marital problems

Read the abstract of your PhD thesis.

The shadowing voices of our gods
Singing on the calling winds...
Where the cold waves and the longboats brought us far

The saga of the warriors from northland
Speaks of greatness and strength
The saga of the warriors from northland
Are the saga of many great a man

On seas against the open
We travelled on and on
Through the raging winds
And storms we arrived

The shadowing voices of our gods
Singing on the calling wind...
Where the cold waves and the longboats brought us far

With sword in hand I now stand
On my enemies land
With a northern heart
I will fight until the day I die

My time will be remembered my time it will be known
By my sons by my tribe and by the sun the sea and moon

For the who battle for his land his pride and for his men
Shall be remembered and stand eternally named
In the legends of our land

Breathing in winds...
From the essence of a roaring horizon
Breathing in winds...
From the cold sea call the shores of the north....

The things about you I appreciate
may seem indelicate:

I’d like to find you in the shower
And chase the soap for half an hour.
I’d like to have you in my power
and see your eyes dilate.
I’d like to have your back to scour
And other parts to lubricate.
Sometimes I feel it is my fate
To chase you screaming up a tower
or make you cower
By asking you to differentiate
Nietzsche from Schopenhauer.
I’d like to successfully guess your weight
and win you at a fete.
I’d like to offer you a flower.

I like the hair upon your shoulders,
Falling like water over boulders.
I like the shoulders, too: they are essential.
Your collar-bones have great potential
(I’d like all your particulars in folders
marked Confidential).

I like your cheeks, I like your nose,
I like the way your lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your teeth
(Half above and half beneath)
in rows.

I like your eyes, I like their fringes.
The way they focus on me gives me twinges.
Your upper arms drive me berserk.
I like the way your elbows work,
on hinges.

I like your wrists, I like your glands,
I like the fingers on your hands.
I’d like to teach them how to count,
And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.
I’d like to give you just the right amount
and get some change.

I like it when you tilt your cheek up.
I like the way you nod and hold a teacup.
I like your legs when you unwind them.
Even in trousers I don’t mind them.
I like each softly-moulded kneecap.
I like the little crease behind them.
I’d always know, without a recap,
where to find them.

I like the sculpture of your ears.
I like the way your profile disappears
Whenever you decide to turn and face me.
I’d like to cross two hemispheres
and have you chase me.
I’d like to smuggle you across frontiers
Or sail with you at night into Tangiers.
I’d like you to embrace me.

I’d like to see you ironing your skirt
and cancelling other dates.
I’d like to button up your shirt.
I like the way your chest inflates.
I’d like to soothe you when you’re hurt
Or frightened senseless by invertebrates.

I’d like you even if you were malign
And had a yen for sudden homicide.
I’d let you put insecticide
into my wine.
I’d even like you if you were the Bride of Frankenstein
Or something ghoulish out of Mamoulian’s Jekyll and Hyde.
I’d even like you as my Julian of Norwich or Cathleen ni Houlihan
How melodramatic
If you were something muttering in attics
Like Mrs Rochester or a student of boolean mathematics.

You are the end of self-abuse.
You are the eternal feminine.
I’d like to find a good excuse
To call on you and find you in.
I’d like to put my hand beneath your chin.
And see you grin.
I’d like to taste your Charlotte Russe,
I’d like to feel my lips upon your skin,
I’d like to make you reproduce.

I’d like you in my confidence.
I’d like to be your second look.
I’d like to let you try the French Defence
and mate you with my rook.
I’d like to be your preference
and hence
I’d like to be around when you unhook.
I’d like to be your only audience,
The final name in your appointment book,
your future tense.

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

–Raymond Carver

This is home, home
And this is home, home
This is home

I found your standing there
When I was seventeen
Now I'm thirty-two
And I can't remember what I'd seen in you
I made a promise
Said it everyday
Now I'm reading romance novels
And I'm dreaming of yesterday

I'd like to see the Riviera
And slowdance underneath the stars
I'd like to watch the sun come up
In a stranger's arms

I'm going crazy
A little everyday
And everything I wanted
Is now driving me away
I woke this morning
To the sound of breaking hearts
Mine is full of questions
And it's tearing yours apart
It's tearing yours apart.

Now I got you
Now you care
Now you have me and
Now I'm there

Now we're tied - Until death us do part
Now I'm making my way inside
Now I'm feeding myself with you
And the more I grow, the more you decline
Now we're tied until death us do part

LOCK
LOCK space THE space DOOR space
FOREVER

Now it's time for you to be sure
That the life we share will be long
That what can't be cured has to be endured
Now we're tied until death us do part

LOCK
LOCK space THE space DOOR space
FOREVER

Repeat 'impossible men': not merely rustic,
Foul-tempered or depraved
(Dramatic foils chosen to show the world
How well women behave, and always have behaved).

Impossible men: idle, illiterate,
Self-pitying, dirty, sly,
For whose appearance even in City parks
Excuses must be made to casual passers-by.

Has God's supply of tolerable husbands
Fallen, in fact, so low?
Or do I always over-value woman
At the expense of man?
Do I?
It might be so.

Robert Graves

from the velveteen rabbit? it's cute, but it might not fit the bill based on the uniqueness requirement. it's a pretty popular choice.

Aw I liked that valentine one