Lest his home should wreck
Don’t make your son to choose
Between you and his spouse.
Don’t let your grand children
Prefer you to their mum.
Subordinate to her
Lest your son’s home should wreck.
19.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sonnet: Choose The Things in Your Life
0 choose your friend who must be good as you;
And choose your spouse better than you; make sure;
And choose the one best as your Teacher too;
And choose ambitions that suit your nature.
0 choose the profession thats truly best;
And choose the hobbies that ne'er interfere;
And choose your Time to begin work, take rest;
And choose your enemies, you surely fear.
0 choose your food that gives extended health;
And choose your garments -comfortable wear;
And choose the honest way to added wealth;
And choose the burden right, body can bear.
0 choose the people who deserve help most;
And choose good principles, yet never boast.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fear and freedom
Where you fear to steal
There your things are safe.
Where you are free to flirt
There your spouse is not safe.
We prefer fear to freedom.
16.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sexual void
He knows not his wife is a paramour;
She knows not her spouse is a paramour.
Illicit relations have existed
Since the time immemorial so as
To fill necessarily the sexual void
Of the repressed society all along.
Orgasm demands outright exploration,
That a stranger only can bring about.
Adultery is lovely, the urge of life,
But guilt is built and the shame is outcome.
Spouse swapping is a new phenomenon,
Which quite nicely fills the sexual void,
Without guilt and without betrayal
And without the danger of breaking home.
The non-possessiveness in a great deal
Must be mandatory to accomplish.
Spouse swapping is a decent prostitution.
Spouse swapping is a mutual gratification.
Stigma severed, acceptance will gain ground.
12.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free Frogs
Free Frogs
Hi! My name is Frannie,
Frannie Frog
I'd like to introduce you
to my three brothers
Bud
Weis
and Er
They are currently looking for a new home
They would prefer
a damp slimy pond,
with lots of bugs.
But will settle for
a nice pad in the suburbs
They love big wet kisses
But ladies don't expect
any handsome prince
So if you could just
get them off my back...
...I mean give them a good home
They are free
If I could only release them from me
20 July 2008
© 2008 (All rights reserved)
From Which Two to Choose
Does this sound remotely logical...
That someone sitting,
In their home...
Alone.
In a quiet peacefulness,
They feel has been earned.
To wish upon themselves,
Havoc, chaos and twenty four hours...
Of nonstop conflict?
To wilfully admit a wish to invite 'that'?
And plot to destroy their own peace?
Are people that lonely?
I can be driven to the edge,
To make a decision...
Whether I prefer happiness,
Over walking on clouds of joy.
Those are my choices...
IF I was given any two,
From which to choose.
However,
ANYONE given the opportunity,
To choose between a root canal done,
Without anesthesia.
Or falling to sleep after a few glasses of wine?
AND...
They can not make up their minds?
I admit,
For someone like this...
PERHAPS that would be a tough decision to make!
IF they had no other experiences in life.
And they are in need of assistance to decide,
From which two to choose.
As for me?
I'd go with the hangover.
With an early morning ringing of the telephone,
Gone ignored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mother's Day Poem For You
Written by my Grand daughter
Cayce Taylor
Her first poem.
May 6,2008
Mothers do not like it
When their children are sad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are bad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are mad.
But, Mothers do like it
When their children are glad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been sad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been bad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been mad.w
Dear mom, I only want
To make you very glad.
Happy mothers day mom from Cayce
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Refuse To Be Muted
Do choose.
And, select your steps.
Do choose.
Don't second guess to be a wreck.
Do choose.
Reach and see yourself the best.
Seek to want nothing else less...
Since there's no time to sit and rest,
With folded arms against your chest.
Do choose.
Don't pity pat your own back.
Do choose.
Decide to be better than that.
Do choose.
Unstrap from shackles that trap.
You are much more than that.
Put some heat under your feet...
Know your destiny is yours,
To meet and greet.
Do choose.
Don't pity pat your own back.
Know you're better than that!
Refused to be muted.
Refute this to be booted!
Do choose.
And, select your steps.
Do choose.
Don't second guess to be a wreck.
Do choose.
Reach and see yourself the best.
Seek to want nothing else less...
Since there's no time to sit and rest,
With folded arms against your chest.
Refuse to be muted.
Refute this to be booted.
Do choose.
Refuse to be muted.
Refute this to be booted!
Do choose.
Refuse to be muted.
Refute this to be booted!
And, select your steps.
Reach and seek the best.
Do choose!
And refuse to be muted.
Confused and disputed,
To choose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wreck of She
The Wreck of She, could be a ship,
that has been cast upon the shore,
but alas she is not, she's part of the street
a fancy English whore
The Wreck of She, has moved around
from war time trenches.
to Hyde Park benches,
down quite back alleys,
and seaside chalets.
Yet she was always there
when Tom came to call
then off they would go,
and have a ball.
The Wreck of She, was just like a night owl.
Out at dusk, and home at dawn,
with grass on her back,
from the golf course lawn.
The Wreck of She, was past her sell by date,
when she was found
crawling in the gate,
she was dazed and battered
but to her it never mattered,
she had been there before
and she knew the score.
The Wreck of She was just an old cat.
A Queen of the night
who never got laid, on a fireside mat
poem by Sylvia Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What name shall I leave?
In different times and in different circles,
By different names I had been identified
With reference to my parents and grandparents
Or with reference to my spouse or my children
And in the meantime by pseudonyms and surnames
And sometimes by the posts held, all along my life.
By what name I have been known in a circle
Had become irrelevant to other circles.
What name shall I leave to stay behind when I die?
24.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My taste of Life
I drink coffee seems it is my favorite wine,
How much I can enjoy until the end of my life?
How much I can keep for happiness as in my life?
When my life is going to be disappearing as a morning frost?
I am still worrying a thousand years’ later although,
There are a few grand children around me.
I could not see my grand children after a century,
But I worry about their fortune and children after my death.
poem by Albert Wong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choices
i prefer smooth peanut butter
to crunchy
mind you
crunchy is all right
but i prefer smooth.
i prefer strawberry jam
to raspberry
mind you
raspberry is tasty
but it's got all those seeds
and i prefer strawberry.
i prefer mustard
to mayonaisse
mind you mayonaisse has it's place
amongst condiments
but is likely to go bad
if left out to long
and poison everyone
so on the whole i prefer mustard.
i prefer cooked meat
to raw meat
for much the same reason
as i prefer mustard to mayonaisse
although it also has to do
with the fact that i don't
like my meat to bleat
or moo or make chicken noises (BAGOCK!)
when i eat
so i tend to avoid the raw
though mind you
the meat that i prefer
may at some time have been raw.
i prefer not to say
why i think so
but i do
and i suppose it's all
just a matter of taste
so if you'd prefer to think so
then crunchy is better
than smooth
even if it does interfere
with the texture of the
peanut butter
and jelly (strawberry) sandwich
which ought to be somewhat
devoid of substance
merely a sticky sweet something
to fill your stomach
put mayonaisse on it
if you like
i'd prefer not to think about it.
poem by Laura Sewell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adoption
(01/11/12)
So many children are waiting in the wings
For being adopted is their thing.
Afraid to make plans for they don’t know
What lies ahead - their future is something
That they do dread.
Some move from home to home and never
Finding where they belong.
Many were abandoned and left on the street
With just their clothes on their backs and no food to eat.
Some were newborns left at police stations
Fire stations, and at church doors
Never to see their parents any more.
They have dreams like so many others
But they would prefer to have parents
And a sister or brother.
A person that they could say that- this is my mom
And this is my dad and I’m proud and awfully glad.
That I have parents as so many other children do
And knowing what it is to be loved like you.
We are all adoptable if given a chance
Look in our hearts and you’ll understand.
We don’t know why we was abandoned
Or what we had done wrong, but with
Parents is where we belong.
I’ll wipe away my tears so that you could see
The love and pain that’s inside of me.
If you can’t have children or have a kind heart
Then adoption is where you can start.
ADOPT
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children And Me
when they see me
alll the children address me
daddy daddy
grand daddy
come daddy daddy come
but ı have not a real child
though all the children are mine
I treat them like mine
aöm I SO OLD
ı SOMETİ MES SUSPECT
but nobody accepts
eldering easily
all living thing
never wants to get older...never
but am I so old
as when
chidren see me
address..
daddy...dady..daddy..
or grand daddy
what a wonderful sight
of a just walking baby
leaning towards me
from her mother bosom
when alll the children see me
they address me
daddy...daddy..dady.
or grand daddy
ı s there a secret relatı on
between the children and me
do you know
can you guess
and tell me
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Possibilities
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Prefer Crazed Blue Eyes
I prefer crazed blue eyes
How they
Magnetize
The ache
I have
To make your insanity
My own
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Won't
Apologize
How I take
Your flesh
And make your absurdity
My home
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Don't you
Realize?
Nutcase
Lover
Wackity wack wackify
My soul
Let me look into your
Anarchic mind
Transfixed by those
Wild baby blues
Let's share the final
Gasps of time
While we wear
Each other's shoes
Let me hold your body
In such strange ways
Even monkeys
Would be ashamed
Let's meld our chaos
Lunatic babe
One body joined
Perverse, deranged
I prefer crazed blue eyes
Delirious blues
In the way they
Stare at me
All Sturm und Drang
Staring
Knowing
Exactly
Who I Am
poem by Catman Cohen
Submitted by anonym
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Take Me Home
Take me home
please take me home
to the place where i was born
take me home, take me home
I dont want any friends
in my new home
cause id prefer to stay
there all alone
You told me
"i would like to be with you"
now youre gone
and everythings so strange and new
I love my friends
and you know i miss them so
i miss my friends children
and i miss watching them grow
Take me back to the place
where i was born
cause its the place where
i feel like beeing home
song performed by by X-Perience
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me Home
Take me home
please take me home
to the place where i was born
take me home, take me home
I dont want any friends
in my new home
cause id prefer to stay
there all alone
You told me
"i would like to be with you"
now youre gone
and everythings so strange and new
I love my friends
and you know i miss them so
i miss my friends children
and i miss watching them grow
Take me back to the place
where i was born
cause its the place where
i feel like beeing home
song performed by by X-Perience
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To prefer evil to good is not in human nature; and when a man is compelled to choose one of two evils, no one will choose the greater when he might have the less.