I wanted to share my life story and honor my roots. I am very proud of my family and mother.
quote by Rocco DiSpirito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
So Called Story
Harsh words,
spillling over,
warning the loving daughter.
Hurtful words,
telling the daughter
a one-sided story,
of a tale of deception.
Mother did wrong,
by blaming the father.
By pinning it all on
the new victim of his love.
Choosing to leave the daughter,
Choosing to leave the mother,
Choosing to leave the dear family behind him.
Moving on with a new life
to start again.
Forgetting all that was
Such a sad story to tell the daughter
who never wanted to know.
The secrets behind the new loving family.
Never knowing the truth.
This so called story
is all she now knows.
of the ending of times
between mother and father.
poem by Nicole Gehrman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prophets Without Honor
You may be a prophet without honor, in the home of an earthly father,
Mocked by a sister or a brother, also, misunderstood by your mother.
From the family you grew up in, you are now divided by Truth and sin,
For God’s Truth, in which you now abide, puts you on a different side.
Now, you have a Heavenly Father, who, with your life, you now honor,
And brothers and sisters in Christ, who support you, in your New Life.
Regarding old sin, we walk away, regardless what our family may say,
Striving together to do what’s right, hand in hand in our Savior’s Light.
With no honor from our own family, still living, just like we used to be,
Without the indwelling Holy Spirit, they’ll scoff at Truth as they hear it.
And only the Spirit can open the eyes, of those who claim to be wise,
So instead of twisting Truth they hear, they’d be filled with a holy fear.
Friend, a prophet is one whom God, uses while upon this earthly sod,
To share God’s Truth with all men, in a world, that stands condemned.
But, a prophet’s family may not heed, the saving Truth that they need,
As your witness for Christ our Lord, by your family, just goes ignored.
Friend that is why we need to pray, thus backing all the words we say,
So that all of the seeds we sow, will take root in their hearts and grow.
This, so that your natural family, will acknowledge the God of Eternity,
And then join us as a prophet of, Christ our Savior, who reigns above.
(Copyright ©09/2008)
My Family
My family will forever be in my heart,
My sister's mean the world to me,
More than life,
All I ever wanted was a complete family,
To have a mother whom I never met,
My family will always remain who they are in my heart and soul,
My family is more important than my friends and my lover,
Family will always come first,
Family is family,
No matter what they did they'll always remain family.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Story Of My Life
The story of my life
is very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave
The story of my life
begins and ends with you
the names are still the same
and the story's still the truth
I was alone
you found my waiting
and made me your own
I was afraid
that somehow I never could be
the man that you wanted of me
You're the story of my life
and every word is true
each chapter sings your name
each page begins with you
It's the story of our times
and never letting go
and if I die today
I wanted you to know
Stay with my here
share with me care with me
stay and be near
and when it began
I'd lie awake every night
just knowing somewhere deep inside
that our affair just might write
The story of my life
it's so very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Letter from the Sand 'Be Proud
Today I received a letter from the sand. It read Dear Sir, we regret to inform you that your brother Sgt. Andre Smith was killed two days ago in Iraq, but be proud he died a hero. Now I must read that letters a hundred times but pride never came over me but anger did. Anger that got me asking questions like is proud of what, that my big brother is no longer here? Or should I be proud that they turned my caring brother into murder all under the false flag of freedom? Be proud, I am proud and I was always proud not because Andre died as hero but I am proud because he was my brother.
Note:
This poem is not a true story. Now although my brother Andre did past away he did not die that way, but I wanted to honor him so I used his name in a poem the relates to current affairs
Abuse And The Aftermath
So now I walk these loney streets
My family, they cannot dry these tears
Nor give, rest for these tired feet
Nor calm these ever present fears
For I have seen that life
Which gave those tainted hearts
And guile which makes every thing gray
And so alone in life, I seek too start anew
I look for a new way
I wanted my family to know that
And that
Life goes on no matter what
And that These truths cannot be quelled
For true memories and true love are
Never to be forgot
For within my heart they'll always dwell
So I keep walking, some lonely street
I keep searching, to find a-way
And every night as I start troubled sleep
Love's promise, for me tomorrow... tomorrow will
Be a better day
And so I awake and I start anew
Knowing that my love
Will always be there...for you
Now these words I give to honor
So that my family may share
I just wanted them to know
How much I really did care
And for love, I'd go back there
and I'd rexperience all that pain
I'd do-it in a moment
If all your love I could gain
For you are my real and only family
And this I can never forget
Nor depart
For true love, is true love
And true love will never leave
Even from me, and this broken heart
poem by Clyde Bryson
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My mother, whose family was heavily rabbinic, said she wanted me to continue the family tradition in the rabbinate. My father said he wanted me to be a scholar of the Talmud, but he wanted me to make my living in science.
quote by Norman Lamm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feet First
i came into this world feet first
they told my mother
out of her three sons, i would be the one
always on the run.
i'd go through life without a care
the thoughts i had, i would not share.
i never stood around long enough for
anyone to get close to me
for too much pain i did see.
i joined the army, so i would not be
close to any family.
little did i know that my thoughts would change
and from here on, i would never be the same.
i played the field with all the girls
and told them whatever they wanted to hear.
but i also made it quite clear
that i was a man on the run
and not be put under the gun.
i was like the wind, here one minute and
gone the next, and i would not be a sacrificial test.
til the day that i went to the company dance
and glanced across the floor.
there she stood proud as can be
just as if she was waiting for me.
i walked across the floor like a fox
waiting for its prey.
she looked at me, and told me to go away.
astounded, dumbfounded, i could not believe.
i did this to others, not them to me.
i sucked in the air and put out my chest
of me she would not get the best.
i walked over to her again and asked her to dance
she looked at me and said 'not a chance'
my friends tell me that you're always on the run
but with me, you will have no fun.
i was born feet first just like you
but at least i knew what to do.
i know when to slow down and make it last
i don't dwindle on the past.
you're getting older and it's time
to settle down
but not one, with whom you've found.
because you have seen a lot of pain
does'nt mean that everyones the same.
open your heart so that you could see
all the beauty thats within me.
i apologized and asked if we could
start from scratch
for my ways i had to patch.
we started it off very slow
and i knew i had a long way to go.
but if i had her by my side
everything would turn out fine.
i told my family what i found.
and that i was settling down.
then i said to my family:
this is a comical, egotistical story
there is no fame, there is no glory.
i came out on the run, and now i'm
enjoying life, and having fun.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What'll We Do For Christmas?
What'll we do for Christmas? A child said to her Mother,
Shall we have a christmas party, cake and ice cream too;
With lots of balloons and streamers, and a star as well,
But; the mother said, give to an orphan, a Christmas bell,
Then tell them to come for tea, tell them the Christmas story;
This is what God wants us to do, to share with our family
What'll we do for Christmas, said a boy to His father,
Can we have a holiday, and take our things I'd rather;
Buy some good things to eat, and help my grandmother,
But the father said lets invite, a poor man or lady to tea,
Shower them with kindness, as we have plenty;
This is what God wants us to do, show love from you and me.
What'll we do for Christmas said children to their teacher,
Shall we have a Christmas concert, and ask the preacher;
And invite our family, and all our friends as well too,
The teacher said 'twas a great idea, the Christmas story true;
About Mary and Joseph, and Jesus born in a stable,
But remember the story is so true, it isn't just a fable.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hey MOM
Mother, just wanted to say,
I love you, I do care
Mother just wanted to ask,
Why you look so tired so weathered
Mother just wanted to know
How you make ends meet
Mother just wanted to tell
You are an angel and I’m blessed
Arjun Singh Kishtwaria
Mother you just made me see
The difference between want and a need
Mother why do you cry
When I see you happy when you smile
Mother why do you deny
The pain I gave and tears you cry
Mother I know deep in your eyes
A grief that lives and a child that cries.
Holding your fingers I’ve learnt to walk
Footprints you left is all I’ve to follow
I owe more than a life to you
For now wanna say. I miss U! ! !
poem by Arjun Kishtwaria
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Family
(tom eyen/henrey kreiger)
Is it a beautiful day? youre beautiful!
I mentioned earlier that the world is watching each of you. you make me so proud Im the happiest woman in the world right now. I have a dream come true.
I want you to listen to me now. this is being televised again worldwide today. just calm yourselves, come on. alright.
Can you feel me?
Yes, this may be the most important moment in my life.
There are words in this song that to me are very special listen.
Its more than you
Its more than me
No matter what we are
We are a family
This dream is for us
This one can be real
They cant stop us now
Because of how we feel
Its more than you
Its more than me
Whatever dreams we have
Theyre for the family
Were not alone any more then
There are others there
And this dreams big enough
For all of us to share
So dont think youre going
Were not going anywhere
Were staying, taking our share
If you get afraid again
Ill be there
We are a family
Like a giant tree
Branching out towaards the sky
We are a family
And so much more
Than just you and i
We are a family
Like a giant tree
Growing strong
Growing wiser
We are
We are
A family
I love you
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leo And Honey Bird
u like to be a leo man
but i like to be a honey bird
i am honey bird
iam honey bird
may u are strong
may u are tough
but the little bird
is too smart too
and u are alone
and u never care
but this happy bird
has many friends
the life is to share
the life is too short
let we share this short
to share within love
then we are proud
to share our home
with the little bird
not with u -leo no
although u in share
with us in the earth
i am not proud
how we are alone
but about honey bird
we are all
proud
aboutthe little bird.
poem by Sallam Yassin
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Dearest Dad
What better occasion than Father's Day to write to express how proud I am of you and to thank you from the bottom of my heart for being such a wonderful father. You have always been there when I needed your advice, encouragement or a well-deserved kick in the pants.
I thank God for so many good things that have happened in my life. I have no doubt that none of them would have been possible without your guiding influence. I am confident in my abilities. This confidence was surely nurtured in my early years by your guiding hand.
You have always been the model of the kind of father I have wanted to be. I have tried to live up to your high standards of honesty and openness. Though I have made my share of mistakes as a dad, I am proud that both Erika and Sasha exhibit many of the fine qualities that you taught me.
Each day seems to pass by a little faster. I can't believe that your first little boy is now 61 years old. As I reflect on my life and the wonderful family experiences, I can't recall even one bad memory…except maybe for good ol' Betsy, your belt.
I am as excited about seeing you next week as I was at Marquette University after the finals were over. The pure sense of love and giving that you represent, dearest Dad, is a rare commodity these days. As rare as the wonderful family you have created.
Dad, you're as fine as they come in every respect. I thank you and God
everyday for allowing me to be a part of your life. I love you so very mu
Your proud, and at the same time humble son, Greg
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Story Of My Life
Words and music by neil diamond
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
And ends the day you leave
The story of my life begins and ends with you
The names are still the same
And the storys still the truth
I was alone.
You found me waiting and made me your own
I was afraid
That somehow I never could be a man that you wanted of me
Youre the story of my life, and every word is true
Each chapter sings your name
Each page begins with you
Its the story of our times and never letting go
If I die today, I wannted yo to know
Stay with me here
Share with me, care with me
Stay and be near
And when it began Id lie awake every night
Just knowing somewhere deep inside
That our affair just might write
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
It ends the day you leave
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Right Man for the Job
Let me give myself to you.
I wish to hang upon a cross.
Let my ways of old be gone.
And rejoice in all my loss.
It was you that died for the sins of all.
And it was sin that you became.
I feel it would be my honor Lord.
To share our savior’s name.
He was the greatest of men on earth.
For the suffering he bared.
For the honor of the one that loved so much.
His pain I vow to share.
My life, I give it all to you.
For one day I’ll see His face.
I will hug the one who saved us all.
With His mercy and His grace.
Til’ I met you Lord, I did not know.
A love that was so strong.
I was lost and looked for a place to fit.
Now I’ve found where I belonged.
So if I can help, save one more soul.
Then I know Your Will be done.
If you need a man to fill the job.
It’s my honor to be the one.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Stories Of Hope Series #11 Adopted Child
The child was brought into this world
By an un wanting mother, did not have
any family, no sisters, no brothers.
But was adopted from birth by a woman
Who was seeking a child, and didn’t
Have any of her own for quite awhile.
This child was loved, like he could never know
Because as a mother her love she did show.
Never had a need or want for anything in life
Never knew about the mothers struggles or strife.
The child at times would question as to why
he was from a one parent family.
She told him that it was the way she wanted it to be.
She loved this child more than life itself
And in her heart this child would dwell.
Then one day before high school graduation
He had needed papers of when and where
He was born documentation.
He knew his mother kept the important
Papers in a metal box- which was always kept locked.
He found the key to the box, and opened it
Up with care, and with his mother the reason
He would share.
He found an envelope dated 1/29/92
Which was his birth date, that much he knew.
He opened the envelope and saw the heading
“ certificate of birth” on the first paper he took out.
As he opened it up and started to read
Where it said parents names, was blank as can be.
He waited for his mother to get home
And then the papers would be shown.
When she got home he asked her why there was no names?
She put her head down and said: she was to blame.
You see: you was left on the hospital steps
With a note attached to you blanket saying:
“She could not take care of you
And this was the best that she could do.”
Being a nurse in that hospital, I fell in love with you
And I went through the process to adopt you.
I have loved you from the start, and you’ve
Filled my soul and heart.
No one can love you more than I
And I will love you till the day I die.
The tears started rolling down her face
And he kissed her tears away.
He said: you are the only mother I have ever known
And because of you, I have a family.
“ that could never change for me”.
I’m so sorry that I never told you my son
And for any hurt that I may have done.
I just wanted to protect you
That is all I wanted to do.
They both shed their tears, and comforted their fears.
He said: I decided that I would go to the court of records
And change it for all to see, that you are
The only mother for me.
On his birth certificate they attached a stipulation
Which read: this woman became his mother from
The moment that he was found
And this case has become world renown.
Because of the hope she had in her heart
Her and her son got a brand new start.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOURSELF FREE
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Just When
Lord I want You
In my life
Not just when I need You
Lord I want You
In my life
Not just when I am confused
Not just when I am crying
Not just when I feel like
I am dying
Not just when I feel I am all alone
Not just when my life is going wrong
Lord I want You in my life
For always
When things are going right
To share my happiness
To share my children
To share my family
To share my friends
To share my victories
To share my love
To share my money
So when I feel the need
To call on you every now and then
You will know that it's coming
From a friend! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Tameeka Smith
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A Girl That I Met
I met her down streets one evening,
She was coming out of what she calls home,
Where she had left a family,
That is her responsibility,
To provide all the necessities.
She’s a mother and a father,
To the two younger girls at home,
For their parents had passed away,
About four years ago from the disease,
Then she should take care of the family.
There’s no uncles and aunts for them,
All they did was to sweep away everything,
Cars, estates, houses and everything,
Leaving the kids with concrete poverty,
And the children are now suffering.
I asked that orphaned girl how she managed,
To feed the family at her age under eighteen,
She started crying but she dared to tell me,
The story of her everyday life,
The story that keeps on torturing my mind.
She sells drugs down streets every day,
Then selling her body downtown every night,
Making sure she earns something,
To be back with at home for the family to survive,
Family needs shelter, food and clothes.
poem by Fadhy Mtanga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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the smooth life of G.E.
Every picture is see is what you describe
as perfect. A new baby for the family. The mother
looks and smiles. The proud father begs to
carry the baby even for a few minutes.
There were pictures of the marriage.
Black and white, old as the ancestral house
where the big family once lived.
There is this garden full of perennial flowers
It is as though your life is nothing but Spring.
Nothing of the winter
Neither the autumn.
Summer is well spent. The grandchildren
are not sickly and grandpa is not drinking any liquor.
The house is well kept. Every object is in order.
The chickens have always the correct feeds.
The cow is fat and the turkeys are ready for Christmas.
Sometimes i think
I must be envious.This is not my family.
What i had was messy.
I need not tell anybody.
But on the other hand,
I think that something so ideal cannot be true.
Like a fairytale.
Like a story fit for kids...ending
with And they all live happily ever after.
That is not really true.
That is just an illusion.
I go for something that i have.
The tears wet my pockets.
The novel is too interesting.
The hero falls and dies.
The tragedy like the one written
By Sophocles
always give me that
catharsis.
Not yours. Not your family.
Not your success.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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