To A Friend Of A Friend
a friend of a friend
has been a widow for 20 years
this she reveals when
she hitched in our car
my wife's face is twisted
and she does not speak a lot
we cut the story short
she gives the direction where she will be dropped
like some garbage
i pity her. i really pity her.
at the red gate she waits
no one opens the door
it is 10 o'clock in the evening
the car backs out
finding itself passing again by the same red gate
she sits on the pavement and holds her bag as though it is her only possession
i don't really know if that is her house
does she lie still at this age?
my wife lambastes me like thunder
unable to hold her contained temper
we cut the story shorter
we leave her on her own
whatever that means
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The House You Live In
Go first in the world, go forth with your fears
Remember a price must be paid
Be always too soon, be never too fast
At the time when all bets must be laid
Beware of the darkness, be kind to your children
Remember the woman who waits
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
When youre caught by the gale and youre full under sail
Beware of the dangers below
And the song that you sing should not be too sad
And be sure not to sing it too slow
Be calm in the face of all common disgraces
And know what theyre doin it for
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre out on the road and feelin quite lost
Consider the burden of fame
And he who is wise will not criticize
When other men fail at the game
Beware of strange faces and dark dingy places
Be careful while bending the law
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your door
When youre down in the dumps and not ready to deal
Decide what it is that you need
Is it money or love, is it learnin to live
Or is it the mouth you must feed
Be known as a man who will always be candid
On questions that do not relate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
And the house you live in will never fall down
If you pity the stranger who stands at your gate
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Booby Prize Or a Fine Romance? 1
Every once in awhile,
you hear a funny story,
and sometimes you wonder
if what is written there
is fiction or true.
Normally you will not question,
in case it embarrasses or offends.
Well I what I am about to tell you
is it a fib or is it true?
Some thirty-eight years ago,
I went to a funeral of a friend
and ended up with the widow
as a booby prize.
So if I told you that
is exactly how I met my wife,
would you believe me
or would you think I am having you on?
You would be wrong
to think I was having you on.
Because it was at her first husband’s funeral that we met.
It was a few weeks later
a bunch of his friend met, in a coffee bar.
Someone suggested
one of us should take the widow out,
and I drew the short straw
and I got the booby prize
all those years ago,
or was it a fine romance.
I will leave it up to you to decide.
2 July 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Pity You
I pity you when you walk down the street
I pity you when you open your mouth to speak
You will tell your story, with its pity and glory
As sympathy is all that you do seek.
I pity you and your parents dear
I pity you when from you they don’t want to hear
As you put them to blame, for your sadness and pain
That’s why for you no-one will shed a tear.
I pity you when you laugh and smile
I pity you as your life is full of guile
But you are the source, for your sadness and remorse
And you wont change even when walking your last mile.
I pity you as you once had something
I pity you as now you have nothing
You threw everything away, so you could stray
Now your retribution will be coming.
I pity you as with time you will age
I pity you with your hate and your rage
You will always fight, whether you are wrong or right
You are the animal and your soul is your cage
I pity you and I do it without a clue
I pity you whenever I see or hear of you
There is no sympathy, as your not my friend or enemy
And all I can say is, that I truly pity you.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Pity Me
Do not pity me, my friend.
Do not pity me.
For I have always lived my life
the way I wanted it to be.
I played. I sang
and laughed a lot.
And all the tears
I cried, I forgot.
Do not pity me, my friend.
Do not pity me.
For I was granted gifts from God,
gifts you cannot see.
A feeling of freedom,
a feeling of peace,
an intuitive knowing
that troubles do cease.
Do not pity me, my friend.
Do not pity me.
For I have learned my lessons well
and know I hold the key
that opens up my diary.
Its pages are filled with anecdotal times
that ring out like bells
and sweet wind chimes.
A marriage of joys
with two baby boys,
a childhood filled
with more than just toys,
Aches and pain
that helped me retain
compassion for those
that suffer life's blows.
So do not pity me, my friend.
Do not pity me.
For I can smile and I can say
I lived my life how I wanted it to be.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Beat Your Dog
If you beat your dog what does this say of you
That to love and compassion you cannot be true
I pity your children and I pity your wife
With you they must have the most miserable life
Your dog is the most aggressive dog on the street
The reason he is this way is that him you mistreat
Each time I pass your locked front yard gate he growls and bares his teeth
Could he escape from the yard him I'd not wish to meet
Those who beat their dog can also beat their wife, daughter and son
For cruelty does not have borders when all is said and done
Your dog does not greet you home from work at the gate
He does not respect you as his master or mate
The fear he has of you in aggression to others he does show
The sort of person you are through your aggressive dog I have come to know.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pity, pity, pity
Look at to the unwanted child
Look at to the divorced wife
Look at to the homeless man
What people do other than saying
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the tragic hero
Look at to the sympathized villain
Look at to the clueless victim
What witnesses do other than staring
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the crazy dreamer
Look at to the unlucky gambler
Look at to the stubborn fighter
What friends do other than whispering
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the withering flower
Look at to the starving animal
Look at to the extinct nature
What human do other than howling
“Pity, pity, pity”
Look at to the empty spaces
Look at to the blank faces
Look at to the lost traces
What devils do other than laughing
“Pity, pity, pity”
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nasty Life
My friend
Married newely...
Fight to fight
Every his wife...
Wife did not
Interest in sex...?
Sex is not
Impreess wife
With husband...
So...
Fights going...
One day crying...
One day lough...
One day sad...
Life move boor
With boor...
My friend wife
Run for mohter's house...
My friend woory...
Pray for god...
Temple to temple...
The family problem is
Not sable...
Months are going...
Years are going...
My friend wife did
Not come...
Move the life...
Husband one side...
Wife one side...
It is life...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Friend You Need
What is a friend?
A real friend you need.
A friend who never gossip
The weakness you have.
A friend who inspired
To explore your strenght.
A friend you can lean on
Who is there to lean a hand
Whenever you need...
A friend who lend money
To help not for the interest.
A friend who opens up his door
With intentions not otherwise.
A friend who don't flatter
To cover the weakness you have.
A friend who will tell face to face
If the travelled road is heading
To what direction it leads...
A friend who will tell your faults
And feel your joy and sorrows.
A friend who understand
The feelings inside ...
A friend who standby you
A light of your life...
A friend indeed is someone
Who feel sad on your failures
And rejoice the success made.
poem by Bonifacio Alba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like a friend
A friend is like a flower that makes you smile when you see her, or a friend is like an ocean that is beautiful and happy, but yet a friend is like a ghost that will be with you forever, a friend is also like a gate that opens your happiness. But a friend is someone who will like you for who you are, you will never have to change for them. A friend is like you!
poem by Molly Graves
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The Dying Gamblers Story
In a little secret Gambling house in a city known for fame
There sits a man of tender years his head bowed down in shame
That young man told a story as sad as can be
And if you will but listen this is what he said to me.
A year ago I had a wife but she was called one day
And as she lay so near to death she pressed my hand to say
I'm giving you my wedding ring to cherish all your life
And with these words the reaper called away my loving wife.
Soon I started gambling til I never had a thing
And on a hand I thought would win I bet my dead wife's ring
I drew the card and looked at it, Oh God I cried aloud
I've lost my dead wife's wedding ring to this drunken jeering around.
When he had finished speaking he bowed his head and sighed
And we who heard his story knew that he had died
But that dying gamblers story didn't mean a thing
Too bad they said, dealt the cards, and bet his dear wife's ring.
poem by Kenneth T. Schofield
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Sonnet: The Souls on the Streets at Night
Pity the beggar lying by roadside;
Pavement’s his bed; a stone, pillow for head!
With ill-clad children/wife scattered beside,
No one can tell if he’s alive or dead!
Pity the soul, whose dwelling is pavement,
Victim of men/ insects/beasts/ wind and rain!
His roof is formed by the vast firmament;
His only wealth- a begging bowl and cane!
Pity the street-children and people lost;
Their suff’ring’s endless, more so when diseased;
Nothing frightens them, not even a ghost;
There’s none to bury them, when they’re deceased.
Pity the man of poverty in street!
God dwells in him; God surely, will he meet.
poem by John Celes
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Two Old Friends
when we were children
we were already friends
in the middle of our own poverties,
we struggled to rise from the lowest
echelon. Years passed. And now
we see each other again.
His fingers are filled with diamond
rings, as big as a fist of a child.
His coat is expensive.
Everything in him is expensive now
His car. A picture of his beautiful wife.
A corporate lawyer too in the
city. He will be taking the bill
tonight in this expensive restaurant.
The finest wine. The exotice cuisine.
As usual, I will do the talking,
as always, since then, he had
always been on the side of silence.
Ask him to tell a joke, he says
he has none. Ask him to tell a
story about himself, he says
there is nothing nice about
his past. Ask him about his
present, he says there is nothing
worth talking about himself.
He has all the secrets hidden
inside his silent gazes. He smiles
to every story that i tell. He
likes my company.
Inside my mind, i could have
asked him: how many persons
have been killed in your name?
How many assets are taken
mercilessly from the hands of
your economic foes? What
brain is this that keeps on
acquiring and scheming and
killing who obstructs his way?
He is my friend, as always and
i do not have the right to ask.
The night is over. It is time to
go home. We are on separate cars
now and he tells me, 'take care! '
Sometimes, i ask myself if i understand
what life is all about really. I am home,
And i decided not to preach,
even to myself. I honk the car,
and the gate opens.
It is 3 o'clock
in the morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Same Old Song & Dance
Get yourself cooler
Lay yourself low
Coincidental murder
With nothing to show
With the judges constipation
Will go to his head
And his wifes aggravation
Youll soon end up dead
Its the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
Its the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
Gotcha with the cocaine
They found with your gun
No smooth face laywer
Could get ya undone
Say love aint the same
On the south side of town
You could look
But you aint gonna find it around
Its the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
Its the same old story
Same old story
Same old song and dance
Fate comes a-knockin
Doors start lockin
Your old time connection
Change your direction
You aint gonna change it
Cant rearrange it
Cant stand the pain
When its all the same to you, my friend
When youre low down and dirty
From walkin the street
With your old hurdy gurdy
No one to meet
Said love aint the same
On the south side of town
You could look
But you aint gonna find it around
Its the same old story
Same old song and dance, my friend
Its the same old story
Same old story
Same old song and dance
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Willie Wastle
Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie.
Willie was a wabster guid
Could stown a clue wi onie body.
He had a wife was dour and din,
O, Tinkler Maidgie was her mither!
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She has an e'e (she has but ane),
The cat has twa the very colour,
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,
A clapper-toungue wad deave a miller;
A whiskin beard about her mou,
Her nose and chin they threaten ither:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She's bow-hough'd, she's hem-shin'd,
Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter;
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o that upon her shouther:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
Auld baudrans by the ingle sits,
An wi her loof her face a-washin;
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her frunzie wi a hushion;
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan Water:
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
poem by Robert Burns
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Two Sons
I HAVE two sons, wife—
Two, and yet the same;
One his wild way runs, wife,
Bringing us to shame.
The one is bearded, sunburnt, grim, and fights across the sea,
The other is a little child who sits upon your knee.
One is fierce and cold, wife,
As the wayward deep;
Him no arms could hold, wife,
Him no breast could keep.
He has tried our hearts for many a year, not broken them; for he
Is still the sinless little one that sits upon your knee.
One may fall in fight, wife—
Is he not our son?
Pray with all your might, wife,
For the wayward one;
Pray for the dark, rough soldier, who fights across the sea,
Because you love the little shade who smiles upon your knee.
One across the foam, wife,
As I speak may fall;
But this one at home, wife,
Cannot die at all.
They both are only one; and how thankful should we be,
We cannot lose the darling son who sits upon your knee!
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
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Good, she isn’t young.
.
I pity for my friend
Who left her wife young
Having met an accident.
Lured by all sort of men,
She is tottering
On a slippery road.
I am fortunate
That my wife is pretty old.
I can die in peace
26.06.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Try Again
Later that evening, only a feeling
But it was there in the air that we share in the twilight
Humming a sad song, where was our day gone
But in the dark was a spark, a remark I remember
"Try again", she replied to some story I told
"Try again", yes I will if I can
Oh, all I need is somebody to hold
Learning a feeling, seeking a meaning
Finding a way, should she stay, how to say let's imagine
Maybe I'll go wrong, an evening that last long
But in the night all the light must be right for this moment
"Try again", she replied to some story I told
"Try again", yes I will if I can
Oh, all I need is somebody to hold
"Try again", she replied to some story I told
"Try again", yes I will if I can
Oh, all I need is somebody to hold
"Try again", she replied to some story I told
"Try again", yes I will if I can
Oh, all I need is somebody to hold
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dog's A Man's Best Friend
Your wife she may not speak to you and your marriage at an end
But your dog will always stick by you, A dog's a man's best friend
Her friendship unconditional she will always stick by you
Until the Reaper claims her to you she will stay true.
Your male dog he will stick by you and your female dog the same
Even when you're in a rotten mood and you call them out of name
Your dogs will overlook your faults and they don't bear a grudge
They love you for the one you are and you they never judge.
The woman you loved and married when you were in your prime
Does not even speak to you nowadays though she loved you at one time
But your dog is so different your heart she will not break
She will stick by you right till the end and you she won't forsake.
Your dog your faults she can forgive so different to your wife
She loves another better now but your dog loves you for life
The greatest friend you'll ever have be it male dog or female
She will always greet you at the gate with a wag of her tail.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In War
Hearing the terrors of the war, sore troubled,
By each new victim of the combat torn--
Nor friend, nor wife I give my utmost pity,
Nor do I for the fallen hero mourn.
Alas! the wife will find a consolation.
The friend by friend is soon forgot in turn.
But somewhere is the one soul that remembers--
That will remember unto death's dark shore,
Nor can the tears of a heart-stricken mother
Forget the sons gone down on fields of gore.
One soul there is that like the weeping willow
Can never raise its drooping branches more.
poem by Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
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That Pity B-Gone!
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
We knew that pity had to split!
B-gone.
We knew that our hearts would split, and soon...
B-gone.
If we let that pity sit,
Between us....
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit,
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit...
Between us!
And...
You'd believe,
That I could never love you.
To leave me feeling sorry,
And blue.
But...
I would know,
How deep inside my love goes.
And protecting what I love,
Before it overflows.
Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!
So...
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And maybe not so much the benefits.
Since I would miss too much your many moods.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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