Love Without Sex
A woman of thirty five
And a mother of two kids,
With modesty to the core,
She was lured to fall for him
When they were given proximity
For a couple of years.
Even now the love is vibrant
After thirteen years,
Notwithstanding any
Physical intimacy
It has culminated in.
Sexual love can exist without sex.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Thirteen Years
Thirteen years of pencils and paper
Thirteen years of “I'll do it later”
Thirteen years of homework and classes
Thirteen years of fails and passes
Thirteen years have gone by so fast
And it's finally our year of last
Thirteen years of enemies and friends
Our memories that will never end
Thirteen years of growing up
Relying off of chance and luck
Changing our hair and our clothes
Making our decisions based off shows
Thirteen years preparing for our lives
For our future successful tries
For our almost guaranteed mistakes
And the friends we are sure to make
Thirteen years and now thirteen more
Traveling from shore to shore
Separating from our family and friends
Moving on and on again and again
Good Luck to us all, wherever we go
May we always have pride, and let it show
For our origins of HHS
Class of 2011 will always be the best!
poem by Cheylee Miller
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My Next Thirty Years
(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hard nut to crack
Guilt, fear, qualm and shame
Took leave from modern woman
From standing against her modesty.
Notwithstanding proximity,
Secrecy, and independence,
Her self-esteem has taken that place.
She has become a hard nut to crack
Though soaked in free water overnight.
09.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mourning Anniversary
After all these years
thirty years
thirty years and more.
The emptiness the loneliness
cries I love you more.
I held you once
only once
more than thirty years ago.
And then my love
my only love I had to let you go.
But my heart had seen
my eyes had seen
the only true love for me.
When you walked
away my love.
You turned not back
to look at me.
A single embrace
just one embrace
is all that’s let to me.
A single embrace
just one embrace
second never again to be.
And no one cries for me.
No one cries for me.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Couple More Years
I've got a couple more years on you, baby...that's all.
I've had more chances to fly and more places to fall.
And it ain't that I'm wiser...
It's only that I've spent more time with my back to the wall.
And I've picked up a couple more years on you, baby.. that's all.
I've walked a couple more roads than you, baby...that's all.
And I'm tired of runnin' while you're only learning to crawl.
And you're headin somewhere...
But I've been to somewhere... and found it was nowhere at all.
And I've picked up a couple of years on you baby... that's all.
Now sayin' goodbye, girl don't never come easy at all.
But you've got to fly 'cuz you're hearin' those young eagles call.
And someday when you're older, you'll smile at a man strong and tall.
And you'll say I've got a couple more years on you, baby... that's all.
I've got a couple more years on you baby... that's all.
You'll say I've had more chances to fly and more places to fall.
It ain't that I'm wiser...
It's only that I've spent more time with my back to the wall.
And I've picked up a couple more years on you baby... that's all.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Enough, once done
I shall not be content
With a woman’s love alone,
Even with the physical intimacy,
Unless it results in the coitus,
Without the contraceptives,
Leading to the deposit of
My seeds in her womb,
Which is the stage of culmination
In a sexual relation,
After which I don’t mind
Being ignored or rejected.
Failure after the copulation
Is of no pain to the lover.
12.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Chastity in seclusion
Proximity is a deadly enemy
To unwanted intimacy.
Proximity alone is incapable
Of bringing intimacy
Unless women find in men
Some appreciative traits
That appeal to them irresistibly.
Chastity thrives in seclusion.
12.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Other woman
‘Other woman’ is an ego booster
And a sexual stimulant to man,
Though an enigma to woman, his wife.
It is past that marriage is eternal;
It is past that woman is house bound.
Both are employed; both have exposure.
The time spent by colleagues across sex
Is longer than the time spent by couples.
Proximity brings about intimacy
And intimacy leads to sexual love.
Other woman need not be a better lot.
That she is untried and hard to attain
Is itself her potent charm to tempt man.
Her presence acts like an aphrodisiac
And her nearness makes man alcoholic.
Marriage can give him a blanket of warmth
But can not keep him off from yearning.
Other woman fills the void existing
Or dig one and fill it with herself.
Other woman enjoys her quota too.
The marriages old and staid are shaken;
The marriages loosely held are broken.
Nay, ideal couples too bite their dust.
Staying separate is a catalyst.
Emotional infidelity sets,
To be followed or not by adultery.
Potent man each draws his ‘other woman’.
Who is no one but some one’s fertile wife.
‘Other woman’ is not a certain woman
But a woman of a certain period.
‘Other man’ and ‘other woman’ are drawn
To form a perfect pair by heart and soul.
They both enjoy their companionship.
She takes care of her looks and he, of his,
Which throw benefits to their spouses too.
Hormones in spate, they find purpose in life.
Husbands, by and large, have other women.
Wives shed their qualm to play other woman.
Male promiscuity is manliness;
Female titillation is womanliness.
‘We look before and after
And pine for what is not’ - Shelly
28.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Intimacy is feared
Lovers fear secrecy
As they both have secrecy.
Intimacy means connecting
The inner core of the two,
Which will expose their weak spots,
Fearing which they fear intimacy.
They want bodily intimacy
Without soul’s intimacy.
Such intimacy betrays trust
And will wreck the very love.
15.12.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Freud's view is that all love is sexual in its origin or its basis. Even those loves which do not appear to be sexual or erotic have a sexual root or core. They are all sublimations of the sexual instinct.
quote by Mortimer Adler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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I Did Not Bite The Apple To Its Core (Terzanelle)
I did not bite the apple to its core,
before the sensual sexual act of intimacy
but excused myself through the unlocked door
and kept to this tendency
not kissing the embracing woman on the street,
before the sensual sexual act of intimacy
not following her, but whished her Godspeed
and so I send three wanton women on their way
not kissing the embracing woman on the street,
not interested to kiss and play,
but now it feels as if life is speeding past
and so I send three wanton women on their way
I whish to have my life back as it was
to experience, to find the secret to life
but now it feels as if life is speeding past
and I am without a wife.
I did not bite the apple to its core,
to experience, to find the secret to life
but excused myself through the unlocked door.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Women can’t be caged.
The reason why woman sleeps with men are:
Love, fear, gain curiosity, ambition,
Passion, intimacy, proximity
And discontentment. Women can’t be caged.
01.09.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Premarital fun
She may like you, love you and have a crush.
She may flirt with you and move hand in hand.
She shuts herself to physical intimacy.
Women are mostly commitment phobic.
He may pursue you and fall at your knee.
He may lavish on you words and gifts.
He does not intend to marry you.
Men as a whole are commitment phobic.
Let him and her have crush for each other.
Let them meet, chat, and fondle together.
No heaven will fall, rather it opens.
Yes, they are commitment phobic.
Unadulterated, men and women
Will have no qualm when they marry
And can lead their life with a light heart,
Notwithstanding their premarital fun.
16.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I was a thirteen-year-old boy for thirty years.
quote by Mickey Rooney
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Thirty Years
IT'S THIRTY YEARS THAT I'VE SLAVED.
LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT WHAT I'VE SAVED
I BOUGHT SOME STOCKS THEY SAID WERE STARS.
NOW BANKS OWN MY HOUSE AND BOTH USED CARS.
THE KIDS DO CALL, BUT NOT ENOUGH.
THAT ALIMONY MAKES IT TOUGH.
THINGS ARE BETTER SINCE I MET DEB.
SHE'S HELPED ME BACK FROM MY LOW EBB.
WE'LL MARRY SOON, BUT BOTH ARE NERVOUS.
WE CARRY SCARS FROM PREVIOUS SERVICE.
THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS I WON'T BE CONCERNED
WITH DEBBIE, FRIENDS AND WHAT I'VE LEARNED.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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I Love Sensual Women
I love sensual women and not passionate ones. A passionate woman closes her eyes, moans and shouts and the enjoyment of a passionate woman is blind.
A passionate woman writhes about, grabs you with her hands without looking where, clasps you, kisses you, even bites you and hurries to reach her climax as soon as she can. She has no time to display her sexual organs, no time to examine, touch with the hand and kiss your sexual organs, she is in such a hurry to slake her passion. Having slaked her passion, the passionate woman will fall asleep. The sexual organs of a passionate woman are dry. A passionate woman is always in some way or another mannish.
The sensual woman is always feminine.
Her contours are rounded and abundant.
The sensual woman rarely reaches a blind passion. She savours sexual enjoyment.
The sensual woman is always a woman and even in an unaroused state her sexual organs are moist. She has to wear a bandage on her sexual organs, so as not to soak them with moisture.
When she takes the bandage off in the evening, the bandage is so wet that it can be squeezed out.
Thanks to such an abundance of juices, the sexual organs of a sensual woman give off a slight, pleasant smell which increases strongly when the sensual woman is aroused. Then the juice from her sexual organs is secreted in a syrupy stream.
A sensual woman likes you to examine her sexual organs.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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Mother
Everybody utter
They love their mother
Many of them
Do not respect woman
One who is a mother to other?
Or one day
Shall become a mother
A mother is a mother
Same sacrifices same pains
She has to bear
May be a king
May be a pauper
None could exist
Without a woman
Known as a mother
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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You Are Beautiful To Me
Cant tell you how many times Ive wanted to hold you
Cant tell you how many dreams how many fantasies
As I count down the hours and I count down the seconds
Will I be able to say will I be able to say
You are beautiful to me
You are sexual to me
Still a mystery
You are woman
Sometimes I wonder if this love will ever find expression
Does a seed in winters arms know of springs intention
Two spirits dancing through a body conversation
Is this light years away will I be able to say
You are beautiful to me
You are sexual to me
Still a mystery
You are woman
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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