I wasn't really aware that my father was working for quite a while. I thought it was my mother who had all the money!
quote by Peter Fonda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Earn money
Gran father money
Father money
Mother money
Brother money
Sister money
Friends money
All moneyees are
Others only others...
Don't loves other moneys
On the way of life
Love your money...
Enjoy your money
Earn your won money...
Each every day you and others...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Money world love
My dear father...
Hoe r you...?
I am hear is not fine...!
So...
I want money
send me for money
Don't tell about mother...
ok...
My kisses with you...!
Your dear son...(ramesh)
This is letter for my father
My brother was wrote
At student time...
My father send the money
For my brother
That time
My father understand
Love is making money...
My brother thinking
Money is my lovely father...
How is money world love...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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As Long as Mr Eddington Was There.
You think more
of Mr Eddington
her father said
than almost
anything else
and she knew she did
but her father drew the line
at her having him in her bed
and her mother
wasn't so keen either
I don't want cat's hairs
on the pillowcases
or on those sheets
or blankets
and so Mr Eddington
had to stay out
of her bed
and be content
to sit by the window
or on the window ledge
or on the small carpet
by the chest of drawers
and don't feed
the darn cat
at the table
her father said
it isn't polite
to have cat's spittle
on your hands
while eating
and so she sat
on the chair
with one foot
on the stool
in that
I don't give
a damn pose
and Mr Eddington
sat himself
comfortably
by the stool
and she sang him
one of those
Rock and Roll songs
she liked or recited
an Ezra Pound poem
which her father disliked
or she put her hands
behind her head
and whistled part
of an Elvis Presley song
which her mother said
wasn't ladylike at all
and to sit like that
her father said
with your leg up
with underclothes showing
is just not on at all
now sit like a lady
would sit
he said
and there were times
Jezebel thought
she wished them
both dead
so long as Mr Eddington
was there
she just didn't care.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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Not There
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
He was the kind to prioritize
His own affairs.
Often he was defended...
By a mother who pretended,
He was just away on 'leave'
And will return when that purpose ended!
But those in his care,
Felt he was the one not aware.
He was not there...
And that is all they knew!
Unless he was a magician?
And 'that' he wasn't around,
To deny or prove!
He wasn't absent!
He was just not there.
To watch,
Or to lay...
A footprint down on the ground!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Rednecks unite!
My father is my brother
My sister, with three ears,
Is his significant other.
My sister is my mother
And somehow, also my brother
My father's father am I
The vile thought makes me shudder.
Grandma was a mule,
Grandfather's sperm, she used as fuel
A french aristrocrat,
Made love to my mother, for he prefered his women fat
A letter written for my eyes
Containing news of demine
Said my true mother was some other
And my father, not her brother.
Jubilant and joyous,
My wife is what used to by my sister.. Or brother?
poem by Thy Mother
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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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My father was a very unhappy person, very sarcastic, and my mother was very nervous and worried about what people thought. They weren't monsters, but it wasn't a good childhood.
quote by Paula Danziger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funerals are a Festival
An old lady was dead. She was my father’s
Mother’s elder sister, who brought him up
After his mother’s death when he was at seven.
I went with him to attend the funeral.
Then I was fifteen; no sadness engulfed;
Not aware how much it engulfed my father.
My funeral will be a festival to
Most who would come there for connections.
21.01.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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To be fanatic
Mother is a Christian, father, an Islam,
Mother’s mother, a Jain,
Mothers father, a Buddhist,
Father’s mother a Saivite,
Father’s father a Vaishnavite,
And their forefathers none,
Which religion must I be fanatic of?
24.10.2009
[saivites = followers of God Siva;
Vaishnavites = followers of God Krishna]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Little Big Man
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Family Man
My father was a weird figure, sat under a bridge
with a bottle, in a paper bag, looked at the river.
I think he was looking for something he had lost
when he was young. When he had sat there long
my mother, sent me to pick him up. Father never
spoke it was like he had given up on conversation.
At work he was known as the silent man. When he
retired his employers wanted to give him a watch,
for long service, but he didn´t show up preferred
to sit under a bridge with his bottle. One day when
I came to pick him up, he wasn´t there but was found
floating down streams. My father was a dreamer,
he had wanted to be an actor before he married,
mother thought that was a stupid idea, instead he
got a steady job at a factory making plastic ducks
and garden gnomes. When knowing this I mourned
a man who gave everything up for his family.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Company C E O
A company C E O and seen as a success in life
But he beats his children and he beats his wife
And for his young mistress he buys a good time
But these things when you are wealthy are not seen as a crime
That money does speak every language in his case does apply
To be a good husband and father he does not even try
He may not be a good husband and father but that seems okay
As money more about you it seems more does say
Than compassion or kindness or morality can
He is seen as a good and a successful person though an immoral man
Far from a nice person though a millionaire
And that money speaks every language he is all too aware
Far from a good husband and father but never the less
He is a big Corporation C E O and seen as a success.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The most surprising thing for my mother and father was when I was actually earning more money than them by the time I was about 18. They thought I was going to be the ne'er do well, who they'd have to keep worrying about.
quote by Diane Cilento
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father's Persistence
Was there rain coming down that day?
I really can't remember.
My mother says it was cold and dreary
on that day in December.
Was I welcomed onto this earth
as I took my first breath in?
My father wanted a boy to raise.
Should I have stayed where I had been?
Gradually he accepted a little girl
and held me on his knee.
He played LP records for hours
and I inhaled the harmony.
My mother says he was obsessed with this
and thought I should be left alone.
But his persistence through my first two years
paid off with each new tone.
By age four I was playing the piano
and my father praised God.
My mother was surprised I guess.
But she thought me rather odd.
My happiest childhood memories
was playing whatever I'd heard.
My father was deliriously happy.
My mother thought it absurd.
Most of my youth went so fast.
Most of it I can't remember,
just like the part about rain coming down
on that cold dreary day in December.
But the thing I remember the most now
was my father's pride and joy
that I was born a girl instead of a baby boy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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When I was younger, my whole sense of self-worth was based on whether or not I was working, which was awful. And I had a baby at 20 years old, so it wasn't just about me. At around the age of 30 there was a stretch where I wasn't working - certainly not on anything I liked, anyway - and I started to do other things.
quote by Kiefer Sutherland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daddy Please Don't Hurt Mommy
A little girl stood crying as the father beat the mother,
next to the girl stood her older sister, and older brother.
Alcohol was the demon that drove the beating hand,
the mother bruised, and sobbing cowards from the man.
Why does daddy do that thought the little girl?
Oh how I hate my father, he's the worst person in the world.
The mother now alone in the bedroom with a razor above her wrist.
'Please mommy don't do it, ' the youngest child did persist.
The father starves the mother, three days in a row,
the little girl hates her father, yet the father is too drunk to know.
Is alcohol the problem or does there exist more?
The little girl's answer comes from her sobbing mother lying hurt on the cold, hard floor.
poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
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