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Polygamous poetry

Background:
In the past there have been some interesting proponents of Polygamy. Some were quiet people who firmly believed in it, and chose a martyr's death over renouncing their beliefs or repudiating their wives. Other's were, well, loud-mouths. Perhaps the most colorful of these was Johan Lester, a celibate, who lived during the 1600s in Europe. He wrote a number of books and tracts and traveled all over Western Europe preaching the social gospel of Polygamy as the solution to society's ills. Naturally, he met a good deal of resistance including having stocks of his books seized and burned. At one point, he proposed raising a tombstone to Monogamy and inscribing upon it the following epitaph.

Monogamy's Epitaph

Stay, wayfarer, your step, a few words with you I pray.
Do you ask who lies here buried? Monogamy.
Do you ask who her father was? Phantasy.
Her mother? The Lady Know-Nothing.
Bred by what nurse? Folly.
By which attendants guarded? The brothers Ignorance and Pettycoatgoverned.
What has she done in the world? Nothing.
She giggled, she coquetted, she painted on gourds,
Yet she did bring forth I know not what an unspeakable brood,
Infanticide, wifemurder, adulterers, onanism, sodomy and other monstrosities of that breed.
At last worn out, and to a nothing reduced, and here lies buried.
If nothing is what you find here, dear reader, be not astounded,
For here is buried MONOGAMY.

-- Johan Lester

Credits:
This translation from the Latin is found in "John Milton Among the Polygamophiles", Loewenthal, Pg. 83. The rest of Johan Lester's story can be found in the same book.
 
Thank you all the poems are so beautiful I love poetry but I can not rhyme or put them together my dad had funny poems that upset my mom, well let's just say it was about a french lady getting stuck in a Loo which was a bathroom in France and young ladies meaning myself was not proper laughing at those poems but I grew up to love poems thank you for sharing.
 
Here's a classic that I was surprised wasn't here already:

Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater;
Had a wife, and couldn't keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.

Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater;
Had another and didn't love her;
Peter learned to read and spell,
And then he loved her very well.
 
Just browsing through some posts, and I hadn't read this yet. I wrote this one before I ever talked with my wife, but was seriously stressing about telling her what I was thinking. I just knew how she would react:

Your house is built
Your children sleep
comfortably warm and snug

Your dog is fed
You have your trees
the well is almost dug

I kiss your lips
I hold you tight
my love for you is true

What is it then I've done to you?
What I've done is Love her too.



Then this one I wrote after a very depressing dream one night. I was in heaven, but utterly alone, and wondering why. This was written during some particularly rough times.



For a thousand years my farm I kept
My books I read, my trails I walked
on my feather bed I slept
but without her with whom to talk

In heaven I lacked for no thing
Stocked with every provision
Lonely to hear her voice sing
I've now been granted this vision

The Morning Star comes down my trail
He greets me as a son
So long hidden, he lifts the veil
In my stay I have seen no one

Why has she not searched for me?
I know that she is here
Why do no one else I see?
His answers I most fear

A gift my Lord gives, to swiftly take
Me to those I love
My fears remain, though now I make
My way through clouds above

I see you first at home with him
Your family by your side
Anger has long since grown dim
Together you now abide

I am greeted by your kiss
You're glad that I stopped by
It's obvious you hadn't missed
My love after I died

You welcome me with a glad heart
But I am not here needed
So I turn and make my start
though feeling torn, defeated

I find her home, it is not ours
Her children bless her there
I cannot know if her love sours
Were we not an eternal pair?

I am greeted by her kiss
She's glad that I stopped by
It's obvious she hasn't missed
My love after I died

She asks if I will stay awhile
It's been so long since then
Her good grace is a denial
of our lost love back when

Again I turn and go my way
I leave my love again
There is no cause for me to stay
Though joy replaces sin

I had no friends or brothers then
But two I loved completely
I could not be convinced of sin
In hearts that loved so deeply

Now those I loved have found their home
I am no longer needed
It is my fate to be alone
Despite how much I've pleaded

All things work out for good for those
Who love the Lord, I know
It is his story to compose
My life to live below

No one lacks for any thing
In paradise all is enjoyed
The truth is like a painful sting
I am forgiven, I am destroyed
 
This could become polygamous poetry if he kept going for a bit longer. I can't find an author for this, but it's an old favorite:

She frowned and called him Mr
Because in sport he kr
And so in spite
That very nite
This Mr kr sr.
 
One afternoon my wife came a'knocking,
so my wife opened the door,
they sat down for tea, they sat down with me,
and thus we were three,
but I pray thee... wait, there is more.

One afternoon we sat down to tea,
we sat down, we three at the table,
I counted the chairs, like counting the odds,
to see how much I was able,
glancing around, my wife then sat down,
preferring her cream cheese and bagel,
so the tea I did pour, for now we were four,
with still more chairs at our table.

One afternoon we cleaned up from tea,
and were packing away all the dishes,
when suddenly, my wife came to me,
showering me all over with kisses...
Yea, I felt alive,
for now we were five,
the Mr. and all of his Missuses
 
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