Parenthood [ I never knew a Father ]
Parenthhood!
I never knew a father
He did the did
And went to sleep
On my mother's laps
He left me to sink
If not fate I would
Be gone in oblivion
.
Hollywood, can you
Still make a character?
Today, my father is
Such poor character
His life is suspended
In a cliff hanger
And I can't make
It any better.
poem by Efe Benjamin

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Related quotes
Fairweather Father
(carly simon)
Fairweather father
Fairweather father
Doesnt like to hear the baby cry
Doesnt like to about the aches and pains
Of the day gone by
Of the day gone by
But the mother advertised as a bargain wife
Shed make things easy for the rest of his life
And to make herself more appealing
Shed think only of him and forget her own feelings
Fairweather father
Fairweather father
Wants his wife to be the truckdriver
Wants his wife to be the gardener
And still look like a hollywood starlet
And still look like a hollywood starlet
So the mother gets mad and she leaves town
That brings the father and the baby down
She wants the father to find her
Drinkin orange pop in the seedy greek diner
Fairweather father
Fairweather father
Gets her back and gets up in the night
Loves her so much and holds the baby tight
Aint that enough to make you cry
Aint that enough to make you cry
Fairweather father
Fairweather father
Doesnt like to hear the baby cry
Doesnt like to know about the aches and pains
Of the day gone by
Of the day gone by
song performed by by Carly Simon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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

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Nature
Weather constantly changes.
No character, only dynamic.
Dull and dreary,
Or bitter and cold,
Or bright and shiny.
This is mother nature.
She is of this world.
She dictates the mood.
She affects mine.
Emotions, constantly changing.
Personality has dynamic,
But lacks character.
It is constantly changing.
Bitter and resentful,
Frustrated and annoyed
Happy & joyous.
This is human nature.
It is of this world.
It dictates our mood.
It affects another.
Mother nature cannot be controlled.
For she is not ours.
Yet mother nature controls me,
Though I am not hers.
Together, we must exist.
We must accept each as we both are.
Though one affects the other.
Based on emotion, not character.
During the storm,
The sky is still the sky,
The ground, is still the ground
The sun is still the sun.
This is the character of mother nature.
The snow may cover the ground,
But the ground remains.
The clouds may cover the sun,
But the sun remains.
Character is always constant.
Nature affects character.
Character is patience, kindness,
Compassion, empathy, forgiving.
Plain and simple,
Our character is love.
Human nature covers human character,
Although it might not be seen,
It still remains.
It is simply covered.
For the mother is of this earth,
The father is of the next.
Emotion defies logic, as logic can defy emotion.
Follow logic?
Or follow emotion?
One cannot follow both.
This is Father God.
Character is not of this world.
It asks us to do right.
Affecting all around us.
It is the silver lining that reminds us.
The sun never disappeared.
It was just covered by nature's emotion.
Even behind the clouds,
It still shines bright.
As does my love.
For which I will live,
Will determine my legacy.
I am the sun.
I am warm.
I am a son.
I am love.
I have a Father and a Mother.
I love them both,
But which defines my creation?
Which one is my first?
Which is my last?
Which is my everything?
First was,
Last is,
And everything always will be.
Like a scale,
One pan determines the position of the other.
The centre, will never change.
It determines the balance.
Human nature on the pans.
Character in the center.
In which do I put my faith?
poem by Ryan Lee Morris

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My Father's Eulogy
Ladies and Gentlemen,
You are all gathered here today
To pay your respects to someone you knew.
However,
I come today not to bury my father
But set him free.
You see
The man who was my father died
Along with his dreams
Many years back.
He was slowly crushed by disappointments
Until he no longer wished to fight
This shell was not the father of my childhood
Who stood straight as the redwoods
He is not the man who knew how to laugh and play.
My father bartered his pride for too small a price
And became a pauper.
His self esteem slipped away long before his last breath.
He had been trying to suffocate himself
Under his own weight.
I knew him when he still had a twinkle in his eyes.
So,
Do not cry for this body before you
Because you never met the actual soul
That so long ago was housed in his body.
He deformed himself to the extent
That even he no longer recognized himself in his reflection.
Perhaps it was easier not remembering
Who he use to be.
I inherited my sense of humor, my love of music,
My quickness and speed from my father,
Even my biting sarcasm.
My spirit seems to be my mother's.
For those of you who knew him in his youth
You knew him better than me
For those of you who knew him with a young family
You knew him as well as me.
For those of you who met him once he was broken
You may have seen a glimmer of who he use to be,
And, that, on a good day.
I will say again,
Thank you for your presence
I will ask you kindly,
Not to weep.
My father left this life long ago
Because in his dreams
He could hide from the world and find his peace.
Let him sleep a last long slumber
And,
I wish him beautiful dreams.
poem by Rabia Minhas

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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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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

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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Father’s Day
A father loves his children,
More than words can say;
Dad’s the head of family –
This was so till today!
A father toils for children,
From morn, throughout day;
So that all can eat good food,
He gives his hard-earned pay!
A father teaches children
And tells what life is;
A good dad chides and canes you,
If studies, you do miss.
A father tells his children
About love of God;
He reads the Bible verses,
And warns about God’s rod.
A father trains his children
Moulds their character;
He helps them know, right from wrong,
And live a life better.
A father guides his children,
Walk on sinless roads;
To live a life of fortitude,
And righteousness, he goads!
Let children wish their father,
‘Happy Father’s Day! ’
Thank God for giving this nice man –
A blessing till this day!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-15-2008
poem by John Celes

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Father's Day,2012
O thank your dad for what you are today!
In life, a pivotal role, he does play;
‘His contribution is priceless, ' let's say;
Like mother, father gives bliss anyway!
A father's place, no person else can take;
A father's love is of a special make;
He toils unceasingly for family's sake;
He tells the members what is called as fake!
A fatherless child becomes unruly;
A child with father lives so casually;
With father gone, life can turn cruelly;
A father gives all, joy in family!
Respect your father for his weighs in gold;
He teaches you to be righteous and bold;
He is a fountain of wisdom when old;
His sacrifices most, remain untold!
So, wish your father on this special day;
Do greet him, hug him, kiss him anyway;
A father means a lot in life some way;
Return his love is some form, come what may!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-06-12
poem by John Celes

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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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No father?
i told my father it was so and i got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere i had to go and nothing i had to do
i stand before you father
but you refuse to see
oh father, have you forgotten me?
i kneel before you father
but you do not feel
i am your flesh and same blood
if only you knew
if only i could tell you your an ass
if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through
if only you were around to say good job
as a father you have failed
as a father you were never there
i am ill be gotten history
...no father?
poem by Calvin Jenkins

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My Father Was A Loser
My Father Was A Loser.
My Father Was A Punk.
My Father Was Abussive.
My Father Was A Drunk.
My Father Was Stricked.
My Father Was Mean.
My Father Did Drugs.
My Father Was A Feen.
On My 13th Birthday, My Father Left My Mom.
Ever Since Then, My Life Became Calm.
poem by Tania Nuno

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I travel fifty years back when I hear your melancholy song
'Though he's black very handsome and a strong character,
Really a loving father.'
Mom always says when she's alive.
Oh! Dear Father, you left us almost fifty years ago,
Under an Aircraft Hangar you met a tragic accident.
Yes! Mom is right and you struggled to die for three days
And how sad when you closed eyes forever?
You wanted to make your three sons famous Soccer players,
But the youngest already left and lives in your proximity,
The eldest idles on Motherland and I am here like a football.
They kick me here & there but not into the goal
And I wait till the referee whistles saying that the game is over.
*Who keeps a dollar under my sheet?
I dedicate this poem to Luther.Vandross for his magical song* 'To dance with my father again'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Good Character
I once sojourned in a land,
Seeking for solution to my bewildermernt.
The more I probed, the more I was confused.
Why do some fail where others succeed?
I called upon the deep to open my eyes
Suddenly, I found honour as the offspring
Of good character,
I also discorvered that success
Is embeded in good attitude
I then concluded that:
Good character is the torchlight to our paths
Good attitude is like a garment we wear daily
Through which people measure us
It is the mirror of our lives
I now know that good character
Is the backbone of success
Your father may have plenty
Like the Altilantic ocean
Your mother may have fleet of ships
You may have great inheritance
If you lacked good character
Your success will be like putrefied eggs
People will run away from
Like an isolated leper.
So, in all your ways
Be of good character
poem by Babatunde Aremu

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Listen To Your Mother
'Wait till your Father get's home'
that was what my Mother would say
but he'd see me all well behaved
so I'd be off out again to play.
'Look at the state of your clothes'
that was what my Mother would say
but I'd tell her someone pushed me over
when really I'd played Football most of the day.
'Don't you forget to do your homework'
that was what my Mother would say
but instead of writing about Kings of England
I'd be reading about Footballers like Greaves and Pele.
'Your a right little cheeky Monkey '
that was what my Mother would say
but I'd tell her that she loved me really
which always seemed to make her day.
'I won't be around for ever you know'
that was what my mother used to say
'What do you mean of course you will
you'll be here in the house all old and Grey.'
'I really miss your Mother you know '
that was what my Father used to say
but I thought she'd be here forever
nobody told me that Mothers can pass away.
But we had a great Mother and Son relationship
and she knew I was just being a young lad
but when I'm down I just think of her
and those thoughts always make me feel glad.
poem by Kevin Halls

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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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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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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
The small buns you bought for me still smell good,
The grapes brought, coming from city is still my favorite food;
The fruits you brought me with roots; are they heaven sent?
Yet I didn’t pay any rent pay as you are my parent!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Do you know who my MAHATMA is? Oh, my brother!
He is not Mandela, nor Gandhi but my father
Who taught me A to Z rather?
What to do and what not to do, I gather!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
When I think of all the things you gave to me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
............................................. ................................................. .....
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now continue Your reading in part 2 the poem.
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2) contin'd in part 2.. Read it.
poem by Harindhar Reddy

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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock

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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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