A warning to mother in law
Mother-in-law! With your power,
don’t ill treat your daughter-in-law
when she enters your home as bride.
She will store it to repay later
when you, as old, are at her mercy.
Everone of you is warned
but none of you has learned
26.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Accept the bitter reality.
You buy this and that all the time
to adorn your grand daughter
but neglect her mother altogether.
To adorn your daughter-in-law
is to feed the eyes of your son.
Mother-in-law, where is your wisdom?
23.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You must be realistic realistic
Is it possible that you can seek a bride
Who never fell in love with anyone
Or with whom no one ever was in love?
It is like seeking one in whose home
No death was ever born?
05.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An old to live single is a hell
Your mother had mercy
When you were young.
Your children had sympathy
When they were young.
Your spouse shows empathy
When you grow invalid.
You struggle in hell
When you outlive your spouse.
The one who did sin
Will have his end like this.
28.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Patriarchy rules
Woman loves her mother.
Her mother in law cannot match.
When both are no more,
It is the mother in law
That she remembers most
Identity impose such feelings
A proof of patriarchy.
08.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Song: XI
Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.
Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.
Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.
Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.
Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .
Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?
poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
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Love is unequal to bequeath
Son, your mother can love you
In a way no one can excel.
Her love for your child limits
As it, another lady mothered.
Daughter, your father can love you
In a way no one can excel.
His love for your child limits
As it, another man fathered.
Woman loves daughter’s child.
Man loves son’s child.
20.04.2001 Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A painful passage
I wept and wept, endlessly wept,
Like of which I have never wept
Save at the time of my mother’s death,
While some sequences I read
Off the book ‘The Blind Assassin’
Of Ms Margaret Atwild, wherein
A little girl, by name, Griffen
Watches speechless the gaze of the mother,
Who is in sick bed, the little sister
Being away at play, quite unaware,
And the mother in her feeble voice
Beseeching her to take care of her sister,
To which she assuredly nods and weeps
At the impending end of her mother,
Without thinking who is there to take
Her own care or that what is in store.
I wept and wept, endlessly wept
As the two little sisters resembled
My two granddaughters, me their mother,
As though their mother is in death bed,
With fear of death looming over my head.
I wept and wept, recurrently wept
When I read, wrote and rewrote
The above passage many a time.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The old grows mad.
Old man is in rage,
For, over ages,
His store of knowledge
And the acquired skill
Lie in waste,
With no takers in sight.
More mentally,
Than physically,
He fast grows sick.
31.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother only is taken for granted.
A mother can’t bear her son’s death
Even when it happens so late
A son wishes her mother’s death
When it is to delay too much.
Yet, posthumously he mourns for her loss;
In her only he sought his birth right shelter.
10.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The double standard
How revealing the modal is!
How glamorous she is!
My sister or my wife or my mother
Are not to be modals.
10.03.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Woman’s pity
As a puppy is put to love the master
When she is brought from her mother,
Even so is the woman from her parents.
As a cow is free to follow the cowherd
When she is let out from the cowshed,
Even so is the housewife from her yard.
As a hen is set to ignore the cock
When she hatched her chicks,
Even so is the mother with her kids.
22.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Devils Daughter
Well I know where you live
I know you live alone
Ill pay a visit in your darkest hour
ve got a treat in store
Wont be the same no more
And I will demonstrate my holy power
Chorus:
I see through
What is it inside you
Ill make you
Breakdown, breakdown
Breakdown and cry
Devils daughter
You dont want a holy war.
Devils daughter
You dont want a holy war
You know what Im about
Ill cast the demons out
And Ill persist until the battles won
Ill feel your creeping flesh
If youre to be possessed
Then I will desecrate what youve become
Chorus
Devils daughter
You dont want a holy war
Devils daughter
The time has come at last
Your future days have past
No use in fighting battles you cant win
The final conflicts lost
You cant afford the cost
Dont try to expiate your fathers sins
Chorus
Breakdown, breakdown
Breakdown and cry
D...d...d...devils daughter (Im watching you watching you)
D...d...d...devils daughter (Im watching you watching you)
D...d...d...devils daughter (Im watching you watching you)
D...d...d...devils daughter aaahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity ensures sacrifice.
Once I sold my gold for my sister to wed.
I had a pride on it.
Now when my mother has given her hers
I am piqued by it.
My sister and I are liberated from the identity.
At my mother’s age I may emulate her.
How will be my son for his sister?
27.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The henpeck one is the real cock
Don’t despise a hen pecked husband.
He is a perfect cock to her in bed.
The one who wields power on women
Must be a snail to her in bed.
10.02.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Have Mercy
(d covay)
Have mercy, have mercy baby
Please have mercy,have mercy on me
Oh have mercy, please have mercy baby
Have mercy mercy, have mercy on me
Went to see the gypsy, to have my fortune read
She said your babys gonna leave you
Shes got her bags stashed under the bed
Have mercy, have mercy baby
Please have mercy,have mercy on me
If you stay here baby, tell you what Im gonna do
Im gonna work to a job, seven days a week
Bring my money home to you
Have mercy mercy mercy , have mercy baby
Oh have mercy,have mercy on me
Hey baby, hey now
What you tyrin to do
Hey baby, hey now
Please dont say were through
Have mercy mercy, have mercy baby
Oh have mercy,have mercy on me
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bride Colored With Blood
In our country Parents feel proud.
When their daughter becomes not yet thirteen years old (poor kid)
Instead Of educating her mind to study to become successful one
They begine to tell her how beautiful bride she will become at the dress of bride
And soon their wish becomes real
And the poor kid becomes a bride
She leaves away her pride
Her dreams bright when she wears the white
White dress colored with blood
Leaving behind dreams of purple future
Her childish pure dreams
Her innocency
She enters the groove of cruelty
when she is still alive!
.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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My Real Goddess
Today my mother
Came to my house
With lots of blessing
And full of good wishing
To live long
Happy and healthy
Progressive and wealthy
My mother
My sweet mother
My beautiful mother
My loving mother
My real goddess
My ever goodness
My first lady I loved
My life my mother
My soul my mother
My God-gift my mother
My pride my mother
My aim my mother
My teacher my mother
My friend my mother
My preacher my mother
My daughter's face look-like my mother
My daughter my little mother
O the Absolute Almighty
Give me my mother
Again and again
And again and again
My mother
Only my mother.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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Your Mother Should Have Told You
Your looks are sensational
Where do I begin?
You're so unbelievable
It must be a sin
I try to keep pace with you
But I never win
You're on the attack again
I'll have to give in
You look fully grown
I thought you'd have known
Your mother should have told you
Girls turn into women
Your mother should have warned you
You fall in love and then
Your mother should have told you
You're sinking or you're swimming
Your mother should have warned you
Boys turn into men
Her manners are counterfeit
But she knows how to act
And when you get used to it
It's better than fact
You never can tell the real from pretend
You liked the beginning
Well, wait'til the end
You look fully formed
You should have been warned
Your mother should have told you
Girls turn into women
Your mother should have warned you
You fall in love and then
Your mother should have told you
You're sinking or you're swimming
Your mother should have warned you
Boys turn into men
Guitar solo
You look fully grown
I thought you'd have known
Your mother should have told you
Girls turn into women
Your mother should have warned you
Boys turn into men
Your looks are sensational
Where do I begin?
You're so unbelievable
It must be a sin
I thought you'd have known
You look fully grown
...... attend to your own
Your mother should have told you
Girls turn into women
Your mother should have warned you
You fall in love and then
Your mother should have told you
You're sinking or you're swimming
Your mother should have warned you
B
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother and Daughter Love
Mother and daughter love can be so fun...
A mother should love her daughter at all time
A mother have connection with her daughter
A daughter should love there mother with in and with out
A daughter should talk to her about anything with each other
A mother and daughter should love each other
That what some people call mother and daughter love.....
poem by Valentine White
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Love’s base alike.
What is pink? Her cheek’s.
What is White? Her teeth.
What is fountain? Her breasts.
A child refers them to mother
And a lad, to his beloved.
A metamorphosis of love.
13.01.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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