The sins of the fathers are often visited upon the sons-in-law.
quote by Joan Kiser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers Always Want Theirs Sons To Be Happy
mothers always want their sons to be happy
and so even if they marry someone
whom their fathers dislike
it is always them who settle for a compromise
and tell fathers to be flexible sometimes
not to hurt the hearts of sons
but sometimes when sons want something else
that only mothers understand
something that fathers cannot really compromise
mothers still compromise
and walk a mile farther
just to make their sons happy
and their sons leave them
to places that only mothers
by their loving hearts
know.
only mothers, yes only mothers,
and no one else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every man is responsible only for his own acts. The sons do not inherit the sins of the fathers. But can we say: that was long ago, they were different?
quote by Aleksander Kwasniewski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family of War
Every morning I awake I fall to my knees and pray.
God, please make the war in Iraq come to end.
There are too many fathers and sons come home
in pine boxes. There are too many mothers and daughters
doing the same. Leaving behind fathers and sons mothers
and daughter with a last memory of them waving goodbye.
There is too much blood and tears of fathers and sons mothers
and daughters being shed all in the name of peace.
God please let our leaders see how many families are dying
and that war can never bring peace. Only love can.
This prayer is my gun and God you’re the bullet I’m shooting
to end this Family of War.
Confessing Sins
when guilt is full
there comes a time when we think of
the possibility of confessing our sins,
the usual sins of omissions
more than our sins of commissions,
to a friend perhaps, but you doubt
for he has more sins than you have
and it might as well end
on the reverse, you the listening tree
and he the barking dog,
or perhaps to a religious group but
you shy away because of their number
and you might as well at the end be the
subject of their gossip
in town for a week or so,
and so you become a catholic again
on a Sunday before your parish priest
you kneel down and confess your sins,
and your dismay the priest says,
'
my son these are not sins anymore
under the new doctrines
with an ending, don't worry my boy
you'll do penance just the same
say three our fathers and three hail Mary's
and don't come back
your sins are the same as mine'
what comfort is this, when sins are confessed
to a person on the same misery and guilt as we are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mothers And Daughters / Fathers And Sons
Neil Diamond - Mothers and Daughters, Fathers and Sons
And so they came with perfect schemes
And precious dreams that made them one
One by one
Oh, and there they stood lost in the haze
With spirits blazing like the sun
Mothers and daughters,
Fathers and sons
They held the light
Yes they did
And it shined all night
Oh, all night
And they took the blows
Yes they did
Never letting go
Oh no, oh no
Oh no
And so they came with perfect schemes
And precious dreams that made them one
One by one
Oh, look up and see the eagles fly
And fill the sky beneath the sun
Mothers and daughters,
Fathers and sons
You hold the light
Yes you do
And you've got the right
Oh, got the right
And you'll feel the blows
Yes you will
Don't you dare let go
Oh no, oh no
Said that we have the right
Yes we do
It's down in black and white
Oh oh, oh oh
And we made it so
Yes we did
And we won't let go
Oh no, oh no
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one would be foolish enough to choose war over peace--in peace sons bury their fathers, but in war fathers bury their sons.
quote by Croesus of Lydia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.
The Sins of the Fathers
"And the sins of the fathers shall be
visited upon the heads of the children,
even unto the third and fourth
generation of them that hate me."
Well, then I hate thee, unrighteous picture;
Wicked image, I hate thee;
So, strike with thy vengeance
The heads of those little men
Who come blindly.
It will be a brave thing.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons.
Son can be a rival/.
I taught my son lessons on singing
And made him with my sweats a great singer.
Sons’ glory is fathers’ glory.
His glory is my glory.
His wings spread and mine shrunk.
People thronged around him and spared me.
They didn’t say he was the great;
They said I was no where near him.
His glory is not my glory;
Sons’ glory is not fathers’ glory.
Can there be two heroes in a play?
Should he outlive me in the posterity?
He is my rival, no more a son.
11.02.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Fathers Eyes
(by eric clapton)
Sailing down behind the sun,
Waiting for my prince to come.
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again.
Just a toerag on the run.
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him?
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
When I look in my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies.
And as I watch this seedling grow,
Feel my heart start to overflow.
Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
Thats when I need them,
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Thats when I need my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears.
Im like a bridge that was washed away;
My foundations were made of clay.
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, Ive realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
I looked into my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Cry, I Smile
Why do you cry my love?
I cry for the cruelty,
Hatred, anger and slaughter.
I cry for the pain and torture.
I cry for the loss and fear
And darkness.
I cry for you,
And I cry for me.
I cry for our fathers, mothers,
Daughters and sons.
I cry for everyone.
Why do you smile my love?
I smile for the sunshine,
The new day and the gentle rain.
I smile for love and change
And laughter.
I smile for the flowers,
The breeze in the haystack.
I smile for peace,
And joy and calm water.
I smile for you,
And I smile for me.
I smile for our fathers, mothers,
Daughters and sons.
I smile for everyone.
poem by John McAndrew
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Separation: A Father’s Lament
Ever heard the catch cry?
Of men fathers in agony?
Wrenching bitter torn heart felt why?
Seems to echo to cut depths eternity!
“She has taken
my sons from me! ”
“And I will forsaken
never forgive her! ”
She has taken
my blood bonded sons spitefully.
Hate cries shalt never
forgive is hurt vindictive stupidity.
Yet instantaneous moderation
is fruit of seasoned good will maturity.
Wisdom’s decree is peace
forged retained in harmonious perpetuity.
I will not fight this division war.
I will not settle irreconcilable score.
I will walk forlorn quietly away.
Although my sons for now must stay.
My sons will not know where I am today.
My sons will not know where I am tomorrow.
For I have left in deepest gloomy sorrow.
A new Heart and Life I cannot swiftly borrow.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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this POEM assures YOU that....
this POEM is not
a product of a philosophical quibbling
not a part of guidance
and counseling like what sometimes
nagging mothers do
not a scolding like what fathers do
to their sons who are feeling lost
and unwanted
this poem shall not ask you to confess
your sins
like what religions do
calling for this and that
for absolution and deliverance
or purification
neither will this poem be a doctor
giving you the cure
for whatever sickness you have
this poem when you read it
till the last simply assures you
that you are not alone
when you read even if you do not try to understand
there is this comfort
that in our loneliness we are never alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mistrust
The mistrust spread over the world
Where does it first unfurl
From what cocoon does it uncurl
Do fathers mistrust mothers
Do mothers mistrust fathers
Do fathers mistrust sons
Do mothers mistrust daughters
Do we trust our own selves
If trust is not found at home
If mistrust is the legacy of home
Then what hope have we
That trust will be
Born into this place
Love of self and self alone
Brings to us this bone of mistrust
And enfleshes to its birth.
7/5/2009
poem by Claude H Oliver II
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride To Agadir
They rode in the morning
Casablanca to the west
On the atlas mountain foothills leading down to marakesh
For mohammed and morocco
We had taken up our guns
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
In the dry winds of summer
They were sharpening the blades.
They were riding to act upon the promise we had made.
With the fist and the dagger
With the rifle and the lance
We will suffer no intrusion from the infidels of france.
We will suffer no intrusion from the infidels of france.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
They could wait no more
In the burning sands on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Like the dogs of war
For the future of this land on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Though they were waiting
And they were fifty to our ten
They were easily outnumbered by a smaller force of men.
As the darkness was falling
They were soon to realize
We were going to relieve them of their god-forsaken lives.
We were going to relieve them of their god-forsaken lives.
They could wait no more
In the burning sands on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
Like the dogs of war
For the future of this land on the ride to agadir.
Ride, ride, ride, ride to agadir.
They rode in the morning
Casablanca to the west
On the atlas mountain foothills leading down to marakesh
For mohammed and morocco
We had taken up our guns
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
For the ashes of our fathers and the children of our sons.
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fathers
Our fathers all were poor,
Poorer our fathers' fathers;
Beyond, we dare not look.
We, the sons, keep store
Of tarnished gold that gathers
Around us from the night,
Record it in this book
That, when the line is drawn,
Credit and creditor gone,
Column and figure flown,
Will open into light.
Archaic fevers shake
Our healthy flesh and blood
Plumped in the passing day
And fed with pleasant food.
The fathers' anger and ache
Will not, will not away
And leave the living alone,
But on our careless brows
Faintly their furrows engrave
Like veinings in a stone,
Breathe in the sunny house
Nightmare of blackened bone,
Cellar and choking cave.
Panics and furies fly
Through our unhurried veins,
Heavenly lights and rains
Purify heart and eye,
Past agonies purify
And lay the sullen dust.
The angers will not away.
We hold our fathers' trust,
Wrong, riches, sorrow and all
Until they topple and fall,
And fallen let in the day.
poem by Edwin Muir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fathers Eyes
I may not be every mothers dream for her little girl,
And my face may not grace the mind of everyone in the world.
But thats all right, as long as I can have one wish I pray:
When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say,
Shes got her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that find the good in things,
When good is not around;
Eyes that find the source of help,
When help just cant be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
And on that day when we will pay for all the deeds we have done,
Good and bad theyll all be had to see by everyone.
And when youre called to stand and tell just what you saw in me,
More than anything I know, I want your words to be,
She had her fathers eyes,
Her fathers eyes;
Eyes that found the good in things,
When good was not around;
Eyes that found the source of help,
When help would not be found;
Eyes full of compassion,
Seeing every pain;
Knowing what youre going through,
And feeling it the same.
Just like my fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
My fathers eyes,
My fathers eyes,
Just like my fathers eyes.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Undeservedly you will atone for the sins of your fathers.