Without shoots
You and your parents are
Shoot and roots of a seedling.
You and your children are
Root and shoots of a seedling.
Connectivity between
Root and shoot is original.
So is the bonding between
Shoots and root as natural.
Husband and wife are
Scion and stock of a graft.
Connectivity between
Scion and stock is artificial.
So is the bonding between
Husband and wife.
The old couple will know this.
Being childless is the one without shoots.
28.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mother is the root
.
Mother is the root.
Children are the shoots.
Roots take care of the shoots.
Shoots have no care for roots.
They have other things to care.
Roots don’t bother. Can mother?
17.07.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roots and shoots to feed
Your phallus is the root tip.
Your brain is the shoot tip.
Legs- root laterals.
Hands- shoot laterals.
Torso is the stem.
Navel is the centre of equilibrium.
No shoot development
without root enrichment.
No root development
without shoot enrichment.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lecturer
He wrote on the board
“The husband said the wife
Is having an extra-marital affair”.
He asks the class, “Who is having the EMA? ”
Shout comes up loud, “the wife”.
He takes a piece of chalk, and puts two commas
One after husband, and one after wife.
It now reads, “The husband, said the wife, is
Having an extra-marital affair”.
He asks the class, “Who is having the EMA? ”
Confused murmur of husband, wife flutters.
“Not a word has changed, but the meaning has reversed
With just two commas.” Eats shoots and leaves, eh?
May I start the lecture on grammar, he said.
The class was all ears.
D T Joseph
19.02.08
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reciprocal Relationship
Wife and husband
reciprocate through love
as a centrifugal force
that settles only
to one another
Wife and husband
reciprocate through understanding
as a bonding conduit
to overrule electrifying
disagreements
Reciprocating wife and husband
make love and understanding
as best way of communication
that sustain the romance
and lasting relationship
When reciprocating collapses
between a husband and wife
romantic expression ceases
and the marital connection
becomes sour and arid
Reciprocating with each other
through love and understanding
builds up stronger foundation
as contented wife and husband
blessed with happy marriage
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Gary likes a girls tight black pants
Larry knows he doesnt stand a chance
Carl says hurry up and order it quick
Dave gets out to chase that chick
Dennis wonders whats under the hood
A big chrome tach and it sounds real good
I go down to the root beer stand
And drink up all that I can
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Brians still glued to the radio
Louies lookin out the rear window
Guys got around to orderin fries
But root beers my best buy
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Give me some root beer (chug-a-lug chug-a-lug chug-a-lug)
Cold beer, root beer
Here a mug, there a mug, everybody chug-a-lug
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
Root beer, need another mug now
Root beer, chug-a-lug-a-lug now
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In children’s glory
The root toils and takes pride in its crown.
The crown beams but gives no credit to the root.
Birds and animals all admire the crown
For the fruits and the shades they obtain.
They attach least importance to the root.
The root still sticks to the vanity of its pride
As parents take pride in children’s glory.
05.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family life
At home
Husband
And wife...
Some time fighting...
Word's to words...
With bad words...
Sometime hit
The husband wife
Mistakes...
Wife was crying...
Husband was woory...
Wife also
Lovingely hit...
Husband also take easy...
At night husband
Wanted wife
For sex...
Wife will say
Backpain acting
Going for
Hear with life
Every day
At familylife...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To keep the bond
Parents spend on children,
And children, on parents later.
These are not debts.
Parents scold children,
And children, parents later.
These are not scars.
Roots and shoots together
Have thetr Profit and Loss Account.
23.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pulls are aging.
As lovers, he lies on his back
And she, with her head on his chest.
As couple, he sleeps facing the roof
And she, with her knee on his thigh.
As parents, they sleep together,
With their backs facing each other.
As elders, the husband and wife
Sleep in the foetal position.
As the old, they sleep separately.
Bonding replaces sexual pulls.
21.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pretty woman
Pretty woman.
But wife is beautiful.
Pretty woman is hot.
But wife is the sexiest.
Pretty woman is just for sex.
But a wife is to make love.
Wife is a forbidden fruit.
To you and all.
and wife is more caring.
Be at home and by her husband.
and wife is the husband diamond.
And the husband love making love to her.
That no other women can.
Make him feel so good.
and her husband always in love.
With her.
And wife is the husband success.
Loving and warm full happiness.
She bears our children. And
She is the most gifted darling.
poem by See Fee Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arbor Amoris
I have a tree, a graft of Love,
That in my heart has taken root;
Sad are the buds and blooms thereof,
And bitter sorrow is its fruit;
Yet, since it was a tender shoot,
So greatly hath its shadow spread,
That underneath all joy is dead,
And all my pleasant days are flown,
Nor can I slay it, nor instead
Plant any tree, save this alone.
Ah, yet, for long and long enough
My tears were rain about its root,
And though the fruit be harsh thereof,
I scarcely looked for better fruit
Than this, that carefully I put
In garner, for the bitter bread
Whereon my weary life is fed:
Ah, better were the soil unsown
That bears such growths; but Love instead
Will plant no tree, but this alone.
Ah, would that this new spring, whereof
The leaves and flowers flush into shoot,
I might have succour and aid of Love,
To prune these branches at the root,
That long have borne such bitter fruit,
And graft a new bough, comforted
With happy blossoms white and red;
So pleasure should for pain atone,
Nor Love slay this tree, nor instead
Plant any tree, but this alone.
L'ENVOY.
Princess, by whom my hope is fed,
My heart thee prays in lowlihead
To prune the ill boughs overgrown,
Nor slay Love's tree, nor plant instead
Another tree, save this alone.
poem by François Villon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are You a Good Husband?
All married men want to be called a good husband
A good husband is a decent husband
Mr. Husband what you done to deserve this decency?
Has your wife ever referred to you as her good husband?
It is known that the eyes cannot see itself
Unless by reflection. Have you ever asked
Your wife for a performance appraisal
Honey, how did I perform last year?
On a scale of one to ten, one for very poor
Ten for excellent, how did I perform?
Your wife may think you are now on new drugs
If you receive less than six, you need to
Start fence mending before it is too late
A good husband sees his wife as his friend
A nice husband treats his wife as his lover
A decent husband regards his wife as a soul-mate
You should anticipate what your wife
Will need before she makes any request
By the way, have you ever bought a gift
For your wife without an occasion?
Do you have to wait for her birthday?
To inform her that she is very special to you?
Do you have to wait for your wedding anniversary?
To tell her that she is the best thing in your life
When last did you talk to your wife in-laws?
When last did you visit your wife in-laws?
What have you done to be called a good husband?
Ask for performance appraisal on a regular basis
Remember, if you make your wife happy
You will get happiness in return
poem by Julius Babarinsa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purpose Of The Couple
Children born,
Wife is secondary in love.
Children born,
Husband is elementary in love.
The couple sticks,
For their identity with the children.
When childless,
The couple lives together like room mates.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let The Old Know
Roots die hard for shoots.
Shoots yield to flowers.
Flowers succumb to seeds.
Seeds die to give seedlings.
They are happy to do.
The old may know of this.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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for him who fears God
wife will be a fruitful vine
and children olive shoots
quote by by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Seahorse
The seahorse doesn’t do divorce:
It picks a spouse for life.
The wife’s the husband and, perforce,
The husband is the wife.
A husband, feeling rightly proud
(As husbands are, of course) ,
Will say of her who’s well endowed:
‘My wife’s hung like a horse.’
poem by South Westerner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a Parcel of Vain Strivings Tied
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
A bunch of violets without their roots,
And sorrel intermixed,
Encircled by a wisp of straw
Once coiled about their shoots,
The law
By which I'm fixed.
A nosegay which Time clutched from out
Those fair Elysian fields,
With weeds and broken stems, in haste,
Doth make the rabble rout
That waste
The day he yields.
And here I bloom for a short hour unseen,
Drinking my juices up,
With no root in the land
To keep my branches green,
But stand
In a bare cup.
Some tender buds were left upon my stem
In mimicry of life,
But ah! the children will not know,
Till time has withered them,
The woe
With which they're rife.
But now I see I was not plucked for naught,
And after in life's vase
Of glass set while I might survive,
But by a kind hand brought
Alive
To a strange place.
That stock thus thinned will soon redeem its hours,
And by another year,
Such as God knows, with freer air,
More fruits and fairer flowers
Will bear,
While I droop here.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sic Vita
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
A bunch of violets without their roots,
And sorrel intermixed,
Encircled by a wisp of straw
Once coiled about their shoots,
The law
By which I'm fixed.
A nosegay which Time clutched from out
Those fair Elysian fields,
With weeds and broken stems, in haste,
Doth make the rabble rout
That waste
The day he yields.
And here I bloom for a short hour unseen,
Drinking my juices up,
With no root in the land
To keep my branches green,
But stand
In a bare cup.
Some tender buds were left upon my stem
In mimicry of life,
But ah! the children will not know,
Till time has withered them,
The woe
With which they're rife.
But now I see I was not plucked for naught,
And after in life's vase
Of glass set while I might survive,
But by a kind hand brought
Alive
To a strange place.
That stock thus thinned will soon redeem its hours,
And by another year,
Such as God knows, with freer air,
More fruits and fairer flowers
Will bear,
While I droop here.
poem by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That
A country couple went to a city mall
Wife asked husband ‘what boys and girls
Are doing in the dim corner of the cabin ‘
Husband replied, ‘ they are doing that in
exchange of money ‘ wife at this said
‘ we used to do that, too, in the field of
Jute, totally free!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman’s concerns
A wife adopts her husband’s name;
Also adopts her husband’s home.
To compensate it, she values parents.
A penny from them is a pound;
A bruise to them is a wound.
Her concerns wipe out her absence.
22.10.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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