Make your son you heir and not your steward.
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Heir Apparent
I came back to my old city
With fierce determination
And I couldnt find my way out of the station
Its all changed
You were there
Departing, starting
A trek I had once took
With that no-ones gonna stop me when I feel this way look
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You think its so easy, I tell you - it isnt
But you may change minds with your winning smile
I fell down in my old city
Such sad degradation
So I tried to make my way back to the station
You were still there
Gleaming and leaving
Wide-eyed and awestruck
Saying how can anybody hate me
If I love them first off ?
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You think its so easy, I tell you - it isnt
But you may change minds with your winning smile
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
But you may be ok, I dont know
Ill see you back here
In a few bruised years
Pray
Ill see you here
Ill see you here
Ill see you here
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You say that you want it, Im sure that youll get it
Theyll seduce your heart and then theyll slap your arse
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Divine Act Of God
I Am a Divine Act of God:
Here, now and forever
I am;
Eternal
Heir to the Universe
Son of the Sun
Filled with Light
Self aware
Self contained
Sovereign
Whole
Healed
I am;
Steward to Earth
Servant to mankind
Protector of women
Guardian of children
I Am a Divine Act of God
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Soon Is Now?
I am the son, I am the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth, how can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son, I am the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
Im the son and heir of nothing in particular
Chorus
There is a club if youd like to go
You could meet someone who really loves you
So you go and you stand on your own
And you leave on your own
And you go home and you cry and you want to die
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Soon Is Now
I am the son,
and, the heir.
Of a shyness that was criminally vulgar.
Son, and heir.
Of nothing in particular.
Oh, shut your mouth.
How can you say,
I go about things the wrong way?
Im human and I need to be loved,
like everyone,
like everyone does.
I am the son,
and, the heir.
Of a shyness that was criminally vulgar.
Son, and heir.
Of nothing in particular.
Of nothing in particular at all.
And you say its gonna happen now.
When exactly do you mean?
Ive already waited to long,
and all my hope is gone.
Theres a club if youd like to go.
You might meet someone,
who really loves you.
So you go on your own,
and leave on your own,
and you go home,
and you cry and you wanna die
song performed by by Quicksand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpa's Wish
Oh I wonder when you wished your wish,
On behalf of your name's sake.
That a child would come and carry on,
Your name that follows Jake.
Oh patriarch you fathered a son,
And so heir one came to be.
Son heir one fathered him a son,
And heir two made Anderson three.
Oh I wonder when you wished your wish,
For another son to be bore.
To preserve the name you proudly bare,
With generations of men times four.
Only God thus knows if such a day comes,
When our name will cease to be.
But for now your legacy doth carry on;
Wish granted! Come see heir number three.
poem by Joseph M Anderson
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In the time one is given, the steward must make the most of the talents one is given by the Lord.
quote by Gloria Macapagal Arroyo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm the heir apparent to the heir presumptive.
quote by Princess Margaret
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son And Heir
A cute-faced cheetah cub rests there,
Oblivious and frail,
He's now a precious son and heir,
A firstborn fragile male...
Just skin and bones and not much more,
Yet as each year goes by,
He'll run so fast upon each paw
You'll think that he can fly!
He'll pick his moments just like those
That race across this land
And sometimes rest as if to pose,
As if to make a stand...
As if to say, he's learnt enough,
He needs no teacher now,
For he's been taught by hate and love
And all the fates allow...
So watch out, world! He bides his time,
One day, he'll rule supreme,
One day, the tallest trees he'll climb,
Though now that's just a dream...
This son and heir will do his best
And not just to survive,
He'll do it just because he's blessed,
To prosper and to thrive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Son And Heir'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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How Soon Is Now ?
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Oh, of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Oh ...
Oh ...
There's a club, if you'd like to go
You could meet somebody who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own
And you leave on your own
And you go home, and you cry
And you want to die
When you say it's gonna happen "now"
Well, when exactly do you mean ?
See, i've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone
Oh ...
Oh ...
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Ok ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Soon Is Now?
I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Theres a club if youd like to go you
Could meet somebody who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own and
You leave on your own and you go home,
And you cry and you want to die.
When you say its gonna happen now,
When exactly do you mean? see Ive already
Waited too long and all my hope is gone
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you wish to die young, make your physician your heir.
Put a beggar into your barn and he will make himself your heir.
The Heir
The yoke of bandage and the children of the desolate,
Cast out the bonbwoman and her son!
For the children of she who has a husband will,
Have a son as the heir on the thrown! !
The south wind blew like the seed of the chosen one,
And i hope to see you soon by my kinsmen;
But do rescue the free woman as the sign of hope.
Of the danger met at sea and of the armour of light!
Peace is the mind at rest as compared to a wide open mouth;
For the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Asia, Bithyna, the Metropolis and the Adriatic Sea!
You are puffed up with pride without the heir;
But the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Man came from the clay and woman came from man,
But the heir is already noted among the children of women;
And the day comes when the bloom of your flowers will be exposed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The King Must Marry
I just know that there is something sweet out there,
And i am sure you are the one for me;
The King must marry inorder to produce the heir.
The love of cultural upheavals to a game,
Like the ardent exponent;
But, who is ready to marry the King?
A frenetic development,
Of the lethal product of an act to gain;
A prime love to see is on this game where,
The King must surely marry to produce the heir.
The act of primitive power,
The King must marry;
Like the reconnection of an act with a golden touch.
Act, love, recommendations;
The King has to marry in order to produce an heir.
A golden move,
A golden love,
Battling the words out of his mouth to marry;
The heir is what matters so,
He cannot bawl private matters through a looked door.
Battling navigations,
Battling love,
Battling words to look for a lover;
You may laugh mirthlessly but,
He is not bidding for a prime cow.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Today... 'Heir of all things
To Him everything shall be given
Things on earth and things in heaven.
The Son is the rightful heir of all things
He is the Lord of lords and King of kings.
For God has spoken to us in these last days
and throughout the universe displays
in majestic splendour His power and might
so that all men may behold the wondrous sight
and know that the Christ of whom angels sing
is the One and Only Heir of Everything.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Heir
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am in my father's house
I am fair.
My father is my father
And I am in full power.
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am not as mad as a hare
I like peace and
I do not like war.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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air travel in a Dakota
Air Travel in a Dakota (1956)
White as sheet, the virtual page in front of me, I want to compose a gentle
whisper of a memory. Thought of my first flight, an old Dakota plane, that
looked like a diesel stinking bus inside. I looked under the seat to find
the parachute, but the steward said there weren’t any. Disappointing I had
seen myself jumping out off the burning plane land safely and be in
the newspapers. The steward handed out sweets I pretended to eat one,
thought it might be a drug to keep us quiet, this made sense since many of
the passengers were drunk. Turbulence, like driving on a bad country lane,
I threw up in a paper bag. The plane landed in Sweden, the flight had only
lasted an hour. Walked tall across the grey tarmac, nonchalant presented
my passport to an immigration officer. Here comes a seasoned traveler.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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When the cook and the steward fall out we hear who stole the butter.
When the cook and the steward fall out, we hear who stole the butter.