Was free, like butterfly flying on the flower
Of her new gardens
In front of her home terrace

Bogor,11/01/06 15: 33: 34

poem by Prasetya Utama
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The Adulterous Wife

As her Children sleep in their bed
While her husband lays down his sleepy head
She quietly gets up and starts continuing her lies,
As this is the story, of the Adulterous wife.
She lies and cheats and do the sins that she shouldn't,
Sadly though, this isn't the first time for this woman
As in her past she has done this all before
Sadly her husband didn't know, that he had married a whore.
As when he is at work, she was never at home
And when her girl's slept, she was never alone
She lied and cheated and used her husband for a price
As this is the story of the Adulterous wife.
She sneaks out of the house whenever she can
So she can jump in the bed of another man
He then uses her, and then she lies to him
But neither can lie to GOD, when their beginning becomes their end.
And when her daughter's get older and they feel the strife
I wander if they will be like their mother, the adulterous wife
She argues and fights with her husband all the time
Loyalty and love to her husband has been left far behind.
The vow she swore to GOD she has broke it once again
Now she is a marked woman, in front of women and men
She has affairs with her lovers, that only the devil could believe
Asking them to come and rescue her, and set herself free.
She is never happy unless she is in another mans bed
Only happiness she brings that man, is when he is dead
She tells her lies and say all her men of hers are abusers
But she never let them know, that she is but a user.
And she'll keep her lies from yesterday unto today
And while she sins, other men lay down to pray
How sad it is to live that type of sinful life
But this is the true story of the Adulterous wife.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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My Husband

It is true:
My husband
has never
taken out
the garbage
from our little house
in the suburbs.

My husband
has never
taken our children
out for the night
to trick-or-treating
as I sit
on the porch in a witch hat.

My husband
has never
come home from
a long day
to a special meal
I have prepared
just for him.

My husband
has never
told me he loves me
beside a warm fire
on our honeymoon.

But he will.

poem by Erica Francis
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Hong Kong Blues

Its the story of a very unfortunate coloured man
Who got arrested down in old hong kong
He got twenty years privilege taken away from him
When he kicked old buddhas gong
And now hes poppin the piano just to raise the
Price
Of a ticket to the land of the free
Well, he says his homes in frisco where they
Send the rice
But its really in tennessee
Thats why he says
I need someone to love me
Need somebody to carry me home to san
Francisco
And bury my body there
I need someone to lend me a fifty-dollar bill
And then
Ill leave hong kong far behind me
For happiness once again
Wont somebody believe
Ive a yen to see that bay again
Everytime I try to leave
Sweet opium wont let me fly away
I need someone to love me
Need somebody to carry me home to san
Francisco
And bury my body there
Thats the story of a very unfortunate coloured man
Who got arrested down in old hong kong
He got twenty years privilege taken away from him
When he kicked old buddhas gong

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Linley From Dubbo

Though she is only forty four she looks much older
And gray through her shoulder length hair of brown
But twenty years ago she looked a beauty
One of the finest in Dubbo her Hometown.

She married young when she was only twenty
And she was pregnant on her wedding day
She loved her husband and to him was faithful
But her price for loving him too high to pay.

Her angry husband when drunk often beat her
But next morning he'd say I'm sorry dear
I promise you that this again won't happen
Perhaps I ought to give up on the beer.

But his promises to her were quickly broken
The leopard never seems to change his spots how true
He often came home from the pub aggressive
And he often beat poor Linley black and blue.

Till she grew tired of Jack her violent husband
And she took her daughter Jo and headed south
Since that day ten years back she hasn't seen him
And where he now lives she doesn't wish to find out.

Linley from Dubbo is a young grand mother
Her grand daughter will be two years old next may
She won't be going back for to live in Dubbo
In Ferntree Gully she's happy to stay.

Since she left her husband she has had many relationships
But none of them lasted more than a year
But she says soon that she will meet her soul mate
And happy times for her she feels are near.

Despite all she has been through she feels so positive
And she has got a good approach to life
And lovely Linley from Dubbo in her forties
For some lucky man will make a marvellous wife.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Tale Of The Trucker's Life

The young bride sits alone in her house,
waiting for her farm hand husband to return to her lonely bosom.
Enters the husband, tired, and cranky.
He goes to the stereo, hooks up his headphones,
and falls asleep listening to country, and western music.
The bride long since gone to bed alone.
The young mother, and her toddler son
in front of the TV watching movies while the
husband/father works third shift at Wal-Mart 25 miles away.
The mother takes her son to his baseball games,
explains why daddy can't come,
because he decided to be a truck driver.
She is mother, father, and sole teacher to there young son.
She wipes away his tears when he is hurt,
Comforts him when he is sick,
and makes excuses for the absent father
who never has acted like he loved their child.
Who wipes away the tears that the
mother/wife sheds every time she sees
how much their son misses his daddy.
Their little boy puts his arm around his
mother's shoulders and with a hug,
he says, 'mom it will be all right.'
Does the trucker miss his family?
Does he feel the same pain, and sorrow?
He must not care, for he stays gone sometimes four,
sometimes six weeks in a row,
only coming home long enough to make love.
Never does he interact with his son, not really.
The wife, and son now lay in the cold, hard ground,
never to rise again. Now it is too late
for the old trucker to tell them how he really felt.
He sits alone in an old rocking chair,
staring at old, faded photos of his wife,
and son, but he is not in any of the pictures.
He stands in front of the pearly gates of Heaven,
he sees his wife, and son just on the other side,
But they don't recognize him.
So goes the tale of the trucker's life.

poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
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Inside And Out

INSIDE
Brother Seems they're letting him out next year
He's behaving himself, I hear
Governor Conway says it will be fine
Just as long as he can tow the line
It's the same old story
But it says here "Mum you're not to worry"
'Cos some you lose and some you lose
At this party, he was on his own
All he did was say he'd take her home
But it seems they didn't go straight there
'cos on the porch, she told him,
"put your hand here"
Yes it's that same old story
They told her mum she's not to worry
Police "If what she says is so,
we'll never let him go!"
Him "Never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door"
Brother And now that you've paid for those lies
Get another disguise
"It's twenty years now since our Kid came free
Oh I remember August '53
But it wasn't quite like they said
With that behind you, you can't plan ahead
Yes it's the same old story
They say you're free, but don't worry
What they said's not so
They'll never let you go!"
Him "Never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door"
Brother And now that you've paid for those lies
Get another disguise
OUT

song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brother Bill

This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.

2 November 2009

Authors Note:

The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.

DVH - 2009

poem by David Harris
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What Do You Say

What do you say
(michael dulaney, neil thrasher)
Stuck at a red light outside an adult bookstore
His son said, daddy, what are all those xs for
As the light turned green he changed the subject fast
He started talkin bout football as they drove right past
Chorus:
What do you say in a moment like this
When you cant find the words oh to tell it like it is
Just bite your tongue and let your heart lead the way
Lets get out of here oh what do you say
Seventeen years old she was out with her friends
They started drinken at some party til she was three sheets to the
Wind
Her momma always told her she can call no matter what
She was cryin on the front steps when her mom showed up
Repeat chorus
Sometimes you got to listen to the silence
And give yourself a little time to think
Her every breath is weaker than the last
And lately when she sleeps she talks about the past
Her husband knows shes tired of holding on
She looks at him and says I want to go home
What do you say in a moment like this
When you cant find the words to tell it like it is
Just close your eyes and let your heart lead the way
Oh what do you say

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Husband

I'm looking for a husband, you know the sort of chap
The kind of guy who copes with things and never has a flap
The one who fixes cars and bikes and often mows the lawn
Takes the kids on Sunday hikes while I with hammock yawn

I'm looking for a husband, you know the sort of bloke
Who listens to the things I say and laughs out when I joke
He'll do the Sunday B B Q and carves the Sunday roast
Then gives me a foot massage, that's the thing I like the most

I'm looking for a husband dependable and true
Who likes to have discussions but never will argue
Can sit in friendly silence, and never has to babble
Will make and pour the tea for me and lets me win at scrabble

I'm looking for a husband; I know they're pretty rare
The kind who opens doors for me and lets me have his chair
And earns enough at his travail so we're debt and mortgage free
But doesn't put his work ahead of caring about me

The husband I am looking for might seem quite rare to you
And friends have tried to tell me that in number they are few
But I have hope of finding one I hope he will be free
‘Cause I've been one for forty years, I want one just like me!

poem by Christopher Higginson
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Military wives- The silent ranks

I wear no uniforms no blue or army greens I am in the military ranks rarely seen I have no rank upon my shoulders salutes i do not give the military world is the place i live I'm not in the chain of command orders i do not get my husband is the one who does this i cannot forget I'm not the one who fires the weapon who put my life on the line though my job is just as tough I'm the one that's left behind my husband is a patriot a brave prideful man and the call to serve his country not all can understand behind the lines i see the thing needed to keep this country free my husband make the sacrifice but so do our children and i I love the man i married soldiering is his life I stand in the silent ranks know as the military wives

poem by Charity Howard
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City Under A Thousand Lies

Tragedy is the front page story
A city drowned under a thousand lies
And everyday we waste stalling
Is another day we loose a thousand lives
No one really seems to care
Everyone seems to want to leave them there
The city is going down in despair
And no one really seems to care
As long as it doesn’t happen to you
It’s just another front page story
Can’t really explain just how wrong that is to me
The agenda is stuck in the dirt across the sea
When the disaster is in our own backyard we aren’t ready
Quicker to act
On a battle attack
Across the world
Than thousands dying
Right here at home
Way too late to save anything
Obviously it’s too far gone
Tragedy is the front page story
Sell every fucking copy you can
The city is drowning under a thousand lies
And everyday we waste stalling
Claims another thousand lives
Caught on camera the deepest misery
Anarchy and despair everywhere
And yet even though it’s the front page story
No one really seems to care

poem by Jake Warren
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Inside & Out

Released on spot the pigeon e.p., 1977.
Inside
Brother seems theyre letting him out next year
Hes behaving himself, I hear
Governor conway says it will be fine
Just as long as he can tow the line
Its the same old story
But it says here mum youre not to worry
cos some you lose and some you lose
At this party, he was on his own
All he did was say hed take her home
But it seems they didnt go straight there
cos on the porch, she told him,
Put your hand here
Yes its that same old story
They told her mum shes not to worry
Police if what she says is so,
Well never let him go!
Him never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door
Brother and now that youve paid for those lies
Get another disguise
Its twenty years now since our kid came free
Oh I remember august 53
But it wasnt quite like they said
With that behind you, you cant plan ahead
Yes its the same old story
They say youre free, but dont worry
What they saids not so
Theyll never let you go!
Him never a word could be heard
Not even the sound of a bird
Singing it over again, telling a different story
Never the same as before
See the summer going out by the door
Brother and now that youve paid for those lies
Get another disguise
Out

song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My ex-mother in law

My ex-mother in law
was an unusual person
that could wish others
into death

and when my ex-wife’s
first husband died from cancer
she believed
that the Lord God
answered her prayer

and for me
she also prayed a thousand times
that same prayer
and fasted
and put tears with it
although I didn’t really
deserve it,
but here I am still
and it’s another story.

Her husband
falls down on the golf course
and is dead from a heart attack
and he hits his last ball
away into the bushes
without any control.

At the funeral
I had to help carry the coffin,
wash dishes
and what ever
my mother in law asked.

Father in law
had a small black dog
that went everywhere with him
and smoked pipe
like Van Donck
cannot stoke up on table mountain
and the dog
then also had to die
although it was great in health
and could still live for years.

I had to take mother in law
to the vet
as she couldn’t drive a car
and hold the animal
while he got
a last injection
and dig a grave
in the garden
and put him there.

l’Envoi
Now I wonder
what goes into such a person
that after her husband’s death,
she is finished
with every thing of his
and married
in months again
with somebody
to keep her company?

poem by Gert Strydom
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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter

an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father

her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home

she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Cut Em Loose Bruce

Ill tell you the story of cut em loose bruce he was the man who set the outlaws loose prosecution say this boys misbehaven he shoot for fun do pussy, dance and rave home Im comin home home im
Home they say this boys got bigger lies then the whole of england and its all spies but mad old bruce he cut him free theres nothing left to kill so kill a weed with me oh Ill see the sunshine
ll see the sunshine again we all got a friend
We call him little lad he has a lot of enemies but we want him back here he is within four walls we ask obeah to give the jailer a call tonight Im going to party set the fire round the town get
With the boys and shoot the whole place down old gilbert mcbuston had too much mcfuston so they threw him in the lake and took his name Ill tell you the story of cut em loose bruce he was the
Who set the crackpots loose there I stood in front of bruce he was the man who let the idiot loose cut em loose bruce producer pass him the glass and the foil and give him a boost-poof

song performed by by Happy Mondays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let's Have a Party.

Let's have a party, invite the family around,

Tell them it's teat time, and come south bound;

We'll have it as a barbecue, so b.y.o some meat,

But we will supply salad, drinks, and also sweet.

Let's have a party, but dress up in a costume,

Don't say who you are, we have to assume;

And the food will be served as a supper too,

With Chicken, no wine, and some dessert will do.

Let's have a party for children, on Friday,

Seeing its a birthday, the kids will go hooray;

Let's put up streamers, have finger food too,

After all the games and food sing happy birthday to you.

Let's have a pre wedding party, for bride and groom,

Go out to dinner, let's try the sunset room;

We'll book a smorgasbord dinner, make it for forty,

Then come back to our place after, for tea or coffee.

Let's have a Christmas party, all family and a friend,

We'll sing lots of carols, and have a story at the end;

Each bring 1 present, for under the christmas tree,

And thank God for Christmas from you and me.

poem by Margaret Haig
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Father Spoke in Code

Father spoke in code
Mother understood.
She would cry
once he went to bed.
I never understood the code.
My sister didn't either.
As we got older, we quit
asking Mother what he said.

A feral cat claimed our yard.
It would leap the fence
when anyone appeared.
Except, of course, Father.
When he came out to walk
around the garden after supper,
the cat would sit straight up,
then rub against his leg
and look at him as if it understood
what others never could.

My sister used to say
the two of us were proof
Father and Mother
got together twice.
I told her I wasn't so certain.
I looked a lot like Mr. Brompton,
the next-door neighbor.
He used to buy us sugar cones
from the ice cream truck.

My sister, by the way, didn't look
like anyone in the family either,
but that was 40 years ago
when I last saw her.
I went away to college
and she got married.
We were never close after that.
Not even Christmas cards.

Forty years is a long time.
Now, we plan to get together
for a weekend this summer
before one of us dies.
I suggested we wait
till one of us is terminal.
What's the rush, I said.
But my wife told her
I was only kidding,
that we'll be coming
and not to make a fuss.
Burgers and hot dogs
will do just fine.

I know what Sis and I
will talk about that weekend,
the two people we'll always
have in common, no matter
how many years and miles
may lie between us.
Father and Mother have been
dead for decades now
but they're still alive in us.
I talk in code, my wife says,
and my sister cries a lot,
now that her husband's dead.
The one thing I want to know
is if my sister knows
what happened to the cat.
It knew the code,
may have had some answers.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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A Husband...

A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective

A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding

A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry

A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses

A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his

poem by Sarah Holmes
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Where is the Justice?

Smother! !
A house filled with pain
Bottled up emotions
Afraid and worried or her children
Soothing and comforting
For what the end result would be
The mental, emotional and physical abuse
Obviously to break down
Making life hell for her even at school
Who was to know?
That his jealousy would lead to this

A true story
Of how clergy would lie for the wrong of their colleagues
They met at a school
He a teacher and she the secretary
She was the ideal wife and mother
A daughter in a million
On that fateful day he struck with intention
For many days
Police, family and friends in search of her
A crime committed in front of their children
Her body found in the ceiling of their home
Through a single character witness he was exonerated
Their cover up of a crime
Their hypocrisy
How can they lead a people?

poem by Persian Khushi
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love Died Young

They met at the local library
One cold wintry day
They had nice conversation
And later met again at
A local party

He had hair of black
Blue eyes and a lovely smile
He was so handsome in her eyes

Her hair was golden like wheat
Her eyes were emerald green
Her beauty was rare
He adored her

They dated for 2 years
Then one day he fell to his
Knees all pride pushed aside
And he asked her to become his wife

She gratefully accepted his proposal
With God as the witness that day

Three years have passed
Two children came to them
A blessing from God
A boy and a girl-twins they were

Then three years later
The wife falls to the floor
She weakly said: “I am ok now” as
A hand was extended to help her to her feet

After the doctor’s exam
She was told she had a short
Time to live for she could not be healed

Love so young how could this be?
Her husband and two small children struggled
Wondering how could God let such a terrible thing
Happen to such a good family

Love died so young the husband
And children found strength to carry on
The mother lives on through them all
But how they long to find out in the end
Why love had to die so young?
©Copyright 2006 Becky LaPrarie

poem by Becky LaPrarie
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