En.Citatepedia^®.ro

My Unicorn

I finally went outside the house
Walked slowly down
Its stairs
Moving towards the path
That my father trod
Many years ago

The same path that mother
Too walked upon
Years ago to follow those
She loved most

Now, taking the same path
I too, look for those
I truly love

The white horse that father left
That mother caressed
With her tiny hands

The little bird that barely
Knew how to fly
Fallen and then learned to fly
Away

The face of the white princess
Powdered cheeks with
My kisses my sweet memories

I had seen almost everything
That was left
Except the white horse
That they have taken
Away from me

She was my only unicorn.

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On That Path

I'm on that path,
So was my mother,
I'm on that path,
Just like my brother.
I'm on that path,
I didn't know my father,
I'm on that path,
And i am the master.
I'm on that path,
upon the good, straying from evil.
I'm on that path-
There is no cheating.
I'm on that path,
God knows i need him.
I'm on that path,
and i hope i'm never leaving ;)

the HEARTbraker

poem by Madina Morr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Horse...

on that early dawn
they arrived. I will not tell you
exactly how many were they.
they brought the wild horse again
this time it is white and coy
they did not speak to me
my attention was focused on the
beautiful horse
i did not show that i liked it
i did not talk too
then they brought the horse inside
the house
and then the windows and doors
were closed
and then the white horse started to
dance
and i liked it more

it was then that i realized
what are they really
and why are they here bringing me
a beautiful white horse

will they take my antique chairs
made of rosewood?
will i bargain my house
for a horse?

just for a horse
and they whose names i do not really know
shall laugh
after they had finally taken the whole of what i have

just for a white horse whose talent is just
to dance?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like No Other...Mother

Mother...

Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.

Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.

Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother...This ones' For You...

Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.

Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.

Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother...

Mother, who gave us her heart...her very soul.
Mother, who's understanding never wavered.
Mother, the one who dried our tears.
Mother, she lead us to the path of His Love.
Mother, who washed our cloths and cleaned the house.
Mother, who instilled confidence in her children.
Mother, who walked us to school.
Mother, who loved us like no other.
Mother, who quelled the anger within us.
Mother, who drove us to all our practices.
Mother, who never forgot our special occasions.
Mother, who protected her family, as a lion to a cub.
Mother, who always supported our father.
Mother, who scrimped and saved for our daily needs.
Mother, who was always the last to eat.
Mother, who was always the first to rise.
Mother, who cared for the animals.
Mother, a love that knew no limits.
Mother, who forever placed her family, before herself.
Mother, who was grateful, for every passing acknowledgement.
Mother, whose eyes shined, when she heard the words,
I love you mom.
Mother, who always saw the good in us.
Mother, who always taught us to never, never, give up.
Mother, who instilled in us, to be better.
Mother, who made us believe, we could accomplish anything.
Mother, mother...mother, you were like no other.

Mother, you will always remain, in our
hearts, in our deeds, in our thoughts,
in our lives and in our prayers.

Surely, beyond the stars, there's a special place for Mothers.

poem by Joe Fazio
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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Fallen princess

Fallen princess is her new name for me,
fallen princess how she uses to call me,
so I start to doubt
Fallen princess, is this really me.

Once I sat on my high horse,
on the winner's throne.
Everything I wanted
was something on the floor, a dirty diamond.

So I climbed off my horse
and picked one of them.
By running away my white horse said
'Black isn't the shade of my soul, so let me go'.

A fallen princess with a dirty diamond.
Is this really me?
I don't know,
but you aren't allowed to judge me.

©

poem by Maryelle Anthony
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The Prisoner Of War

he waited from night to night
he waited till the son started peeling over the horizon
he waited till he heard the morning birds chirp
he waited for a long time
he waited for his father
his father lost at war
his father he knew since he was born
but as time grew
the boy felt so weary
the boy waited and waited and waited
his mother giving him the same face
the same face when his father left
and the same face when he didn't comeback
but the boy did not notice this
the boy never knew his dad has been lost
but until
until he strayed up one night
a night he would never forget
he saw his father walking about in the streets
his uniform on but he noticed something else
his father had many medals
but he knew nothing of them
all that he cared about was his father was home

the boy waited 10 years
his mother fell asleep in tears
for all those years
but then he finally came home

this poem is dedicated to all POW

poem by Montana Hohensee
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Remembering Childhood

by accident you come across
an old picture
you recognize the face of your father
beside your mother
with his gun on the side of his body
as reservist of the army
you look closely
your mother pouts
and she is holding on to her
white skirt
you father's right hand grips
his gun
while the left holds on to
the chair just behind your
mother's neck

there is a baby being held
by your mother
it is sleeping and it looks
like you

your father does not like
you and you know it from the very start
you know how to pretend
till he died

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It takes three to make a family

(The Mistress or mother)
My son was a gift,
But his father didn't think so,
He left me alone,
With his son I mind you,
I was just a girl,
And he a man,
He did not care,
He left me bowed eyes and broken,
A Lord was he and I Mistress was I,
We were in two different worlds,
Seperated by our familes,
But our son not like us,
A son forced to see his parents like this,
I can still do te best for him,
His father is a monster not a man,
I am scared for my son,
What of his life?
No, I must do my best for him,
If I don't I'll let both of us down,
Years have past and now my son is a man,
I'm dying slowly,
I don't want my son to worry,
I know that I'm on my deathbed,
And I'm as king forJesus.
(Lord or father)
I did not leave her,
She left me,
I couldn't find her,
I wanted my son,
She didn't give him,
Now she's gone and my son with me,
My son's mother was my late wife,
I wanted them both,
But she sought me to be a demon,
Lies upon lies,
I was persuaded from my mother,
My wife listened to our converesation,
Many years later my son is married,
Now I'm going to meet my wife,
Together in heaven,
We have all eternity,
Jesus please keep our son.
(Son)
I am a man who loves,
Mom and dad didn't know,
I am the birth of their future,
They died without knowing me,
I am their son,
But all their time was fighting,
Mentally and emotional,
I spent my childhood afraid of them,
On a nevering chase against time,
My family will teach and give me love,
Years, many, many, years later,
I am a great grandfather,
Now and finally I am on my deathbed,
And I'm happy,
A tear has fallen out my eye,
I am now ready to reunite with,
Both my mother and father,
Jesus thank you for bringing,
The family together at last.

poem by Qeeony Luv
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lifes path

There are so many paths in life
I guess I could say
I ve walked them all

The right path
The wrong path
The path of pain
The path of good
The path of bad

Which path do I now take
At this present time of life
The path I take is the path of pain.
The path of hurt

So many paths I have walked
But im lost in the path
The path of pain

Amy Kerswell

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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I also pay tribute to my flesh

I do not keep a snob spirit
A closed one not open to the realities
Of my duality: body and soul
Flesh and spirit, to keep myself whole
To keep the horses satisfied and make
This chariot travel smoothly towards
The path I have chosen towards the path
Of my true destination
The black horse and the white horse
They must too live in harmony
The black horse of my nights
The white horse of my days
And this chariot where I ride

I am still the driver in control
I drive where I want to go
I stop when I want to stop
These horses must see me as their master
And this chariot where I ride Is nothing
But just a useful thing.

Today, I pay tribute to my flesh
And my spirit must also understand
Love after all hinges on desires
And without this body, how can the spirit feel?
And where can guilt be, if love knows
That it is always greater and can always win.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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* * *

Papa on the horse

As I remember,
Papa rode on the horse
the White horse

He was so cruel
And he would not
Feed
The white horse
For days

One day
They went to the
Sea
The white horse
And papa

I wished the
White horse
Would swim
To the other island
And leave
Papa for good

He was so cruel
And he would beat
The white horse
For days

But the white horse
Stayed
she was not fed
For days

One day
The White Horse
Got mad
And bit
Papa to death.

I did not wish
The horse
Would eat
Papa whole.

I too would be
Cruel then.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hands & Knees

You see me walking away
What more could I say than sorry
I failed by all your complaints
You pushed a life change but its not me
And filthy hands lay apon my chest
Lay upon my sin, but I do it for green
And in your mind you are blind
And your back turn so fine
Where were you when I needed you most
So mother so father
Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
My self-indulgence to blame
For all of the shame in the family
You dont know what its like
How I feel how I cry
How I hate the way I hate my life
So mother so father Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
Pues madre, y padre
Esta vida no quiero vivir
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me

song performed by by Unloco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forwarding myself

Forwarding myself on journey
I see kissing of light
At sweet-will and a path
That left my childhood
Far behind.

Childhood friend
Reminded to play
And I felt no
Difficulty with this.

That I asserted
And crossed the path
I walked and walked
To the place not mine.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Papa on the horse As I remember

Papa rode on the horse
the White horse

He was so cruel
And he would not
Feed
The white horse
For days

One day
They went to the
Sea
The white horse
And papa

I wished the
White horse
Would swim
To the other island
And leave
Papa for good

He was so cruel
And he would beat
The white horse
For days

But the white horse
Stayed
she was not fed
For days

One day
The White Horse
Got mad
And bit
Papa to death.

I did not wish
The horse
Would eat
Papa whole.

I too would be
Cruel then

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Of Night

Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Path

I ventured down a path
I had walked many years ago.
So much had changed since then.
It was hardly recognisable,
but it was it still the same path
that had been used by countless feet,
and it never lost any of its individuality.
It was still the same old path
I had used in my courting days.

30 April 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Son Reaches For His Father's Hand

A Son Reaches For His Father's Hand

As they walk,
A son reaches
for his father's hand,
barely able to brush his fingertips.
Only sometime later,
the father wraps his fingers
around his son's
fallen hand.

The son looks into his father's eyes.
The father looks down,
a tear is heard
as it falls onto the clay soil.

The son tries hard
to move his legs fast,
to follow each of his father's strides.
The father looks down,
finally he adjusts his gait.
His son relieved,
breathes normally once more,
as he gratefully finds his pace.

At the woods' edge
the father chooses the path to the left.
Soon they are out of sight.

They see tall trees, fallen trees, rocks, mushrooms,
one beaver, two fawns,
three ponds with frogs and the like.
The son feels both excited and at peace
as they start on one of the trails back.
But this time the son gets to choose,
left or right.

During the entire walk
through serenity,
neither spoke.

They came to the grassland,
no longer just father and son,
as they had begun.
They returned
forever
spliced into one.

A simple walk in the woods,
by themselves in nature's blessed bosom,
can quitely re-compose
the fragmenting noises of daily life
into a largo of deepening love.

A moment of simplicity
with one of our own,
can dissove life's duplicity-
denying the frenetic pursuit
of the transient.
The sowing of seeds of love and loyalty,
in the most fragile, fertile of grounds,
creates children as Nature's true royalty.
It is their blessed spirits
which rest softly
on the breast of Mother Nature.

The years elapse, the child
now a father, takes his daughter
for a walk in the woods.
Her age, about the same
as his back then.
He asks her which way she would
like to go.
She points to the right.

Moments pass,
soon they are part of the woods.
The father reaches down,
embraces her tiny hand.
She squeezes, then sort of kneeds his.

They see into each others' eyes.
She and he reach for each other.
He lifts her to his chest
as she wraps her arms
tightly around his neck.

The sparrows, look down,
then turning skyward, sing smiling.
The surrounding peacefulness
whispers itself
into father and daughter,
each of them forever together,
with mitered hearts.

Mike August 04/12/2009

poem by Mike August
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A White Horse Of The Most Magical Kind

She rode a white horse,
rode it for sanity;
galloped and cantered
with rhythmic consistency,
walked for a while
along glistening streams
and trotted through dark woods
with the darkest of dreams.

Bridled with a need to express
she rode east and rode west,
never stopping or ceasing her quest,
until she reached
the most beautiful shore,
of a beach of white sand
with a moon in the sky
that reached with its moonlight
into her heart, that had cried.

She dismounted the horse
and danced on the sands
with stars in her eyes;
pure love in her hands.
She looked at her horse
praised it and said
'a horse such as you
is a magical find
a horse that's named poetry
is the most wonderful kind.'

poem by David Taylor
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