Most American children suffer too much mother and too little father.
quote by Gloria Steinem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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Father also mother
Father was
Male...
Mother was
Female...
Thats all
For children....
Father with out
Not mother...
mother without
Not father...
All are same...
Father's works
Mother doing...
Mother's works
Father doing...
So...
Father also
Mother...
Mother also
Father...
Male... female
No for husban and wife...?
Or for children...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unseen
something's wrong with mother always cleaning the house
and father complains for she does nothing but sweep and scrub
and dust and wipe and rub,
the floors are shiny and father does not like it
he may slide and the children too
and each may hurt the body, but mother cannot be stopped
and we complain like what father does, but mother does not
really mind, for she has become so hardheaded because father
slaps her and we make her deaf with our grumblings
until then when mother died and father cried and we felt we had all our
lives wasted, but there was one in the family who smiled
someone who thought that mother simply did what she liked best
clean the dirt, mop the floors, get all the spider's cobwebs
someone sees the beauty of mother, she's doing her chores still
but now unseen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Home is the father's kingdom, the children's paradise, the mother's world.
Mother Is Dying: Part 2 (Filicide)
Mother is infuriated
Mother is irritated
Mother is agitated
Mother is aggravated
Tormented by Her children
Sickened by Her children
Scarred by Her children
She is beginning to die
Mother was gentle
Mother was accepting
Mother was enduring
Though mother is now corrupted,
Similar to Her children
Her anger boils from her very core
Swirling vortexes of hatred dominate the skies
Her loathe floods Her children’s lives
The incarnate of Her disgust with Her children
Is devastating and cataclysmic
Her children can no longer find
Sanctuary from mother’s mercy
Mother is too enraged to rationalize
Mother will create The Rapture.
Mother will cause The Apocalypse.
Mother will eliminate humanity.
Mother will commit filicide.
poem by Alex Gomez
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Missing Link
A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said.
The children in the street
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother, ” are you sure he is my father? ”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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My Parents
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
I looking for you
to talk about my heart
which still ill
untill i will see you
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
You are the third one
In my small heart
After ALLAH and
And my prophet MOHAMED
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH is ordering us
Not to make them angry
Never to tell them
the smallest word ouufff
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH loves who
Makes his parents happy
And forgives those
Who have a lot of mistakes
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
Oh ALLAH enter me
To the higher Firdaous
With my parents and
every single MUSLIM
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
poem by Abderaouf Laoud
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On His Father's Side
On his mother’s side
Born in Bethlehem
On his Father’s side
No one before him
On his mother’s side
Growing and learning
On his Father’s side
All knowledge showing
On his mother’s side
Stuck in one location
On his Father’s side
Present in every nation
On his mother’s side
He was hungry
On his Father’s side
The multitudes he did feed
On his mother’s side
At Calvary he died
On his Father’s side
He was the essence of life
On his mother’s side
Buried like other men
On his Father’s side
He rose again
On his mother’s side
Human and weak
On his Father’s side
The God of eternity.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Edward, Edward
'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'
'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'
'Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Edward, Edward:
Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Some other evil ye fear, O.'
'O, I have killed my father dear,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my father dear,
Alas! and woe is me, O!'
'And what penance will ye suffer for that,
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will ye suffer for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother, mother:
I’ll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I’ll fare over the sea, O.'
'And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother, mother:
I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more may I be, O.'
'And what will ye leave to your children and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your children and your wife
When ye go over the sea, O?'
'The world is large, let them beg through life,
Mother, mother:
The world is large, let them beg throw life,
For them never more will I see, O.'
'And what will ye leave to your own mother dear,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your own mother dear?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Mother, mother:
The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Such counsels you gave to me, O.'
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A father and mother can raise ten children. But ten children aren't enough to keep a father and a mother.
Why this date each year
The dawn of this date
The eighteenth March
Drowns me in sadness
As on this day in the year nineteen sixty
My mother, in her early thirties
Left us for heavenly abode
Making me and my sister
Suffer all these years
The lack of mother's love
I did not know that day
How much I missed her
But, as I became a parent
And as I started observing
The demonstration of love
By my wife to our children
I realised that
This day marks the heaviest loss
I could suffer
How I wish that every one
Here on earth
Is fortunate and lucky
To enjoy mother's love
As long as possible
And how I wish that every mother
On this earth
Stays alive and keeps showering
Her love on to her children
As long as possible
You understand as to why I question
Why this date each year
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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God's Playthings
Although we are like God’s children
But actually we are not
Because no sexual organ
Was involved in the process of creation of souls
The building blocks of everything that exist!
Besides we are not inside God’s womb
We are actually inside God’s mind!
Ideal parents never hurt
Their good children
But God hurts so many
Of His so-called children!
So many people are starving
Day after day!
So many people are suffering
From diseases and injuries!
Natural disasters
Kill so many people every year!
God is not our Mother and Father;
Mother and Father are much more
Affectionate, loving and caring!
Never-the-less God is the Best
Cause He loves most of us so much
Though we are not His children
And we are nothing
But playthings of God!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Thank You Mother-god
Thank You Mother-God for caring for us in our need
For the health and healing that we need
Thank You Mother-God for Your for Your gifts we know not of
For Your loving helpfulness from above
Thank You Mother-God for being One with Father-God at the time of creation
Creating all creation with perfection
Being Children of God, we should be Gods
Because You Both created us to be like Gods
Thank You Mother-God for helping Father-God in giving all our gifts
So thar between us, as Children of God, there will be no rifts
April 30,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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The family tree
I am known by my father
Though equally owned by mother.
I trace from my father’s father,
And not from father’s mother
Nor my mother’s mother or father.
Has family tree any sense?
19.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As She Prayed [part 2]
Dear Father Up in Heaven
Watch over our soldiers who fight
For they are fighting for you Father
For the differince in wrong and right
Protect them dear Father
And mend their scars and hearts
For they are far from home dear Father
And their families are torn in parts
Watch over their families, dear Father
Keep those children from all harm
For it's the children who suffer, Father
When they fall under satins evil charm
We'll try and watch for satin dear Father
So our hearts won't let him in
And try our best, dear Father
To shun away from his sibn
I pray for the women, dear Father
Raising their kids all a lone
never knowing, dear Father
If their husbands will make it home
This prayer I pray to you, dear Father
It's this prayer I shall pray again
Until the wars are all over
And there is love among all men
8/13/2009 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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The depth of relations
I am dying.
My mother is crying. I am lost
My wife is crying. She lost me
So are my children. They lost shelter
I am waxing.
My mother is smiling. I will not suffer.
My wife is smiling. She will not suffer.
So are my children. They could prosper
21.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother After Mother
Mother after Mother
Surviving evolution
Reaffirms the overall
Requirements for balance
For that which remains.
Here life depends on Coexistence
With Father star burning.
Fragile Mother, poor! Poor Mother.
What of her children?
What of their homeland?
Mothers Children, look out
See the past drifting away,
Sees future immortality
Manifest machines to travel eternity.
Mother Dreams infinity.
poem by Chris Lane
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Keep The Faith
Mother mother tell your children
That their time has just begun
I have suffered for my anger
There are wars that can't be won
Father father please believe me
I am laying down my guns
I am broken like an arrow
Forgive me
Forgive your wayward son
Everybody needs somebody to love
(mother
song performed by by Bon Jovi from Crossroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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