My Lovely Wife
My lovely wife loves to cook
But she depends on her
favorite book
That has all her favorite dishes
Which I would like to have
as one of my wishes
She loves to cut vegetables
And spread all the
delicious eatables
Nice and groovy on the table
And the tasty syrup from
the maple
She loves to wear the colorful sari
And put on her makeup and
bindi
She loves to comb her long hair
As we look lovely as a pair
She likes
to go for fruit picking
On the rural towns bike riding
Or walking on the
trails trekking
But sometimes taking the car by driving
The kids love to
join her for fun
And carry all their bread and bun
We make sure that we
have an early brunch
As it is too early to have our lunch
On weekends she
loves to bond
Even though she is not legally blonde
She carries her little
pup in her favorite bag
As I hate her if she dress up like a drag
I
will praise my lovely wife
Whom I would give my life
She is nothing but
my better half
As I make sure she does not cut me into half!!!
Here is
my poetic gift on your day
Wish you a happy wonderful day
And best wishes
on your birthday!
Dear honey
But you are interested only when I mint more
money
Please make sure that you have a wonderful cake
Don’t worry if it
takes too long to bake!
We can sit by the nearby Simcoe Lake!
As long as
it takes!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of
the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is
published online, please include a link to this post.
Weekend Trip - By Chulliyil
Weekend Trip
Fenlon falls or Sauble Falls!
Make sure you never have a fall
As you go and have a ball!
You also can visit the nearby mall!
Take a pick
Let us go out and have a kick
Let us make this weekend trip full of fun
As trips are meant to have lots of fun
Don’t make the trips too painful
That you have to run and look stressful
It is close to fall season
Make sure you have good reason
And more playtime with the kids
Will not bore you to bits
Enjoy the trips with family and friends
As they always say…
you will never get these days back….my Friend!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Fenlon falls or Sauble Falls!
Make sure you never have a fall
As you go and have a ball!
You also can visit the nearby mall!
Take a pick
Let us go out and have a kick
Let us make this weekend trip full of fun
As trips are meant to have lots of fun
Don’t make the trips too painful
That you have to run and look stressful
It is close to fall season
Make sure you have good reason
And more playtime with the kids
Will not bore you to bits
Enjoy the trips with family and friends
As they always say…
you will never get these days back….my Friend!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
THE UNKNOWN HEART - By Sylviah Salima
THE UNKNOWN HEART
I know a heart, I know a soul,
dear to my heart but at distance she is;
Like the rays she brightens,
like the cloud she darkens,
Like a lion she can pounce,
like a deer she looks calm,
I know a heart I know a soul
that blows my mind like a time bomb;
Though, she can love,
though she can hate,
at the end she hides it all,
I know a heart that is like the cold winds.
- Written by: Sylviah Salima
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit. If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
I know a heart, I know a soul,
dear to my heart but at distance she is;
Like the rays she brightens,
like the cloud she darkens,
Like a lion she can pounce,
like a deer she looks calm,
I know a heart I know a soul
that blows my mind like a time bomb;
Though, she can love,
though she can hate,
at the end she hides it all,
I know a heart that is like the cold winds.
- Written by: Sylviah Salima
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit. If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Cup Half Empty - By Scott Mitchell
Cup Half Empty
Feeling your presence, yet craving you near
Whispering to the moon, as if my lips on your ear
Irrational I’ve become, you have control of every part
No room for thoughts of other things,
you stole my mind, soul, and heart
Woman, reduce the incantation and stop eating me alive
A distance filled with emptiness, too far to hear my cries
To eat, rest, and work, all things of the past
Have mercy and fill this hungry void,
my heart is beating too fast
Dark beautiful eyes, touching the depths of my desire
I fell into some trap, as passion jolted trip wires
Unhinged I’ve become, from you I’ll never escape
But remove the bonds from my wrists,
cut through all of the tape
Distance my only adversary, even one inch is too far
I can’t rest until you’re near, my sky has only one star
Not much longer can I survive, this distance we keep
Always too many tomorrows,
next to you I should sleep.
- Written by: Scott Mitchell
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Feeling your presence, yet craving you near
Whispering to the moon, as if my lips on your ear
Irrational I’ve become, you have control of every part
No room for thoughts of other things,
you stole my mind, soul, and heart
Woman, reduce the incantation and stop eating me alive
A distance filled with emptiness, too far to hear my cries
To eat, rest, and work, all things of the past
Have mercy and fill this hungry void,
my heart is beating too fast
Dark beautiful eyes, touching the depths of my desire
I fell into some trap, as passion jolted trip wires
Unhinged I’ve become, from you I’ll never escape
But remove the bonds from my wrists,
cut through all of the tape
Distance my only adversary, even one inch is too far
I can’t rest until you’re near, my sky has only one star
Not much longer can I survive, this distance we keep
Always too many tomorrows,
next to you I should sleep.
- Written by: Scott Mitchell
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Nagging Nicole - By Chulliyil
Nagging Nicole
Nicole’s mom and dad are coming!
They will make sure she gets everything
The kids may get something
While I will get nothing!
Dad will sing tingle tingle ….
Nicole will jump and ready to jingle
Mom will be happy and ready to mingle
I will be out and again made single
I hope dad does not fall ill
As I am not sure what to do till……..
he is hale and healthy
And he is definitely very wealthy!
But he is always grumpy
I hope he is at least happy!
Dad and Nicole loves to watch TV
While I get abused by my biwi,
Mom will be busy making her usual snack,
While I have to watch always my back,
Nicole likes to give her usual nagging,
I don’t know how to keep her engaging
The kids always here her yelling
All we hear is the kids screaming
American idol is her favorite past time
And putting make up in her free time!
Her dad drinks and has a beer belly
She thinks my comments are very silly
She loves to nag and pick my every bone
But she looks hot like Sharon Stone
She pretends to look very simple
As she has face with cute dimple
I wish she could stop her nagging
As this will keep our relationship going!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Nicole’s mom and dad are coming!
They will make sure she gets everything
The kids may get something
While I will get nothing!
Dad will sing tingle tingle ….
Nicole will jump and ready to jingle
Mom will be happy and ready to mingle
I will be out and again made single
I hope dad does not fall ill
As I am not sure what to do till……..
he is hale and healthy
And he is definitely very wealthy!
But he is always grumpy
I hope he is at least happy!
Dad and Nicole loves to watch TV
While I get abused by my biwi,
Mom will be busy making her usual snack,
While I have to watch always my back,
Nicole likes to give her usual nagging,
I don’t know how to keep her engaging
The kids always here her yelling
All we hear is the kids screaming
American idol is her favorite past time
And putting make up in her free time!
Her dad drinks and has a beer belly
She thinks my comments are very silly
She loves to nag and pick my every bone
But she looks hot like Sharon Stone
She pretends to look very simple
As she has face with cute dimple
I wish she could stop her nagging
As this will keep our relationship going!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Home Sweet Home - By Chulliyil
Home Sweet Home
I miss my home …I miss my home
What can I do…so far away from home
Not easy to preach
Neither easy to reach
I miss my home!
Far away in my adopted land
As I stand alone on the sand
By the beaches of Wasagha …
Or living in town of Mississauga
The fleeting thoughts of my home
Does make me home sick
If I get to pick,
I wish I could do a trick,
To be in the confines of my sweet home
In the beautiful city of Bengaluru
Which I love to call Namooru!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
I miss my home …I miss my home
What can I do…so far away from home
Not easy to preach
Neither easy to reach
I miss my home!
Far away in my adopted land
As I stand alone on the sand
By the beaches of Wasagha …
Or living in town of Mississauga
The fleeting thoughts of my home
Does make me home sick
If I get to pick,
I wish I could do a trick,
To be in the confines of my sweet home
In the beautiful city of Bengaluru
Which I love to call Namooru!
- Written by: Chulliyil
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
Impoverished... - By xtasy
Impoverished...
Tale of a Slum-Dweller
Hey,stop staring at me like a suspicious tiffin
u havent witnessed how these lips viciously stiffen,
enraged n wicked,poverty-weakened n grief stricken
i know the next morn ,they gon' demolish these slums
wat u inspectin?aint no secret to decipher,All these goods' Giffen
Term us 'social-pests' coz we lie,cheat,steal n still wail-mad?
Truth is ,even we jail-dread
i wont steal again even if i got a stale bread
Evil society rightly makes us trail-bad
so my brothers committin suicide even b'for they gray hair...
look there,u see some figures trembling in daze?
those bony faces,coughin kids shabbily raised?
On the floor-bed,eyes' gone red,feverish foreheads
breathe needs snorkel,shambling till base
thats my job,i got a family to raise...
a son,a father,a husband see i got lot of roles to play
How can i cope up with a life like a pot of holes wid no clay?
u feel their situation aint botherin me?
No!i got no tears coz i got no water in me
The mercy-monger in me prays their lives cut shorter indeed.
Is it worth being human,i curse from within
In this social building,we are mere precincts
Being treated so harsh by the same species..
I better be an animal,get slain, sell off my flesh..
Treat their miseries n send my kids off to a creche...
- Written by: xtasy
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
xpnr.blogspot.com
Tale of a Slum-Dweller
Hey,stop staring at me like a suspicious tiffin
u havent witnessed how these lips viciously stiffen,
enraged n wicked,poverty-weakened n grief stricken
i know the next morn ,they gon' demolish these slums
wat u inspectin?aint no secret to decipher,All these goods' Giffen
Term us 'social-pests' coz we lie,cheat,steal n still wail-mad?
Truth is ,even we jail-dread
i wont steal again even if i got a stale bread
Evil society rightly makes us trail-bad
so my brothers committin suicide even b'for they gray hair...
look there,u see some figures trembling in daze?
those bony faces,coughin kids shabbily raised?
On the floor-bed,eyes' gone red,feverish foreheads
breathe needs snorkel,shambling till base
thats my job,i got a family to raise...
a son,a father,a husband see i got lot of roles to play
How can i cope up with a life like a pot of holes wid no clay?
u feel their situation aint botherin me?
No!i got no tears coz i got no water in me
The mercy-monger in me prays their lives cut shorter indeed.
Is it worth being human,i curse from within
In this social building,we are mere precincts
Being treated so harsh by the same species..
I better be an animal,get slain, sell off my flesh..
Treat their miseries n send my kids off to a creche...
- Written by: xtasy
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
xpnr.blogspot.com
Powerless - By Lee Woodward
Powerless
There it is,
That backwards flash of retrospective bliss
that allows you an insight into what went wrong,
When you started to care about her,
Noticed the way her hair rested on her forehead:
Chaotic and beautiful,
Like the poetry you dream of writing but seldom achieve.
She is the ideal,
And yet unattainable,
Her smile, a row of teeth that claim your heart
in sequence with every word they allow to pass.
But when will it stop?
When will your hand pass over the keyboard
without a sound that speaks of her?
When will the taps fade into absence, from her,
and those eyes that beg to be adored
simply because there is nothing in the world
as worthy of adoration -- when?
Will it be easy to disconnect and drive away thoughts of her,
with her dainty feet and earnest smile,
When she no longer features in your weekly routine?
Can you imagine not seeing her again?
No.
She is the coffee you must not drink,
Because you know that she will awaken you
to a happiness you are not permitted,
Simply because you met her later than somebody else,
who is good and equally worthy.
But how your eyes look into hers with hope,
And how her gaze returns with such glorious promise,
Still astounds you.
You have never wanted to dance as much as when sat beside her,
Because your feet never felt as connected to your mind
as when trapped in her infinite gaze.
Understanding is an island that sits on the horizon,
Taunting you with it's proximity while you silently muse.
"Does she see me here as I watch, mesmerized by her existence?
Does she understand that the hope she has promoted
for requirement is overshadowed by the fear of her departure?"
Is this the pain and glory of which the everyday voices
consistently dream when attempting to convey love?
If it is, then I fear for those that ask such questions,
As I know of no answers for such passion,
And neither do the gentle hands of time.
- Written by: Lee Woodward
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
There it is,
That backwards flash of retrospective bliss
that allows you an insight into what went wrong,
When you started to care about her,
Noticed the way her hair rested on her forehead:
Chaotic and beautiful,
Like the poetry you dream of writing but seldom achieve.
She is the ideal,
And yet unattainable,
Her smile, a row of teeth that claim your heart
in sequence with every word they allow to pass.
But when will it stop?
When will your hand pass over the keyboard
without a sound that speaks of her?
When will the taps fade into absence, from her,
and those eyes that beg to be adored
simply because there is nothing in the world
as worthy of adoration -- when?
Will it be easy to disconnect and drive away thoughts of her,
with her dainty feet and earnest smile,
When she no longer features in your weekly routine?
Can you imagine not seeing her again?
No.
She is the coffee you must not drink,
Because you know that she will awaken you
to a happiness you are not permitted,
Simply because you met her later than somebody else,
who is good and equally worthy.
But how your eyes look into hers with hope,
And how her gaze returns with such glorious promise,
Still astounds you.
You have never wanted to dance as much as when sat beside her,
Because your feet never felt as connected to your mind
as when trapped in her infinite gaze.
Understanding is an island that sits on the horizon,
Taunting you with it's proximity while you silently muse.
"Does she see me here as I watch, mesmerized by her existence?
Does she understand that the hope she has promoted
for requirement is overshadowed by the fear of her departure?"
Is this the pain and glory of which the everyday voices
consistently dream when attempting to convey love?
If it is, then I fear for those that ask such questions,
As I know of no answers for such passion,
And neither do the gentle hands of time.
- Written by: Lee Woodward
This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.
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