Tragedy
That LIC agent
With the
Beautiful
Writing…
Very genteel,
And good-looking.
Baba told me -
He had a happy
Family with a
Young wife,
And two children.
One night
A truck -
Struck them
While they were
Returning home
On their scooty.
That was the end
Of their story.
Or, was it?
No….their
Old parents
Are reliving
This sad story
Day in and
Day out of their
Dying life…
Thinking
Over and over
Again, asking
Each other:
Why me?
I sometimes
Wonder…
Does God
Have a heart,
Does He?
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Related quotes
Eden’s Children
Eden’s Children (chapter II)
Adam and Eve
-the beautiful story of birth and death
what man and god alike has to give
to unfold the beginnings of truth;
Cain and Abel
-the beautiful story of love and hate
between status and power; name and title
to unveil the face that hides from the light
Tower of Babel
-the beautiful story of wisdom and pride
of prince and lord; ruler and citizen; priest and noble
to unlock the bars of the heaven’s side
Joseph and his brothers
-the beautiful story of vision and suspicion
thus wife against husband; children against parents
to unmask the characters of personal and social mission
Moses and the nation
-the beautiful story of The Law –the blessing and the curse
thus their rise and fall; unity and division
to unload their vise and virtue unto the skies
Jesus and the world
-the beautiful story of love, faith and charity
thus his lordship is over the new and the old
to undefine the was, is, to be for us to be free
poem by Jordan Legaspi
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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
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When the Parents Refuse to Come Home
When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.
poem by David E. Patton
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Washington and Lincoln
Come, happy people! Oh come let us tell
The story of Washinton and Lincoln!
History's pages can never excel
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Down through the ages an anthem shall go,
Bearing the honors we gladly bestow--
Till every nation and language shall know
The story of Washington and Lincoln:
Who gave us independence,
On our continent and sea
Who saved the glorious Union!
And set a people free!
This is the story--
Oh happy are we--
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Parents to children shall tell with delight,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Free born and freed men together recite
The story of Washinton and Lincoln.
Earth's weary bond men shall listen with cheer--
Tyrants shall tremble, and traitors shall fear--
When, in it's fullness of glory, they hear
The story of Washington and Lincoln:
Though on the war cloud recorded with steel,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Peace only Peace, can completely reveal
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Thanks to the Lord for the days we behold!
Thanks for the unsullied flag we unfold!
Thanks to us, and in our time, was told
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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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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Natives Are Restless Tonight
(Don Tiki)
Let me tell you 'bout my neighborhood
If you're visiting tonight
You better stay out of the shadows
Stay in the bright, bright light
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
They're not particularly interested in me or you
They're just looking for some meat
They can put in their stew
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
It's best to stay upstairs
With the Good Book alone
'Cause when the drums start burnin'
You better leave your sermons at home
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
You might consider yourself lucky
Just to be alive
'Cause it's a full moon tonight
And it's right for a conquering tribe.
Don't take fright, the natives are restless tonight
And they say...
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
Hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey hoom baba hoom baba hoom baba hey hey
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're All God's Children
Album: Peace In The Valley
Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
You like the day, and I like the night
He's into country and he's isn't quit
There's folks on the left and the far right
But that doesn't mean that we have to fight
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
White folks, yellow folks, black and tan
On the same planet in the same plan
A feminist woman and a he man
We're all playin' the magic hand
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Oh, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
All god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Yeah, We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all black and white
We're all precious in his sight
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we all be
One big happy family...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dying Gamblers Story
In a little secret Gambling house in a city known for fame
There sits a man of tender years his head bowed down in shame
That young man told a story as sad as can be
And if you will but listen this is what he said to me.
A year ago I had a wife but she was called one day
And as she lay so near to death she pressed my hand to say
I'm giving you my wedding ring to cherish all your life
And with these words the reaper called away my loving wife.
Soon I started gambling til I never had a thing
And on a hand I thought would win I bet my dead wife's ring
I drew the card and looked at it, Oh God I cried aloud
I've lost my dead wife's wedding ring to this drunken jeering around.
When he had finished speaking he bowed his head and sighed
And we who heard his story knew that he had died
But that dying gamblers story didn't mean a thing
Too bad they said, dealt the cards, and bet his dear wife's ring.
poem by Kenneth T. Schofield
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Sonnet: A Happy Family
A happy family is one blessed by God!
Both parents slog all life for their children;
And children honor parents, without rod;
All walk united en way to Heaven.
A happy family lives in piety;
Their home is warm and welcomes everyone;
They’re satisfied and live with satiety;
There’s time for love, care, work, play, also fun!
A happy family loves its neighbors well;
All share their joys, woes, grief and problems too;
Their faith in God, their smiling faces tell;
With divine aim, all earthly works, they do!
A happy family prays in harmony;
God meets their needs of body, soul, money!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-1-2006
poem by John Celes
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Bookworm
There's a story that like a dessert I love
And I enjoy every page slowly as much as I can
There's story that makes me desperate
And even my day becomes gloomy after I read
There's story that safe to be read anytime
And I don't mind if it's going up or down
There's story that could burn me to the core
And left me with desire to create another story
There's story that easily predict
And I could finish it without much thinking
There's story that has a very good cliffhanger
And I need to rush to the publisher to make it comes fast
There's story that goes like my dream
And I want to repeat over and over until I'm getting bored
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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I don't think I prefer writing for one age group above another. I am just as pleased with a story which I feel works well for very small children as I do with a story for young adults.
quote by Margaret Mahy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris
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Once when I was in Hawaii, on the island of Kauai, I met a mysterious old stranger. He said he was about to die and wanted to tell someone about the treasure. I said, "Okay, as long as it's not a long story. Some of us have a plane to catch, you know." He stared telling his story, about the treasure and his life and all, and I thought "This story isn't too long." But then, he kept going, and I started thinking, "Uh-oh, this story is getting long." But then the story was over, and I said to myself "You know, that story wasn't too long after all." I forget what the story was about, but there was a good movie on the plane. It was a little long, though.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forget It All
Forget the rainbows and the pots of gold at the end of them
Forget the happy endings at the end of the fables
Forget happy times and joyous smiles too
Forget it all, this happy story’s not meant for you
Forget what you remembered
About the warm fuzzy feelings
Of happy people and happy days
Good times and fun-filled nights
Forget it all
Nightmares will now take over
Forget it all
Life will now take over
Not much to be happy about now
As you begin to forget it all
Metaphors and similes
Of what’s good and right
Will soon be replaced
By the darkness of the night
Stand proud and tall
For the stories to be told
Of the rise and the fall
Will now be scary and so very cold
At the end of the story
Long before it gets too gory
Once and for all
Please
Forget it all
poem by Fab Ricciardi
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Sonnet: Our World When Young...
Those days were fine when children young, we were,
And parents cared for us in all our needs;
We came to know a world that was unfair;
Yet, we were trained to sow only good seeds!
A time then came when we were separate,
With family of own, problems galore;
We learnt to stay off vice and sins to hate;
Though we were far better, we craved for more!
What parents did, we could not equalise;
Their performance remained always a feat!
Our sufferings then, we try to visualise;
Our former life was rather good and neat.
O thank You God for parents wonderful;
They toiled to make our lives so beautiful!
‘God bless our dear parents with heaven! ’
Most lovingly dedicated to our dear parents (late)
Mrs. Stella and Antoniswami, Old Chungam, CBE
By all their beloved children
Copyright by Dr John Celes 19-10-11
poem by John Celes
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There Is A Story
There is a story
Of which only a heart could tell
A story of love and beauty
Of wanting and regret
A tale of such romance
Where a tragedy unfolds
The hero or heroine emerges
To save another’s life
To rescue from such loss
The heart of their affection
A story told and known
A story so alike many others
But with a soul of its own
It plays at the strings
A melody of quiet beauty
From the darkest tears
To the brightest smile
There exists uncompleted
A life being written
In a story
Only a heart could know
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Cancer
he went to the doctor because of
a pain in his chest.
they gave him a physical and ran every test.
the doctor told him:
the results will come back within one week
then we'll sit and we'll speak.
the results came back, just like he said
and with it bad news, of which he had dread.
CANCER! how can that be, i am only thirty three.
what will happen, what can i do.
i have a family just like you.
what will happen to my children
and my lovely wife, how will she
survive in this uncertain life?
two kids to raise and her husband not there.
what is GOD thinking, does'nt he care.
i'll accept death, be it as may.
but i always dreamt with my children i'd play.
now with the bad news he had to face the family.
should he tell them the truth, or tell them a lie.
but sooner or later he would die.
that night with tears in his eyes
he told his family he was going to die.
the time i have left on this earth only GOD can tell.
and if i'll go to heaven, or if i'll go to hell.
so while i am here, i want to share my entire life
with my family, because with you is where i want to be.
we're going to do all the things that we've
never done before, like take a trip to the shore.
all the sports that we wanted to do
fishing, boating, hunting, hiking
and just some quality time all alone.
for i don't know when i'll be coming home.
i want you all to remember this:
this is not words of good-bye
for we'll see each other on the other side.
CANCER: THINK ABOUT IT BEFORE YOU TAKE THAT DRAG
FOR IT MAY BE YOUR VERY LAST.
poem by Louis Rams
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Just To Hear Your Story Being Told
Stay up all night,
If you are the type...
That can not seem to sleep right.
And bear on shoulders,
Those burdens you can't control.
The ones you hold in overload.
Fight with clinched teeth and be uptight...
About common situations that incite,
And corrode that need you have to be bold.
Just to hear your story being told.
Just to hear your story!
Go fly a kite!
If that is the attitude you choose and like.
But put some movement to it.
And don't criticize...
Those you know who recommend,
You should get a life.
Don't close off to sit inside.
To peep out from a keyhole...
Just to hear your story being told.
Go fly a kite!
Just to hear your story being told!
Stay up all night.
Fight with clinched teeth and be uptight
But...
Don't sit inside.
Just to hear your story being told.
Just to hear your story...
Stay up all night,
If you are the type...
That can not seem to sleep right.
And bear on shoulders,
Those burdens you can't control.
The ones you hold in overload.
To peep on the outside,
From a keyhole...
Just to hear your story being told.
Go fly a kite...
If you need your story to be told.
Just to hear your story.
And,
Go fly a kite...
If you need your story to be told.
Just to hear your story.
And...
Go fly a kite!
Just to hear your story being told!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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