Sans woman, man will hang.
Hell is not far to seek
but is right here at your beak
for you to experience
when you lack
a protective mother,
an assuring wife,
a supportive sister,
a promising daughter,
or any woman of that sort.
Coz you are a pepper vine.
Woman is a stake.
Without a stake, you’ll hang?
23.12.2000, Pmdi`
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
The Women
This world is, because of the woman
this universe is, because of the woman
nothing exists without the woman
our existence is, because of the woman.
Why being a woman then
should be humiliation?
Why a woman then
should face indignation?
always the woman becomes the prey...?
always the woman has no say.....?
The woman is a mother, also a mother–in-law
the woman is a sister, also a sister-in-law
the woman has many roles to play
a daughter-in-law perfects that night & day.
Why then a woman does
torture another woman?
Why does a ma-in-law
torches a daughter in-law?
Why does a woman destroy another’s world?
Why does jealousy overcomes a sister-in-law?
In the woman, power is manifest,
yet she is unaware and that is a jest.
she becomes Durga when in rage
telling everyone, she is no sage
the woman is where, awakening is there
her absence creates crematoriums everywhere.
Why do then a woman abhor the birth of a female?
Wants a child, whose gender is male?
the male is indebted to her for the courage and life
yet no rewards for the woman, her entire life.
This is the story of the woman, full of anguish
Plight of a woman is because of another’s wish
Exploitation of the woman could not have taken place
Had a woman given the other a little more space.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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I Am Not A Woman...
I am not a woman that loves with a heart
I am not a woman that's silly and smart
I am not a woman with open wounds
I am not a woman that's more attuned
I am not a woman that you hold dear
I am not a woman that has no fear
I am not a woman that's loved or lost
I am not a woman that doesn't know the cost
I am not a woman that's hurting inside
I am not a woman that has no foolish pride
I am not a woman that can't look you in the eye
I am not a woman alone that cries
I am not a woman that's imprisoned with chains
I am not a woman that holds her will in vain
I am not a woman, or mother, or friend
or wife, or daughter, or one to depend
I am not a woman of all and more
Because I gave it away to the one I adore
what's left is all you see
Just a woman that truly believes
The Grenadain Woman
Yes me woman, from my womb life was borne
Yes me woman, the young ones prune by my hands
Yes me woman, with the coves that sways with the redeem of the heart beat, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup
Yes me woman, with beauty unimaginable, soft to the touch
yes me woman, with the voice of a heavenly being, soft, gentle, comforting, encouraging
Yes me woman, determine to succeed with the strength from above
Yes me woman, the days have gone, long gone for her to depend on the strength of another man
Yes me woman, her time has come for the world to see her for who she really is
Yes me woman, creative, innovative, confident, intelligent, loving, kindhearted
Yes me woman, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, lover
Yes me woman, The Grenadian woman.
poem by Curliann Mark
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Love demands corporal presence
Is not it a fallacy,
If an uprooted stake thought
That the orphaned vine
In its place would never seek
Any stake nearby?
Your beloved ceases to be so
Once you have left the venue.
05.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man is not whole, sans woman
Body sans soul is a corpse.
Soul sans body is ether.
Man is the corpse.
Woman is the soul.
Both together make life.
The corpse deteriorates.
But the ether exists.
Sans woman, man decays;
Sans man, woman stays.
Woman qua volunteer to Gandhiji,
woman qua adopted daughter to A.B. Vajpoyee,
woman qua daughter to Pandit Nshru
lent to respective men the soul.
26.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man And Woman, Two Hands
Man and woman are half, half,
Not exact but asymmetrical.
Man and woman form a whole;
Together they tend the race.
Two men cannot form a whole
And not two women either,
Gays and lesbians to note.
Man and woman are stake and vine.
They are two hands: right and left.
Hands don’t fight for supremacy.
They work for integrity.
Man and woman must learn from this.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Woman to fall on man
A tender pepper vine grew on a timber.
Both were in embrace, she clinging.
A hardy pepper learnt to grow erect,
Without a support. Lust of clasp is lost.
Erect woman is at loss.
21.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A little extra, from an extra ordinary woman
She goes out of her way and travels that extra mile
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She consoles you, smiles with you, cries with you and for you
A little extra than anyone else
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She spends on you a little extra than she does on her own self
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She uses her extra strength and wisdom to pick you up when you fall
She blinds her sight to your imperfections
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She loves you a little extra just to stand out different
From all those who love you
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She starves herself so that you may eat a little extra
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She forgives you all the time
Even when you guilty mind knows you don’t deserve such kindness
Because she is an extra ordinary woman
She may not be the most perfect woman but
She is indeed an extra ordinary woman
She is your mother, your wife, your fiancee, your girlfriend
Your sister, your grandmother and your daughter
You best appreciate her
poem by Grace Mdemu
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Stake Stake Stake
Stake, stake, stake,
on the green felt fabric thrown, -
the croupiers, awake,
the players, weary, grown.
O well for the novice who
can cash in lucky play,
O ill for the gambler too,
rash not to end his stay
as the golden chips go on
back to stack within the till, -
but O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,
and woe for the crushing bill!
Stake, stake, stake,
while a camera all can see,
records both banks which break,
and counts accounts’ red plea!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Love outlive lust
Love for a girl does not infringe
The love one has for one’s mother.
Desire for a woman does not spoil
The love one has for one’s wife.
.
Love for mother from the umbilical cord.
Love for wife from the fusion gametes.
They are not extinguishable, and will stay.
Covalan at last returned to Kannaki,
Winsome Madhavi abandoned.
27.12.2000, Pmdi
[Annotation refers to the ancient Tamil Epic Silapathikaram]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman I Call Sister
The woman I call sister
Is someone who is there
The woman I call sister
Is someone who always cares.
The woman I call sister
Can make me smile when times are blue
The woman I call sister
Is someone very true.
The woman I call sister
By choice, is my best of friend
The woman I call sister
Will be there till the end
The woman I call sister
Is the blessing from God above
The woman I call sister
Is the sister that I'll always love.
poem by Marissa Gertmenian
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Hard to coax
A reasonable stake is enough.
A vine is content with that.
The stronger stake cannot coax it.
Wives being such, men live in peace.
09.08.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Many a promising career has been wrecked by marrying the wrong sort of woman. The right sort of woman can distinguish between Creative Lassitude and plain shiftlessness.
quote by Robertson Davies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Woman I call Sister (Martha)
The woman I call sister
will always be there
The woman I call sister
is a person that will always care
The woman I call sister
is a person I will always love
The woman I call sister
is a blessing from God above
The woman I call sister
will stay true till the end
The woman I call sister
will be my best friend
So the woman I call sister
will be the blood related one
And the woman I call sister
will be the ONLY one :)
poem by Isabel Robles
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Her Bum
‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!
‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee
I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!
I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.
I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.
I daren’t publish anymore…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The stigma of the widowhood
When you strip a woman
Of her costumes and cosmetics
And clamp on her widowhood,
She might well turn to be
A mother, sister or daughter.
Doing it on an open yard
As a part of funeral
Is an injury inflicted
On a mother, sister or daughter.
Let her be free to do when
And let it be a private affair
What sanctity has it got
In the changed scenario,
Where widows are getting
Married as freely now?
Must she be bound with thali
And metti by the bridegroom
To be usurped in his death?
The stigma attached
To being a widow be torn.
Be she as free as a man
Before and after her marriage.
It is grace that man grants
Before woman demands.
15.05.2008
[the hindu custome]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman has more pride than sex
Don’t take it granted with any woman
That she would prefer you to her husband
For a tryst because you score over him.
No woman will like to risk her pride.
19.11.2000, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now that august is gone
Now that august is gone
And we all know that all augusts come and go
Is this woman? a woman of vertue,
Is this woman? a super woman
Is this woman? a woman of mission and vision
Is this woman? classy and stylish
Is this woman? preffesional or house wife
And the woman of action and motion
A woman of courage and resilence
A woman of liberation and liberty
A woman of passion and compassion
A woman of thoughts and opinions
A woman of empathy and sympathy
A woman of concerns and kindness
.
A woman of confrontation or insecurity
A woman of altracation or tranquility
A woman of ambition or armunition
A woman of redeemtion or detention
A woman of power or affection
Is this woman a woman
I am not questining you, woman!
I was questioning this woman
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman's Dream
The woman I want to be
A woman of valor and integrity
One that fears the creator of heaven, earth
And everything there in.
A woman with a warm, loving heart
So welcoming, reliable and confident
A woman that the world will confidently
Look up to for any help.
The woman I want to be
A wife that is adorable and supportive
Render my heart to him that wins it
Give my time to love, adore, cherish
Encourage him to soar to greater heights
To achieves his dreams with my support
A forgiving, cooperative wife is all I want to be
Together with the conqueror of all times
To be the flag bearers of what a family is.
The woman I want to be
Mother of adorable children
To love cherish and fend for
They will be the apple of my eye
Children I call my own to teach
The ways of the world
Children that are the twinkling stars
Of my life that will never die out
An exemplary mother is all I want to be.
The woman I want to be
One that’s not perfect but works on her flaws
To get perfection out of them
Not hindered by her failure and mistakes
But corrects, learns from them
To make her life better and worth living.
Unstoppable and will traverse all challenges
To emerge conqueror.
There is so much I want to be
So much I want to live for
This is every woman’s dream
And every woman’s strife.
poem by Kente Lucy
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