I guess I'm a born ham.
quote by Marta Kristen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Juleaftenen (Christmas Eve )
Hvo minnes ikke
et vær, han tror, ei himlen mer kan skikke?
et vær som om hver sjel, fra Kains til den,
Gud sist fordømte,
den jord forbannet, fra helvete rømte,
som fristet dem å svike himmelen?....
Et vær, hvis stemmes
forferdelser ei mere kan forglemmes?
Thi alle tenkte: det må være sendt
for min skyld ene;
orkanens tordner meg kun meg de mene;
min synd er blitt åndene bekjent...
Et vær, hvis styrke
kan lære prest og troende å dyrke
demoner i det element, hvis brak
den gamle høre
fra barnsben kan i sitt bemoste øre
et skyens jordskjelv, luftens dommedag?
Et vær, som rystet
den sterkes hjerte i dets skjul i brystet,
et himmelvær, hvori sitt eget navn
han påropt hørte
av ånder, stormene forbi ham førte,
mens hver en tretopp hylte som en ravn? Men ravnen gjemte
seg selv i klippen, ulven sulten temte,
og reven våget seg ikke ut.
I huset sluktes
hvert lys, og lenkehunden inneluktes....
I slikt vær, da får du bønner, Gud!
I slikt vær - det var en juleaften -
da natt det ble før dagens mål var fullt,
befant en gammel jøde, nær forkommen,
seg midt i Sverigs ørken, Tivedskogen.
Han ventedes til bygden denne side
fra bygdene på hin, for julens skyld,
av pikene med lengsel, thi i skreppen
lå spenner, bånd og alt hva de behøvde
for morgendagen, annen dag og nyttår.
Det gjorde lengselen spent, men ikke bange;
thi ennu hadde "Gamle-Jakob" aldri
dem sviktet noen jul: Han kom så visst
som juleaftenen selv.
"Tyss! var det atter stormen,
som hylte gjennom grenene? Det skrek.
Nu skriker det igjen." Og Gamle-Jakob
fluks stanser lyttende for annen gang.
Nu tier det. Thi stormen øker på,
som fossen drønner over den, der drukner.
Han vandrer atter. "Tyss! igjen en lyd!"
[...] Read more
poem by Henrik Wergeland
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Manden fra Paradiis
Der var engang en Enke -
Dog nei! jeg maa mig først betænke;
Hun havde været det, men var nu gift paany,
Med Een fra Thy;
(Det maae vi ikke glemme).
— En Aftenstund, da Manden ei var hjemme,
Sad hun med Haanden under Kind,
Selv Theemaskinen var en Smule sovet ind,
(Den ellers sang en Tone, reen og klar,
Og førte tidt ved Bordet den bedste Passiar).
Fra Jordens Taageland,
Fløi Tankerne til hendes første Mand;
Hun kunde ei den søde Sjæl forglemme,
Og ak! den anden var jo ikke hjemme,
— „Du har det godt!" udbrød hun, „fri for Nød
Du sidder i det abrahamske Skjød,
Og seer til os, der i den snevre Stue
Maa plages slemt af Hoste og af Snue!"
Hun taug og faldt igjen i Tanker,
Da hører hun, hvor det paa Døren banker;
Hun skotter hen til Krogen;
„Uh! er der Nogen?"
(Thi hun var bange for — ja det var hele Tingen -
At see en Aand i den, der havde før slet ingen).
Nu banker det igjen, og saa gaaer Døren op — -
Men det er ingen Aand, nei Een med Kjød og Krop!
Det er en Haandværkssvend, der nu har sprængt sit Buur,
Og gaaer fra By til By og seer paa Guds Natur;
Han gjør Visitter kun, for ei at smægte,
Sligt kalder man: at fægte.
Han var, det saae hun nok, en sælle Een,
Der gik i dette Liv paa sine egne Been;
Og som han sagde det, der noget laae i Tonen,
Der rørte Konen.
Hun spurgte ham, hvorfra han kom, hvorhen han gik;
Og Svaret, som hun fik,
Det var: han drog paa Bursche-Viis,
Nu gjennem Tydskland til Paris. -
Da blev hun i sit Hjerte glad,
Hun dækked' op med Øl og Mad,
Og sagde: „Sæt sig dog, og spiis!
Hvad, reiser han til Paradiis?
O, Herre Gud! i dette Land
Der har jeg jo min første Mand;
Hils ham fra mig og fra vor Datter,
Og hils ham ogsaa lidt fra Fatter!"
[...] Read more
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Out of the…is Born a …
Out of the mire is born a gorgeous flower;
Out of the noise is born a dead silence;
Out of the storm is born, calm!
Out of the strife is born a pleasant life;
Out of the filth is born flora, fauna;
Out of the chaos is born clarity.
Out of the exercise is born a healthy body;
Out of the training is born wisdom;
Out of the learning is born a scholar!
Out of the confession is born a soul afilled with grace;
Out of the Holy Book is born the word of God;
Out of the prayers is born answers from God!
Out of the rain is born the verdure shoots;
Out of the sun is born the growing plants;
Out of the dawn is born a lovely day;
Out of the dusk is born a quiet night!
Out of the hunger is born an appetite;
Out of the dainty food is born satiety;
Out of the wine is born inebriety.
Out of the fasting is born controlled senses;
Out of the inhibition is born a civilized person;
Out of the nature’s furies is born forbearance;
Out of the war is born a newer peace.
Out of the mistakes done is born a new resolve;
Out of the struggle is born a long-lasting freedom;
Out of the perseverance is born an accomplishment.
Out of the light is born a new day on earth;
Out of the night is born a starry sky;
Out of the dark clouds is born an aureole moon.
Out of the boredom is born a life of joy;
Out of the trials, travail is born a mind of steel;
Out of the woes is born a content heart!
Out of the parent’s love is born a loving child;
Out of the love of God is born forgiveness of sins;
Out of the mercy of God is born a soul for heaven!
poem by John Celes
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Skildvagten
Aft'nen er taaget — døsigt Lygterne brænde;
Kun paa sin Støi og sin Larm kan man kjende
Det store Paris.
Den brogede, larmende Vrimmel, paa Bølgernes Viis,
Fremtrænger sig vildt gjennem Stræde og Gade.
Hist staaer et Palads med pragtfuld Façade,
Men kun svagt, gjennem Taagen, dæmrer den straalende Krands
Af Lampernes flammende Glands.
Hvem er vel Eier af hiin Pragt, man seer?
„Un cavalier," man veed ei meer.
Ved Porten staaer en Graaskjæg i Gevær,
Han tjente engang i den store Keisers Hær, -
Forresten man om ham veed meget mindre;
Men saae man i den gamle Krigers Indre,
Da for vort Blik,
En svunden Verden, stor og klar opgik.
„Hvor underligt forandres Alt med Tiden!"
— Saa drømmer han. — „Her stod jeg just! dog, det er længe siden.
Mit Bryst var fuldt af store Ungdoms Drømme;
Da bruste Blodet — ja, i vilde Strømme
Flød Frankrigs Blod,
Men Friheds-Træet grønt og herligt stod,
Og jeg var hærdet; nu jeg gammel er og blød.
Toulon var Fjendens. Seier eller Død
Vi med vor yngste Officeer da svore,
Thi han — han var Napoleon den Store.
— Med ham gik Frankrigs yngste Helte-Flokke
Hen over Alpelandets Kjæmpeblokke,
Bestandigt opad, opad i den skarpe Vind,
Som vilde vi i Himlen ind!
Han gik foran, vi fulgte Mand for Mand,
Hvor før kun Mulen steeg paa Fjeldets Rand,
Og gjennem Iis og Snee og skarpe Vinde,
Vi vidste Fjenden, og vor Seir at finde;
Der midt imellem Kamp og Dødens Flamme,
Han stod den Samme,
Skjøndt Kugler fløi om ham i Dagens Dyst.
„Om han blev dræbt!" — det gjøs i hvert et Bryst,
Thi Gud og han vor Tanke var i Leiren,
Og begge gav os Seiren.
Hvor jublede jeg høit med Folke-Vrimlen,
Da Keiser-Navnet tonede mod Himlen;
— Smaae-Fuglene paa Fjeldets Tind,
Saae stolt til Konge-Ørnen ind;
Da stormede vi gjennem Busk og Hække,
Og Konger kaared' han, hvis Kraft de vilde knække.
Selv Havets Slange, skjøndt den bister lo,
Dog frygtet Konge-Ørnens stærke Klo;
En evig Troskab, Venskab høit de svore,
[...] Read more
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Vi en Sang maae Holger skiænke
Vi en Sang maae Holger skiænke,
Siger man, og standser da:
Om saa ung en Mand da tænke,
Hvor skal vi faae Stoffet fra?
Der er nok, syng bare til:
Visen selv sig digte vil.
Har I hørt ham føre Ordet,
Seet ham læse sin Latin,
Skuet ham ved Frokostbordet,
Seet ham drikke Thee og Vin,
Og I frygte at ei han
Stof til Visen give kan?
Har I seet vor Holger Stampe
Nøgen paa den sorte Hest,
Ved det Syn man kan faa Krampe,
Hiertet giver det sin Rest!
Hvor man ham betragte vil,
Hvilket deiligt Muskelspil!
Saae I ham paa Jagt derovre,
Der paa Feddet, naar han sang:
„Frage nicht, warum ich traure,"
Og han gik sin egen Gang.
Fuglen selv med Vinger paa
Neie sig for Holger maae.
Saae I ham i Dandsen trine,
Giøre Flicflac, høie Spring?
Hver en Dame, Død og Pine!
Gik da Hiertet ud og ind.
„Han vil blive," lød i Chor,
„God naar først han bliver stor."
Har I seet Personen svømme,
Har I seet ham staae paa Tørt?
Det er nok, vi kan berømme,
Søde Holger, vi er rørt!
Gid du snart bag Rosens Tiørn
Staae med Viv og Maaske-Børn!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Born To Be Loved By You
Borne again.
Because have you at just being borne again.
At last I feel that Im alive and more.
This is the moment Ive waited for.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Born to walk with you.born to talk with you.
I was born for you.
Born to be with you, only you.
Born to be loved by you.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born to be loved by you
(you and only you) born to be with only you.
I look at you and all at once I know that dreams come true.
For there you are the other part of me.
I have found my destiny.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Right or wrong for you.weak or strong for you.
Faithful or untrue
Born chained forever and far beyond.
Born to be loved by you and only you
No one else will do.
Heart and soul,born to be loved
Born to be loved.born to be loved by you.
(you and only you,born to be with only you)
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby..
song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Spam
Spam in the place where I live (ham and pork)
Think about nutrition, wonder whats inside it now (oh boy)
Spam in my luchbox at work (its the best)
Really makes a darn good sandwhich any way you slice it at all
If youre running low, go to the store
Carry some money to help you buy more
The tab is there to open the can
The can is there to hold in the spam
Oh, spam on the table at home (ham and pork)
Think about selection, are there different flavors now (lets eat)
Spam in my office at work (its the best)
Think about the stuff its made from, wonder if its mystery of meat
If you need a spoon, keep one around
Carry a thermose to help wash it down
Now, if theres some left, dont just throw it out
Use it for spackle or bathroom grout, now
Spam in my pantry at home (have some more)
Think of expiration, better read the lable (oh boy)
Spam breakfast, dinner, or lunch (its the best)
Think about how its been precooked, wonder if Ill just eat it cold
Now, once you start in, you cant put it down
Dont leave it sitting or itll turn brown
The key is going to open the tin
The tin is there to keep the spam in
Oh, spam (spam)
Ham and pork
Think about nutrition, wonder whats inside it now (oh boy)
Spam (spam)
Its the best
Really makes a darn good sandwhich any way you slice it
Spam in the place where I live (have some more)
Think about addiction, wonder if Im a junkie now (lets eat)
Spam in the place where I work (youre obsessed)
Think about the way its processed, wonder if its some kind of meat
Spam in the back of my car (ham and pork)
Spam any place that you are (ham and pork)
The tab is there to open the can (spam any place that you are) (ham and pork)
The can is there to hold in the spam (spam any place that you are) (ham and pork)
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Marts
'Livets Frihed, Jordens Baand,
Kamp imellem Form og Aand.'
*
Mægtigt Vaarens Pulse banke,
Dog er det saa kold en Tid;
See, imellem Form og Tanke
Viser sig den store Strid;
Aaret giver i det Mindre,
Hvad i Secler Verden gav,
Hvad du seer, hvor Stjerner tindre,
Og i Oldtids sjunkne Grav,
Livets Frihed, Jordens Baand,
Kamp imellem Form og Aand.
*
Jorden.
Ton høit i Tidens Kamp mit stolte Qvad!
En Verden være mig mit Nodeblad,
Urbjergene, som dybt grundfæsted' staae,
De er' de sorte Streger, sat' derpaa,
Og hver Forstening, hvert et Lag deri,
Er Noden til den stolte Melodie.
Hvert Mammuthsdyr, hver Blomst i Stenen bundet
Os synger om et Liv, som er forsvundet,
Om Tidens Stræben, Tidens snevre Baand,
Om Kampen mellem Formerne og Aand.
Hvo sprængte Himlen med sit Stjernetal,
Den vidtudstrakte Ymers Pandeskal,
Den høie Himmelhvælving i sin Skranke -
Hvo, uden Aanden med sin Flamme-Tanke?
Copernikus gav Jorden Liv og Gang,
Stolt alle Sphærerne i Rummet sang,
De gamle Former bort som Avner fløi,
Og Verden blev saa navnløs stor og høi.
Den vilde Søgang bryder stolt hver Skranke,
Og Klippen brister, som den skjøre Planke,
Sø bliver Land og Landet atter Sø,
Men dobbelt skjøn sig reiser Ø ved Ø,
Det indre Liv sig lader ei betvinge.
See! Skovene fra Jordens Muld fremspringe,
Fixstjernens Skjær naaer ned til Jordens Bugt,
Skjøndt Secler svinde i dens snare Flugt,
Men Rummet ei kan Kraftens Straale dæmpe,
Forgjæves Titans Børn mod Himlen kjæmpe.
Brænd Byer af, riv ned med Tiger-Kloe,
Strøe Salt i Gruset, at ei Græs skal groe! -
Dog reiser Aanden atter Steen ved Steen,
[...] Read more
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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In the next birth
IF I ACQUIRED the menacing form of an
alligator in the next birth,
I would want you to cling tightly to my persona as my serrated green
skin.
If I was born in the ominous form of the jungle tiger in the
next birth,
I would you to be incorporated in my body as my domineeringly
authoritative growl.
If I was born as a densely foliated tree in the next birth,
I would want you to be the perennial leaves that emanated from
my silhouette.
If I was born as an opalescent fish in the next birth,
I would want you to be saline water in which I could sustain life
and swim.
If I was born as the twin horned sacrosanct cow in the next birth,
I would inevitably desire you as the milk I would diffuse from
my flaccid teats.
If I was born as a slithering reptile in the next birth,
I would want you to be the lethal venom I possessed in my triangular
fangs.
If I was born as an obnoxious donkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my hooves which swished indiscriminately
at innocuous trespassers.
If I was born as perpetually blind in the next birth,
I would indispensably want you to be my eyes to guide me
towards dazzling light.
If I was born as being disdainfully maim; bereft of feet in the next
birth,
I would incorrigibly want you to be my legs to ecstatically leap
in times of jubilation.
If I was born as a rustic spider with a battalion of arms in the
next birth,
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Fru Bournonville
Hvem Gud har kjær gav han Geniets Flamme,
I tusind Farver kvæger det vort Syn,
Men ham, som fik det, bittre Smerter ramme,
Han halvfortæres af sit Guddoms Lyn;
Tidt gaaer han ene — lyser, som en Kjerte,
Og lysende fortæres han som den,
Men elsker Gud ham, vil et trofast Hjerte
Sig slutte til ham, kalde ham sin Ven.
En Skytsaand følger ham, en ædel Qvinde,
Hun styrker ham paa Stridens tunge Dag,
Hans Sorg hun lukker i sit Hjerte inde,
Og mere kraftigt er hans Vingeslag.
Du er en saadan Skytsaand god og stærk,
Hans Navn, hans Lykke, blev dit Hjertes Værk.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Januar
'- Nyfødt Aaret er vorden!
Stolt, med den flagrende Lok, i Storm og i Blæst,
Paa sin vingede Hest
Jager Tiden hen over Jorden - !'
*
Vandringsmanden.
Et Hjem for Samojed og Pescheræ
Viser den frosne Jord med sin Snee;
Men her, som i et Feeland at see,
Staaer det riimfrosne Træ
Og løfter mod Solen sin glimrende Green
Mod en Luft, som Italiens, sortblaa, men reen.
Det er deiligt at see,
Hvor over den hvide Snee
Den sorte Rovfugl svæver,
Og Hytterne hist, hvor Røgen sig hæver,
Hvor Pigen strøer Korn af sin lille Kurv
For den qviddrende Spurv.
- Ja, nyfødt Aaret er vorden!
Stolt med den flagrende Lok, i Storm og i Blæst,
Paa sin vingede Hest
Jager Tiden hen over Jorden,
Trykker med faderlig Arm
Sine Børn, de kommende Aar, til sin Barm.
Er Maanen i Næ tolv Gange vorden,
Svæver et Barn fra hans Bryst til Jorden,
Hvorfra den ventende Broder vil stige
Igjen til sit evige Rige.
Thi Himmelens mægtige Blaa er det Hav,
Hvor Aaret forsvinder,
Hvorfra det nye oprinder
For vor Jord, denne altid blomstrende Grav.
Tiden
(paa sin vingede Hest).
Min Jord, Du er saa skjøn at see
I Sommer-Grønt, i Vinter-Snee!
Din Kamp, Din Færdsel, Død og Liv,
Alt peger til et Guddoms-Bliv!
Du Hvilepunkt for Tanken gav;
Først saae jeg kun et Taage-Hav,
Det maatte snart for Lyset døe,
Og Du fremstod, men alt var Sø!
Da voxte frem den første Ø,
Med Skov og Frugt og Blomster smaae,
Og Mennesket sin Skaber saae.
Hvert Aar et Barn jeg sendte ned,
Og gjennem Had og Kjærlighed
Det atter sig til Himlen svang,
[...] Read more
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Miss The Lights
(intro) walking tall, full of tedious charm,
The smoothest (? ? ? ) in (? ? ? )
The mission boys all cross their palms
Dont you know who I am
I guess you miss the lights? huh!
I guess you miss the fame
I guess you miss everybody
Hanging onto your name
Little caesar is prince of the city
? ? ?
In this town theres no pity
This man stands alone
I guess you miss the lights - ha!
I guess you miss the fame
I guess you miss everybody
Hanging onto your name
Sometimes when youre all alone
And the blue turns to gray
Better get down on those pinky knees,
And you start to pray
I guess you miss the lights - ha!
I guess you miss the fame
I guess you miss everybody
Kiss-kissing your name
(instrumental)
A glimmering ? , a twilight star
And so much love for show,
A returning wave from the gallery bar
And share the afterglow
I guess you miss the lights
I guess you miss the fame
I guess you miss everybody
Hanging onto your name
Ha!
I guess you miss the lights
I guess you miss the fame, haha!
I guess you miss everybody
Hanging onto your name
(fade out music and chorus)
I guess you miss the lights
I guess you miss everybody
Kiss-kissing your name
song performed by Ufo
Added by Lucian Velea
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With Rose In Hand
Prayer is worth more than a rose
in my hand where love grows
for God and all he knows
The rose has a thorn
which Jesus felt on the crown he had worn.
the rose is red as the blood from his head
when he was crucifed before we were born.
[...] Read more
poem by Meg Harrison
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I Guess I Do It
Why do I do those things that I do?
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
Trying to give romance a chance.
And playing that love game again.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
You want to see the preacher together?
Can we wait until the 38th of May.
And decide then when to announce,
That perfect day.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
Why do I do those things that I do?
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
Trying to give romance a chance.
And playing that love game again.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For the chance of romance.
I guess I do it,
For suspense and the danger.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Born To Rule
Lay down your arms this night
Surrender to the power
Embracing your metal heart
On your final walk through the snow
A hammer made of steel
From the river of blood
With magic, forged in flames
Delusions, a curse of the damned
What do you see?
Imaginary visions or reality
When you're free
Then you'll see that you are bound to rule
Rule - Born - Rule
We were Born to Rule
Rule - Born - Rule
We were Born to Rule
Born to Rule - Born to Rule
We're Born to Rule forever more
Born to Rule - Born to Rule
We're Born to Rule forever
The revolution forced us all to heed the final call
And if tomorrow never comes
Then we will strike the hammer down
Rule - Born - Rule
We were Born to Rule
Rule - Born - Rule
We were Born to Rule
Born to Rule - Born to Rule
We're Born to Rule forever more
Born to Rule - Born to Rule
We're Born to Rule forever
Forever, forever Rule!
song performed by Hammerfall
Added by Lucian Velea
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Green Eggs & Ham
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like them in a boat
I would not, could not, with a goat
I will not eat them in the rain
I do not like them on a train
I do not like them in a box
I will not eat them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I would not, could not, with a mouse
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
Green eggs and ham
Green eggs and ham
Dont like green eggs and ham
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Dont Wanna Know
Well you followed me this far
Did you find out whats inside
Can you tell me what Im doing
Is it something I should hide
I dont know for sure
I dont wanna find out what I left there for
Im not scared and Im not lonely
Saving all my money or my breath
Im not looking for an answer
Or anyone to second guess no
You told me all your secrets
And I filled you up with lies
Now Im living honestly
Because I said goodbye
I cant go home anymore
I dont wanna find out what I left there for
Im not scared and Im not lonely
Saving all my money or my breath
Im not looking for an answer
Im not asking anyone to second guess
I was losing all my senses
I was losing all control
It was getting so offensive
Now you want me back for more
And I just wont go
If you think you know the answers
Youve got a lot of gall
Cause it gives you satisfaction
Knowing nothing at all
I dont care anymore
And I dont wanna find out what I left there for
What I left there for
Im not scared and Im not lonely
Saving all my money or my breath
Im not looking for an answer
Im not asking anyone to take a second guess no
Im not scared and Im not lonely
Saving all my money or my breath yeah
Im not looking for an answer
Im not asking anyone to take a second guess no
Take a second guess yeah
Take a second guess yeah
(hey)
Take a second guess yeah
(hey)
Take a second guess yeah
Take a second guess
(I cant talk to you)
Take a second guess
(yeah, yeah I know)
[...] Read more
song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
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Borrowed Time
(olivia newton-john)
I saw the light but it was too late, too late
I wanted to fight but it was too great, too great to fight it
Guess Im loving on borrowed time
Didnt know that you could not be mine
Im the fool I guess
Im the fool I guess
I started to cry but I was cried out, cried out
Cause you opened my eyes but with the light out
I couldnt see it
Guess Im loving on borrowed time
Didnt know that you could not be mine
Im the fool I guess
Im the fool I guess
I begged you to leave her but it was too late, too late
Cause though you have deceived her
You knew that shed wait
Shed wait forever
Guess Im loving on borrowed time
Didnt know that you could not be mine
Im the fool I guess
Im the fool I guess
Guess Im loving on borrowed time
Didnt know that you could not be mine
Im the fool I guess
Im the fool I guess
Oh baby, Im the fool I guess
Oh now, Im the fool I guess
song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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The rain and my newborn baby daughter
The rain was uninhibitedly untamed; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
kicking left; right and center; in her diminutively blessed cradle,
The rain was Omnipotently pristine; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
mischievously tossing in unadulterated joy on the tufts of majestic
green
grass galore,
The rain was magically mitigating; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
miraculously ameliorating me of my most horrific despair; with her
innocuously fluttering eyelashes,
The rain was eternally liberating; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
naughtily smiling amidst her spectrum of teddy bears; as if there was
not
even the most infinitesimal trace of tension on this fathomless
Universe,
The rain was perennially fructifying; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
perpetually proliferating into unparalleled festoons of happiness;
every
unfurling minute of inscrutable existence,
The rain was unbelievably colorful; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
unfurling into the infinite shades of mystically emollient life; every
time
she alighted her pristinely nimble foot,
The rain was timelessly life-yielding; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
perpetuating a paradise of unsurpassably undefeated newness; in every
direction that she cast her immaculately dancing sight,
The rain was pricelessly inimitable; and so was my new born baby
daughter;
unconquerably enamoring even the most farthest quarter of heaven; with
the
twinkle in her rhapsodically infallible eyes,
The rain was the ultimate gift of the heavens; and so was my new born
baby
daughter; whose cries of stupendously charismatic freshness; spawned a
civilization of boundless beauty; till times beyond infinite infinity,
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
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