Shawn and Shauna fell deeply in love
And were on their way to be wed
When a car, on that day, took their lives straight away
As both of their bodies, lie dead
But their spirits were both drawn to heaven
As they stood, in front of the gates
Saint Peter was there, at the top of the stairs
When Shawn hollered loudly “Just Wait"
Now Peter looked puzzled, at Shawn
And said "This is no time to tarry "
Shawn spoke again, and refused to go in
Without being properly married
Saint Peter replied very softly
"We don't do that kind of thing here
But if you're willing to wait,
“I’ll see if I can, get it cleared”
Three months went by, while they waited
Saint Peter, show up with a Priest
"I know it was slow, But I want you to know
You’ll be married Forever at least"
As the wedding was getting started
Shawn asked a question, with doubt
What happens here in heaven
“If this marriage just doesn’t work out”
A silent filled up the heavens
Saint Peter, was shaking his head
And once he regained his composure
This is what Saint Peter said
“It took Three Months to find a Priest
In this Heavenly Foyer
How long do you think, I’ll take for me
Up here, to find you a Lawyer ?”
His lovely wife is named Heaven
She scolds him seventy times seven
Yet, Big Joe just never really cared
In Heaven he lives happily, hearing impaired!
Stacey Brown 2-6-14
Dr. Ram Mehta contest
Husbands are in heaven
whose wives scold not
It’s a mother-in-law’s right, her prerogative
To ‘drop in’ on her son almost any time,
But a mother-in-law should always be prepared
For almost anything she may find.
So, Mother Cready dropped in unannounced;
But as she approached her son’s front door,
Suddenly it opened. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?”
His young wife stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
“Oh, my word!” Mother Cready exclaimed with surprise.
“Why are you naked? Are you insane?”
Just as surprised, the young wife pulled her inside.
“Please, Mother Cready…if you’ll just let me explain.
You see, when Mac has had a rough day,
When he’s been under a lot of stress,
Sometimes I meet him at the door
With a smile and a kiss in my happy dress.
It always relaxes him and makes him happy,
Then he makes me very happy too.
It works for Mac and me, Mother Cready;
Maybe it would work for you.”
“We’re too old for such.” scoffed Mother Cready.
“Perhaps if we were young like the two of you.”
But, on her way home, she decided
She was definitely going to try it too.
So, she bathed and put on some nice perfume,
Fixed her make-up and her hair.
She was thinking some very sexy thoughts,
But she had to hurry…no time to spare.
She heard her husband’s car in the driveway;
And as he approached their front door,
She threw it open. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?"
She stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
She saw a little grimace cross his face,
But that was not the worst.
Then he said, “I appreciate your happy dress, my dear;
But maybe you should have ironed it first.”
ALTERNATE LAST VERSE
“Well…your ‘happy dress’ could use some ironing;
But my birthday suit could use some starch.”
He kissed her. “Bet you and I can work it out.”;
And off to bed they marched.
A slight hint of consternation was in her voice,
“Why did you tell those people I’m deaf and dumb?”
“I never said you were deaf, my Dear.”
She laughed, but I kinda felt like a bum.
Hell. It was just a joke.
One evening, she asked, “Will you love me if I get chubby?”
I responded, “Of course I still love you.
It would take much more than pounds and cellulite
To make me fall out of love…it’s true.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
“Would you remarry if I die before you?” she asked.
I said, “No…probably not…I’ve been spoiled by you.”
“But you’ve been a great husband. I think you should.”
“Whatever happens, happens is the best I can do.”
“If you remarried, would you play golf with your new wife?
And would you let her use my clubs?” she demanded.
I calmly smiled and said, “Your clubs are safe.
You see, my Dear…she’s left handed.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
Then, she whined and whined about her butt.
I responded, “Want to knock some inches off that ass?
It may sound strange, but I heard it works….
Rinse all your panties in Slim Fast.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
The next day, I readied for work, took ‘undies’ from my drawer.
They were engulfed in a fog of white, why I didn’t know.
So, I asked, “Honey! Why did you put talcum powder on my shorts?”
She slyly smiled, “That’s not talcum powder. That’s Miracle Gro.”
Hell. It was just a joke....I guess.
So, what is my wife’s most endearing feature?
Her sense of humor.... there’s no doubt.
Always a smile where angst or anger might have been,
A smile I never want to be without.
Before the "I do" she must choose
A man that does well in dance shoes
His psyche gives a clue
When employing step two
Ply him to the limit with booze
Make Me Laugh Contest
For Heather Ober
3 July 2013
Freda Cheda was a skank.
Her whole dang body stank.
Frank “Fugly” Ugly loved her anyway.
He thought about her night and day.
They got married and it was quite rank.
My wife always says I’m the best
A feeling which brought me much zest
One night wild thoughts flew
In search of a clue
I wondered just who were the rest
The sun was shining brightly
As we drove around his land
And showing me his kingdom
First, before he asked my hand
We stopped for cake and coffee
It was almost half past two
And that tall man was shaking
When he told me I love you
He gently bent to kiss me
His lips began shaking fast
I thought this was the moment
That he would ask me at last
We climbed inside his Audi
Driving slowly to his farm
I thought this was the moment
When he gently touched my arm
But no, he was just helping
Me kindly into the house
We both walk in together
Was he playing cat and mouse
At six o’clock he brought me
Out to watch him milk the cows
And sitting on the stone fence
I watched as he fed the sows
I never thought he’d ask me
As I sat perched on my thrown
Then came, will you marry me
And his farm became my home
I know that’s not romantic
In this land of poetry
But standing in the manure
Was better than bended knee
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: Will you Marry Me
The wife plans a spree to buy all
With husband on board at the mall
But as this takes place
He just looks for a space
To sit on a bench in the hall
Just a honeymoon beach vacation,
A fine nuptial love celebration;
We arrived a night early,
We would find hotel surely:
“No rooms” was the sad proclamation.
“An hour away you might find one.”
They were right for we only found…NONE!!
We got off beaten path.
Too tired then to laugh,
Looked for a place “mom and pop” run.
Well, it must have been close to midnight,
Exhausted the lady and her knight;
We found Motel Warwick,
A guest house illicit,
And christened our honeymoon site.
July 13, 2014
My one attempt at marriage
Was like a union between McCoy and Kahn
Both a wee-bit dramatic
Like living a full fledge grand opera
"My God man, we're living a circus
And you have jumped off the deep end
What you're proposing is lunacy
I'm a doctor, not a barbarian!"
"Have you heard the Klingon expression
Revenge is a dish best served cold?
If you want to make this marriage work
Then damn you!!!! Do as you're told!!!!"
(McCoy and Kahn)
"For God's sake listen to yourself
What you're saying is just plain crazy"
"From hell's hot I stab at thee......
For hate's sake, I spit my last breath..........at thee.........."
[no, the marriage didn't work out, haha. And last night I ran into my
ex-wife. She had the gall to speak to me. So I just wrote this with
genuine laughter in my heart.]
My wife she says that at housework I suck,
She yelled "pick up a broom you schmuck!"
But babe, all that cleanin and dustin
Leaves no time for drinkin and lustin!
But she said "no dustin, no lustin!"...WTF!
Every week on Friday
McGee worked late at night
But this time would be different
The work load seem real light
So he left a little early
Punched his card and tipped his hat
Then headed to O'Malley's
For a stiff one and some chat
But a feeling seem to come to him
Perhaps He'd just go home
And surprise his little wife
That's waiting there alone
So he walks down the empty streets
"Till he made it to his door
Takes his shoes off as he enters
As to tip-toe cross the floor
That's when he hears some noise
Cracks the bedroom door to see
His Buddy Finn and his wife
Are making merrily
Oh, McGee he got so flustered
But didn't stop their fun
And slowly crept away
To the next room for his gun
He was locked and Loaded
When he kicked right through the door
With the gun at his head, He said,
"I can't take this anymore"
But his wife left the bed
And knelt down on her knees
And begged him not to kill himself
and "Put the gun down,Please"
McGee then looked upon his wife
His expression was quite vexed
Then he told her to "SHUT UP"
Cause she was surly NEXT !
“One of the biggest kicks a person can have is a feeling of righteous indignation.”
~ Alan Watts, in a recorded talk titled “Reality, Art, and Illusion” (1965)
If gay folks can marry, is marriage worth less?
Your love and attachment worth nothing, of course
Or maybe those just don’t exist – let’s confess
You’d rather they cheapen the cost of divorce.
If gay folks can marry, does that mean God failed?
Deny they came out swinging as you despise –
Makes sense to assert that God would’ve prevailed
Had man skipped the paperwork that sanctifies.
If gay folks can marry, say who is worse off?
The billions of us, dear, engaging in sex?
Our billions more children won’t have room to scoff
Or private space left to repeat such prospects.
If gay folks can marry, so what’s it to you?
The sanction of hedonists’ day in the sun
That you’d rather darken when this is what’s true:
You’re jealous to miss out on all of the fun.
~ Thanks Always Returns
What's with that yelling already?
Me Tarzan, Me Man, Me Make Noise
I can see that. Inside voice, please.
You'll wake up Cheetah and you know
How grumpy he gets if his nap is interrupted
Enough, I know already
Me hungry, Jane make lunch
Now wait a minute Jungle Boy, I'm tired
Of waiting on you hand and foot
Make your own lunch
Woman take care of Man, Woman listen to Man, Law of Jungle
That doesn't impress me, loin cloth breath!
Jane talk funny since trip to Ameeereeka
Listen here tree vine jockey, I learned a lot in New Joysee
Women have rights, they used to burn their bras
What is bras, me no understand
Didn't think so. Either you treat me with respect or I'm out of here!
Where Jane go?
Maybe back to New Joysee
Tarzan listen Jane
Jane teach Tarzan respect
Now you're talking
First lesson, what's for lunch?
The Saga of dusty roads of Utah
(To the memory of Don W. Esplin, father of Kathryn Esplin-Oleski)
There he was playing with some mild explosives,
in his own backyard, a resolute boy he is;
the June month had swelled like the taut belly of
a neighborhood lady; the boy wanted to be
a scientist which he became. He, of course could not
envision that all these sepia dust of Utah,
the noon backyard and a young scientist’s narrative
would be remembered by his explosive daughter
and a strange Indian was going to pen a saga.
Alfred Nobel was smiling from a page of a book
The boy rolled a cigarette, the smoke’s curlicues
swirl up to grain the picture. A blast almost choked
the bright blue jays and robins. Defused sun slanted.
The end of the road was just an end of the road
where sun could meet earth, warm grass shook off the heat
and the covert window of the farm house would yield
a father and son talk. Strong argument on
future, on an university, on money
on a world that could differ in generations;
of course the boy, as a father, understood
his girl, then living apart. But distance is in heart.
He would grow up midst dreams. A quirky wind would blow him
here and there; navy, marriage and science,
pharmacology and marriage again; a gust
of wind would take him on a ride that, if he could
read this he would have said, resembled his truck rides
down the roads of Utah. But at that point of time
he was wide awake inside his misty night’s sleep
and an American novel is shooting up
its multiple heads in search of fresh oxygen.
The waves of moon were enjoying a full tide.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Stop being suggestive
With that choccy digestive
Just stick it in your gob
And pass me a hob nob
-Dharga Nagar Safa
Q married to U,
I do not know?
Why get stuck in an awful marriage forever more.
Never again will you be able to soar.
You will be able to adore.
Only you won’t adore,
But you will regret forever more.
Between freedom you’ll be torn.
In a marriage I’ll never be scorn.
It’s a curse forever worn.
I fell sorry for the ones this disease hath born.