Father Shouted
"Go to hell, father shouted"
It was addressed to me no doubt
How was I to take his outburst?
Sometimes, I felt. It was needed or must
We receive disrespectful words from elders
But they are all our well wishers
Even if something is said directly
They are not to be taken disrespectfully
In family sometimes youngsters get no notice
This is general feeling and practice
It doesn't mean they are neglected
They are looked after well and certainly acted
But as age advances, you got to forget
Life is meant for kids and their growth to let
If they want to behave in different manner
We need to give room and garner
No doubts elder behave irresponsibly
But need to remind them to act sensibly
Not to come out with extreme measure
This certainly does not help or assure
We must watch them to grow in healthy atmosphere
They should look towards us in dignified manner
It becomes then balanced approach to tackle
Where elders rush to the rescue in case of any troubles
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
Half won
I wished it to happen
It did not materialize even
I wished a death for foe
But that also did not take off or go
So many times we expect irrelevant
To take shape as per wish in present
It speaks of our sick mind
As that can never be expected to find
What drives us to believe in all such?
Not desperation but realities untouched
Something can't take off the ground
So it must be accepted as not sound
We are forced to believe in like weather forecast
That mars our journey with good start
If that is based on make believe theory
There shall bring only uncertainty and misery
We feel jealous of others progress
Where as it has nothing to do with us in any case
We fail to concentrate on what we have
Talk loose and irresponsibly behave
No one may appreciate our views
Even though they may have same point views
At least they conceal it behind the mask
Where as people like me even at courtesy sake fail to ask
We need to be reasonable in approach
Nothing comes easily on the way as such
We need to strive hard and gain access
Then only happiness may be seen on the face
Let us have good manner in all our dealings
No ill will or any sort of that feelings
"Perform well and expect good" legendry tale goes on
"Sow the seeds and reap the food" battle may be half won
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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You Are Old Father William
"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray what is the reason for that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box --
Allow me to sell you a couple?"
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you mange to do it?"
"In my youth," said his fater, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as every;
Yet you balanced an eel on the tend of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )
"Are you deaf, Father William!" the young man said,
"Did you hear what I told you just now?
"Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head
"Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
"A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
"Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
"Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down
"Entitled 'The Hunt of the Snark?'"
"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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The Only True King
From the first day my eyes saw him I knew my life was complete, the pride within
Me begged to shut out, announcing to the world the joyous love I felt inside,
Tears rolled down my face uncontrollable from the happiness I felt inside. NIne long
months came and went, eagerly I awaited to see my son, "My Son" these words hold
A new meaning to me, since the beginning of my manhood, I prayed for a son to call
My own. In life when a pray is answered, one should give the greatest thanks all of "unconditional love."
As I watch him grow, I watch myself grow as well. We share a
Bond together which will last a life time, He is the heir to my thrown, the wind in
My sails, the anchor which keeps me stable. He is MY SON - Justin
poem by Richard James Marrero
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If Trees Could Talk
If trees could talk, what would they say?
That would definitely be question of the day.
They'd say, "Help us! Help us! We're being chopped down! "
That wouldn't help as our oxygen would frown.
They'd say, "Help us! We're being turned into furniture! "
That doesn't sound like much of an adventure.
They'd say, "Help us! Our branches are losing leaves! "
That shouldn't be the case until Christmas Eve.
If trees could talk, what would they say?
They'd say, "We watch the children who like to play."
There are some nice things too that trees would utter,
Like, "We're as important to life as bread is to butter."
Sadly, trees are like some of us; they speak in silence.
But do they really deserve to be treated with violence?
poem by Stephen Cahill Furlong
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I Wrung My Hands
I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . .
"Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?"
-- Because I have made my loved one drunk
with an astringent sadness.
I'll never forget. He went out, reeling;
his mouth was twisted, desolate. . .
I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters,
and followed him as far as the gate.
And shouted, choking: "I meant it all
in fun. Don't leave me, or I'll die of pain."
He smiled at me -- oh so calmly, terribly --
and said: "Why don't you get out of the rain?"
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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Us Two
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.
"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.
"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.
"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."
So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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A Matter of Knack
Jock M'Pherson was a person who was boastful in conversin',
But respectable and ponderous and dignified withal!
Con M'Carty was a party who was something of a smarty,
And beside the big M'Pherson looked particularly small;
But Cornelius M'Carty, he was artful, after all!
When Cornelius M'Carty thought M'Pherson was his dart, he
Made a wager he could carry him a mile along the track;
Which, considering M'Pherson was a very weighty person,
Was a risky undertaking for M'Carty's little back.
But Cornelius protested it depended on the knack!
"Take yer coat off!" called M'Carty, and M'Pherson gave a start, he
Hadn't bargained for proceedings the reverse of dignified!
But he felt he had the best of the arrangement. "Take yer vest off!"
Said M'Carty; and M'Pherson very graciously complied.
It was in the private parlor, and the crowd was all outside.
"Take yer boots off!" said M'Carty in a cheerful tone and hearty,
But M'Pherson he objected that the crowd would see his toes.
Said M'Carty, "See, M'Pherson, there ain't any sense in cursin',
Take yer boots off, I don't reckon to be handicapped with those!
I am not the sort of juggins you apparently suppose!"
This M'Pherson's wrath arouses. "But," said he, "I'll keep me trousers!"
"Not a trouser!" said M'Carty, "or to me the wager goes.
The conditions you're reversin'; I will carry you, M'Pherson,
But the wager doesn't say a blessed word about yer clothes!"
That was how the small M'Carty had M'Pherson by the nose!
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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What is—
215
What is—"Paradise"—
Who live there—
Are they "Farmers"—
Do they "hoe"—
Do they know that this is "Amherst"—
And that I—am coming—too—
Do they wear "new shoes"—in "Eden"—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won't they scold us—when we're homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—
You are sure there's such a person
As "a Father"—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls "die"—
I shan't walk the "Jasper"—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won't laugh at me—
Maybe—"Eden" a'n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A Strange Wild Song
He thought he saw an Elephant
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
"At length I realize," he said,
"The bitterness of life!"
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
"Unless you leave this house," he said,
"I'll send for the police!"
he thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
"The one thing I regret," he said,
"Is that it cannot speak!"
He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
"If this should stay to dine," he said,
"There won't be much for us!"
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a Coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
"Were I to swallow this," he said,
"I should be very ill!"
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
"Poor thing," he said, "poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!"
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Three Oranges
first time my father overheard me listening to
this bit of music he asked me,
"what is it?"
"it's called Love For Three Oranges,"
I informed him.
"boy," he said, "that's getting it
cheap."
he meant sex.
listening to it
I always imagined three oranges
sitting there,
you know how orange they can
get,
so mightily orange.
maybe Prokofiev had meant
what my father
thought.
if so, I preferred it the
other way
the most horrible thing
I could think of
was part of me being
what ejaculated out of the
end of his
stupid penis.
I will never forgive him
for that,
his trick that I am stuck
with,
I find no nobility in
parenthood.
I say kill the Father
before he makes more
such as
I.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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My Future
"Let's make him a sailor," said Father,
"And he will adventure the sea."
"A soldier," said Mother, "is rather
What I would prefer him to be."
"A lawyer," said Father, "would please me,
For then he could draw up my will."
"A doctor," said Mother, "would ease me;
Maybe he could give me a pill."
Said Father: "Lt's make him a curate,
A Bishop in gaiters to be."
Said Mother: "I couldn't endure it
To have Willie preaching to me."
Said Father: ""Let him be a poet;
So often he's gathering wool."
Said Mother with temper: "Oh stow it!
You know it, a poet's a fool."
Said Farther: "Your son is a duffer,
A stupid and mischievous elf."
Said Mother, who's rather a huffer:
"That's right - he takes after yourself."
Controlling parental emotion
They turned to me, seeking a cue,
And sudden conceived the bright notion
To ask what I wanted to do.
Said I: "my ambition is modest:
A clown in a circus I'd be,
And turn somersaults in the sawdust
With audience laughing at me."
. . . Poor parents! they're dead and decaying,
But I am a clown as you see;
And though in no circus I'm playing,
How people are laughing at me!
poem by Robert William Service
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Revolt In The Ranks
I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half
handicapping tomorrow's
card.
when am I going to get at the poems?
well, they'll just have to wait
they'll have to warm their feet in the
anteroom
where they'll sit gossiping about
me.
"this Chinaski, doesn't he realize that
without us he would have long ago
gone mad, been dead?"
"he knows, but he thinks he can keep
us at his beck and call!"
"he's an ingrate!"
"let's give him writer's block!"
"yeah!"
"yeah!& quot;
"yeah!"
the little poems kick up their heels
and laugh.
then the biggest one gets up and
walks toward the door.
"hey, where are you going?" he is
asked.
"somewhere where I am
appreciated."
then, he
and the others
vanish.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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The Little Big Man
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Grand-Père
And so when he reached my bed
The General made a stand:
"My brave young fellow," he said,
"I would shake your hand."
So I lifted my arm, the right,
With never a hand at all;
Only a stump, a sight
Fit to appal.
"Well, well. Now that's too bad!
That's sorrowful luck," he said;
"But there! You give me, my lad,
The left instead."
So from under the blanket's rim
I raised and showed him the other,
A snag as ugly and grim
As its ugly brother.
He looked at each jagged wrist;
He looked, but he did not speak;
And then he bent down and kissed
Me on either cheek.
You wonder now I don't mind
I hadn't a hand to offer. . . .
They tell me (you know I'm blind)
'Twas Grand-Père Joffre.
poem by Robert William Service
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Wolfe demanded during dying
678
Wolfe demanded during dying
"Which obtain the Day"?
"General, the British"—"Easy"
Answered Wolfe "to die"
Montcalm, his opposing Spirit
Rendered with a smile
"Sweet" said he "my own Surrender
Liberty's beguile"
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Fascination
My little brother crouches down, studying the ground, intently.
His porky legs look cute in their long grey socks and he doesn't
seem to notice I am here.
I creep over beside him to see that which holds his attention.
The ground is alive with ants, little tiny creatures moving in never
ending formation.
We both crouch to watch the ants, studying them, enthralled.
Mother is wondering where we are, calling to us.
"We're watching little men marching, " we reply, giggling
She rushes out, hands dripping with soap suds, pinny wet.
"Men! " she says, in a worried tone. "What men? "
"Ant men" we say. "they're playing soldiers".
poem by Ruth Walters
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A.d.d
She told me that she had A.D.D
I asked her what was one plus two, she said: "three"
I was so impressed that I asked her again
What was seven plus three, and she said: "ten"
I asked her more additions and she got them all correct
She was very intelligent by what I could detect
Then as I tried to talk to her more, but she got distracted
I then tried to get her attention then she overreacted
She then told me something that threw me for a shock
Her having A.D.D, wasn't what I had thought
She could add quickly and correctly which was true
But paying attention to others she could not do
She was easily distracted from the projects she was on
And also forgetful from the tasks she's undergone
She said she is sometimes forgetful from day to day
Then she looked at me and asked; "what did I say? "
I asked her some more questions and she never listened
So I spoke directly to her, and her eyes they glistened
She spoke to me, then she called me someone else's name
"And I don't like to follow instructions! " to me she did exclaim
"I won't finish my work or duties or chores and I never will"
"Only thing that helps me, if and when I take a small pill"
"I will avoid the things that will take a lot of mental strain"
"As this is who I am, and my thoughts and my brain"
Then I asked her what was one plus one and she said: "two"
She then looked at me and walked away, and said: "adieu."
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Thoughts in a Far Country
I rise and applaud, in the patriot manner,
Whenever (as often) I hear
The palpitanat strains of "The Star Spangled Banner,"--
I shout and cheer.
And also, to show my unbound devotion,
I jump to my feet with a "Whee!"
Whenever "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean"
Is played near me.
My fervour's so hot and my ardour so searing--
I'm hoarse for a couple of days--
You've heard me, I'm positive, joyously cheering
"The Marsailles"
I holler for "Dixie." I go off my noodle,
I whistle, I pound, and I stamp
Whenever an orchestra plays "Yankee Doodle,"
Or "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp."
But if you would enter my confidence, reader,
Know that I'd go clean off my dome,
And madly embrace any orchestra leader
For "Home, Sweet Home."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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