Prose Poetry Husband Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Husband

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Details | Prose Poetry |

A Husband Abuse

                                     ~A Husband Abuse~.
                                  My husband after 10 years
                                         his love turned 
                                            into hatred
                                    When he buried my soul
                                        stole my strength 
                                         for his own self 
                                 drowned my head to suffocate me
                                       leaving me breathless.

                                       When he betrayed my 
                                              love & broke 
                                           my ego towards a 
                                               helpless fate. 
                       I need to forget when he laughed with everyone 
                                            but made me cry. 
                                        When he looked old to make 
                                                me feel older
                                        when he broke my mirror  
                                           to make me look ugly 
                                when he breathed but suffocated me 
                                             stepped on my shadow 
                                             to erase my existence.
                                  His heart was like a ship loaded with anger
                               When that night he slashed my body into pieces
                                          till the ocean turned red
                                              rescued by my 2 sons.
                                     Todays scars are all over my body.
                                            This I cannot forget.
 Therese Bacha                                          

Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

You Haven't Left

You haven’t left my heart
You haven’t left my mind
I’m just trying
To give you some time
Something happened in your life
You don’t care to explain
Or just can’t talk about
Until you feel the time is right
It’s o.k. my friend
I can understand
Just don’t think of my silence
As coming from an uncaring heart
For I would freely give
All that I’ve got and am
To be by your side
To be your confidant
For you mean much more to me
Than a simple hello
Or kiss in the night
You’re the very hope
That brings light into everyday
And I’ll be there for you
In any way that you allow
You’re not just a hand to be held
A touch to be felt
Or a pleasure conquered 
You’re the very hope
Of what life could be
Were I to be the one
To win your heart
So while you take this walk
Know it doesn’t have to be
Or really isn’t alone
For you haven’t left my heart
You haven’t left my mind
And should you need or care to reach
My hand is always here

Copyright © Mike Hamill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"

Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

In The Mood

                        ~In The Mood For Love~
With a candle light & a glass of champagne after a year 
of our marriage we came back to the same garden where 
we met and fell in love a promise we will keep 
each anniversary.

Today still in the mood for love sitting listening to sounds 
of music while our lips met kissing to cool our hunger for 
making love at the end of this unforgettable evening

He was so much in this mood of repeating what he told me
the day we met.
When I am with you,the sun will wake up the sky will welcome 
you,look out the window and see the sea a pale blue under a blue sky. 
God I`m happy to be with you my brain is my own,I feel vibrant,
I feel alive,thank you world.

When I am with you, I love every grain of sand, every drop of water,
every bit of air I breath, I love every image that my eyes are blessed 
to watch, every bird that flies across the sky, I feel alive again.

I feel in the mood of living endlessly,I feel softness back in my heart,
I feel I can be generous to give,give,because I am so full of happiness,
I feel in the mood of loving you more & more.

When I am with you,every hour has beauty and meaning,one after
the other they form a day,a night,another day,another night,
and it all has a purpose,It all means consistency .
Do you remember?Yes my darling,I do.

When I am here with you,I feel if I listen, I will hear answers,If I look,
I will see truth,I am so happy to share my feelings with you because 
I know you will understand,I want so much for you to experience the 
power of my feelings towards you. 

We never pass through lifeless moments when we are together,
we both stay awake, alive,moments that wouldn't ever be wiped out, 
they remain engraved in our heart. 

Here,your approach was a blessing to both of us. We were sitting in a 
crowded area,yet we were alone, we could both hear only the muteness 
that surrounded our encounter.Oh the beauty when your lips are wet,
you purposely put me in the mood for love eternally.

Therese Bacha                                      
2/5/2013    ( Win No.9)

Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013

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.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Love With Songs

I hold his heart now
as I have always done
yet, now he is more than my spouse
he sends me music so I know I am the only one

Each and every song he sends gives my heart to him
he knows the way to my soul
a simple song sent from his phone again
but I feel every word and I know I will never live alone

As long as I have his songs to dwell on
it is re-enforcing his truth
and even though he tells me
those lyrics make me fall in love all over as in youth

He has become my music man
helping me build my Native American flutes
my darling husband keeps me founded in my roots
but when I play for him. now, I hope he feels my love in music too

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Missing the Man in the Hat

It was early one morning, when you arrived..
You entered the restaurant and I noticed your stride..
Your manner of dress was quite elegant.. and ..
It appeared you were having breakfast...
With a very important guest..
Seated at the table, and I couldn’t help but notice,
The strange thing you did , when you removed from your purse..  
An old and tattered faded hat..
You took it lovingly in your hands and..
Proceeded to give it a kiss..
As you placed it across from where you sat...
I knew it belonged to someone you missed..
Then you did something strange...
You did a smile and a wink.. 
Poured two cups and I began to think....
Perhaps the car was being parked,
And soon your friend would join you..
As I sat and watched you seemed to be...
Engrossed in a conversation...
The twinkle in your eyes and the smile on your face..
Sent the message you were in a happy place...
Then you got out of your chair...and hugged the air..
And left the same way you came...but ..
I heard you say as you walked away..
Same time..same place next year ?

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

Coming home to you everyday

My best friend is just a few yards away
not feeling well she’s had a long day.
Right now in our bedroom watching a cooking show
I don’t under stand it, she knows all there is to know.

As with every thing else she always wants to do better
she gives it her best even when she’s under the weather. 

My best friend is my most loving wife
She has given me the best years of her life.

It’s been thirty nine years since I took her as my bride
That’s thirty nine years with my best friend by my side.	

A lot has happened since our day in September
some things forgotten but the best I still remember.

I remember the warmth and passion of our youth
I still feel it when I think of you and that’s the truth.

I remember worrying that my job would call me away
all I ever wanted was to come home to you everyday.

Copyright © Monty Newman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Man Who Loved Gimewanookwe

He searches her face, scarcely remembering a time
He did not know her; seeing now her dark eyes
Surrounded by age and closed against the pain.

He searches her face, remembering the first time he saw her
Stepping lightly across the river carrying the basket filled with berries.

He searches her face, remembering for a moment the sparkling defiance
Brought about by the choice she made for love.

He searches her face, scarcely daring to hope her eyes will clear
And she will know him again, know him as once she did when their love was new.

He searches her face, willing her to come back,
To lose the demons that return again and again to steal her power
And shut her away from him.

He searches her face, not wanting to look away,
He softly speaks her name, Gimewanookwe, remembering the first time
He whispered her name in love.

He searches her face, smoothing back the graying hair, stroking the lines of pain,
Feeling the faint, weak pulse of her courageous heart.

He searches her face, he speaks her name again, Gimewanookwe, she whom I love,
Gimewanookwe, Rain Woman.

He searches her face, willing her to open her eyes, willing her to remember
And rise up from this bed, rise up and be healed of this crippling fever.

He searches her face, praying for a sign, praying she will return to him
As she was before the white man’s illness.

He searches her face, wondering where she will go when she passes from him,
For he knows she is nearly gone; he takes her gently in his arms.

He searches her face and hears the first drops of rain falling softly upon the quiet land;
He knows what he must do.

He searches her face as he gently lifts her from the bed; she weighs no more than a child.
He wraps the blanket tightly around his only love and carries her out into the night rain.

He searches her face as he lays her down on the grass beside the garden.
Rain falls softly on her face; the quiet touch of God

He watches her face; her eyes widen and brighten.
Once again he searches for life, then softly whispers her name, Gimewanookwe,
Before he gently closes her eyes.

{In Honor of Constance, the Rambling Poet, 
in gratitude for inspiring this poem with her contest ‘Rain’.}

Copyright © deb radke | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |


I can’t wait to have a love match

With you in a love nest 

Surrounded by love-lies-bleeding

Sitting on the love seat 

Where we hold a love knot together

And with love beads around your neck

After which we’ll travel down to Love-land 

Where we will be joined in a love-in

(c) 2010

Copyright © Joshua Akinwande | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

My Forever Love

MyForever Love

You are my Love.
My Forever One.
To me there is no other
that satisfies my heart.
Though Life only affords
so few precious moments.
You are my Love,
My Forever One.

Copyright © Joyce Cheeves-Whitney | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


I landed down
I dropped down to
My native soil
A tradition met
An initiative into womanhood
I am a woman
And a man I must choose
Norms speaks not of any man
But “The man”
The real man
Is there a man in every man?
Not in the least
The man is my life’s side warrior
My life’s second guard
He must remain the protector of my eggs
This man I search
Amongst all men
He stands tall
With none coming first 
But me, his woman
This man must have a woman in him
The side that gives him compassion
A feminine sense of love
That man I seek
He is the real man
My husband, the father of my children!

Copyright © Victoria Nunoo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Day The Music Stopped

I know that you are gone
but I still hear your footsteps on the walk…
your key in the lock…the dog welcoming you home.
“What’s for dinner?’’ you ask
“I am,” I playfully reply and smile
as you sweep me up in a bear hug and I can hardly breathe!

Your clothes hang in the closet waiting for your return.
I listen to your voice on the answering machine 
a hundred times a day  to prove you are still here.
I never imagined when you left me that morning
That this would be the last time we kissed..
I never would have let you go.

This date will forever be a day of shame and heartbreak
The world and I will never forget
This September 11th
The day the music stopped!

Copyright©2001 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)

Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

What if I Kissed You

A kiss, a kiss was all I asked for, symbolizing my undying admiration of you as a whole, tainting your lips with ones that have whispered sweet nothings to your ears, ears that I made stand on their toes for the unexpected, becoming more apprehensive, but so much has happened in the past few days, if there's one thing love's taught me, it's that kisses tell a million tales. What if I kissed you right now?.. would it bring us any closer or would we just part like the red sea, would our worlds as is hereafter speak of nothing but the good and our love grow to be as unexplainable as she.. what if I kissed you.. affections expressed in a moment where pet names linger across lips unrelenting. Eyes meet and faces draw together while our minds orbit elliptical periods around one another, deem it a solar system, stop the music like i stole ya rhythm &say we lost ourselves in the heat of our own passion, passing days by enveloped inside ourselves slow dancing to the beat of our hearts. Holding you close like I'd die letting you go, thinking, what if I kissed you right now... Could we make clocks stop till judgment day and be lovers in and out of time like Angelou stated, would be morph to the brink of combustion just being overwhelmed by each others touch, or would we just be? Never afraid of lions tigers and bears, but I cant help but fear becoming so sick, so sick of love sons turned penetrating enomolies like your kisses which obtained keepsake as a copious mannerism in my everyday agenda.. &writing this while you're asleep gives me all the comfort of a fourth wall closure, kissing your forehead as you lay on my shoulder thinking if only i'd done that while you were awake. but she&I were unceasing, so the kisses we'd share were even more memorable than Victoria's best kept secrets...

Copyright © William Smalls | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Pursuit Of Marital Chastity

Though many have lost the battle, can I go forward in a worthy pursuit?
For those who’s pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to an unhappy halt,
could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
Can I have my cake and eat it too? Can it be beautiful and forbidden too?

Am I listening to the sound of music never designed for winners?
Do I look with glee through glasses neither half full nor half empty?
Am I salivating over portraits created by mirages in the desert?

Are marriages endurable or even survivable?
The continuous grind of interpersonal conflicts;
The  verbal, emotional, and physical abuse;
And the devastating effects of  ‘an affair’;

The rights of life and liberty;
And the pursuit of happiness too;
true values, deeply rooted in the fiber of my being.
The purchase of certain liberties demands a hefty price.
I then consider the pleasure gained versus a life of pain.
So I pause to ponder the horrendous cost of broken vows.

But why do I not turn my eyes, and slowly walk away?
Why do I allow such noble dreams to become nightmares?

With two ears, I pursue chastity.
In one ear I hear a voice, saying,
“With just one secluded night of infidelity,
you could be infused with adventure and pleasure”.
That voice, so crystal clear, so pleasing and promising;
It’s the sound of charm and enchantment; a costly voice.

So I close the other ear that’s projecting a voice of caution and reason.
It says to me, “Please don’t because you would lose a lasting bond of trust”.

Is it just me, or do I see a dying breed of the trusted and the faithful?
Is it just me, or are we growing indifferent to the tried and the true?
I hear the noise of fun and games, but I hear the children crying too.
Is there anybody trying to be reliable, like the rising and setting sun? 04282015PSContest, A Sexy Surreal, Lewis Raynes

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Sticking Together

For better or for worst; For good or for bad.
In sickness or in health; In riches or poverty.

In good days and bad,
When he has made you sad.                                                         
When she drives you mad;
And nothing makes you glad.

To have and to hold,
In the heat and in the cold.
From when we are young until we grow old;
Never to fold no matter what we’ve been told.

When you think that speaking is a must.
When you bite your tongue to avoid a fuss.
When he is cold as ice;
And she is hot as fire.

When he is looking old;
And she is not.
When you have money to buy a lot;
Or when you must keep what you’ve got.

Committed to the beauty and the beast;
When it’s pretty or when it’s ugly.
When you are thin;
Or when you are fat

When you are as loud as a dog;
Or when you are as quiet as a cat. 
When your words are few because                                                            no one cares about your point of view.
And when your opinion is right,                                            
and you still must sit and stew.
When you speak up to be heard;
Or when you are quiet as a mouse.

When the home you dearly love
has turned into just another house.
When the house is cold inside, 
And it’s not just you.

When words like honey, sugar,                                                                and sweetie pie no longer seem due.
When you fight, have fits, and want to quit;
That’s about the time to get a clue 02022007 cj PS

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

What it is not to be married

As a young girl you fall in love,
Not once not twice but many times,
And then you find a man,
A man you think is the right one for you,
A man you think can keep you happy ,
The dream man you have always wished for,

The farther you are from him,
The more you love him,
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,
You want to be closer,
 Nearer the merrier is what u think,

Long hours of talking on phone,
Countless hours of romance,
Yes, through phone, again,
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,

You dream of marriage,
Dream of a life with him,
The few days you meet during vacation is all you know of him,
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,

Then comes the big day, wedding! 
It's all dreamy and fuzzy through the 3 days of wedding,
And finally here you are married and as a wife
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,

Cooking, eating together and going out becomes a routine,
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,

The first few days is when you get to know each other,
Their preferences , their choices,
You adjust, he adjusts , after all you think it's all a give and take,
Little do you realize that there is much more than just this,

Yes, we keep learning in life , from our mistakes and others,
In this game of marriage you do see different facets of yourself and him,
Anger,love,laughter,selfishness,care,giving,missing and more,
But this should all be tied with a feeling called 'mine'
The minute you think it's 'yours', you always understand things better ,
Never think it's him/ her, think that's yours!
Yours today, tomorrow and for ever!

 Marriage, as they say is NOT a bed of roses,
Marriage is not a fairy tale,
Not a fantasy world,
It's not cinema like,
It's not always romantic,
It's not always about you,
Marriage is about understanding,
Marriage is about thinking the other person is yours!
Feel it to live it!

Copyright © Ranj Madhavan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Last Rodeo

Yesterday outlaws were in view
so what happened of just me and you.

As we both know this is not our first
rodeo,We must learn to lean on each
other to grow.

We cant help they both let go ten yrs
ago,Not our fault our hearts never
traveld at the speed of light.

I know one yr ago the speed of 
light led my heart into your
hands out of the bad lands 
to grow old with the new,
So lets make this our last rodeo

Copyright © Cheryl McCall | Year Posted 2009

Details | Prose Poetry |

Forever You by WLM created on March 20, 2011

You are the one I want 
Forever and again
To brighten my day
In each and every way
You shine as bright as the sun
With the streaming rays which fall to the earth
And your smile is as beautiful
As the stars at night and the moon so bright
With you in my life
I will have not strife
Our lives will be so content
No matter where we have went
Our love together
Will last forever
You make the dark clouds go away
With each and every passing day
There are only a few
Whom are just as you
You are perfect in every way
And this is how you will always stay
I know you will be mine
For now and for all time
We will follow the line
Our lives together will be so fine
Our love will always be new 
For me and for you

Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Ninth Fable

 Ninth Fable 
Ninth Fable 
Tragic Love 
Internet Love 
The Love eye have for ewe is just the same as iff we wed. 
The feelings that she gives me are never filled with dread. 
But nothing she can dew would make me ever want to wind up dead but the 
living do the love they do the life time instead. Eye could walk the halls of memory 
and get depressed or eye could become a nun in convicted pleasure and rest in 
convent until death can dew us part death can give me rest but what of love. How 
can a man get so excited at a little green dot a few mouse clicks and then a cold 
white chat box. The ink is never wet upon mye crinkle paper yet there it is its love. 
When she smiles at me eye smile when she frowns eye weep a river of the 
stuffins kept inside it all comes flowing out to make a wrongful death seem 
somehow write the words upon the mended heart depart from worry and from 
woe and take the brand new start and soon it all works for love. Snow White she 
ate the apple and then fell to fast asleep but Charlax came to kiss her and 
awakened her to live. Prince Charlax kisses good. 
Live upon the creek bank fishing for dragonflies in a house of love. Mending heart 
of Charming. Making love in heart. Mye snow white turtle love my pookie 
pochoucntous love my internet thrall. We can have it all just hold on to my 
namme and love. 
Researchers have now proven that love can mend a broken heart. 

Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Year Gone By

Has it really been a year gone by
Watching the flame of
The single candle on your cake you try
I think back on the year gone by
From hearing it’s a girl
To holding you in my arms
I don’t know who’s grown more
You or I
I remember when your eyes first opened
Wondering what it was you saw
The first time you smiled
I was wrapped around your finger
A year gone by of late night feedings
When I laid you to your mother’s breast
The times you needed changed
The times you needed held
The times you simply slept
I remember them all through the blur
Of the year gone by
I remember when you first left your mother’s breast
When you first tried to touch you knew not what
The first time you giggled
Your shock when you first rolled over
How quickly you learned to crawl and explore
So many things you did I remember
But my fondest memory of the year gone by
Is how I’ve learned to give love
And set aside myself
For someone much more special than I
Has it really been a year gone by

NOTE*** This is from my CD A Father’s Love Letters
To listen to the CD please visit
As the lead single it comes with a music video viewable at

Copyright © Mike Hamill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

When All

When all is said and done
At the end of the day
Week, month and year
At the end
When the finish is near
Nay, at hand
One thing will hold true
When the last grain of sand
Has left the hour
And the seconds have ticked away
When the last word
Has been spoken
And there’s nothing left to say
One thing will hold true
Through whatever time
Life has left
Till heaven and earth pass away
And eternity rules
Bringing life a brand new day
One thing will hold true
It doesn’t matter where roads lead
Nor how paths may cross
Doesn’t matter if directions are found
Or ways are lost
Doesn’t matter if freedom comes
Or at what cost
One thing will hold true
For when all have fled
And there’s no more to be bled
All battles have been fought
All conquests sought
When all that’s left to do
Is look around to see
Who’s left standing with you
One thing will hold true
Standing there 
I will be 

Copyright © Mike Hamill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

That You Love Me Still

There is much to be said for mature love
Comfortable love, secure love.
Knowing with one look at your face; your mood.
The conversations we have with only our eyes.
Ah, yes, My Love, some may yearn for the chase, the newness,
But not I.
I long only for your arms; to hear your heartbeat under my ear.
There is no shyness between us, no secrets.
You know my hearts greatest fears and hopes and I yours.
I know the real you, the one I love.
And you love me even with all my quirks and demands.
And that is what amazes me,
That you love me still.

Copyright © Peggy Montgomery | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Beauty Is In the Eye of the Beholder

Oh, was it really possible that we’d ever pen, or 
is it necessary to debate our in-sensitivities, 
the ups and downs of life, being sandwiched between
our likes and dislikes of a certain form in writing?

To a degree, of versifying, we have the so-called 
“To each his own” ability
and power to attract the readers of the mind,
to fully enjoy us, in our chosen form. 

Some would profess they dislike haiku
...’cos of its shortness and simplicity
and most likely, many would prefer free verse,
than to listen to the enchanted soul of rhyme

...’Cos of its un-metered style and absolute freedom;  
yet I, the handsome I (ahem!) do love, not prefer 
the beholder of my beauty, my beautiful wife (ahem!)---
a thousand times over, and greater than those few.

Ahh, the exquisite beauty of poetry, 
the subtle meaning half hidden 
in ones’ lines, and totally not seen in its form
but most certainly, lies in the eye of the reader.

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Prose Poetry |

Remember When

Remember When
Remember when I was twenty
and you were only twenty-four?
Remember how you looked at me
and how my eyes rested on yours?
Remember the eyelash on your fingertip
and how you blew it away?
Remember my prayer, my wish
and what I wanted you to say?
Remember the pounding of our hearts
as love embraced our very souls?
You and I
Have known each other from long ago
Before there was life
Before there was breath.

Copyright © Natala Orobello | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |


I have no friend dear diary
You remain my only companion
Tales of my tragedy, you carefully conceal
A most loyal comrade, heed these words
 My great book, tis me and my teary voice
He was my Anthony and I his Cleopatra
Our love smoked higher above Apollo and Aphrodite’s
We were twined together
Like seaweeds, hidden among rocks ashore
Now our combat is nonstop
And only my mirror sees my bruises 
My chamber remains my foursquare
Tending my wounds till my skin regains its lustre
The only unhealing wound? My heart of hearts
I cling to that thin thread of hope beating myself with guilt
Thinking he will return should I become a better person
That person I brought to life just to face disappointment
He charged fiercer
Battered me from dusk to dawn
And “sexed” away my pain 
For that brief moment my shell is cracked
I remain broken; I see shame
In my quest to fight back
I’m met by the fiery in his eyes
Knocking me down each time
With pride aside I’ve found my voice
If thee find yourself in another’s clutches
Carry on this message
I’m tired, I’m simply exhausted 
And in need of help…

©Naa Takia, All rights Reserved 2012



Copyright © Victoria Nunoo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

10 reasons

Let me count to ways I love you
1,  The awesome beauty of your sweet voice when you speak
2.   The fact that you are so beautiful to mine eyes
3.   That you accept me for all of my faults and medical problems
4.   That our lives together will be content, happy, and wonderful
5.   The beauty of your eyes and the smile upon your face
6.   Your luscious lips which I kiss as often as possible
7.   The fact that we will always be as one entity
8.   That we can lie in bed and talk for hours on end
9.    That when we make love, it is always as if the first time each time
10.  That I can change for my sweetheart and wife when needed 

Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

My Inner Strength

I feel my inner strength,helped me to achieve 
what I have achieved today.
I had very hard life and struggled everyday for survival,
 But my inner strength always supported me,
 and helped me to overcome those struggles.
Then my husband become ill and
 There was no family or friend
 I could ask for help, and I was all alone.
My inner strength gave me the company to cope 
I went many offices and hospitals with my ill husband 
to get the. things sort out for operation in a foreign land
 and the operation was successful and he became well.
Then come the struggle to cope with a foreign land
 Again all alone,without any friends or family
 I worked hard and coped well with my inner strength
 I feel my inner strength helped me to have a good life
 with all my struggles and cope with it fantastically.
If anyone wanted to know who is my best friend
 I do not have any doubt to tell you that my inner strength
 my best friend. I can sit and talk to my inner strength 
and it gives me all the answers to my question
 and I am sure it does not leave me alone
 and stay with me as a companion in my life.
 We enjoy the happy and sad moments together.

Adikaran 14/10/12.

Copyright © Dolly Bhaskaran | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Let's Make A Deal

Let’s Make A Deal

Wife said to husband, “Stop for directions, and I promise not to shop for new shoes”.

Whether your team wins or loses, you’ll pay for chips, dips, and carpet cleaning.

I said to a friend, “Have a nice day”; he replied saying, “You can’t tell me what to do”.

Kidding I guess, when daddy said, “I’m going West, where the eagle builds his nest”

Over a 40 year period, I 've earned 7 or 8 traffic citations; my wife has absolutely 0.

12102015 (One Liner 6,7,8,9,10 Contest)

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Forgotten Love Found

Forgotten Love Found
March 31, 2011

I thought she was lost
I did not know at what cost
She did not want me
So she let me be free
But now I have no more fear
For now she has returned here
Do I really know to see?
That she really does need and want me
For now I will think and just sit
This is her chance to prove it
I will truly be very strong
And she must show me that I was wrong
Should I let go of the slack
She must show me she wants me back
Will she really come and show 
If so my heart will have such a glow
As the sun is so hot and bright in the sky
I will lose all my fears and know why
I want to hold her so bad
And by doing so I will never again be sad
All my love I will give to her now
The amount she will never know how
We will make love for the first time
It will be so exciting and so extremely fine
I hope she will want me forever
If to be we will always be together
We will have to be till the end
This is the best time we can begin

Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011