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Don’t put your marriage on hold while you’re raising your kids, or else you’ll end up with an empty nest and an empty marriage.

Dave Willis in The Seven Laws of Love: Essential Principles for Building Stronger Relationships
Added by Micheleflowerbomb
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Hold Your Position (Stones)

Now here comes the great musical thing called "hold your position"
Rasta, them style ya a just levelment Uncle seen
Hold me position, Just a hold me position
I ya, hold me position, just a hold me position
Go on, hold me position, just a hold me position
Just like Jesus Christ in the valley of decision
Devil come along and tru to deceive man through him
Got him plan from the older one
Him had to hold him position, had to hold him position yeh
Hold him position, had to hold him position
Well rhythm like this makes me and me daughter
Go down at the dance, bubble on the corner
When the rhythm is sweet, we a go hold tighter
Rub-adub like this makes you go one
So you hold your position
Say you hold you position aya
Hold your position, say hold your position
Things and time was a getting slow let off the rhythm
Let the good time roll
Don't bother go a slow and stay a back row
I man come to make the rhythm
Just a rock and flow, because me hold me position
Just a hold me position
Special request to 39 Acker Tree, Frontline, everyman on Kime
UB40 say come and rhyme
Yes, Daddy Stone, me in the dance hall style
So we really come to make it versatile
Because one of a kind we come to blow your mind
So you should hold you position
Yes, hold your position, aya
Hold your position, hold your position
Hold Your Position (cont'd) Stones
Skank steady, Skank Steady
I tell you rock the rhythm
You should skank down steady
You know you say, it heavier than lead
Kinda tougher than tough
You know that Jah, Jah covers
Since he stands over us
So hold your position
Hold your position
Move to the east, and you could a move to the west
Lyrics like this Jab know never go jest
Say chunk ice water say right to your chest
Intercity, outer city everywhere the best you better
Hold you position, just hold your position
Hold you position, say hold your position
Well rhythm like this is really so hot
Let off the vilse because a legal shot
Because we hold our position

[...] Read more

song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

THE ARGUMENT

RINTRAH roars and shakes his
fires in the burdenM air,
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path

The just man kept his course along

The Vale of Death.

Roses are planted where thorns grow,

And on the barren heath

Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted,
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;

5

THE MARRIAGE OF

And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth:
Till the villain left the paths of ease
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility ;

And the just man rages in the wilds
Where Uons roam.

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in

the burdened air,
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

As a new heaven is begun, and it is
now thirty-three years since its advent,
the Eternal Hell revives. And lo!
Swedenborg is the angel sitting at
the tomb: his writings are the Unen

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake
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The word “Divorce” never exists

Divorce … Divorce…
Think that there is such thing never exist

-o-

Look at the girl twice before you choose
Think twice before you put the marriage ring
Once Marriage is done, it is forever.

Marriage is between two hearts,
If you marry for anything else,
There is no guarantee that it will stand

Marry for money, money can be lost
Marry for beauty, beauty can be lost
Marry for health, health can be lost
Marry for love, love can’t be lost
Look at the eyes and feel the heart
Love is there for you always

-o-

Marriage doesn’t mean, it stands for ever
Marriage is planting the love seed
Plant the love seed, deep enough in heart
Manure with smiles and pore more love

Marriage doesn’t mean, it stands for ever
Trust each other more than self
Stand for each more than self
Keep the self out and live for spouse

Marriage is place to work together
Work heard to keep it fruitful
Pray heard to keep it safe
Love heard to make it more romantic

Spouse and Kids are God’s gifts
God entrusted us to take care of them,
The way he is taking care of us.

-o-
Divorce is the evil
It killed the souls and hearts
Divorce … Divorce …
Don’t think of it.
There is nobody who gained out of it

Divorce … Divorce…
Think that there is such thing never exist

[...] Read more

poem by Bhavani Polimetla
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The Kids

Written by jay kay and toby smith
Now were getting nasty
Everybody is talking about the kids
The kids have funky soul and groove emotion
But if you dont give the kids the chance to use it
Theyre always more than likely to abuse it
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Everybodys talking about the kids
And its taking time for you to realise
Now hunger turns to anger in your eyes
I say the revolution will be televised, yes it will gil...
Everybodys talking about the kids
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure.
Kids get down underground, evrybody dance to the funky sound.
Everybodys talking about the kids
The kids need space to get their heads in place
And every day this world we have to face
Well I just cant seem to find my proper place
Kids get down, celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate
Everybodys talking about the kids
It wont be long before we get our own
And every kid can truly feel at home
I told ya you should give the dog a bone.
Kids get down, pressurized, to live the life that you devised
Kids get down, celebrate, life is to short to complicate
Everybodys talking about school
But I get more pleasure breaking all the rules
Cos lesson one begins with life is cruel
Well I guess Im just an educated fool
Everybodys talking about the kids
Mom and dad make efforts to excuse it
Government officials will confuse it
Members of the bench will try to prove it
Youre going down sucker!
Everybodys talking about the kids now
Everybodys talking about the kids now
The kids got funky soul
Everybodys talking about high
But kids get high to satisfy
For reaching out to touch the sky
Is all I can identify, and you know why...
Kids get down, stormy weather, fifteen years of royal pleasure
Kids get down celebrate, now were gonna kick the thing we hate.

song performed by Jamiroquai
Added by Lucian Velea
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After Marriage

Before marriage she used to keep me handsomely like a
king on her lids; dancing them every now and again to
rejuvenate my overwhelmingly harried senses,
While after marriage she hardly opened her eyes; kept
sleeping like an untamed monster all day; despite the
most passionate of my appeals.

Before marriage she harbored me like the most prized
ring on her finger; scrubbing it umpteenth number of
times with the ointment of her sensuous love,
While after marriage she locked her ornament in her
dilapidated rusty safe; leaving me in the realms of
obsolete oblivion to contend with the dust and demons.

Before marriage she possessed me like a cherished rose
in vase of her heart; harnessing me with the crimson
blood that flowed profusely through her veins,
While after marriage she ruthlessly ripped me apart;
left me to decay with the stinking pile of garbage and
the sweeper blowing me in nonchalant disdain; with the
bristles of his threadbare broomstick.

Before marriage she chanted my name infinite times in
a single minute; refraining to commence any activity
without its irrefutably sacred presence on her lips,
While after marriage she stared like a complete
stranger into my innocuous eyes; austerely asking who
I indeed was with an unheard abuse.

Before marriage she offered me a place to sit; even if
that meant that she stood for mind-boggling hours on
the trot,
While after marriage she sat on top of me with her
battalion of fat friends; started to thunderously
laugh without the slightest of gasp or respite.

Before marriage she remained starved till the time I
didn’t eat; famishing her dainty persona to
unprecedented limits till the moment I fed her the
first morsel of food with my very own fingers,
While after marriage she finished breakfast; lunch;
dinner at a single shot; made me run for my life
before she decided to set her gigantic intentions on
my robust skin.

Before marriage she hummed mesmerizing tunes in my ear
before I went off to sleep; blessing my dreary
countenance with divinely reinvigoration and celestial
peace,
While after marriage she woke me the very next instant

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself, by Night.

'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit,
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,
While those who sillily pursue,
The simple, downright way, and true,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won
Than by CALIGULA the Moon,
Cry out upon the stars, for doing
Ill offices to cross their wooing;
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred;
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room?
But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place

No sooner was the bloody fight,
Between the Wizard, and the Knight,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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At the Altar

Now to take away your life –
Devour your soul afresh upon
The birth of every dawning day
– The spawn of sun and earth –
As of the way Prometheus lost hepatic flesh –
He stole fire! You stole gropes
And f*cks of me; so suffer thee!

Oh yes, perspire! Drizzle down the beads
Upon that crimson, blotchy skin –
I see the once cocksure pose, my man,
Is wearing terribly thin.

Indeed, an absence of repose
Discloses thumping in your chest –
Irregularly rhythmic – like the humping
(When you thought I was a body to molest) .

No more! my little man, for I shall wrest
The living essence from your
Paling, quivering form! –

You’ve had your gentle calm
Before the rumblings of the storm!

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)

I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Unmarried

Unmarried; when we kissed; we felt the waves of untamed passion rise to the ultimate crescendo of fulfillment; whilst when after Marriage; we felt it to be just routinely boring ritual to be inevitably done; just to spuriously appease each other,

Unmarried; when we listened to each other; our eyes interlocked for hours immemorial as we became oblivious to every other sound in the atmosphere; whilst after Marriage; the words seemed to irately pound like a billion unwashed boulders; upon the extremely tempestuous chords of our eardrums,

Unmarried; when we philandered together; we almost seemed to unanimously admire and appreciate each natural creation of the Lord Almighty; whilst after Marriage; we sat taut and haughty in stony silence; even as the most majestically virile sceneries and greeneries passed by,

Unmarried; when we confronted any problem; both of us earnestly put in our the last droplet of our sweat to emerge unitedly victorious; whilst when after Marriage; each of us left it wholesomely on the other to get out of the inexplicable disaster,

Unmarried; when we sipped wine; we cheered a toast umpteenth number of times in the sensuous wilderness of the night; whilst after Marriage; each of us chimed our glasses just once for the sake of the sanctimonious society; and that too with profound abhorrence lingering in our eyes; and time and again casting sneering glances at the bottle price,

Unmarried; when we slept; we were aware and fondly traced even the tiniest creak of our bodies with our uninhibitedly wandering fingers; whilst after marriage we indifferently slept poles apart; thunderously snoring till eternity; even as either one of us was being crucified by the swords of diabolical hell,

Unmarried; when we sat to eat supper; each one of us altruistically waited for marathon moments before the other devoured to his/her hearts content; whilst after marriage both of us made a barbarous beeline for the singleton dish; at times ending with raw gashes of unsavory blood; on our profusely scratched hands and face,

Unmarried; when we wrote each others names; we felt the most pricelessly blessed organisms alive perpetually possessing each other in our hearts; whilst after marriage we never disclosed it to anyone that we even had a lifepartner; specially if it was someone of the opposite sex,

Unmarried; when we swam in the choppy ocean; even the most infinitesimal vein of our body was so perennially entwined that it was impossible to separate us even in the fiercest of storm; whilst after marriage we deliberately used each others heads as a lifeboat; drowning the other in our attempt to stay triumphantly afloat and selfishly alive,

Unmarried; when we awoke; the very first thing that we did in the morning was to bow down to each other’s feet as we found our ultimate liberator in each of ourself; whilst after marriage we strangulated each other’s senses for uncannily waking up early in the morning; and hideously disrupting the heavenliness of bountiful sleep,

Unmarried; when we were wounded; we compassionately ran every contour of our fervent lips to those parts which hurt till there was not the tiniest of pain; whilst after marriage all that we could hedonistically muster; was indigenous salt to apply on the agonizingly crimson streams of blood,

Unmarried; when we laughed; it was as if to trace and assimilate even the most insouciant bit of ecstasy hidden in our unconscious veins; whilst after marriage we invidiously chortled and exploited each other’s idiosyncrasies; even at the cost of an infinite tears which unstoppably flowed,

Unmarried; when we sketched; all we could capture on our barren canvases was every conceivable shade of our passionately exuberant silhouettes; whilst after marriage if ever we used our drawing pens; then it was to spew blood of intolerance and unfathomable hatred,

Unmarried; when we were lost; we rediscovered and reborn each other in our very own unassailably redolent breaths; whilst after marriage we heartlessly abandoned each other; leaping at the beams of hope who came searching us; and at the first opportunity,

Unmarried; when we sobbed for our loved ones; the innermost realms of our souls united for an infinite lifetimes to share our grief and ameliorate ourselves to the highest epitome of the Sun; whilst after marriage we sadistically used each other’s tears to bathe; incase the overhead tank was empty,

Unmarried; when we created something; we mutually congratulated each other till the aisles of endless infinity whether there came or not; the tiniest of soul from the outside world; whilst after marriage the same creation became the ultimate reason in our route to divorce,

Unmarried; when we saw suffering on the streets; we selflessly extricated even the last ounce of blood from our veins; endeavoring our best to serve humanity; whilst after marriage we greedily amassed our own wealth; career; identity and fame; in order to royally exist in separate palaces of gold soaked in innocent blood,
Unmarried; when we met after office; we embraced each other with so much passion and intensity that the most gigantic of structures and creation around humbly tumbled to our toes; whilst after marriage we rapaciously preferred to frequent the prostitutes dwelling to placate our heinous desires; as well as stay forever away from our robotically boring faces,

Therefore it is my nimble plea to you O! Omnipresent Lord; to let our love forever immortalize into a cloud of unbreakable compassion; to let our love forever become the ultimate guiding beacon for every other true lover born; and thus for all this to consolidate into a timeless reality; leave us best as UNMARRIED…

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Into how many parts would you divide the child after Divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many insane parts would you divide your new-born child’s eternal happiness; after your treacherously vindictive divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many heartless parts would you divide your new-born child’s invincible freedom; after your venomously unbearable divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ribald parts would you divide your new-born child’s unsurpassable creativity; after your lethally unceremonious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many salacious parts would you divide your new-born child’s majestic destiny; after your lecherously ignominious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many emotionless parts would you divide your new-born child’s triumphant spirit; after your contemptuously debasing divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many terrorizing parts would you divide your new-born child’s unbridled fantasies; after your abhorrently cadaverous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many excruciating parts would you divide your new-born child’s humanitarian blood; after your cold-bloodedly cannibalistic divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many tyrannized parts would you divide your new-born child’s unconquerable artistry; after your violently besmirching divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many reproachful parts would you divide your new-born child’s redolent playfulness; after your despicably devastating divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sacrilegious parts would you divide your new-born child’s impregnable mischief; after your sadistically bemoaning divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many wanton parts would you divide your new-born child’s impeccable integrity; after your hedonistically carnivorous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ghoulish parts would you divide your new-born child’s limitless fertility; after your mindlessly malicious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many diabolical parts would you divide your new- born child’s infallible innocence; after your unforgivably truculent divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many vengeful parts would you divide your new-born child’s uninhibited cries; after your preposterously bigoted divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many criminal parts would you divide your new-born child’s princely silkenness; after your tempestuously confounding divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many satanic parts would you divide your new-born child’s tiny brain; after your barbarously ungainly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sadistic parts would you divide your new-born child’s unlimited curiosity; after your egregiously dastardly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many carnivorous parts would you divide your new-born child’s parental longing; after your inanely decrepit divorce?

And you might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but tell me; into how many goddamned parts would you divide your new-born child’s immortal love; after your devilishly vituperative divorce?

©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
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Hold Me Back

(young - young)
I got a big fat cadillac built for you
I got a honk thatll blow the avenue
Got a hot dog kickin all bend my thing
Got a a sugar looking woman with a bald headed man
Give me five o here boy, thats what Ill do
Got a big fat momma who can hold a tune
Gotta slip that bone in hard and mean
A honky tonk woman get the best of me
Cant hold me back
Cant hold me back
Cant hold me back
Get a heart attack
Cant hold me back
Got a honky tonk big ball hit to thrill
I got a sugar boot money baby thatll kill
A honky tonk 15 golden mile
Gotta bald headed woman loaded in the town
You can get me to the ball man, drivin in
And dont balk the kill, call in the ville
You gotta map the wrong town, hit the road
You got the whole boppa movin on down the road
Cant hold me back
You cant hold me back
You cant hold me back
You get a heart attack
Cant hold me back
You cant hold me back
You cant hold me back
You cant hold me back
You get a heart attack
Cant hold me back
You cant hold me back, you cant hold me back
You cant hold me back, you cant hold me back
Cant hold me back, you cant hold me back
You cant hold me back, you get a heart attack
Cant hold me back (hold me back)
You cant hold me back (hold me back)
You cant hold me back (hold me back)
Cant hold me back (hold me back)
You cant hold me back (hold me back)
Cant hold me back (hold me back)
You cant hold me back (hold me back)
You cant hold me back
2000, j. albert & son, pty.

song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hold Back

Written by ricky & marty wilde
Now when we started - no interventions
I wanted everything with no conditions
You took my love and told it to the world
But now it really changes things
The ring you wear belongs to someone else
Somebody else and my heart keeps saying
Hold back - hold back your love
Baby its just a crazy thing to start
Hold back - hold back your love
Maybe its just the easy way to part
Hold back - hold back (hold back, hold back...)
No denials - no introspection
Im not competing for some true perfection
I wanted something thats fine and thats for sure
And now I wonder how she feels
cos in her heart she knows theres someone else
Somebody else and I hear her saying
Hold back - hold back your love
Baby its just a crazy thing to start
Hold back - hold back your love
Maybe its just the easy way to part
Hold back - hold back
Hold back (hold back)
Hold back your love
Hold back (hold back)
Hold back your love
(baby...) hold back (hold back)
Hold back your love
Baby its just a crazy thing to start
Baby its just a crazy thing
You gotta hold back - hold back your love
(hold back) - hold back your love
(hold back) - you gotta hold back your love
(ooh) you gotta hold back your love
(ooh) hold back your love
Hold back (hold back)
(ooh)
(ooh)
Hold back
(ad lib to fade)

song performed by Kim Wilde
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fourth Book

THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'

So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Kids Are Alright

I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
I know if I go things would be a lot better for her
I know if I go things would be a lot better for her
I had things planned, but her folks wouldnt let her
I had things planned, but her folks wouldnt let her
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
I dont mind other guys dancing with my girl
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
Thats fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
And I know if I dont, Ill go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
Better leave her behind with the kids, theyre alright
The kids are alright
The kids are alright

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Delicious

April, (? )
When you get that smile in your eye.
Something inside
Goes wild wild wild.
Sunshine
Chase away my rainy days.
Our summer leave
Is here. please stay.
Chorus:
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Rainbow
Let me know the storm has past.
These memories
Will last and last.
Passion
Curling through the core of the night.
Where have you been
All my life.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
We as one
Here we lie.
Holding hands
Across the sky.
Please be mine. Ill never ever leave you.
Please be mine.
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that sets me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious.
Ill (hold) never ever ever let you go.
Youre (you) my taste of honey, girl.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.
Delicious. (put the fire in my heart)
Ill hold (hold) you in my arms next to me.
You (you) are the one that set me free.
You (you) put the fire in my heart.

[...] Read more

song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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