Then my mother had several strokes and my father, who was 85, couldn't handle it, so Donna came back and we went through the same thing here. She lives in Mill Valley; her group is organizing this event.
quote by Sally Quinn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Angry Young Man
He had so much anger, so much hate
To lash out at someone he couldn’t wait
An innocent bystander walking down the street
This was the one that he would beat.
If she had suspected what lied ahead
She would have turned her back and fled.
With fists flaring he knocked her to the ground
Her jaw broken - she couldn’t make a sound
They say they don’t know how she survived
With the extent of her injuries
they was sure she would die.
She gave a description of what he looked like
And before blacking out she started to fight
They caught him with the description she gave
They saw that he was full of anger and rage.
They say from his step father he had been abused
And fighting back was of no use.
His mother did not believe what he had said
And she turned - and sent him to bed.
He now blamed his mother for what
His step father had done
no one to turn to, no where to run.
She should have - defended her son.
He and his step father are both in jail
Because his mother had truly failed
To hold a man she did not watch her son
Now look at what he has gone and done.
(child abuse can create stories such as this)
poem by Louis Rams
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‘father”:
'A FATHER IS SOMEONE WHO'S THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU NEED HIM
A FATHER NEVER LETS YOU DOWN
A FATHER IS SOMEONE THERE TO HUG YOU WHEN SOMETHING GOES WRONG
A FATHER IS THERE TO DRY UP THE TEARS
A FATHER IS THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO LEAVES THE MOTHER WHEN HE FINDS OUT SHE'S PERGANT
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO DENYS THEIR OWN CHILD
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO LEAVES YOU LEFT BEHIND
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO SAYS ONE THING TO ONE PERSON THEN SAYS ANOTHER THING TO SOMEONE ELSE
A FATHER IS’NT WHAT I SEE IN YOU”
poem by Yeslin Salazar
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Kar
I am a teacher but,
Who said that i have no father? !
For my mother is her and,
I can tell you who my father is.
The jungle out there is so thick but,
I know where my father stays;
And i need to walk through versy slowly to meet his home,
For my father lives there and he is ready to meet me as well.
Kar is my name and i met you last night,
And i told you the story of my father who lives in the thick forest;
So come to my classroom and i will teach you wisdom,
For the unborn will still come out to learn from the mother.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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When you handle yourself, use your head; when you handle others, use your heart.
quote by Donna Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sicilian Emigrant’s Song
O—eh—lee! La—la!
Donna! Donna!
Blue is the sky of Palermo;
Blue is the little bay;
And dost thou remember the orange and fig,
The lively sun and the sea breeze at evening?
Hey—la!
Donna! Donna! Maria!
O—eh—li! La—la!
Donna! Donna!
Gray is the sky of this land.
Gray and green is the water.
I see no trees, dost thou? The wind
Is cold for the big woman there with the candle.
Hey—la!
Donna! Donna! Maria!
O—eh—li! O—la!
Donna! Donna!
I sang thee by the blue waters;
I sing thee here in the gray dawning.
Kiss, for I put down my guitar;
I’ll sing thee more songs after the landing.
O Jesu, I love thee!
Donna! Donna! Maria!
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Death Valley Lives
By: jimmy buffett
1971
It's the ways of her father
If she's gonna change she hasn't done it yet
And the desert is calling to me
Run before the final trap is set
All roads lead to the city
Where the dudes and the dykes all look the same
Lady lays out the pattern
With the parts of her body that seem tame
Death valley lives and tracy isn't sure what really gives
Act like a child and i'll respond with my well-rehearsed farewell
Quoting the verse that you bought but weren't quite prepared to sell
Saying i think i love you
Maybe i care
It's not fair
Death valley lives and tracy isn't sure what really gives
And it's a sore spot when the room's burning hot
And the desert air just cannot bring you down
Still the bed's warm but a cold arm
Keeps me floating inches off the ground
Death valley lives and tracy isn't sure what really gives
Go paint your toes wipe you nose and then come to say goodbye
And all along tell yourself i am wrong if i try
Crying sorry it's over
I'm not to blame
What a game
Death valley lives now i'm not even sure what really gives
Ho, ha
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It has crossed my mind that I would like to run or help to run a pro women's tournament, although I really don't know much about organizing an event (it seems overwhelming actually).
quote by Jennifer Wyatt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Depressed Bubble
His eyes twinkled,
When water bowled along,
With a heavy heart full of grief he stood there,
Feeling out of sorts.
Thinking what would happen to his mother,
When she'll know he got a D,
Thinking what would happen to his father,
Knowing his son couldn't reach his expectations.
Hearing his father's footsteps the boy ran away,
How would he face his father,
How would he face his mother,
What would he say to them?
Only this that they shouldn't have expected much from him,
Or rather blame himself?
His father called out his name,
He couldn't bare the pain,
It was the third time his hard work had went in vain,
The boy thought of nothing,
And while the father reached,
He was horrified for he saw blood stains on the floor,
And no sign of his child.
Teardrops wetted his clothes,
And all that he cited was,
Did you came to see me,
Or did you wished me to go with just tears in my eyes and blood on my hands.....
Written on 10/20/10
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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She-Once-Was My Mother
I've never forgotten
My mother's braveness
She, who stood unbroken like a rainbow
Of a multitude beautiful colours...
She- once- was my mother
And all her courage-
Uncomparable with
Any living thing...
She-once- was my mother
Those moments of terror,
Those places where no
Crickets, snakes, and birds'sounds
Could be heard,
She navigated through
Without a cheerful shadow
Ah! She- once- was my mother
And despite the rumbling bombs
And rockets'songs,
She wouldn't fling her full-topped cases
On the sorghum-filled walking way
As my father had done
When he left her behind
Can't you see!
She- once- was my mother
And the continuous calls
Of the word 'maman',
Of my baby brother- behind her back,
Couldn't supress her
She was still not easilly broken like an egg
Hard like canadian rocky mountains...
She- once- was my mother
Even as the calls kept on,
A suitable place, she would fetch
To make him suck her breasts
And continue her way-afterwards
How tenacious!
She- once-was my mother
And later, when I and siblings saw her,
Down, the joy knocked my heart
And said, 'yes girl-she once had been your mother'
poem by Mariechantal Tuyisabe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My mother and my father were teachers. My grandmother and my grandfather were teachers. This is something I really know about. Even when I was a kid, it was a profession my father couldn't stay in, because he couldn't make enough money.
quote by Warren Beatty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My earliest memory is dreamlike: in a small orchard or garden I am carried on the arm, I believe, of my father; there was a group of grown-ups, my mother among them, and the group was slowly walking in the orchard, it seems toward the house.
quote by Immanuel Velikovsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Twa Sisters O' Binnorie
There were twa sisters sat in a bow'r;
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
A knight cam' there, a noble wooer,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The eldest she was vexed sair,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And sair envìed her sister fair,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Upon a morning fair and clear,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie !)
She cried upon her sister dear,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
`O sister, sister, tak' my hand,'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
`And let's go down to the river-strand,'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
She's ta'en her by the lily hand,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And down they went to the river-strand
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The youngest stood upon a stane,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
The eldest cam' and pushed her in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, sister, reach your hand!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And ye sall be heir o' half my land'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O sister, reach me but your glove!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'And sweet William sall be your love'--
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
Till she cam' to the mouth o' yon mill-dam,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie
Out then cam' the miller's son
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And saw the fair maid swimmin' in,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
'O father, father, draw your dam!'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'There's either a mermaid or a swan,'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
The miller quickly drew the dam,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And there he found a drown'd womàn,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
Round about her middle sma'
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
There went a gouden girdle bra'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
All amang her yellow hair
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
A string o' pearls was twisted rare,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
On her fingers lily-white,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
The jewel-rings were shining bright,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And by there cam' a harper fine,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
Harpèd to nobles when they dine,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And when he looked that lady on,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
He sigh'd and made a heavy moan,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And wi' them strung his harp sae rare,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
He went into her father's hall,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
And played his harp before them all,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And sune the harp sang loud and clear,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
`Fareweel, my father and mither dear!'
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And neist when the harp began to sing,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'Twas 'Fareweel, sweetheart!' said the string,
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.
And then as plain as plain could be,
(Binnorie, O Binnorie!)
'There sits my sister wha drownèd me!
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.'
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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the little brown boy from Luyuran
he is the eldest of four
age is 7
he quit school
his mother is a
drunkard and
lives with another
man in the village
his father is
killed by the
lover of her mother
that early morning
four of them
are fetched to live
with his grandma
they buried his father
and his mother
is nowhere to be found
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Son Of A Rotten Gambler
(chip taylor)
And his love will be his vision
And hell take you where you stand
And will you stand your life by his
And help the boy become a man
And hed be the son of his father his father the teacher
Teaching love and honesty being his own man handler
For the son of the son of run of the mill run
Rotten gambler
Will the devil be getting to you as you look back
Over what youve done
And what youve done was it for reason or rhyme
Was it just for fun
And hed be the son of his father his father the teacher
Teachin love and honesty being his own man handler
For the son of the son of run of the mill run
Rotten gambler
Back on the road now you can lose your head
There aint no kingdom for the gambling man
You know the road now and youve made your stand
When his eyes shine upon you shine upon you
And hed be the son of his father his father the teacher
Teaching love and honesty being his own man handler
For the son of the son of run of the mill run
Rotten gambler
Back on the road now you can lose your head
There aint no kingdom for the gambling man
You know the road now and youve made your stand
When his eyes shine upon you shine upon you
And hed be the son of his father his father the teacher
Teaching love and honesty being his own man handler
Or the son of the son of run of the mill run
Rotten gambler
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Donna-get Off That Crack
Donna has a nine year old kid
In another months time shes expecting twins
She says she can quit anytime she likes
But I know shes on a mission tonight
Donna get off that crack says the sign on the third floor flat
Donna get off that crack just say no get your life back
Dont pay no bills dont pay the rent
But you dont forget where the money went
And who will you turn to when the moneys all gone
Youll wonder why, why you were born
Donna get off that crack says the sign on the third floor flat
Donna get off that crack just say no get your life back
Shes down on the dealing floor
She just wants to do one more
One more time and then shell quit
One more dance just one more hit
Remember frank he cut a dash
So much style so much class
Blown away for the coat on his back
The kid that did it sold his coat for crack
Donna get off that crack says the sign on the third floor flat
Donna get off that crack just say no get your life back
Shes down on the dealing floor
She just wants to do one more
One more time and then shell quit
One more dance just one more hit
Donna get off that crack says the sign on the third floor flat
Donna get off that crack just say no get your life back
(m.charlton)
Copyright 1989 elgin music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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