My parents always told me that if you want something, you can do whatever you have to do to get it. As long as it's not against someone else.
quote by Marion Cotillard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Conflicting Idealism!
When mother had put on the dress to me,
She told me not to let anyone to remove that,
When I became slightly older, she gave me,
The long skirts and blouses to wear,
Then the sarees of various materials, color and designs,
Filled my closets, I used to run around,
When I was young and then I was advised,
To walk slowly without making any noise,
Though the anklets, the parents had worn,
Around my ankles always made the ringing tone,
For them to know where I was,
From wherever they were,
Mother advised me to sleep on the side,
And for my every sneeze she arrived with pride,
To cover my exposed joined feet and to correct,
A few strand on the face and smiled,
A well educated man whom my parents and relatives loved,
tied the three knots to make me his wife.
This is the guy, who asks me to do,
What my parents prevented me to do.
This is the guy that my parents respect the most,
And advise me to listen and obey whatever he says.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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In the '60s, parents were told to let their teens rebel, explore their boundaries. Increasingly the same message is being given to the parents of tweens.
quote by Maggie Gallagher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So William Is Not Dying
i have long told
you, a poem is
detached from
the poet
the stranger
talking to you
might have
been
talking about
another
stranger too
be detached
like
a mirror
and yet
so immersed
in the
image of your
own face
the realities
we write
are lies
behind
the realities
of others
william
has just told
you
the reality
of death
and he pretended
it was him
in that coffin
surrounded by
friends, parents
and children
and lovers
could be just
all in his mind
but the truth
has been told
and you
received them
fairly verily
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Long to See Home
I sit here and listen
to each story told
and hear of tropical island breeze
that make the palm trees
sway in its wake
and white beachs glemming
Where the waves
lap against its shores
I long to see
were I can place my hand
and run sand in my hand
seeing the deep blue lagoons
that hide the oceans life
Taste the fruits
that are abundance galore
to see the colours of rainbows
of flowers that spread
across its shores
I sit and sigh
and think will I see
those wonderful sites
Will I see the beauty
of the home were
my parents use to roam
as children of old
and hear the legends
being told by the camp fire site
Will I ever get to see
the moon shine its light
by the beautiful shores
of my parents home
Will I ever see their home
I sigh with a dreamy eye
thinking one day I just might
poem by Kaila George
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Adopted
i was adopted at my birth, they paid my mother
what they thought it was worth. (medical bills)
she said that she could not care for me
she was too young and wanted to be free.
i was raised by two adoptive parents
who had loved me from the start.
and swore they would never break my heart.
they gave me all that i could want or desire
and their love grew like a flaming fire.
they were always honest with me
and they told me about my mothers plight
and with her parents, she did fight.
in her mind:
she knew that her mother had to give her away
but in her heart, she did pray.
mother! why did'nt you fight to keep me?
everyone is struggling in this economy.
you left without a sign or trace
and i want so much to see your face.
my loving adoptive parents told me from the start
that you had left, but with a broken heart.
every night i have a vision of you in my mind
and you're crying and asking why.
i've gotten permission to finally meet you
i'm so scared, i don't know what to do.
how will i react? what will i say?
so to the LORD i will pray.
when we finally met, we both broke down.
but they were tears of joy and happiness
that a mother and daughter share.
she kissed me and wiped away my tear.
she told me that it was the smartest move she made
for your adoptive parents, love you
more than words can say.
now i have two mothers with whom
i could share my love, and it was given
to me from the LORD up above.
poem by Louis Rams
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29
Last night I woke up
'I should call my parents, ' thought-
my parents long dead.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Children's role after you:
Birthday: parents to children;
Death anniversary: children to parents;
Marriage: parents for children;
Funeral: children for parents;
Others for these have no right;
Others for these are unfit.
Parents must have these in mind
When they write the will.
15.04.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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Cat in bed (real expirience)
It was vaccation time and
I was very happy.
I played all day picking,
dolls on their noses and throwing them
Just like a strong man.
And the computer
it got the fever and I got the scoldings!
My parents send me early to bed.
Just when it was 8
I resisted the most to my parents
But then lost resisting to them
I went to bed with a long face
Determined not to sleep,
My brother looked me with a sly smile
My parents switched off the light
And said good night.
It was dark in the room and I
Saw a dark figure having looks of a cat
Just beside me on.
My very own bed
I was puzzled as
there was no cat in the house
And when I touched it,
Oh! It felt like fur,
Coward me screamed like anything
And my parents came rushing along,
And they put on the lights and I saw
Lying beside me on my bed
Was a cat-like doll
And there was my brother on the floor
Purring just like a cat!
poem by Athul KrishnaA
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Be there an introspection
Parents type I:
You feed the dog;
It guards the yard.
You pay the maid;
She is your aid.
Bone and flesh,
Parents gave you.
Without their nod
You flee with a lad.
You are ungrateful;
Parents are indignant.
Parents type II:
Plants give flowers
For bees to hover.
Moon sends light
For lovers to delight.
Cow yields calf.
Calf selects the bull.
Your bone and flesh-
Out of parents’ blush.
Give bone and flesh,
With one you wish.
Your joy parents cherish.
They have no remorse.
Which parents are you-
The one demanding a return
Or the one retaining the love?
22.11099
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Shouldn't A Told You That
Well he told me that he was tired of being good
And he told me that she don't treat him like she should
Well he told me when he'd be alone he told me how long she'd be gone
I'm only human
He shouldn't-a told me that
Well she told me that her man was really fine
Makes her sorry that she doesn't have more time
Well she laughed and told me how she gets a little bit just now and then
I'm only human
She shouldn't-a told me that
My doctor tells me I should get more exercise
My friends tell me to be alone is so unwise
I'm being good but I don't know for how long
Temptation is comin' on strong
Well I told you that I saw him yesterday
Very sexy, more than that I cannot say
And just before I said goodbye I told him with a little sigh
I'm only human
I shouldn't-a told him that
My doctor tells me I should get more exercise
My friends tell me to be alone is so unwise
I'm being good but I don't know for how long
Temptation is comin' on strong
Well I told you that I saw him yesterday
Very sexy, more than that I cannot say
And just before I said goodbye I told him with a little sigh
I'm only human
I shouldn't-a told him that
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Foster children
Foster parents they lived happily
until the twins became an adolescents.
The boys who came to know their pedigree
from the mealy mouths.
They changed their attitudes
and grumbled with these innocent parents.
No respect for them at all.
Foster parents are in a dilemma
and they promised to each other
not to tell the truth.
How can they tell them
that their father is the pauper who begs at the cathedral gate
and the mother who's a wrongdoer at the old barracks.
Who knows how long they can hide this pathetic story
to this prodigal sons Cane and Abel?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Briefs 6
The Universe is neither good nor bad-
Good is mere cultural consensus
And what is profitable for you to think or do
As a member of a group
With an assigned role therein.
Good is what your parents told you was good.
Good is what your peers told you was good.
Good is what the Press told you was good.
Good is what your payer tells you is good
Good is what you wouldn't know was good
Had you not been told, for good is expediency.
And whatever determines the best chance of getting paid.
And if you can clothe expediency with idealogy, oh my-
Then you've really got something!
Good unallied with expediency? Well,
'Do unto others' is still the best code
for the man who wants to do the right thing.
Using this code you cannot go wrong.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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To keep the bond
Parents spend on children,
And children, on parents later.
These are not debts.
Parents scold children,
And children, parents later.
These are not scars.
Roots and shoots together
Have thetr Profit and Loss Account.
23.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet: Who Tends to Old-aged Parents?
A daughter’s like a flow’r that’s sometimes plucked,
From the plant- the family, suddenly;
And parents feel their sap/ blood has been sucked,
Off from their veins in a manner truly.
The son is like a flow’r that stays for long;
Adorning well the family-plant till late;
A part of his parents’ old-aged sad song;
Who’s expected to suff’rings mitigate.
Son or daughter in a small family-norm!
The parents feel the losses both are great;
Their separations come in life like storm!
But none can ever circumvent this fate.
So, who looks after parents in old age?
’Tis anyone who truly- my message!
6-17-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Wholeheartedly
Wholeheartedly, old, yowl, drew, tree, three, hate, lad;
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh;
That it may be well with you,
And that, you may live long on this earth.
Wholeheartedly, whole, hole, woe, where, he, rate, lead;
With instructions in the land of your muse,
But try to be very obedient to all!
Wholeheartedly, heart, dear, read, red, ear, year, ware;
With peace and love in the land of joy!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, are, weed, wed, late, date, wear, doll;
With songs of love and works of peace,
But, try to be very obedient to all in this life.
Wholeheartedly, hold, told, wheat, war, raw, draw;
And like the muse of your love in the land of the living!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, hoe, heat, het, her, had, head, well, led;
And like your works as seen by all!
But, try to be very obedient to the people around you.
Wholeheartedly, lay, ray, tray, day, at, deer, reed, tear;
And like the joy of your muse with others at home! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Wholeheartedly, heed, heard, world, word, rod, era, rode;
With the muse of the world and the works of your love,
But try to obey others in the land of your muse.
Wholeheartedly, toe, doe, do, to, hare, here, thread, art, thee;
Learn from the right people always to motivate yourselves!
For life is full of laws which are needed by all of us.
Wholeheartedly, yard, hew, threw, low, rat, yell, tar, how?
And like the sweet songs of the lovely birds up high! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Instruction,
Entreaty,
Boldly,
Obligation;
Children, obey your parents!
And, honour your father and your mother.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A daughter loves her parents more than a son
A daughter loves her parents more than a son
But parents love their son more than their daughter,
After his marriage a son becomes a wicked person,
Then a son loves his wife more then his parents,
Over heard by his wife he pushes his parents out of home,
None gives them shelter in their old age except GOD,
Daughter will pity on them and she will welcome,
As they sow so shall they reap the crops,
Every one should be careful for action- re-action of life,
Today we disobey our parents tomorrow our sons re-act so,
Hence we face the same journey of our life's strife,
If we take care of our parents the same God will do,
We surely get what we do in the kingdom of God,
Carefully with guilt and virtue God has made a bod.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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As Parents To Our Parents
They never teach you this at school;
they'll try to teach you reading, writing, 'rithmetic
in their own instructed ways;
but now, if anyone suggested it, there'd be howls
about the impertinence, the interference,
the rights, the dangers of this and that -
but all the same, they never teach you:
how to get on with your parents.
Oh there are books and books and books
telling your parents how to look after you, but hey!
there are two parties here! Mom and Dad
can ask their own parents (sometimes - because they
were in the same situation as you are now and so,
reckon they can do a better job...) but
who can you, ask?
Philip Larkin told us memorably that
'they f*** you up, your Mum and Dad',
which may not be the case for all of us;
Hindus have their own stern answer to this question:
you chose them, in effect, as the result
of your behaviour in your previous life...so there,
work with that, kiddo, could be
the making of you...stop blaming it all on them!
So there you are, in this heated cauldron of love and hate, or
like sharp stones shaken in this bag called family
until the rough edges wear (each other) away and
those smooth round pebbles roll out to the world...
but perhaps a little help wouldn't hurt?
I was exactly four and a half when I told the truth about something,
since I didn't know any other way; and as my parents' voices
rose in argument about 'knowing what was best for me',
(I remember the moment now, so clear) I turned my back
on this so painful sound, faced the 'wireless' on the chest of drawers,
and decided there and then
that grown-ups made such a fuss when you told the truth
that it would be better not to - at least, until
they grew up a bit... and there, went half a lifetime
of prevarication, dodging the question, fantasy: never tell the truth
until you're sure they really, really want to hear it...
Then when I was eleven or thereabouts
(and again, I remember exactly where I was standing
at the time - the bottom of the stairs)
the solemn thought 'entered my head':
that in some way I knew but couldn't quite explain,
I was in the position, had some duty,
to take care, in some thoughtful way, of the minds of those
my parents...
But they didn't teach that at my school.
love, I knew all about; but
parents? Aren't they strange? They try so hard, too...
and no, I don 't need 'counselling', thanks -
I'd rather keep it in the family. All I'm asking
is, a few lessons, maybe? I'd even do
the homework.
XXX love you both XXX
poem by Michael Shepherd
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It took us a long time to find out that we had been lied to by our parents' generation. The moralities that were followed during our parents' generation were basically arbitrary. This caused a rift between the two generations, which was brought on by the beatniks.
quote by Peter Fonda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curious George
Meeting George for the very first time,
at the play entitled “Zombies Come To Life”.
He was sitting in the aisle,
I told him to sit by me and then I smiled.
George believed in me and my art,
he told my parents from the start.
He knew I was talented and smart.
He was like a Dad I never had,
“George helped me which I’m glad.”
I am appreciative more then you know,
he got me to Florida and a trip to Mexico.
Now George told me some time ago,
“Finish your book series
and then you will make
your rainbow of gold.”
poem by Christina Sunrise
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