En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Dad

The two Gibraltars in the yard
never were delivered.
They have always been there.
The twenty years I lived there

the neighbors never said a word.
Their shrieks would shatter both
if they could see them.
The redwood fence my father built

is tall enough to cover his.
It will be tall enough, he swears,
in time to cover mine.
My father says before he dies

he'll sell his own Gibraltar
and leave the house, the yard,
the redwood fence to me
to guarantee that I keep mine.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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The Fence

Around my yard there stands a fence
It keeps the outside world out and I safe within
Though the structure is not that immense
It does the purpose as which it was built for and meant.
Neighbors and strangers it keeps out of my yard
Along with their trash and pets which does it harm
I am my yards protector, landscaper and guard
As it is my beauty, and not a trash bin or someone's farm.
My fence allows and welcomes the sunshine and the wind
Mother nature is always welcomed to visit and roam
The squirrels and the birds are always welcomed in
And welcome are the bee's with the pollen they've sewn.

Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects my yard from the enemies about
Too me it makes such perfect sense
Better to stop the entering, than for me to scream and shout.
As my yard is not the playground for a child to use
Or a shortcut for many persons to walk or run
As it it my yard which I won't neglect or abuse
And the work that I do on it, it will never be done.
In the summertime there will be  plants to raise
And the leaves to rake when it becomes the fall
While hoping mother nature with me will always stay
And because of my fence, it will protect it all.

Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects and guards my yard everyday of the year
To others though it might cause an offense
As though it tells the people, not to come over here.
It is my yard which is mine to raise it like a child
To cut it and groom it and keep it nice for all to see
But truly it is GOD'S acre, which I saved from the wild
Then through the wonder of nature, in life I do believe.
So as days will come you will see myself in my yard
And sometimes you might see me nervous and tense
I hate clutter and trash so from there it is always barred
Also to protect my yard and myself, is my mighty fence.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Just A Fence

I say this in truth and not in pretense
All else I wish to own is just a fence
A fence that is made out of steel or wood
Placed around my property as it should
Around my home to protect like a guard
So my dogs won't escape from their yard
I want them to be free without a restraint
To run and play without a neighbors complaint
A fence also to be a barrier from the street
So the many dangers or hazards they will not meet
But sadly I am poor and I have no extra expense
So all that I wish for, is just a fence.

poem by Randy McClave
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Redwood Tree

Boy and his dog
Went out looking for the rainbow
You know what did they learn
Since that very day
Walking by the river
And running like a blue streak
Through the fields of streams and meadows
Laughing all the way
Oh redwood tree
Please let us under
When we were young we used to go
Under the redwood tree
And it smells like rain
Maybe even thunder
Wont you keep us from all harm
Wonderful redwood tree
And a boy and his father
Went out, went out looking for the lost dog
You know what oh havent they learned
Since they did that together
They did not bring him back
He already had departed
But look at everything they have learned
Since that, since that very day
Oh redwood tree
Please let us under
When we were young we used to go
Under the redwood tree
And it smells like rain
Maybe even thunder
Wont you keep us from all harm
Wonderful redwood tree
Ta da da da...

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over There

The fence is long and high where we love
You cant see the other side where they live
Ive spied with my little eye
And Ive sighed with my little sigh
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
This is the fence that turns one into two
I want to break through but Im though if I do
Ive tried with my little try
And Ive cried with my little cry
But it seems that the gate holds the only clue
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive though again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
[brilliant solo from stan the man]
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}

song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain

It rains on the redwood
that cover the mountain
The bark of them glistens
and darkens upon them.
I know the rain gladdens
The heart of the redwood
their branches all burdened
with numberless gems.

But what would they think, now,
these trees, if they knew
that the water they drink
was a poisonous brew
and the drops that accrue
to the needles and cling
were soon to undo them
and earthward-ward bring?

Oh, the forests are whispering
over all the vast land
'We are poisoned, O brothers
by poisonous hands.
Our children are sickened
and the last of our race
are pelted with sulphur
and poisoned apace.

So be mindful, O People
that the earth is an only
descended from father
to progeny born
and cannot be jetted
like the rind of an orange
like the hull of an acorn
for lack of a plan.

So, are...

poem by Morgan Michaels
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Buried Between two Trees

Back home again
in the yard
I used to play in

So many memories here
of days long ago
for memories, I hold dear

Saw the grave of old shep
the dog I loved so
in this yard, he followed me every step

He's buried between two trees you see
buried him in my brand new quilt
and my mother was really mad at me

In this yard, I would bathe him
many years before
his old eyes grew dim

His bed layed by the cellar door
with tall trees, all around him
oh memories, of the dog I adored

Memories of the time
that the meter man came
he hit old shep, that wasn't very kind

This old yard, was all shep had
he guarded it with his life
when he died, I was very sad

This old yard, now has in it,
a lot of beautiful flowers, all round
between two trees, he wouldn't mind a bit.

poem by Jim Foulk
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Love Story

Partly owned to her house
Wooden white picket fence
Mother waits for father
In a backless dress
Hardly used a diaphram
Put back into the case
A one way trip down memory lane
As she awaits
I dont wanna know
Cheat me
I dont wanna know
Children play in the yard
Mother stares at a wall
Father says hes gonna be back late
So dont wait up
About a quarter to 3
Father stares at a wall
Stained thicker than water
Whos gonna clean it up

song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Spoke in Code

Father spoke in code
Mother understood.
She would cry
once he went to bed.
I never understood the code.
My sister didn't either.
As we got older, we quit
asking Mother what he said.

A feral cat claimed our yard.
It would leap the fence
when anyone appeared.
Except, of course, Father.
When he came out to walk
around the garden after supper,
the cat would sit straight up,
then rub against his leg
and look at him as if it understood
what others never could.

My sister used to say
the two of us were proof
Father and Mother
got together twice.
I told her I wasn't so certain.
I looked a lot like Mr. Brompton,
the next-door neighbor.
He used to buy us sugar cones
from the ice cream truck.

My sister, by the way, didn't look
like anyone in the family either,
but that was 40 years ago
when I last saw her.
I went away to college
and she got married.
We were never close after that.
Not even Christmas cards.

Forty years is a long time.
Now, we plan to get together
for a weekend this summer
before one of us dies.
I suggested we wait
till one of us is terminal.
What's the rush, I said.
But my wife told her
I was only kidding,
that we'll be coming
and not to make a fuss.
Burgers and hot dogs
will do just fine.

I know what Sis and I
will talk about that weekend,
the two people we'll always
have in common, no matter
how many years and miles
may lie between us.
Father and Mother have been
dead for decades now
but they're still alive in us.
I talk in code, my wife says,
and my sister cries a lot,
now that her husband's dead.
The one thing I want to know
is if my sister knows
what happened to the cat.
It knew the code,
may have had some answers.

poem by Donal Mahoney
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXXVI: Cover

We cover bitterness with satyr
We cover sadness with smile
We cover happiness with tears
We cover pride with stubbornness
We cover anger with jokes
We cover grudge with loyalty
We cover love with play
We cover lust with generosity
We cover sorrow with toughness
We cover ambition with hard work
We cover hope with pessimism
We cover fear with deniable
We cover dream with horror
We cover shame with sarcasm
We cover lone with rebellion
We cover clueless with boasting
We cover ignorance with invisibility
We cover truth with shadow
We cover trouble with distraction
We cover envy with humiliation
We cover lie with innocence

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Who Is A Father?

What is a father or better yet who?
Who is a father? What does he do?
Is he a man with a spouse? Does he live in your house?
Does he get up early and stay up late?
Just to make sure there's food on your plate?
Is he caring or daring? Does he talk real fast?
Is he wise and unerring? Does talk about the past?
Is he short or tall? Does size matter at all?
When you hear his voice do you answer his call?
Who is a father? Did you get the right one?
Who is a father? Are you a daughter or a son?
Who is a father? Did you get one?
I have a Father! He never leaves me alone!
In the arena of fathers some answer the call
Then there are those who always fall
Short of God's vision for their life
God gave them to you to pray they get right! !
Who is your father?
Did he leave before you were born?
Make God your father! !
Then you're neither forsaken nor forlorn!
Who is your father? Does he know you by name?
My Father in Heaven knows your very frame?

poem by Sabrina Robinson
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The Love Of A Father

the love of a father is strong
the daughter knows its not wrong.

we love to know that our father is with us
even though we make a fus.

they protcet us in anywaythey can
they even sit nxet to you in the van.

my father is this and more
i'm his little girl that he adores.

yes i get in to trouble from time to time
but then you would not seem fine.

you punish me for me to understand
but you also give me a hand.

you help me with my homework
and i help you with yard work.

i am a great student
and noone will give me an award
but yur love for me is tremendus.

i will leave you one day
and i will remember what to say.

'my father was harsh
but that is what i charesh'

poem by Alyshia Parker
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Redwood Hill

I climbed the redwood hill
Twas on a rainy day
To rise above the throng
And talk with mother nature for a while
She told me of her love
For the children in her trust
And of her grave concern
For the likes of you and me and us
Crying thought she was
She did speak these tender words
The things that I am
I could not change for any man
I tried to comfort her
Ah but she would not be still
And how the rain did fall
As I found my way back down the redwood hill
Crying though she was
She did speak these tender words
The things that I am
I would not change for any man
I tried to compfort her
Ah but she would not be still
Ill not forget that day
When mother nature cried on redwood hill
Ill not forget that day
When mother nature cried on redwood hill.

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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10 Days

Having been born in my own yard
I never knew a reason to leave.
But when a flower from the other side of the fence called my name
it brought me to consider.
But the prospect seemed ludicrous-
I shall stay on my side of the fence.
Upon closer look the beautiful flower again called my name
I saw the petals were smooth and green.
So I jumped the fence, and tried to place myself in the ground next to the flower
laboriously digging all around it, trying to become one with it.
The following 3 days, while I dug, the beautiful flower withered in the hot wind and on the fourth crumbled beside me.
Feeling compelled to myself wither and crumble with guilt
on the other side of the garden another flower called
feeling hopeless and tormented I followed the voice for four more days until I came upon the flower
standing alone on parched soil, famished and dying.
Suffocating in my own misery
for 2 days I attempted to penetrate through the dry, cracked ground to bind myself to this lone, beautiful flower I found among weeds and sticks
and eventually dug this flower up as well, which too died
I thought about where to go from here
but so weakened I myself began to wither and crack.
10 days after leaving my yard
my skin flaked off
my teeth fell out
my bones became ashes.

poem by Louie Vizcarra
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I Have Come

Very different from everyone
I have come to save you
Enemy of the bauty and lover to
I will not leave you

Your heart you may hide
For cover you better run
Yeah yeah
Find you I will

Run for cover baby
I'm going to be your lover
You don't love me
Is what I will hear

Yeah yeah
Hide your heart
You will
I will find it

I have come to save you
I'm going to steal you
I'm so bad yeah yeah
Run for cover

Gonna make you fall in love with me
So don't make promises
You can't keep
I will steal you in sleep

Going to make your senses fly
Yeah yeah
When you see me coming
Run for cover

In my arms you will be
Make you forget your way
And make you mine
Oh baby I will

I will stop your conversations
In two minutes time
I have come to save you
Because your mine

Better run for cover
Yeah yeah
In front of a crowd
I will not tease you

I will not leave you
I will meet you
Even if you lose your eye sight
I will see even if you make a reason

I will throw in my heart
I have come to save you
I will not leave
I love you

poem by Angel Plant
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My Father's Not Mine

My father's flown across the boundaries,
To fight against our nation's enemies,
Don't know if he would be back on time,
Come and ask me that how was I,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.

I tell eveyone he'll be back soon,
But how'd I know if he lost his soul at noon,
Happy I'd be if he reaches home with a smile,
Tear in my eyesif the doorbell rings with our nation's emblem coming from miles,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.

I fear of burning his dead and,
Leaving his burnt remains in the river,
Shower which I take in the morning,
Could be his with blood and not water,
Why do they fight? maiking innocent cry,
I too cry for the same thing,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.

And now I know,
That he's no more,
The man who earned our bread,
Is unknowingly dead,
I don't know how my time would fly,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.

poem by Pronit Chatterjee
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The Fence

I built the fence on a cold grey hill
With bar and shovel and axe and maul
And quite a measure of toil and will,
For I needed a paddock to clear and till,
So I dug the holes by the bloodwoods tall
And I felled the ones that grew on the line
And cut them into a handy length
That would serve the purpose of my design,
For each a link in the fence's spine,
And each would add to the fence its strength.

Each post I barked, and I sapped and stood
In a line as straight as a rifle shot,
And the sap ran red from the honest wood
Of the native gum that was sound and good
And with age would harden and never rot,
Then the wire, I strung, and I strained it tight,
And each post I fixed to the jagged wire,
So my fence was finished by fall of night
When my gaze was drawn to a distant light
And I turned for the warmth of home and fire.

© Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012

poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Fencing

fence out despair
it does nothing good for the grass on the yard
fence in hope
for they are like finches that feed on the grains
to include the wastes of the kitchen
fence out doubt
they do nothing but crowd the room
like uninvited guests
who always ask for glasses of wine
though you want to close out
but they always persist in drunkenness
fence it love
you know what it can do to your bed
and the linens
and the bathroom
it gives you a sense of beginning
a feeling of eternity
when you have forgotten how to moan
fence out loneliness
you know how it destroys you
and deprives you of much needed sleep
when your eyes sink
like boats in the whirlpools of madness

but at any rate when these fenced out matters
still remain
such as the loneliness that you cannot drive away
or the doubt that still cling like dusts in the furniture
no matter how you dust them away
or the despair that appears like blood stains
in your pastel green carpets

well, why not be with them
and make them feel that they are at home with you
perhaps
they mean no harm
they do nothing
except to make you feel
that you are not alone
that happiness is a freak
that life is like all these
whole in sadness
undefeated in our psychological wars
that after all
they are your sources of strength
the tests of your mettle.

welcome them
after all they have nothing to stay
except in your
house of realities.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Allowing Us To Clear Our Heads

What I have done,
Personally...
To ensure the new neighbors,
Adhere to policies that have been in effect...
For many years,
Is to suggest and recommend...
Their children not smoke pot in the front yard.
Or put their trash on the curb,
For the garbage men to pick up the next day.

What I have done personally,
Is to show them how to put their trash...
In garbage bags FIRST.
And even though it has been slow for them to catch on,
The rest of the neighbors and myself...
Have agreed to meet the new residents,
In their backyard after midnight behind a closed and locked fence...
When all of the kids have been safely tied to their beds.
Allowing us to clear our heads and live together in peace.

'And you say you have a prescription for this? '

~I begged my doctor to find a medical need.~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 18

I noticed the son of a rich man, sitting on the grave of his father and quarreling with a dervish-boy, saying: ‘The sarcophagus of my father’s tomb is of stone and its epitaph is elegant. The pavement is of marble, tesselated with turquois-like bricks. But what resembles thy father’s grave? It consists of two contiguous bricks with two handfuls of mud thrown over it.’ The dervish-boy listened to all this and then observed: ‘By the time thy father is able to shake off those heavy stones which cover him, mine will have reached paradise.’

An ass with a light burden
No doubt walks easily.
A dervish who carries only the load of poverty
Will also arrive lightly burdened at the gate of death
Whilst he who lived in happiness, wealth and ease
Will undoubtedly on all these accounts die hard.
At all events, a prisoner who escapes from all his bonds
Is to be considered more happy than an amir taken prisoner.

poem by Sa di
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The Request

The sun that you stole
Was mine.
The house that you threw into darkness,
Was mine.

The sunshine that smiles in your home, is mine.
My life is bleak without it,
The odor of my grief is heavy on it,
It was mine yesterday and is mine today.

It is I, bereft of light, who am its father.
It is my fire that is embedded in its limbs.
The smell of my sun is in it,
The sun that was stolen from me in broad daylight.

But you cannot be blamed for this theft.
The sun has been stolen in every era.
An afternoon has always died,
Weeping for the sun.

I, lightless, beamless, have a request,
I, a faithless father, stand at your door.
Let me place a sun upon your forehead,
And beg you for my sunlight.

I, who died long ago, beg you to bestow this on me.
Never utter my name again in the sunlight.
If ever some ray asks a question, remain silent,
Or call me a ‘black sun' and let it go.

This is the request of a father of sunlight.
From this day, on my sunshine is dead to me
Along with the sun it is yours now,
Wherever it smiles, is the home if its father.

The sun that you stole
Was mine.
The house that you threw into darkness,
Was mine.

[Translated from 'Arjoi' by Suman Kashyap]

poem by Shiv Kumar Batalvi
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