For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers.
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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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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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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.
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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Hunters Lullaby
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Hes deep in the forest so wild
And he cannot take his wife with him
He cannot take his child
Your fathers gone a-hunting
In the quicksand and the clay
And a woman cannot follow him
Although she knows the way
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Through the silver and the glass
Where only greed can enter
But spirit, spirit cannot pass
Your fathers gone a-hunting
For the beast well never cannot bind
And he leaves a baby sleeping
And his blessings all behind
Your fathers gone a-hunting
And hes lost his lucky charm
And hes lost the guardian heart
That keeps the hunter from the harm
Your fathers gone a-hunting
He asked me to say goodbye
And he warned me not to stop him
I wouldnt, I wouldnt even try
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Oft saw my dad cry (to dad)
A father's love
Can never match
A mother's…
At least in
Children's eyes…
A father's love
Cannot be shown
As easily
As in
a mother's sighs
A father's love
Is of labor dear
More distant so by nature
than… in tender
nurture lies
A father's love
Is of hidden tears
And rarely
Shown raw
emotions
Held within
A rough façade
Of gentle heart…
Of kind and
Cloistered emotions
Fathers withhold
Within themselves
Caring feelings (and memories)
Of small smiles
And big wide eyes
Fathers hold back
Tears inside while…
drying other's eyes
Yet fathers weep Inside,
so deep…most children
Know not why
And more than once
I caught a peek of tears
In my dad's eyes
And on his cheek
Fathers are …
of stern stuff made
Yet fathers
…Often cry…
poem by David Whalen
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For Fathers On Father's Day
Seeing as Father's Day is drawing near
Prepare good fathers for the high chairs
Where to receive some genuine cheers
For how much they've truly cared
And for the time that they've shared
Doing the duties of sensitive fathers
Not like those men who are careless
Living their lives tough and heartless
Standing together let's not be scared
Of saying what should've been declared
Truth is there are some who are called fathers
Although they aren't doing the duty of fathers
Even though by name they are known to be
So far their fatherly duty is still yet to be seen
Father, if yesterday you were going your own ways
But today you become a father change your ways
Prepare to start taking on the duty of a father
Be aware this could mean it's time to work harder
With the woman whose child you are the father
Given that God has been the very first father
He has exemplified us of how to take care
In every way that we should live and share
Similar to how He does it for all
Even as ‘He maketh His sun to rise
On the evil and on the good,
And sendeth the rain on the just
And on the unjust (Matt5: 45) '
I will say three cheers due
Unto all the caring fathers
Though I wish every father
Good, bad or unlikable
Happy Father's Day!
All right reserved
poem by Clarence Prince
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Fathers Are The Men From Sky
Fathers, the men who are like a pen
We never can see whatever is going on inside them
But suddenly that pen is finished and then?
Fathers, the men who try hard for the pleasure of their family
They just want the less for themselves because of the comfort of their children
Looking forward to spend a day with his family in a place that is hilly
Fathers, the men who justify the wishes of their children to their own wishes
They just live to see the victory of their children and family
But their life sometimes is as short as the golden fishes
Fathers, the men who are noble, they leave their tired face out of the house's door
They came in with a happy face, but we know they are tired from inside
We know that they are sad from the core.
Fathers, the men who listen to the pain of family members
People who are powerful to solve the problems and hard conditions
But no one has the ear to understand them; they just talk with the embers
Fathers,
Warm and kind people who never bother
Fathers,
Who are unique in their way, after them there is no tother
Fathers,
Are the men who are like the kind brothers.
poem by Ellias Anderson
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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
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Fathers Son
I am my fathers son
I never know when to shut up
I aint foolin no one
I am my fathers son
He raised me on his own
Love was the last thing he’s shown
But I don’t cry about him yet
I am my fathers clone
It’s 4 a.m. and I’m sneakin down
To the basement to get his last cigarette
Light it in the mirror and see my reflection
Of him, staring back at me
And I say to myself, he aint me
Thank god I’ve got my mama’s eyes
They’re what keep me inside
I aint foolin no one
I’m a mama’s boy
But I’m my fathers son
poem by Robbie Squires
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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
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Money And Profit
what it comes down to
...in the end is...
the political machine,
...be it Democrat,
.....or Republican,
runs on the wheels
...of money and profit!
they'll throw a bone to the poor,
........now and then,
wave issues like flags,
....quote the founding fathers
.......when it behooves them.
but in the end.....
....money and profit.
tell me....
what did the founding fathers
...do in a similar situation?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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
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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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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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Our Generation
Our generation
Our fathers' heirs,
We now inherit what they once called theirs.
The Crime, the Poverty,
The Guilt, the Hate;
But is it too late to recreate?
A time existing long ago
When our fathers made the things we now know as home.
Our generation
Our fathers' heirs,
We must now fix what they once called theirs.
The Crime, the Poverty,
The Guilt, the Hate;
But is it too late to recreate?
A people just like you and me,
Who tried to help the world so destructively.
Our generation
Our fathers' gem,
We have no choice,
We are now them.
The earth is not an inheritance of our fathers, nor one for our sons.