The earth is not an inheritance of our fathers, nor one for our sons.
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Mothers Always Want Theirs Sons To Be Happy
mothers always want their sons to be happy
and so even if they marry someone
whom their fathers dislike
it is always them who settle for a compromise
and tell fathers to be flexible sometimes
not to hurt the hearts of sons
but sometimes when sons want something else
that only mothers understand
something that fathers cannot really compromise
mothers still compromise
and walk a mile farther
just to make their sons happy
and their sons leave them
to places that only mothers
by their loving hearts
know.
only mothers, yes only mothers,
and no one else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Family of War
Every morning I awake I fall to my knees and pray.
God, please make the war in Iraq come to end.
There are too many fathers and sons come home
in pine boxes. There are too many mothers and daughters
doing the same. Leaving behind fathers and sons mothers
and daughter with a last memory of them waving goodbye.
There is too much blood and tears of fathers and sons mothers
and daughters being shed all in the name of peace.
God please let our leaders see how many families are dying
and that war can never bring peace. Only love can.
This prayer is my gun and God you’re the bullet I’m shooting
to end this Family of War.
Mothers And Daughters / Fathers And Sons
Neil Diamond - Mothers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons
And so they came with perfect schemes
And precious dreams that made them one
One by one
Oh, and there they stood lost in the haze
With spirits blazing like the sun
Mothers and daughters,
Fathers and sons
They held the light
Yes they did
And it shined all night
Oh, all night
And they took the blows
Yes they did
Never letting go
Oh no, oh no
Oh no
And so they came with perfect schemes
And precious dreams that made them one
One by one
Oh, look up and see the eagles fly
And fill the sky beneath the sun
Mothers and daughters,
Fathers and sons
You hold the light
Yes you do
And you've got the right
Oh, got the right
And you'll feel the blows
Yes you will
Don't you dare let go
Oh no, oh no
Said that we have the right
Yes we do
It's down in black and white
Oh oh, oh oh
And we made it so
Yes we did
And we won't let go
Oh no, oh no
song performed by by Neil Diamond

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one would be foolish enough to choose war over peace--in peace sons bury their fathers, but in war fathers bury their sons.
quote by Croesus of Lydia

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.
If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons.
quote by James A. Baldwin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons.
Son can be a rival/.
I taught my son lessons on singing
And made him with my sweats a great singer.
Sons’ glory is fathers’ glory.
His glory is my glory.
His wings spread and mine shrunk.
People thronged around him and spared me.
They didn’t say he was the great;
They said I was no where near him.
His glory is not my glory;
Sons’ glory is not fathers’ glory.
Can there be two heroes in a play?
Should he outlive me in the posterity?
He is my rival, no more a son.
11.02.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 02
A sage, instructing boys, said to them: ‘O darlings of your fathers, learn a trade because property and riches of the world are not to be relied upon; also silver and gold are an occasion of danger because either a thief may steal them at once or the owner spend them gradually; but a profession is a living fountain and permanent wealth; and although a professional man may lose riches, it does not matter because a profession is itself wealth and wherever he goes he will enjoy respect and sit in high places, whereas he who has no trade will glean crumbs and see hardships:
It is difficult to obey after losing dignity
And to bear violence from men after being caressed.
Once confusion arose in Damascus.
Everyone left his snug corner.
Learned sons of peasants
Became the veziers of padshahs.
Imbecile sons of the veziers
Went as mendicants to peasants.
If you wanted thy father’s inheritance, acquire his knowledge
Because this property of his may be spent in ten days.
Born Brothers
Equality is absolute or no.
Nothing between can stand. We are the sons
Of the same sire, or madness breaks and runs
Through the rude world. Ridiculous our woe
If single pity does not love it. So
Our separate fathers love us. No man shuns
His poorest child's embrace. We are the sons
Of such, or ground and sky are soon to go.
Nor do born brothers judge, as good or ill,
Their being. Each consents and is the same,
Or suddenly sweet winds turn into flame
And floods are on us--fire, earth, water, air
All hideously parted, as his will
Withdraws, no longer fatherly and there.
poem by Mark Van Doren

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I Cry, I Smile
Why do you cry my love?
I cry for the cruelty,
Hatred, anger and slaughter.
I cry for the pain and torture.
I cry for the loss and fear
And darkness.
I cry for you,
And I cry for me.
I cry for our fathers, mothers,
Daughters and sons.
I cry for everyone.
Why do you smile my love?
I smile for the sunshine,
The new day and the gentle rain.
I smile for love and change
And laughter.
I smile for the flowers,
The breeze in the haystack.
I smile for peace,
And joy and calm water.
I smile for you,
And I smile for me.
I smile for our fathers, mothers,
Daughters and sons.
I smile for everyone.
poem by John McAndrew

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Separation: A Father’s Lament
Ever heard the catch cry?
Of men fathers in agony?
Wrenching bitter torn heart felt why?
Seems to echo to cut depths eternity!
“She has taken
my sons from me! ”
“And I will forsaken
never forgive her! ”
She has taken
my blood bonded sons spitefully.
Hate cries shalt never
forgive is hurt vindictive stupidity.
Yet instantaneous moderation
is fruit of seasoned good will maturity.
Wisdom’s decree is peace
forged retained in harmonious perpetuity.
I will not fight this division war.
I will not settle irreconcilable score.
I will walk forlorn quietly away.
Although my sons for now must stay.
My sons will not know where I am today.
My sons will not know where I am tomorrow.
For I have left in deepest gloomy sorrow.
A new Heart and Life I cannot swiftly borrow.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 02
Two sons of amirs were in Egypt, the one acquiring science, the other accumulating wealth, till the former became the ullemma of the period and the other the prince of Egypt; whereon the rich man looked with contempt upon the faqih and said: ‘I have reached the sultanate whilst thou hast remained in poverty as before.’ He replied: ‘O brother, I am bound to be grateful to the most high Creator for having obtained the inheritance of prophets whilst thou hast attained the inheritance of Pharaoh and of Haman, namely the kingdom of Egypt.’
I am that ant which is trodden under foot
Not that wasp, the pain of whose sting causes lament.
How shall I give due thanks for the blessing
That I do not possess the strength of injuring mankind?
Mistrust
The mistrust spread over the world
Where does it first unfurl
From what cocoon does it uncurl
Do fathers mistrust mothers
Do mothers mistrust fathers
Do fathers mistrust sons
Do mothers mistrust daughters
Do we trust our own selves
If trust is not found at home
If mistrust is the legacy of home
Then what hope have we
That trust will be
Born into this place
Love of self and self alone
Brings to us this bone of mistrust
And enfleshes to its birth.
7/5/2009
poem by Claude H Oliver II

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Ride To Agadir
They rode in the morning
Casablanca to the west
On the atlas mountain foothills leading down to marakesh
For mohammed and morocco
We had taken up our guns
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
In the dry winds of summer
They were sharpening the blades.
They were riding to act upon the promise we had made.
With the fist and the dagger
With the rifle and the lance
We will suffer no intrusion from the infidels of france.
We will suffer no intrusion from the infidels of france.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
They could wait no more
In the burning sands on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Like the dogs of war
For the future of this land on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Though they were waiting
And they were fifty to our ten
They were easily outnumbered by a smaller force of men.
As the darkness was falling
They were soon to realize
We were going to relieve them of their god-forsaken lives.
We were going to relieve them of their god-forsaken lives.
They could wait no more
In the burning sands on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Like the dogs of war
For the future of this land on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
They rode in the morning
Casablanca to the west
On the atlas mountain foothills leading down to marakesh
For mohammed and morocco
We had taken up our guns
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
song performed by by Boney M.

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fathers
Our fathers all were poor,
Poorer our fathers' fathers;
Beyond, we dare not look.
We, the sons, keep store
Of tarnished gold that gathers
Around us from the night,
Record it in this book
That, when the line is drawn,
Credit and creditor gone,
Column and figure flown,
Will open into light.
Archaic fevers shake
Our healthy flesh and blood
Plumped in the passing day
And fed with pleasant food.
The fathers' anger and ache
Will not, will not away
And leave the living alone,
But on our careless brows
Faintly their furrows engrave
Like veinings in a stone,
Breathe in the sunny house
Nightmare of blackened bone,
Cellar and choking cave.
Panics and furies fly
Through our unhurried veins,
Heavenly lights and rains
Purify heart and eye,
Past agonies purify
And lay the sullen dust.
The angers will not away.
We hold our fathers' trust,
Wrong, riches, sorrow and all
Until they topple and fall,
And fallen let in the day.
poem by Edwin Muir

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Fathers Eyes
I may not be every mothers dream for her little girl,
And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.
But thats all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray:
When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,
Shes got her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that find the good in things,
When good is not around;
Eyes that find the source of help,
When help just cant be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,
Good and bad theyll all be had to see by everyone.
And when youre called to stand and tell just what you saw in me,
More than anything I know, I want your words to be,
She had her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that found the good in things,
When good was not around;
Eyes that found the source of help,
When help would not be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
song performed by by Amy Grant

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prayer Prompt Psalm 45: God Bless Us All
GOD bless leaders of nations
God bless all workers
God bless golden sunshine
God bless seasons of time
God bless fathers and mothers
God bless sons and daughters
God bless whole earth and sky
God bless our lives, and till we die.
Thank you, dear God.
poem by Rose Flores Rosevoc2

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