Wailing for her demon lover, Coleridge had it right
A masterful poet, his words are ominous, not light.
Did he have his own sweet love? Was she a secret too?
Gothic ideas of mystery swirl around my brain in blue.
Coleridge was a master; his work keeps me on the edge.
His imagery on the brink of pushing me just shy of off the ledge.
Is she a figment of Coleridge’s imagination, or does his own maiden exist?
If she is a married woman, will they never find a bliss or share a kiss?
A secret Coleridge has kept, in a dark, dank, dour place.
His poetry so wonderful, I smile when I see a likeness of his face.
Samuel T. Coleridge, a master whose poetry delights my dendrite stream.
Sometimes his powerful stanzas float into my Gothic current dream.
there was a daring young rake named Kent
who spent much time with a married woman from Trent
till it was said
they were caught in her bed
and the husband in his head put a dent
there was a daring young rake named Kent
who spent much time with a married woman from Trent
till it was said
they were caught in her bed
and the husband in his head put a dent
I love you abundantly,
So many things made me to make you my first love, Oh ! dear Jeanette Mwenembuka Yohali Warally.
At 18 years old age you were married , conceived and did not abort me,
You accepted the labour pains to see me alive,
As a young married woman , you experienced so many strange things , sleepless night, my noise in your ears days and nights,
You tolerated my misbehaviours from early age to make me your best first born son,
You were my first best teacher before I met some school teachers and university professors,
Some religeous , traditional and political leaders ...
"Oh! my heroine."
You were the first person to hug and kiss me privately and publicly...
"Oh, my dearly Mum."
No human being on this earth will steal my heart like you did ...
"O' beautiful , loyal and wise Mum."
No one will see my beauty and take care for me more than you...
"Oh! Wonderful servant of Christ Jesus."
You will always be my number one until the day you will go to rest.
You deserve my first love forever and ever
March 07 / 2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by Regina Mclntosh
From many houses, pots, tubs
I'm begging my words
the alms of poems
I'm begging from-
the stars
sun to moon
star-spangled ship to the space, cosmos
the drop of the snow
the morn breeze of the autumn
smiling spring rose
the flying chirping birds
swimming pond fish
the shyness of new married woman
cats and dogs raining
matting snake or the quarrelsome butterfly and bee
a falling leaf on the calm water of pool and its ripple,
a puddle, urban smog
known-unknown inspiration or meditation
I'm begging my words
the alms of poems
silently, lovingly, timely
-Wednesday, July 31, 2019 Chattogram
My days as a married woman with children,
My husband Walter and i had a cottage at North Bay.
This was an A-frame cottage,
Beautiful near the lake.
Our sons Kirk and Erik liked playing on the shore,
We would go swimming in the water.
Then father Walter would take us in a row boat,
A cruise on the lake would guest.
I would cook the delicious food,
Father would gather firewood for the wood burning stove.
We would play games with the children in the living-room,
Like gin rummy and monopoly.
The cottage had an upper level and a lower level,
Decorated with care and love, very simple.
Very scenic and beautiful with tall birch trees.
The cottage had a picnic table on the deck where you could have lunch.
There was a fair portion of property with the cottage,
Seldom scenic and beautiful, what an awesome place.
Would take us about two hours to get there,
Walter would drive us to the North Bay cottage.
What good memories we have of this,
I am thankful to God for all these blessings.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
In these Days, We Prayed
April 12, 2013
ÉGHÉ (Time)
?
WÉGHÉ'
With time
The barren becomes pregnant
With time
The pregnant woman becomes a mother
With time
the mother becomes a daughter
With time
The married woman becomes a widow
With time
The childless widow becomes an object
Of obscurity and weak pity.
With time
An hero's deeds are told as stories
While great events become myths
And Once-Upon-A-Time.
For with time
Mountains metamorphose to sand
Rivers turn farmland
And Hills reduce to slime.
And time
frowns nor smiles on nothing
neither does he give nor take anything
for only a fool boast with a dime.
Oh time
you are too slow but yet so fast
For our tomorrow becomes yesterday
Like the uncertain colouration of a lime.
Man is a slave to time
As all men will answer to the call of time.
For the authority he exacts is divine
Nothing happens without the
Consent of time.
The past is Time
The present is Time
The future is Time
And Éghé himself is
Time..
?
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
You are the tiger lily,
of my idle mind.
I dream of your unhappiness,
so that one day
you'd be mine.
I was never known to be flamboyant
more arcane from being quite quiet.
My best asset in business matters
was my intercessor abilities with
investigating those problems which
arise between the rights and wrongs.
My life has been bittersweet in many
ambivalent and quintessence ways.
The immolation of another to save
one's self is absolutely wrong. It is
like being with a married woman so
luscious in her sensual sexualities
and getting caught up in a less then
cerebral moment.
Those people who like to be very touchy
feely in a friendly way are looked upon as tactile.
What happens to their mindset when suddenly
they are befallen by a quiescent problem that
takes there ardent mobility away!
No one knows
Why you cry makoti
Death is beautiful
Lady barnard's ghost
Cooks a storm for the dead
Makoti:a young married woman
Lady barnard:a legendary ghost from colonial times south africa
I wanted to seduce a married woman a long time ago, I was consumed by lust.
I was a teenager at the time and my terrible sin filled Jehovah God with disgust.
I never seduced the woman, I didn't even try.
But if I said I didn't consider it, it would be a lie.
Every time that I saw that married lady, I felt Lust.
At the time, I was a person who God couldn't trust.
You may not understand why I'm confessing this, you may not understand at all.
I'm confessing my sin to show you how terrible lust is so that you can avoid the same pitfall.
I known feeling this is not the good thing
The thing is I just feel like turning back the clock
I feel like the time has come to stop living in the shadows
I am not inlove with my husband
This was really my mistake
He’s money consumed me
I wanted to live the dream I always fantasied
But now that I face reality all is hard
I miss my former lover his words keep ringing
Now that I am married to this soul
In my dreams I dream of my once lover
We are in a very beautiful place
A place where him and I rule
If I really waited on him maybe this would have been reality
But now all I can do is dream of us
I pretend that I’m making love with him
How will I be able to get out of this?
Please forgive me and take me back
I long to be in your arms
I miss your stories, jokes and worse you.
In a world obsessed with sex
when it ends in misery
like it often does
What can they expect.
Call me old fashioned
but don't morals care and feelings matter any more
or is it just one foot in the bedroom
and one foot out of the door.
For me
I need more.
I need love
to feel loved
to give love
to make love.
Making love doesn't have to start
or finish in a bedroom
but anywhere
soft caring words an embrace a stroke of her hair
showing . some one how much you care.
Being alone
Sometimes I yearn just to hold someone
feel the warmth of her body
and kiss
that's something I really miss.
wrapped up in each others arms
by a warm log fire
on a cold winters day.
Watching a movie together
and listening to what each others has to say.
Giving caring sharing
and maybe something more daring.
Someone you can implicitly trust
faithful to quench your lust
a must.
Getting in bed is much sweeter
when you love your señorita
and just not for kicks.
Just as God planned
the love between a married woman
and married man.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014. Jan.
Another man's wife
Why would you want to take a wife of another?
Destroy the world that they built and share together
Whilst there is plenty of fish in the sea
What would have possessed you Son?
Explain to me i need to understand
Stealing from a man's hand
A treasure so protected.
A dream he never wants to share with anyone
Consciously taking away his pride
Ripping him apart from his joy
The love of his life
Son! Make me understand because I don’t understand
How you find the strength to convince another's better part to be yours is a mystery to me.
Explain! Because this is a riddle
I wish to understand
What would have possessed you?
Sit down son,
Let’s have a talk
Let’s share your hidden thoughts
Make me understand
Please do
I want to know what drives you to the bed of married woman
What spirit would have possessed you? You call that love?
ls it love or a game of lust, filled with privileges and no responsibilities.
Son! This game always ends with a knife at your throat
Stay away
Written by Tawona Mzila Ranganawa
I have never fooled around with a married woman in my life,
and nobody knows that better than my own wife.
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