Mona Lisa
MONA LISA
All through the days of the week
Double-busy with my table work
I can return home little earlier, but
Have to sit with my son's homework
And if I am really free at home
My kind wife would order some jobs for me
Dusting the windows, cleaning the ceiling,
Washing the gas-stove and scrapping the sump clean
But for her duties as merely a housewife
She keeps a servant full-time on all meals basis
Just as a ‘mistress' she does only supervise
With her starched Kota sarees' crease never shuffling
Scientists make bombs but politicians use it
Whatever, I earn hard, my spouse so freely expends
You are a machine with no powers to revolt
Nor to halt or question anything you suspect
Vexed by these features, I opted to ‘sanyas'
And am to board a train to night to 'Kailash'
In search of peace, respect and freedom
But, ….my charming sister-in-law has only just come
……I need to cancel at once the whole thing!
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Related quotes
Maid
After a decade
Of housekeeping
When housework
Seemed like
Clock-work
Never-ending
The more you
Clean
The more
It piles up
For
Another
Clean…
I finally have a
Maid
Who helps me
Every week.
A luxury
I couldn't
Afford
In the past
Years
As the
Cost of
Living
In the UK
Is so high.
Now,
That she
Takes care
Of my
Home
And I
Pay her
Well -
For all the
Cleaning…
I should
Feel happy,
Shouldn't I?
I have more
Time…
For myself
And my
Family.
But why
Do I
Feel so
Guilty?
The Work
I didn't
Like doing
She does it
All for the
Money
She needs
To feed
Her family
Of four
Children.
The mother
In me
Doesn't
Quite
Relish
Seeing
This -
Another
Mother
Work
So hard
And do
Odd jobs
Such as
Cleaning
People's
Toilets
And baths.
We find it
So uneasy
To clean
Our own.
Money
Makes
A slave of you
You like it
Or not,
To feed
Four
Hungry
Bellies,
You have to
Clean
Other people's
Homes.
The Question
Remains:
Should I be
Feeling
Happy
About
Giving her
Employment
And giving
Myself
Some respite
From the
Daily
Drudgery
Of house-keeping?
Or should I be
Feeling uneasy
About the fact
That she's also
A woman like me
A mother like me
A human like me
Yet she works
So hard for
Money…
The kind of jobs
I would abhor
To do…
She does it
With a smile
To keep her
Employers
Happy…
As she knows
If she
Loses her
Job, her
Children
Will be so
Unhappy.
(Poem themed on Dilemma)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Two Pizzas
TWO PIZZAS
Our kitchen is chill silent
today, this Friday afternoon -
four-burner prestige stove
stays mute, wiped so clean.
no activities seen
for the mid-day meal
wife and children are
chit- chatting in bed;
stories from Russia,
‘hithihasic kahanies'
tit-bits form weeklys
mock-trial make-ups
slowly, I entered in
to inquire the reason,
for a near hartal.
quickly, my wife replied
she has ordered ‘pizzas online'
two plus one, spicy chicken with some add-on
on fifty percent discount coupon
my childhood days were totally different
two pizzas are equal to two months' mess bill
a class iv servant will run his family whole month - but
my children are fortunate, father is a ‘ project leader'.
……two pizzas speaking of contrasting economies.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Home work
sometimesa my home work is small
sometimes my home work is long
but when ever i do my home work
it is always wrong
sometimes i do my home work at a low pace
sometimes i do my homework at a lfast lane
but how ever i do my homework
my homework is still a pain
sometimes my homework is eazy
sometimes homework is hard
but whenever i can't do my homework
i feel like a retard
by
mehwish shakeel
poem by Mehwish Shakeel
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The Journey
I am looking for a past
I can rely on
in order to look to death
with equanimity.
What was given me:
my mother’s largeness
to protect me,
my father’s regularity
in coming home from work
at night, his opening the door
silently and smiling,
pleased to be back
and the lights on
in all the rooms
through which I could run
freely or sit at ease
at table and do my homework
undisturbed: love arranged
as order directed at the next day.
Going to bed was a journey.
poem by David Ignatow
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He Man Army
HE MAN ARMY
If I were to be given a free license to kill
whom should I aim and shoot at first
…..not those innocent birds or beasts
nor the menacing tuskers or man-eaters
I would prefer to terminate every corrupt mean rogue
but, God is there and has to punish such souls
I have no business to step into His shoes
Neither, He delegates powers in me to be on this role
nor myself a man of virtues to launch a crusade of my own
yet, I would be one among the God's ‘Demolition Squad'
fully masked with laser - guns, in wait for His NOD
to wipe out every evil within split seconds
restoring peace and order, turning EARTH to its original kind.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Work
WHEN I am busying about,
Sewing on buttons, tapes, and strings,
Hanging the week's wet washing out
Or ironing the children's things,
Sweeping and dusting, cleaning grates,
Scrubbing the dresser or the floors,
Washing the greasy dinner plates,
Scouring the brasses on the doors--
I wonder what it's all about,
And when did people first begin
To keep the dirt and wornness out
And keep the wholesome comfort in:
How long it is since women bore
This round of wash and make and mend,
And what God makes us do it for
And whether it will ever end!
When God began to do His work
He made a new thing every day--
Even now He is not one to shirk,
But makes things, always some new way
He made the earth, and sky, and sun,
The creatures of the sea and wood,
And when his first week's work was done
He saw that it was very good.
But He--for all He worked so fast
To finish air, and wave, and shore,
Knew that this work of His would last
For ever and for evermore.
On Saturday night He was content,
He knew that Monday would not bring
Need for another firmament,
Another set of everything.
But though my work is easier far
Than making sky and sea and sun,
It's harder than God's labours are,
Because my work is never done.
I sweep and churn, save and contrive,
I bake and brew, I don't complain,
But every Monday morning I've
Last Monday's work to do again.
I'm good at work--I work away;
Always the same my work must go;
The flowers grow different every day,
That's why I like to see them grow.
If, up in Heaven, God understood
He'd let me for my Paradise
Make all things new and very good
And never make the same thing twice!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Earn Enough For Us
Ive been praying all the week through
At home, at work and on the bus
Ive been praying I can keep you
And to earn enough for us
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
Im just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
Found a house that wont repair itself
With its windows cracking
And a roof held together with holes
Just because were at the bottom of the ladder
We shouldnt be sadder
Than others like us
Who have goals for the betterment of life
Glad that you want to be my wife, but honest
Ive been praying all the week through
At home at work and on the bus
Ive been praying I can keep you
And to earn enough for us
So youre saying that were going to be three
Now, a fathers what Ill be
Dont get me wrong, Im so proud
But the belts already tight
Ill get another job at night, but honest
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
Im just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
Just because were at the bottom of the ladder
We shouldnt be sadder
Than others like us
Who have goals for the betterment of life
Glad that you want to be my wife, but honest
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
Im just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
I can earn enough for us
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return Sonata
Return the dust that is in my home to the streets at home
So that I can have a dust free home
Return the mice to the streets at home
So that I can have no mice in my home
Return some warmth to my home
So that my home can be warm also
Return peace to my home
So that I can live in peace at home
Return freedom to me
So that I can live free
Return the fresh air to my home
So that I can be able to breathe the fresh air
Return the sound of silence to my home
So that I can have some silence while I sleep
poem by Aldo Kraas
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No Work No Pay
NO WORK NO PAY
A new servant girl steps in
For an interview by my wife
Few questions asked, but historic replies
No means verify the versions thus heard
Wage negotiation is tough & takes little time
With perks and privileges spelt out and ratified
Servant now goes around for a self-inspection
Quickly comparing with other options held
Lastly, she accepts, but on a single condition
That she be paid 50% in advance payment
Collecting the money, she announces her schedules
Weekly rests and no cut if she absented herself
Days passed but, she didn't turn up
As per terms, we are not to hire a casual hand
Another intelligent lady nearby, rushes into confess
That the same has occurred to her with 50% lost
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Scrub, Scrub, Rub-a dub dub
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning is such a chore.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning's such a bore.
Washing, dusting every day,
seems there is no end.
I know that when I'm finished
it will start all over again.
Windows, floors and kitchen sinks
just can't seem to stay clean.
The kids go out. The kids come in
and there's the same old scene.
Wash the clothes. Let them dry.
Put them on to wear.
Before the day is over
there's a spot that wasn't there.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub dub
when will it ever stop?
If I could find those rub-a dub men
I'd gladly give them my mop.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Togetherness Is Gone
My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me
My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired
My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home
My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired
My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early
My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast
My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet
My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?
My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?
My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends
My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume
My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear
My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?
My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you
My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?
poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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The Fumes From The Silent Valley
THE FUMES FROM THE SILENT VALLEY
She is a widow with a girl child
joins our office on the grounds of compassion
at the age of 29, her dreams are only half-baked
left to fend for herself, she has to rewrite the episodes
In plain sarees with a speck and clean face
on to her job alone, allowing no room for complaints
as if a robot with no nerves or desires
she packs off daily, as a strict, self-disciplined lady
she never takes to canteen nor borrows nor chit chats
but she is the talk of our entire complex
even her departed husband would have a sigh of relief
that his wife so sails high, setting great standards
how long should she deceive or deny comforts to herself
there is nothing wrong in getting married again
or even to mix up with the people in and around
living behind an iron curtain could not be lasting solution
we wish she should come out of her shell gently
to feel the outside air of freedom and liberty
ethics, morals, customs and stigmas are fast melting entities
let her refract, re-build, recoup and redefine her priorities
- and genuinely, she is the on-line trained, most fittest, balanced spouse for any serious bridegroom, as far as I can vouch -
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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The De Facto Orphan
THE DE FACTO ORPHAN
I have lot of kith and kin
And sadly, living parents
Yet, I lived a life, full of pains
Lonely, as that of an hapless orphan
My boyhood days in the dark boarding halls
Youthful phase was spent in a disciplined hostel
Parents were prompt in paying the mess- bills
As an unfailing donor servicing the cause of or an orphan
They never knew the times I wept
Nor the nights that went unspent
Like a soldier coming home on an annual warrant
I returned to the ‘barracks' with moods so silent
Politely signing on the dotted- lines of the reports of progress
Duties of my parents ended there itself
Inwardly I am sick, in search of love, affection and parental caress
Banished from the family web, I prefer to be listed as an ORPHAN
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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like This And Like That
i say:
'how do i do,
this algebra homework? '
daddy says:
'like this and like that'
but i nerver understand,
the home work given by mrs gray,
i say:
'how do i do,
this science homework? '
sister says:
'like this and like that'
but i swear i never understand,
the home work given by mr carlson.
i say:
'how do i do,
this english assignment? '
little brother says:
'like this and like that'
but it is awonder,
i never understand,
the english work,
given by dr moscovitz
the thing is,
i only want to,
get a pencil and apiece of paper,
and start writing a,
POEM.................
What's In A Name
WHAT'S IN A NAME
By the very feel of a baby inside the womb
People break their head in search of a name
Crossing the borders and nationalities even
They bring home a damn, in an idiotic craze
Like the race horses having very fascinating names
It is not sure, they win all the courses they run
Choosing a name that is big and different
Has nothing to do in the real life game
By naming my girl as ‘Marlin Munroe'
She cannot storm the hearts of men world over
By naming my boy as ‘Winston Churchill'
He cannot order a new world war either
Is production of a child, a magnificent thing?
Let him achieve greatness on all of his own
Once your flag is up, whatever be thy name
You are shot to the top of the fame
….with your new, new historic name
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Land of the Free (c) 3-29-08
Land of the Free home of the brave
Land of disease home of the slave
Freedom of religion Freedom of speech
Freedom of press and freedom to breach
Freedom to steal freedom to take
Freedom to carry guns and Freedom to break
The laws of the man and the laws of the word
Freedom from peace but to still use the bird
The only home of brave and Land of the Free
The land who rules based off democracy
Freedom to starve and Freedom to be poor
Freedom to break and enter someone’s door
Freedom to lay off workers and close off jobs
Freedom to take what they want and to rob
Freedom of abortion Freedom of extortion
Freedom to own land and give everyone their portion
Freedom for action by any means necessary
But what their picture of that can really be scary
Freedom to wage war without our consent for our hours to be spent
Freedom to take our money then make us pay rent
Land of the prospering riches and of those who don’t care for the
People who live in the FREE old America
Copyright 3-29-08 ©® Corey Threet
PLEASE COMMENT!
poem by Corey Threet
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Something To Get Done For Somebody
Many people have done one thing,
Most of their lives.
Get up-go to work-and go home!
Get up-go to work-and go home!
Get up-go to work-and go home!
Until they are awarded a gift...
To show an appreciation,
For their dedicated madness.
Those who make it.
Those who are downsized with jobs outsourced...
Their loyalty gets them a pink slip.
Or a promise to fit them in anywhere.
If there is space left.
And if they don't mind sitting behind a brick wall,
To put in their time for a lower pay.
And to keep in mind...
They still have jobs that accomplishes 'something'.
Something to get done for somebody!
Until the time comes to retire from it.
Or get fired.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home is much more
I thought of home
As a dwelling house
Where I could lay naked without a blouse
I thought of home
As a dwelling house
Playing cat and mouse with my spouse
But home is much more!
Much more than a place you lay your head
O! where do I begin
Home is within
Home is deep rooted in ones soul
Home is empty if your heart has a large hole
Home is rebirth from childbirth to death
Home is when you make peace with thyself
And return back to earth!
I thought of home
As a bed with a respectable foam
I thought of home
As a place we feel we belong
Recharging our bodies to be strong
I thought of home
As living in no chronological order
With father, mother, sister or brother
I thought of home
Associating it with family
Affiliating it with ones country
Contemplating with the idea
As where one spends Christmas, Easter and New Year
O! dear
But home is much more!
O! where do I begin
Home is within
Home is thy inside twin
Your spiritual interior environment
No one dares enter without thy consent!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Jump Up Behind Me
Notes:
Jt on sony.com: lilly was not at all sure we could just set ol dan free like that. I told her dan was a huge invisible rat with magical powers. that seems to have shut her up.
This land is a lovely green
It reminds me of my own home
Such children Ive seldom seen
Even in my own home
The sky so bright and clean
Just like my home
Kind people as have ever been
Wont you take me back to my own home
Chorus:
Jump up behind me my love
Jump up behind me
Old dan can bear us both
Jump up behind me
We follow this road til we reach the sea
Jump up behind me
Well catch the tide and set dan free
Jump up behind me
Ive been in this world awhile
And Ive seen a lot of country
Many days and many miles
All various and sundry
Ive had my way and Ive had my fun
And Ive had my chance to run free
Burning hot beneath the sun
Freezing cold and wintry
Repeat chorus
I know now
Only one thing matters in these days
One thing, true love
Love and love alone
True love
I came out of a dream last night
Thought I was back in my old home
Mom and dad were both still alive
And the babies not yet born, no
Felt like a festival
Felt like a christmas morning
Felt the darkness fall away
Even as the world was turning
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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