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Husband Women Poems | Husband Poems About Women

These Husband Women poems are examples of Husband poems about Women. These are the best examples of Husband Women poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic | |

Pledge of love and loyalty

This pledge that l,Ntando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed l am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only lie
in word alone but in action as well.

For that reason in every season
I shall show steadfast commitment
to the implementation of this pledge
with a great deal of astuteness.
I therefore commit myself to be your
devoted and delivering husband for
all the years l shall live with you
on this earth.

I shall treat you with the love and care
you deserve as my wife.
Indeed l shall treat you with
the distinction and dignity
that is befitting of the queen of my heart.
That body, that bone, that breath
shall be my mine to treasure,
for sure;
a dearness to promote and protect
for dear life…and love!
I shall stand by and with you in all the
situations of our life.
If the situation demands that we sail,
sail we shall together.
If the situation demands that we
climb,
climb we shall together.

I know very well what l am getting into:
I am getting into a marriage that is
overflowing with blessings.
This marriage- with our mutual
commitment-
will stand the test of time.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
brims over with a transforming power
of love.

This marriage-with our
mutual commitment –
will transform naivety into maturity
troubles into challenges
pretence into practice
pride into progress
bachelorship into companionship.
I pledge to be your steward and partner
for all times.

I shall value the consultations
and decisions that we make as
husband and wife.
As head of the family I shall do nothing

 

to derail our love train for anything else
least of all for personal and selfish reasons.
Now and forever

I am your lawful and loving husband…
This pledge that l, Nothando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed I am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only
lie in pronouncements but in practice
as well.

For this reason every season
I shall demonstrate untiring love
and loyalty to you;
a love and a loyalty that is a living
embodiment of our marriage vows.
I therefore commit myself to be your
honouring, supportive and loving wife
for all the years l shall live with you.
I shall treat you with the love and care
that you deserve as my husband.
Indeed I shall treat you with
the dignity and nobility that is befitting
of the king of my heart.
On my mind it is always fresh
that I am the flesh of your flesh.
Green or grown

I am the bone of your bone.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
elevates me into a kingdom of wifehood.
I shall endevour to put my family first
with all the rights, obligations
and privileges that come with wifehood.
I shall endevour to wipe off and ward off
loneliness and lostness from our relationship,
seeking nothing but your companionship;
banking on your stewardship,
sinking together any hardship.
Since you are mine
I shall not do anything else to undermine
our relationship for personal
or egotistical
reasons.
Now and forever
I am your lawful and loving wife…


Details | Epic | |

Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast

In the deep core of her skin
I feel a human who is no saint  
Cutting out her heart, ripping everything in shreds
Leaving my prey gutless, in every form of sin
(HUSBAND) 
Watch the last beat of her heart as I slowly slaughter your (WIFE)
Thank you for participating as I slowly kill her in every way

Stripping her down, enjoying her birthday suit
Watch as I slice her throat,
enjoy the color red pumping out her neck
She gasp, she gulps on her blood
Gently I reach in and remove her silent tongue
I devour her deepness, for all the beauty you mistook 
Detaching all her limbs before she gave God her grace

I gave her no pity while she gave one last breath
Look at the empty emotions I left behind in her eye
Staring right back, as I  pound a new cavity in her chest
Laughing at her brutal cry!
Confessing, it was time to satisfy the demons within
Chuckle at the  thought, how beauty up and left
Trapped by God's given darkness, 
Depressing abyss no one will miss

Her mind such a waste, a hunger she left behind only I can taste 
Her eyes, I will cut and burn, for allowing him to blind her way-
Her red plum lips, I have sewn shut,  for never speaking up-
Her tongue I swallowed completely
I could not stand the crying of the soon to be slaughtered sheep
Bathing naked in her guts for not defending herself
Plunging out her spine, pricking my finger on her hip
My blood gushing out thick while hers flows thin
Analyzing while mutilating, myself reflected twin

A mistake was to lurk, trapping the beauty within 
Putting her in a coffin, knowing this will dry up the tears
I'm holding up a guard with an unbreakable shell
My prisoner in this body of lust, forgetting the meaning of hell

The women inside is dead, I murdered her long ago
The front I put upon is colder than snow
How can I let her find her Beauty-----------(WIFE)
When she still lives with the beast----------(HUSBAND)


I know her only secret,
That will give her life and brighten her glow
Give her a delicate rose and you will see!
The ugliness will melt, and reveal her true identity 

*Thank you Beast, 
*For reminding me what killed the Beauty 

Dark Poetry-Epic
~*~


Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....






Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Controlling Men: Physically, Mentally, and Verbally Abusive Men

All men (the loser boyfriends/husbands) think that it's their right to be physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward their female companions (girlfriends/wives), well they're wrong. Most guys are always beating their girlfriends/wives up every single day just because they didn't make their men dinner, do chores around the house, or whatever. It seems that these womanizing losers are way better than their women. Actually, they're not; they're idiots. Controlling these women and being physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward them don't make these Neanderthals men; they're like childish cowards. All guys think that they're the only breadwinners in their families and the women aren't. But guess what--they're not; some of them don't have jobs. And does anyone knows what gets on my nerves? Men always cheating on their girlfriends/wives with other women, getting them pregnant, and not taking care of the children they already have. And those controlling, abusive men, they're always telling their female spouses/lovers what to do, what to eat, where to look, and who to talk to. I mean, who are these womanizing losers to judge other men and to boss these women around? I mean, who does that? Everybody doesn't even know why they'd bother spending the rest of their lives with those abusive idiots. This whole saying by these controlling abusive men have been getting on everybody's nerves and my nerves, as well: "You're-not-to-speak-unless-spoken-to," this "You're-not-to-talk-to-your-family" ordeal, this whole "You're-not-to-have-guy-friends," and this whole "You need me! You're nothing without me! You have no money! You have no friends! Everything's in my name: the house, the cars, clothes, everything I own! You're useless! You're worthless! I own you for life! And you will respect me!" Where I come from, the rest of us nicer guys, we treat our women with the respect they rightfully deserve. The last time I checked, the mothers have raised their sons to treat women and other people with respect, but they now know where they've gone wrong with those womanizing clowns. My suggestion for the women is for them to leave their abusive husbands/boyfriends before it's too late because if they don't, they'll end up in the hospital or the morgue. To be honest, these women, they never should've met, let alone dated or married those abusive men to begin with. And if these abusive men think that they can control those women forever, they've got another coming.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Light Poetry | |

If Only

If I could spend my whole life with you,
It will only be a dream, because no such thing is true.
If no one open's their heart all the way through.
       How can I ever really give my heart to you? 
If I did you wouldn't have felt the pain you do.
Therefor no need to say sorry,
we just say it, because we know it's not true.
We say it just to get you through,
to have, to behold, the pain I gave you!
If  you should ever feel like this is your last breath,
to love, is to lay to rest.
It can feel worse than any death.
A women romancer is truly the best!
I've sacrifice nothing making you feel like you do,
but you have to learn to give credit, to where credit is due! 
Stimulating of the heart, Is to know where to start.
         My devotion is to myself,
I have to love me, before loving any one else
I'm done with the burden of pain, to have me, it's to what you'll gain.
To walk beside me, to never deny me. To love me, is to live as one.
For you can now, feel just where I come from.
To pave a new way, to this unacquainted highway.
         Intimacy is thee only thing I could offer to you.
For you could only be mine, no other friend will do.
To have you all to myself, is to deprive,
from liberty, to imprison, to confine to me. To surrender your heart,
thorough thick and, thin. To never let any other lover in,
to whom I'm your only friend, from the start till thee very end.
         To vow to never give away your heart, if we do break apart.
If I shall ever feel the love you do for me, I promise to love you for eternity!
To never have to say I'm sorry, for the love I'll feel for you.
For I could never put you through!
To  have a good women by your side, is to tell the truth, even if it make's me cry.
That's what it will take for you can be a real man.
To stand tall, to walk with pride, for a real man shouldn't have to lie.
If it should ever feel like it's way to hard, and we took this new found love way to far...
           Reminiscence of that day,
that I began to play thee O' Jays, when I used to be your girl,
till you opened my eyes to this cruel world.
I would like to start all over again, can you change my mind, to just go back in time.
For to truly love someone, is to let them free. 
To find each other again, it was truly meant to be!
To say this is true love, shall ever be a mystery.
For there's no paradise, in this so called world we call life.
     Until thee very day you make me your wife!


Details | Rhyme | |

Human or Humane

Human or Humane – Zamreen Zarook
 
The precious creature of the divine lord,
One differ from other as the playings of harpsichord,
Every single was a pass chord,
So as to go for their fatal reward.

Muscular system is a part,
Nervous system is an art,
Skeleton system is again a handcraft,
Things matters on the beauty of the heart.

Showing kindness and sympathy,
You become a man of empathy,
This leads to be healthy and wealthy,
Where as it makes your life lengthy.

Dummy body is human,
Love and kindness within it is the humane,
decide and alter your membrane,
Before you reach the torture of the hurricane.


Details | Haiku | |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul


Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Details | Free verse | |

Nakusa

She stands there, 
silently, 
as the khols
and taals
begin
to play.
If money had afforded, 
they would have found the
wrong chromosome.
Pat silk
Sitipati
Bangles
ornate
heads
fingers
feet
and she
begins
to sway.
Maatsya, 
the fish, 
life begins.
famished cries
unheeded, 
A crumpled woman, 
abandoned child.
Now she is the tortois
lifting herself
from the milky sap
of oleander, 
castor oil.
Bending, 
fingers spread, 
She gazes, 
smiling, 
sorrowful.
fearful.
Varaha- 
the boar.
She pulls
herself up
fingers dancing, 
feet stamping.
Narasimha
She overcomes.
She stands.
She spins.
Dowry.
Her worth measured
and found
insufficient.
Threats.
Shame.
A marriage worth
a decade of work.
She squats, 
Steps.
Vaman, 
The dwarf.
Her eyebrows lower.
Her lips pout.
Gazing off into
some far distance, 
she runs, 
stops.
Turns.
Returns.
She lifts her axe.
Parashuram
She sweeps her arms.
She holds her head high.
Her eyes twinkle
and she is free.
Shaking her finger, 
she sits
and takes up
her baby in her arms.
Rama.
She strikes the floor
right to left
bending
stretching
Head.
Neck.upraised foot.
A boy.
Joy.
Honor.
Pride.
She joins
her hands
and slides them
down
before
her eyes.
Before
her heart.
Lifting her finger
she philosophies, 
teaches, 
trains.
She lifts
her child.
He walks.
He runs.
She stirs.
She waits.
Her eyes
shift
from left to right.
Looking up, 
she lifts
her arms
open
inviting
above her head.
She rolls
her neck
and cradles
her womb.
A needle stick.
A girl.
Nakusa.
She falls to the ground
and she
cries.


Details | Sonnet | |

Women are always right

Furiously giving into a man
is the worse thing that a woman can do
when she knows she's right. He will think he can
get away with anything. Telling you
he's the boss and makes the rules from now on.
Last time I checked women had their own mind
thoughts and opinions. They don’t need, "I'm gone,
because your not my sweet old mama" kind
of speech. They need you to admit your wrong,
and tell them no matter how hard you try
that you will never be right. Sing a song
if you have to, just don’t make your girl cry.
Just remember that when you think your right,
your not. The woman always wins the fight.


Details | Free verse | |

Widow's Peak

Her name is now a legend 
Before her name was feared
The lady Henrietta 
Lean close and lend an ear

They say her status started
One night long time ago
She found her husband cheating
With the girl she knew next door

Her mind did snap
Her heart grew cold
With a knife she stole their souls
Cut the beating heart away 
Ate flesh when cold

Within her veins flowed the blood
Of the one who done her wrong
Gave her everlasting life
Her age in death was old

But one small thing that should be said
About the spell she cast
That beauty would always be her guide
In death she looked her best

Word spread quickly through the town
Where Henrietta lived
About the spell she cast the night
Her husband committed sin

Women came to ask for help 
To change their husband’s ways
For they had also messed around
Now love for them had strayed

With each one she gave the spell
Steps to end their grief
Now in the town such beauty found
In women who’s husbands cheat

With new found beauty each started life
Fresh and young again
And if the man they loved did cheat
Revenge was sweet again


Many many years went by
And soon the town was gone
Towards the end all that was left
Were women who were scorned

But in woods outside the town
In a placed called Widow’s Peak
You find plots of all the ones
Whose death came from a cheat

So this story lives today 
If you doubt then ask around
For the one you love and share a life
Could be a widow from that town

All men beware all women ask
Before you start your cheating
In every city and every town
A Widow’s Peak is forming

Believe me if you will or not
In the end you’ll heed the warning
Just let the one you love find out
To Widow’s Peak you’re going


Details | Ballade | |

Othello's women -WIN

The virtuous white ewe of the black ram
Shifting her loyalty like her mother 
As she wanted to live as she loved him
Oh, Alas! She has secretly married the moor.
Tricked by Emilia and pitched sexier
Both the women differently portrayed
Contrast between the two is key factor
The three women are used, abused and misused.

Emilia quite ahead of her time
Through her the bard comments on relation
Between husband and wife of a lifetime
Women as submissive in tradition
She goes on to suggest wrongs of women
Are the result of mistreat by husband
The ills of husband instruct the women
The three women are used, abused and misused.

Bianca is in great contrast in theme
Presenting the lowest call of woman
Something that is most apparent in crime
The way in which she is treated by men
Iago plays on great contrast between
Casio’s good treatment of both instead
The three women are used, abused and misused.

Women in Othello used in number
Of ways with class of the women differed
The way men act towards strangely rather
The three women are used, abused and misused.


* Rhyme scheme - 'ababbcbC ababbcbC ababbcbC bcbC',

======================================
I have revised the refrain "C" as this one is an old poem

Dr.Ram Mehta
5Th Place win in
Contest: Gothic or Romantic by Giorgio venetto


Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)


Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,

 

Her 17 year old body tossed aside,

 

by the hands of men.

 

Men, always men,

 

cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.

 

‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

who now lies cold and dead.

 

How many Anene Booysens will it take,

 

for us,
society,
families,
people,

 

human-beings,

 

and,

 

men, especially men,

 

to excise the ghastly menace,

 

of the heinous capacity that resides,

 

within men,

 

always men,

 

to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.

 

‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,

 

to die,

 

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site,

 

in Bredasdorp.

 

 

Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)

 

* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu

 

** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa


Details | Rhyme | |

What's Happening to Marriages Today

What’s Happening to Marriages Today?

I was listening to someone just the other day…
And I couldn’t believe what he had to say!

He had left his wife and children for another!
She was young enough to be his daughter!

Here they were, “in love” and holding hands!
Hoping to soon, get their “wedding bands!”

They were pretending that this was so “cool.”
Living now by their own “set of rules!”

How sick and disgusting this is getting to be!
Is this something that many can’t see?

God gave us Adam and Eve to become one.
To bear fruit through daughters and sons!

He gave us marriage as holy vows are made.
Not to march in an “adulterous parade!”

We are treading on very dangerous ground!
Faithfulness and commitment 
are scarcely found!

The very definition of marriage is changing!
As the family unit is always rearranging!

Our only hope is in Jesus!  And him alone!
Let’s promote his love! Into our hearts and home!

Let’s allow his love to be our heart’s glue!
And bring new meaning to the words; “I love you!”

May his love bind our hearts and lives together!
And remain faithful to each other forever!

By Jim Pemberton    


Details | Couplet | |

Communication by touch

Communication by touch 
is not for every old dutch.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more


Details | Rhyme | |

White Saree

       White Saree

You my friend! In White(1) Saree(2) and grim faced
Your dresses were, as always, colorful and laced
What happened to that enchanting, infectious smile?
Where is that enthusiasm, your charming style?

Death is a reality and everyone must die
The living ones mustn’t be left for agony to fry
Humans are not candles that burn through the night
Tell me why widowers are not made to wear White

Why should only women this branding endure
They are also human with a heart and soul for sure
Change this White Saree and in the garbage throw
This is how a system that is archaic must go

          Come to me, my love, let me tell you what is life
Your being mustn’t be embodiment of agony and strife
Give up this white coffin and wear red, scarlet and pink
The fountain of life is gushing out; it is for you to drink

Let us, like our olden days, in horizon of thoughts fly 
Life’s rainbows await you; so do colors of butterfly
Shed your gloom and let the roses of your cheeks blossom
Walk along the valley of life hand in hand with a handsom
                                   ------
(1) In Hindu religion the widowed women are forced to wear only white cotton clothes
(2) Traditional dress of Indian & Bangladeshi women and also some other far eastern countries


Details | Diamante | |

Women

women
fruitful, soft
intoxicating, inviting, confusing
nymphs, queens, kings, bruts
embracing, overbearing, alluring
strong, brave
men


Details | I do not know? | |

Passion in D-Major

Passion in D-Major


Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,

swirling,

to a symphonic crescendo,

of our shared heartbeats,

fading between the notes,

feeling your soft body entwined 
with mine,

your form bathed in my infinite 
kisses,

our orchestral desire rising,

conducting a shared fusing of 
passion,

... the music echoing ...

over the precipice,

on the brink of dazzling rainbow 
hues,

lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,

plunging through the depths of 
rhyme,

pleading,
forever pleading,

for a prolonged,

bouquet of shared time.


Details | Rhyme | |

Husband For Hire

He’s a married man who lost his job,
During a depressed economic time;
Willing to do laborious work around your house -
Any kind of odd job he can find.

The kind of things a husband normally would do,
For women who lived without a man;
He could come over and take care of them,
Doing anything that he possibly can.

He could lift heavy boxes or mend a broken fence;
Cut your grass or even take you to a dance;
His wife even said she would look the other way
If you want other husbandly duties and are willing to pay.

He would do his job well then he wouldn’t hang around;
The best thing going all the single ladies found.
By word of mouth recommendations were spread;
Better than in his last job he kept his family fed.

Married women even had jobs for him to do,
When their husbands were travelling for a night or two;
His calendar fills fast so call now if you want him,
He’ll do what he can to try to fit you in.

He’s a married man who lost his job,
During a depressed economic time;
Willing to do laborious work around your house -
Any kind of odd job he can find.


Details | Epic | |

Marriages

Marriages are for when the husbands and the wives are determined to stay together for what
will be the rest of their lives. These people have been married to each other since they
day the men and the women met through their relatives or old friends from either high
school or college. It seems that when a man and a woman have read their vows to each
other, they don't ever break. And once the men and the women are married to each other,
there's no more going to bars, no more going to any of those dating websites, and no more
enjoying the bachelor/bachelorette life, ever. Ones who commit infidelity will allow the
marriage to have ended in a divorce. Marriages also mean that these two people mustn't
cheat on each other with other men/women, even if he/she is as attractive as the current
husband/current wife is. Sometimes most marriages will last at least four months, but some
of them will have lasted for more that sixty to eighty years. The children will have been
born after these two people (a man and a woman) have been married to each other,
especially when they're planning on starting an actual family. Why, this is starting to
look like an episode of "The Newlywed Game" hosted by Robert "Bobby" Eubanks, Carnie
Wilson, and Sherri Sheppard. Those marriages are not just a unity of a man and a woman,
marriages are a unity of same-sex couples (two men and/or two women), especially when
they're about adopt some children of all foreign countries, including Haiti or China. But
even if all married couples have to deal with financial situations, monthly bills, the
arguments, or whatever, these two people must know that they still love each other and
must always be supportive of what their plans for the future are. And no matter the
struggle or other guys and/or women that will have interfered in their marriages that day
in and day out, all married couples must tell the others that their happily married and to
have spared them the embarrassment in the near future. And if these marriages were to last
until the end of time, that would be great for all married couples. Newlyweds, too.


Details | Couplet | |

A marriage and a bet

One’s meanness and the other’s foolishness abet
them in arranging both a marriage and a bet. 

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


Details | Epic | |

A Woman Scorned

There's no fury like the wrath of a woman scorn. Every woman will have known that they
will have been lied to, cheated on, and deceived by their husbands/boyfriends and will
have driven them over the edge. It seems that these men (the boyfriends/husbands) have
been taking these women (the girlfriends/wives) and what they've done for them for granted
and it's not right. It also seems that these women are not good for the guys and the women
are angry about it. Some of the guys (the husbands/boyfriends) think that other women are
way more intelligent and way more attractive than their current wives/girlfriends,
especially when these men are having multiple affairs behind the backs of their women. A
woman's scorn means that all of the ladies have had enough of being lied to, cheated on,
and being belittled by a bunch of womanizing jerks, that includes the loser boyfriends.
And for a bunch of women scorned by infidelities and lies, there's such thing as bad
karma. What these bad guys did to their women will happen to them in the near future, and
when they pass on, these womanizing fiends will meet their judgment day and God will
punish them for all of the misdeeds they've done. The men may lie to their women and they
may lie to their family members, that will have included their parents, but they can't lie
to Him. He sees everything that's going on, and the men (husbands/boyfriends) are going to
pay for what they did to their women (wives/girlfriends). And like the saying goes:
"there's no fury like the wrath of a woman scorned." These men better be really careful
around these women because if they take them for granted, there's going to be heck to pay.


Details | Rhyme | |

Mom I'm Pregnant

“Mom….   I’m Pregnant!”


From the time I held my baby 
in my arms…
I made a vow to “protect her from all harm.”

She was indeed a wonderful bundle of joy…
And during her life, has been a gift for us to enjoy.

She's been  the focus of much of our attention,
Trying to provide for her 
“timely” correction.

As a father, many thoughts entered my mind…
I wanted to be attentive to her, 
patient and kind.

As she's gone through 
her teenage years…
I thought of what perhaps is a parent’s #1 “fear.”

Then one day... “Mom I’m pregnant” were spoken...
At first, my heart was sad and “broken.”

“I didn’t raise her to be “crazy and wild…”
“How could this happen to a wonderful child?”

I realized that in spite of everything
 parent’s will do.
There’s no telling what their 
children will put them through.

I gave her a hug and all of the
 support  I could give…
Everything she’s been through…
 God will forgive!

With all that has happened in her life…
One day she’ll make someone a wonderful wife!

Dear Lord, please help my daugher to see...
How precious she is to her mother and me!




Entered in the contest; "Mom I'm Pregnant!"
Sponsored by Gwendolen Rix

Key findings
National levels and trends
• In 2006, 750,000 women younger than 20 became pregnant. The pregnancy rate 
was 71.5 pregnancies per 1,000 women aged 15–19.


Details | Free verse | |

You Don't Know Her

A beautiful women on the corner of the street;
Short mini skirt, leopard print blouse, and stillettos on her feet.
Gorgeous blonde hair flowing down her back;
Too much make-up on her face and a fake tan to match.
Selling her body to guys out of town;
How foolish she looks, almost like a clown.
There is no reason for a women to justify herself that way;
Does she even realize that it's the middle of the day?
I bet she does drugs and that is why she needs the money;
Then a women beside me states, "You don't know her honey."

She is sweet as can be and has a heart full of gold;
That young girl there is only twenty years old.
Two twin girls at age seventeen she had;
A faithful husband to her, he was an amazing dad.
She got married young, but it was love at first sight;
Her husband called for duty in the middle of the night.
A phone call recieved that would change her life;
News that will break down any military wife.
Her loving husband killed in war; their future together gone.
No money for her and the kids; she needed to move on.
She does the best she can for her three-year old babies;
Only does it to support their needs; No ifs, ands, or maybes.
This woman you judge, you have no idea where her life is at;
I apologize and say, "You're right; I don't know her like that."



Details | Rhyme | |

You Take God I'll Take Booze, Drugs And Women

You Take Your God…
I’ll Take My Booze, Drugs And Women!


Someone recently asked me: “Are you listenin’?”
“You take your God!”  “I’ll take my booze, drugs and women!

I’ve been there! When I lived for “the pleasure of the day.”
I didn’t want to listen to what God had to say!

Whatever felt “good.”  I wanted to “live it up!”
There were many things I tried, that I let “fill me up.”

But whatever I tried…  No matter how 
happy I wanted to be.
There was still something empty deep inside of me!

I’ve seen families break apart, over a bottle of booze.
In the end, it seemed like everyone was going to lose!

I’ve seen drugs lead people into heavy addictions.
And have seen them die from various afflictions!

I’ve seen grown man having “affairs” of various kinds.
Only to burn in lust with very “sex craved” minds!

Is this the real fun that people seem to crave?
But too often, end up in an early grave?

Will someone please tell me what going on?
Or, have many people just “have it all wrong?”

There’s a God!  And he wants to make this very clear!
Today may be your party!  But his judgment is near!

Everything that you try will one day fail you!
The life God offers, will never disappoint you!

He is the answer for the satisfaction you seek!
You need him in your life!  Each day of the week!

Won’t you allow his love and peace into your life today!
He’ll show you how to really live
 in a brand new way!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

Cheater

They stay inside, snuggled together due to the snow
And he continues to ask himself   "Does she know?"
Answering himself  saying  "Of course not"
"How could she? Thats a long shot "
He still doubts himself "Maybe she knows "
Repeating his answer "She can't though "
He knows he has made a mistake
That he consecutively makes
The breaking of his vows
Since he has browsed
For women upon women
But it should stay hidden 
Since he leaves no trail, this secret will be taken to his grave
But the problem is he won't stop! He always craves
He is right, she is oblivious to his cheating
And all the women he is meeting
But little does he know his wife does it even more than he
And he knows not the irony
That she sits there, asking herself "Will he ever know " ?


Details | Rhyme | |

Virago

Oh Virago, I wish thee were a Virgo
but thou snaps thy gaping jaws
Waving Cancer's claws
Thy most tenacious tongue
I come undone
No longer a shy fellow
For Thy lashings driven me yellow
Dear Virago, common courtesy
quakes
Thy curtsy shakes
Slowly I wane
Oh, most sublime pain
Supreme leisure
Am I to be the benefactor of
thine pleasure?
Thy pink lips have tinted mine blue
Most noble Virago, sainted shrew


-------
virago- I came across this old term when I was reading old short stories. :D basially means shrew.