The crowd in the street
They came out of their houses
screaming, whistling and jumping
most of the women wore only dirty blouses
but that couldnt stop them coming
they stopped at the end of the street
and said to one another in excited whispers
'i told that right here tonight they'd meet'
quite proud to be the worst rumour keepers
wife, husband and someone's lover
clawed away and cursed with no break
the wife fell, blood flowing from her like lava
but she raged on, till someone broke her neck
all assembled were untrained dramatists
they feigned horror and half shutr their eyes
a little boy shouted'what mighty fists'
a little girl fumed, but no one heard her cries
'she's dead'came a murmur from the back
like a wounded lion the husband roared
this was more excitement than he could take
so old Martin stroked and away he crawed
'she's dead' became the general cry
though she wasnt as the doctor saw at once
to be dissapointed, no one wanted to try
so on the husband, they all did pounce
the police stood aside
and the doctor grew pale
a journalilst scribbled with pride
'my editor tomorrow will just love this tale'
'hes dead'they shouted as they ran away
screaming, whistling and jumping
the police shot at them with bullets of clay
but that really couldnt stop them running
poem by Tinashe Severa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Red Blood & Black Tears Part 4
in the darkness of her room,
calming her self,
she has been raped,
bashed,
and cut all over,
shes telling her self,
that there is no help for her now,
her lover was dead,
she had no family,
no life,
and no one to help her,
she was all alone,
then there was a knock at the door,
she ran for it,
she got there,
it was the doctor who help her love and her-self,
he said,
your husband die of a Disease,
a poison had killed him,
for one of his knifes,
he told her to stop or she might be the same,
as he walked away,
she walked back inside,
with a smile on her face,
she was pleased,
that her husband did not kill himself,
and that there was somebody who cared,
she started to think,
about was the doctor had said,
should she stay the same,
or change to a everyday person,
she was thinking,
and thinking,
the she said,
I will...
poem by Harley Morriss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One-Sided Conversation
She sat, head bent,
In her old, grey chair,
The blinds were pulled and drawn,
The shadows caught
In the gathering gloom,
But she moved not at all;
Her husband, stood by the old oak door
He'd cleared his throat to speak,
'You wanted to see me, then, ' he said,
A pallor upon his cheek.
She knew, he thought,
She knew full well
His cheating, shiftless ways,
He'd married her more for her money
Than for her wit, her charm or grace.
She'd warned him once
She'd warned him twice,
She'd said that he made her sick,
Now he was the one who was feeling ill
As she still refused to speak.
'I 'spect you want
Me gone, ' he said,
And waited for some response,
She sat, head bent in her favourite chair
As he stood there, like a dunce.
'I need some money,
A thousand pounds,
Will get me out of a fix.'
The way she sat, and stared at the floor
Meant: 'No, I'll give you nix.'
He mopped his forehead
With trembling hands,
The sharks were closing in,
If she didn't come to his rescue, well,
He'd seen what they'd do to him…
'I beg you, think
Of your own good name, '
But she wasn't listening then,
Her face was grim, she stared at the floor,
With nothing left for him.
He went to a drawer
And took a gun,
Then held it up to his head,
'I'd never have thought you could be so cruel
To the man who shares your bed.'
The air grew chill
In the silent room
As he let out a plaintive cry,
The shot rang out, but she didn't move
As he fell to the floor, and died.
The doctor came,
And the police, of course,
But the wife still sat and stared,
The husband lay on the bloodstained rug
As if she'd never cared.
'It's very odd, '
Said the sergeant then,
But the Doctor suppressed a laugh,
'He's only been dead for an hour, ' he said,
'She's been dead for an hour and a half.'
9 April 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Help! , I lost my mobile…
Geetha was on shopping spree with her husband
And he was struggling to meet her demands
He borrowed her mobile to talk to his friend
To ask whether his credit card he would lend.
He was walking on the street
Busy talking without seeing where
he is landing his feet
And fell into an open manhole
Making his wife’s face turn pale.
Geetha screamed for help
And a policeman near her stopped
She shouted, “I lost my mobile,
My husband fell while talking on it, into manhole! ”
poem by Venkatesh M. R.
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
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A Brief History Of Modern Warfare Vis-a-Vis Men And Woman
The Evolutionary War Wife: Wife created in likeness of diety, concludes husband descended from ape.
The Uncivil Wife War: Slave man uprises against cruel evil owner.
The First World War Wife: The wife to end all wives. War declared. It ended.
Wife World War Two: No peace in our time. After years of conflict, loser Wife passes Marital Martial Plan. Husband gives all money to rebuild loser.
The Korean Police Action Wife: Too much action. Wife calls police. Peace breaks out after divorce.
The War Wife From Southeast Asia: Linga, linga ling, ling, ling, ling, ling. It's over.
The Islamic War Wife: Husband refuses to submit. Jihad finally forces him to knees. He prays it will end soon.
poem by Bob Eichen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Doctor’s Mistake
As towns flourish and teem with life
Of all colours and creeds
In one of them lived with his wife
A doctor, with certain needs
Life and practice were more than good
He’d friends on every side
Yet took to drugs so oft he could
Which soon would turn the tide
One day a bad mistake was made
A fault he tried to hide
With pills a man in bed was laid
Who very nearly died
His medicine was wrong of course
The doctor was so high
The dose he gave could kill a horse
A man would surely die
For many years the doctor’s wife
Had prayed both night and day
For God to change her husband’s life
And take the drugs away
Her prayers were heard God saw how sad
His daughter lived with tears
Although her husband’s deeds were bad
God freed them of their fears
The doctor’s heart began to melt
He joined his wife in prayer
“Oh Lord my God what guilt I’ve felt
Since knowing You are there”
Salvation came because a wife
Had knelt in fervent prayer
Not only had her husband life
But now! Life’s Truth they share.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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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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A Comedy of Error
A couple went to the family doctor
Husband to get his usual insulin dose
And wife takes her contraceptive injection.
There is a new doctor in the absence of the Physician.
The new doctor is really an absent minded mediocre
Who does illegal abortions?
It seems by mistake the syringes being changed
And the husband got the contraceptive and wife the insulin.
Then after sometimes she conceived for the fifth occasion.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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They Were In Love
There was a girl
and a boy
they were so cuie
and in love
they spent there days
and there nights
always in each others sight
they were in love
it came one day
they wanted to wed
there parents said
to go ahead
they had the wedding
and it was grand
they had a nice band
o how did they love
the king saw the girl
and wanted her as wife
with all his life
she was a beauty
he sent for her husband
he was needed for war
he said no more
I shall go
not much later
the king sent a letter
i know this is no better
your husband is dead
she was heart broken
she wept
why couldn’t she kept
her dear husband
all she owed
was taken away
she could not pay
what could she do
the king comforted her
he would make her queen
she was ever lean
she was a beauty
with the baby
on the way
what could she say
but yah
her baby boy was born
not soon after
all there was laughter
but she was sad
her husband returned
she cried with joy
and showed there baby boy
they were in love
but alas he found
she had wed another
and it was his brother
how angry he was
he went to the king
and draw his sword
ooo dear lord
he lost
he was be headed
going agents the king
no one did sing
he’s dead
knowing she betrayed
her dear love
she let go of her dove
she was in love
she took her knife
from under her gown
with no frown
drove it though her heart
the next day
she was found
blood all over her gown
she’s dead
the chamber maids
carried her out
with a shout
she’s dead
in her belly
was a baby
just maybe
it could o lived
in her death
she found him
every thing was mend
they were in love
so they set off
to kill there son
it quite a run
and the king
(its a baled)
poem by Lexxiey Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Babooshka
She wanted to test her husband.
She knew exactly what to do:
A pseudonym to fool him.
She couldnt have made a worse move.
She sent him scented letters,
And he received them with a strange delight.
Just like his wife
But how she was before the tears,
And how she was before the years flew by,
And how she was when she was beautiful.
She signed the letter
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
She wanted to take it further,
So she arranged a place to go,
To see if he
Would fall for her incognito.
And when he laid eyes on her,
He got the feeling they had met before.
Uncanny how she
Reminds him of his little lady,
Capacity to give him all he needs,
Just like his wife before she freezed on him,
Just like his wife when she was beautiful.
He shouted out, im
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Future Husband - Keeng Royalness Troy Turner
Stay over there!
Said he of dark and golden hair.
Who me? Yes me Queen Royalty Patreni!
I am the girl Keeng Troy will wed.
Tho he may be a lover in a mauseoleum
Alone and nearly dead?
An explanation for my sorrow
An answer to why I am so sad?
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
I have traveled far to see him
For he is mine and for me to claim
My future husband is in a mauseoleum
My future husband is nearly dead.
Another explanation for my sorrow
My love with him will come tomorrow.
Someday soon I'll see Keeng Troy at home
And to my good love he is most welcome.
Then perhaps I will be so glad
To bring him back to life again
After he was nearly dead!
------
Written By: RoyaltyPatrenia Turner, Queen Of England
(I am an Undercover-Christian Rite Cherokee Indian, and
I am also a USA Poetry Queen since the good year 2009.)
poem by Queen Of England RoyaltyPatrenia Turner
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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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The Adulterous Wife
As her Children sleep in their bed
While her husband lays down his sleepy head
She quietly gets up and starts continuing her lies,
As this is the story, of the Adulterous wife.
She lies and cheats and do the sins that she shouldn't,
Sadly though, this isn't the first time for this woman
As in her past she has done this all before
Sadly her husband didn't know, that he had married a whore.
As when he is at work, she was never at home
And when her girl's slept, she was never alone
She lied and cheated and used her husband for a price
As this is the story of the Adulterous wife.
She sneaks out of the house whenever she can
So she can jump in the bed of another man
He then uses her, and then she lies to him
But neither can lie to GOD, when their beginning becomes their end.
And when her daughter's get older and they feel the strife
I wander if they will be like their mother, the adulterous wife
She argues and fights with her husband all the time
Loyalty and love to her husband has been left far behind.
The vow she swore to GOD she has broke it once again
Now she is a marked woman, in front of women and men
She has affairs with her lovers, that only the devil could believe
Asking them to come and rescue her, and set herself free.
She is never happy unless she is in another mans bed
Only happiness she brings that man, is when he is dead
She tells her lies and say all her men of hers are abusers
But she never let them know, that she is but a user.
And she'll keep her lies from yesterday unto today
And while she sins, other men lay down to pray
How sad it is to live that type of sinful life
But this is the true story of the Adulterous wife.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear wife
I work so hard
I have no time for supper, breakfast, and dinner
Got a cracker and a noodle
A little solid a little hot liquid Are enough since I need a lot of time
Before my computer And this is non-stop working for the whole day
My cell phone is on silent mode and I cannot open it
I work the whole day, concentrated and straight It is eleven o’clock in the evening I arrive in the house and you say a lot of things I do not care anymore as I drag my dead tired body Towards the room and eyes half-closed I almost stepped upon your expensive porcelain vase
I lay on bed my shoes and sock still on my feet I did know anything since then Dead tired I am dead asleep.
If you are unhappy and do not like me
Find the man who is not tired, just leave me I am dead asleep.
i am just your loving husband, tomorrow i will still be your loving husband, yes tomorrow, even if you decided to go away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Faithful Wife
The faithful wife in the Christ
Obeys her husband's word;
Claims her own authority
By calling her husband, lord.
She will love her husband dearly
As she submits unto his hand,
Teaches younger women so
In this her family stands.
The faithful wife perceives in God
Her husband is given rule;
As he submits unto the Lord
But a rebellious wife is a fool.
poem by Richard Merrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Husband...
A husband should be
Loyal and honest
A husband should be
Strong and protective
A husband should be
Loving and romantic
A husband should be
Patient and understanding
A husband should know
When enough is enough
A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry
A husband should know
all your goals and dreams
A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses
A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his
poem by Sarah Holmes
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The Pearls of Verna Boone
I'd been alone for a year or so
Since Norma Jean had died,
I stayed in the house I'd bought for her
At the end of River Drive,
I'd felt her death as a fatal blow,
A crippling twist of fate,
For Norma Jean was my one true love,
Though I'd met her a little late!
I was past my prime when our eyes had met,
And she'd looked so young to me,
Her eyes had sparkled like diamonds set
As scarabs in sand and sea,
She saw the desert behind my eyes,
The emptiness in my life,
I stumbled over the words, but she
Said 'Yes! ' - She would be my wife!
I didn't know that she carried then
The seeds of a painful death,
Her face was flushed at the altar stone
And she seemed so short of breath,
I thought it merely a passing faint
That excitement had brought on,
As we stood in front of the Minister,
And joined our lives as one.
But then at home, she fell apart,
Collapsed on the kitchen floor,
I saw her lying, and coughing blood
Like I'd never seen before,
The doctor called, and he shook his head
As he left her there in the bed,
'I'm very sorry, ' the doctor sighed,
'But your lovely wife is dead! '
I cried and raged, and swore at fate
I smashed each wedding gift,
I wouldn't go to the funeral
But stayed at home and wept.
I cursed the heavens and thought that hell
Could never have been as bad
As a love that I'd waited a lifetime for,
A love that I'd never had!
The house next door was a rental place,
Stood empty for months that year,
But then a couple had moved on in,
I didn't see him, just her.
I thought that he was a traveller,
Was constantly on the road,
He came at night, and he left at dawn
In a battered and ancient Ford.
I had no reason to talk to them,
I sat at home with my grief,
I wandered out in the garden then
At one with each falling leaf,
But then one day, I heard her there
The other side of the fence,
Breaking her heart, as crying there
She sobbed with vehemence.
After a week of this, I climbed
The fence, and spoke to her,
'Why do you sigh, why do you cry? '
But she cried then all the more.
I walked around and sat with her
Quite late in the afternoon,
She smiled, and dried her eyes, and said,
'My name is Verna Boone! '
She said she'd only been married
Just a year this coming Spring,
But now that she knew the man he was,
Regretted everything,
He'd lost her money, just gambled it,
Had spent it on other girls,
And now they were left with nothing, he
Just wanted her mother's pearls!
'They're all I have to remember her, '
She sobbed, like a frightened child,
'They're worth a lot, but they're more to me, '
She looked at me, and smiled.
She took me inside and pulled them out
Three strings, they were very fine,
'He said that he's going to pawn them! '
Then she put her small hand in mine.
I was sad, alone and vulnerable,
I looked at her lovely curls,
She smiled at me, and she asked me then
If I'd care for her mother's pearls?
'I'll say they're lost, misplaced, I'll say,
He'll rant and rage, and more,
But he won't be able to pawn them now...'
Then she walked me to the door.
I took her home, and I placed the pearls
With the gems my wife had once:
'They'll be all right in the downstairs safe.'
It was then that she saw the gun.
She looked afraid, but she picked it up
And weighed it there in her hand,
I took it gently and locked it up
With the rest of my contraband.
'She must have watched as I spun the dial,
I know - I was such a fool! '
The sergeant sat and he stared at me,
And his stare was distant, cool.
He didn't believe a word I said
I could see that now, I'm done!
They put me back in a cell to wait
To be charged with Murder One!
She told them I had come over when
Her husband came home one night,
Waving a gun and ranting, then
Her husband put up a fight!
I'd shot him once through the head, she said,
Then taken her on the bed,
Stolen a fine pearl necklace,
Then beaten and left her for dead!
They found the gun on the floor, they said,
I knew that the gun was mine,
They found the pearls in my safe, they said,
It was only a question of time.
She sat at the back of the court while I
Was stood in the prisoner's dock,
And I noticed she wore her mother's pearls
With a nice new evening frock.
10 August 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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D. O. A.
We was broke and hungry on a summer day.
They sent the sheriff down to try and drive us away.
We was sittin ducks for the police man.
They found a dirty faced kid in a garbage can.
And Im alone, Im on the highway, wanted dead or alive,
Dead or alive.
Broken down and dirty, dressed in rags
A from the day my mama told me, boy, you pack your bags.
Send the mayor down in his pickup truck.
The jury look at me, say, outta luck.
And Im alone, Im on the highway, wanted dead or alive,
Dead or alive.
Now, Im broken down and dirty, dressed in rags
A from the day my mama told me, boy, you pack your bags.
We was sittin ducks for the police man.
They found a dirty faced kid in a garbage can.
And Im alone, Im on the highway, wanted dead or alive,
Dead or alive.
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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