My mother said, Don't worry abot what people think now. Think about whether your children and grandchildren will think you've done well.
quote by Lord Mountbatten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Peom For K. (The Banker With All The Conflicting Interests)
i shall now write
a poem for my happiest day,
it is all about an old, scheming and fraudulent
woman
stacking all her money and the money of the other
people
inside her room
inside her house and inside
her bigger storehouses
she says
these are all for her children
and grandchildren and the children
of all her grandchildren and
all the coming children of more
grandchildren & great great grandchildren
what is mad about this is
that she is taking the money due
to other people who are hungry and innocent
and gullible
but she is a very
wise woman and she gets what she wants
she gets what she all wants
practically everything that her hands can
hold her eyes can see
perhaps
forgetting that soon she will be
made to pay for the price of her greed
and avarice and dirty schemes and
foul techniques and it will be for all
her children and grandchildren and the children
of all her grandchildren and
all the coming children of more
grandchildren all the coming children of more
great grandchildren &
great great grandchildren
...and then justice shall reign
but when it comes
i shall not see this event anymore
but i will be happy
>>>ii
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I have never experienced being madly in love the way most people seem to have been, although it is not something I would miss. Instead I have had an enormous ability to love my children and my grandchildren and my great grandchildren.
quote by Astrid Lindgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Gave Birth in a Fox-Hole
Victoria Elizabeth Borg
Born June 22,1920 in Agana, Guam
Died Pearl Harbor Day 2009
Victoria sang many lullabies
to her
5 children
5 step-children
26 grandchildren
36 great grandchildren
2 great-great grandchildren
and a host of heavenly nieces and nephews.
She was married to Tomas T. Calvaron and his 5 children
on the island of Guam in 1943.
After giving birth to her daughter Rosalita
in a fox-hole during World War II
she made it through
to have 4 more children.
In 1950
she was widowed and remarried to her
brother-in-law.
She passed on to be with the Lord
surrounded by her children and granchildren.
We
her many friends and family members
will keep her memory in our minds
and her love in our hearts
until we meet again.
poem by Bob Genevro
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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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Our children are not going to be just ""our children"" - they are going to be other people's husbands and wives and the parents of our grandchildren.
quote by Mary S. Calderone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our children are not going to be just our children-they are going to be other people's husbands and wives and the parents of our grandchildren.
quote by Mary Steichen Calderone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Alone
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
HER CHILDREN GROWN
WITH FAMILY OF THEIR OWN
SHE WONDERS WHAT HAPPEN
CHILDREN ALL OF THREE
THEY HAVE GROWN LIKE FRUIT UPON THE TREES
GRANDCHILDREN SHE HAS SIX
GETTING HARDER TO REMEMBER THEIR NAMES
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
NO ONE COMES TO VISIT
HER GRANDCHILDREN DOESN, T KNOW HER
HER CHILDREN HAS FORSAKEN HER
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE LOVED HER CHILDREN DEARLY
WANTED NOTHING BUT THE BEST
WORKED HARD AND WENT WITHOUT
HER CHILDREN SHE WOULD DIE FOR
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE AROUND HER
LIKE ALL MOTHERS DO
GET TOGETHERS ON SUNDAYS
SEE A MOVIE OR TWO
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE REEKS HER BRAIN
WONDERS WHAT DID SHE EVER DO
TO GET SUCH COLD TREATMENT
FROM THE BABIES SHE ONCE KNEW
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
THE ANGELS CAME AND CARRIED HER HOME
poem by Verna Ralph
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The Father’s Death
He had had six children,
Fifteen grandchildren and
Many great grandchildren.
He died with a son by.
Others didn’t see him last
And didn’t repent either.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Our Grandchildren
my grandchildren are children of my children,
sounds quite Biblical,
grandchildren are my children once emoved,
neither born nor reared under our roof
the status clear but the state of mind,
unwilling to grow apart is painful and smarting,
each time we see them, a growing warmth,
shining reflections, thrills of yesteryear
crowding the senses, choked with emotion,
we are drowned with sympathies of surrender
symphonies of hugs and embracing,
to kiss and to hold these children of our children
this affinity is like no other, special and particular
reserved only for them, a set, set aside, as we
incessantly seek to find resemblances and like,
about these children of our loins and womb,
remind us of when you were growing up,
their laughter and cheer fills our universe
their pain and fear clouds our horizons,
juat ask and we would give them the skies and galaxies
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Love You Grandchildren
Calling the grandparents,
May make them happy,
When calling itself a problem,
How to make them happy?
When the thorns were sown,
in the young hearts,
When the ill memories are planted,
in the young thoughts,
When the bacterial and viral words were introduced,
to develop immunity,
Children have become immune to love and affection,
when they are old.
Be kind to your grandchildren,
when they are young
so they will be kind to you,
when you are old.
Be neutral to your grandchildren,
when they are in the cousin crowd,
so they will be neutral to you,
when you are in the elderly crowd.
Be generous with love to your grandchildren,
when they are sick and troubled
and they will be generous to you,
when you are really ill and worried.
Be the grandparents to your grandchildren,
As they do not have any other grandparents,
but you.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Mother! Oh Mother
Mother! oh mother!
Where are your children?
Where have they been?
Where have they lost?
Mother! oh mother
Am on you
Yet can't see you
Is you don't like me
Or you don't like us
Mother! your children
Some on edges
Many at peaks
Why are all not equal
Are all not your children?
Maa I understand you
You have lost your children
You are been polluted all over
Maa my mother
Please batter your creation
Batter and make it new
This is a humble request
From one of your children.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
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Mother
Mother are you mad at me
Mother are you scared
That someday you will turn around
And look to find your blue-eyed boy's not there
But mother don't you worry
Mother don't you fret
Cos we've been through so much pain and joy and suffering
For me to forget
The times we had together
Times that were so full (??)
But time's gone by before my eyes
And I realise
Time was often cruel
So mother don't you worry
Mother don't you cry
Cos there'll come a day
When I will take the reins
From your fair hands and wave bye bye
Bye bye
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do.
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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Forgiveness Is Not the Key
I look down at the people, I worry about their woes
I worry about their joys, their friends, their foes
I worry about their lives and the way they live it
I worry about their dreams and wonder if they’ll heed it
I worry about the tears I see running down their face
I worry about their lies they tell in this time and place
I worry about their truths that always hurt more
I worry about what they will definitely have in store
I look down at the people who never showed compassion
Who hate each other with the strongest passion
Who pushed me aside as though I were nothing
I wonder, do they care about anything?
I realise they treat each other as dirt
And they revel within all the hurt
Not one ever worried for me
I’m so glad that I can finally see
I refuse to worry or care about them and their petty ways
I will never again worry for their days
Because not one ever cared for me
Forgiveness is not the key
Not when I live life so lonely
I want to be loved only
For them I’ll never again feel woe
Because I’ll be nothing but their foe
poem by Lenore Lee
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A Piece Of Myself... And For Myself
people in my place worry about me
why i do not worry about next year
the next planting season after this year's bumpy harvest where every room in the house is filled with corn.
people in my place ask me where shall i live after next year
and you should soon inherit the house that i built for 50 years.
they all worry about me with all those particular items like what shall happen
to the glasses in my cabinet
or the white car in my blue garage
or my gold watch and my silver spoons and my china plates
they worry about my gold fish in my aquarium
who shall feed them when i am no longer home
people worry a lot about me
and i begin sometimes when i get tired listening to all the questions
asking: why me? why do you worry all about me?
i am not even dead yet and have no plans retiring from life's works
like the arts and this
pottery and this poetry
people worry about me
and never about us.
i am tired and all i need is sleep.
and i do not worry at all.
because i know that if i am dead
then i am dead
and i do not ask for more
not even on extended dreams
not even on anything
perhaps they worry about me because they all worry about themselves
perhaps i am their mirror
or perhaps they think that with my behavior
i should not have lived
in the first place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hungry Children
Everyday children around the world are starving,
Children has to go without food,
When their parents don't have the money to feed them,
All over the world, there are times,
When all children have went to bed without anything to eat.
Children die every single day,
Because they don't have,
Enough money to feed themselves.
Food should be free to low-income families,
So that the people who can't afford to feed their children can feed them,
Without having to worry that their children or themselves will die,
If food is free to these people,
We will have children for our next gernation.
poem by Bethany Williams
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The Law of the Gun
Even though we parted many years ago
the mother of my children
has a special place in my heart.
She gave me the most precious gift
that anyone can give
she gave me immortality.
Through my children
and their children's children
my spirit shall live on.
And there shall be new generations
of people respecting people
and not the law of the gun.
(2001)
poem by T.J. Daniels
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Daily dose of worry
Concern and worry,
Are so hard to carry.
Deadlines that i hate,
Appointments to be kept.
Housework and officework,
And children's homework.
Sunday brunch,
And growing paunch.
Missing housemaid,
And bills to be paid.
Untimely guests in the house,
And demanding inlaws and spouse.
Children's illness,
And a doctor's abscence.
Worry! oh worry!
So hard to carry.
Like a gum,
That's lost its juice.
Worry is of no use.
The taste is gone,
But he chewing is on.
poem by Maitreyee Joshi
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There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn
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