It Is 'Them' I Am Trying To Protect
I am not a ssshh...taker.
Cake baker.
Or a candlestick maker.
Nor am I one to ooze charm...
When my patience is tested,
By anyone thinking...
I'm an easy piece of meat to tease!
And there are folks in the world,
Who ask to be cussed out!
And...
I will oblige their requests.
I remember my Mom saying to me once,
'I don't care how strange you look.
I want my house cleaned when I come home.'
My parents were direct!
I wish 911 was around,
When my father use to just look at me...
With those eyes he had!
He would freeze me in this stare he had.
And I could not move!
I almost enjoyed my mother's whippings...
Just to escape from my father's silent stare.
He never laid a hand on my sisters and I.
He didn't have to.
My mother on the other hand...
Unleashed her punishment,
Like a category 5 tornado!
She was strict, loving...
And a crier when she whipped us!
~Why is she crying...again?
I'm the one in pain! ~
**Ma, tell Larry to leave me alone!
He gettin' on my nerves.**
~YOU...are going to spray some roaches!
And that's a promise! ~
God helped me fulfill that dream already.
Let's just say my childhood was just as dysfunctional,
As it was adventurous.
I was smoking and drinking with my parents,
When I was ten years old.
~Ma, did Daddy buy us any Budweiser? ~
'No! But there is some Manichevitz in the icebox.
And this time leave some for your sister! '
~...hmph! ~
We were 'special' children!
At least Reverand Branch thought so!
He had been the minister at Union Baptist Church.
That place is a different story.
I am not a ssshh...taker.
Cake baker.
Or a candlestick maker.
Nor am I one to ooze charm...
When my patience is tested,
By anyone thinking...
I'm an easy piece of meat to tease!
And there are folks in the world,
Who ask to be cussed out!
And...
I will oblige their requests.
Since they have no idea...
It is 'them' I am trying to protect.
And I do the best I can to chill,
Before any explosion occurs!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Baker Man
Well here comes a dance that will never be banned now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Yeah, stolen from a story called "The Baker's Man" now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
It's impossible too sweet to cross the land????
(Patty cake patty cake)
Put your favorite records on and start the show now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Abra-cadabra look at everyone go now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
Alakazam this dance has got to grow now
(Patty cake patty cake)
Well they tell me that it's optional to use your feet
But now you really don't need them if you keep your beat
Well Arthur Murray's gettin' blurry tryin' to learn that jive
When all the kids from coast to coast are really comin' alive
Well go tell the gang what a time you've had now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
This Friday night we'll start a regular fad now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
We'll do the Baker 'til it drives us mad now
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Come on and take a lesson now
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Clap your partner's hands
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Not too hard
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
Now slap her in the face
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man)
What a disgrace
(Choo choo choo choo-do choo choo)
(Patty cake patty cake)
(Patty cake patty cake baker's man
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers’ Day ‘08
North or south; east or west;
A mother’s love is always best!
Throughout its childhood, cleaned and dressed,
A mother gives baby, good rest.
A mother is the love-pillar;
A father is the source of strength;
A child is like caterpillar,
Metamorphosing in its length!
A mother keeps the home happy;
A mother cleans the babe’s nappy;
A mother tends to dear daddy;
A mom-less home cannot be sweet!
The angel in the house is mom!
The toiler of the home is mom;
The cleaner in the house is mom;
She knows all problems but keeps mum!
The chief-cook in the house is mom;
The teacher in the house is mom;
The care-taker is also mom;
She knowingly is sometimes dumb!
A spoilt-kid’s mom had spared the rod;
As children’s friend, mother looks odd;
For most things, mothers give the nod;
A mother is a demi-god!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-11-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother’s day
It was mother’s day
and you wanted your dead mother
to be alive again,
more sincerely than anything.
You even were angry with me
for not thinking about you
on that day
of you now being motherless
when you had a mother
for most of your life
and a father too
and that there was something empty,
something missing from your life,
and her being gone
was terrible on that particular day.
That you couldn’t make her breakfast,
pick nasturtiums
from the garden for her,
or even talk to her,
on that special day
and I said that I didn’t realize that you were
missing your mom so much,
and offered my sincere sympathy
and told you that we have to appreciate
our parents
while we still have them,
that life lies only in the hand of God,
that I had grown up without a father
and that my mother was the only parent
whom I really knew
and ironically the only woman
that didn’t leave me in the lurch
which made you angrier,
so much so that you slammed
the phone down in my ear
when I called to apologize
and I wondered why
the persons that we hold dear
leave so much pain
when they are gone
and what had gotten into you?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When She Played It Was On Her Piano
As a kid I had ambitions.
And the first of them was to do my chores,
Before my mother would come home from work.
And she would pack them on too!
'I told you to sweep this floor.'
I did!
'With what?
A sandwich?
Do it again.'
My sister, Mimmie, would look at me.
And smile!
I couldn't wait,
To give her the spray can...
To kill the roaches!
I didn't know we weren't suppose to have them,
Until I was eight years old!
And that's not a joke.
One day when my mother went to work,
I made sure Mimmie got introduced.
She's a grandmother now.
And every once in a while...
She will mention how mean I was to her.
Nobody is going to sit,
And enjoy me getting whipped!
And that has been my philosophy...
Learned very early in my life.
Those days are long gone.
And being assigned to responsibilites,
I believe every child needs.
However...
Too many parents have raised lazy and spoiled children.
Believing one day,
They will awaken and be accountable for their actions!
Today as I reflect on my childhood,
I am glad my mother did not allow me to go to sleep...
To chance an awakening to what I knew I should do.
What I had and was going to do got done,
Before I had an opportunity to give it thought.
Procrastination,
Was not a lesson my mother taught.
I've seen parents,
Do everything possible for their children.
To wonder at a later date in time,
Why their children disrespect them.
Even 'if' I looked as if I wanted to say something back,
My mother would put a 'switch' to my behind.
AND...
I would have to fine one she liked to use on me.
That was before the calling of 911.
Today...
They would call that child abuse.
When I grew up...
We got our 'butts' tore up.
Just for looking as 'if'...
We did not enjoy getting whippings!
And I aint hardly kidding.
How does that 'old' saying go?
~Spare the rod and spoil the child.~
Well...
Mimmie and I were very spoiled.
But...
A rocking of a boat,
Did not float at all...
With Ms Edna!
When she played,
It was on her piano!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where's Daddy?
My mother and I were close.
And had a unique relationship.
People thought I was a mama's boy.
And I didn't mind.
Since both my mother and I,
Would laugh when we discussed this.
I remember talking before I could walk.
And when we were out together publicly,
She would say to me...
'Please Larry, do not say one word.
I don't want anyone staring at you.'
~You mean like daddy does? ~
'Exactly.'
And when I got older,
When my sister Mimmie was born...
I use to ask my mother,
~Why is she so quiet? ~
'Give her time.
She's only a few months old.'
And...
When she did get older,
And we'd all be out in public...
My mother not once told her,
To be quiet.
I tried.
But she never listened to me.
And my father?
He would just stare at us in disbelief.
~Ma?
Where's daddy? ~
'Who knows? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Raw To Eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
Nibbled and a little bit uneasy
Difficult it is to please
Somebody who prefers
The taste of cake
Without the cheese
Picked over like forbidden fruit
From a garden stomped over with people
I want to be the one who leaves
A deliciousness to tease
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat.
Picked over like a piece of meat
Nibbled and a little bit uneasy
Difficult it is to please
Somebody who prefers
The taste of cake
Without the cheese
Picked over like forbidden fruit
From a garden stomped over with people
I want to be the one who leaves
A deliciousness to tease
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I've been regarded
Too raw to eat
Picked over like a piece of meat
But I have been regarded
Too raw to eat
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Taker
Hes a giver, hell give her
The kind of attention that shes never known
Hes a helper, hell help her
To open the doors that she cant on her own
Hes a lover, hell love her
In ways that she never has been loved before
And hes a getter, hell get her
By gettin her into the world shes been hungerin for
cause hes a taker, hell take her
To places and make her fly higher than shes ever dared to
Hell take his time before takin advantage
Takin her easy and slow
And after hes taken the body and soul
That she gives him, hell take her for granted
Then hell take off and leave her
Takin all of her pride as he goes
Yes, hes a taker, hell take her ...
Hes a charmer, and hell charm her
With money and manners that I never learned
Hes a leader, and hell lead her
Across pretty bridges hes planning to burn
Hes a talker, hell talk her
Right off of her feet, but he wont talk for long
Cause hes a doer, and hell do her
The way that I never
And damned if he wont do her wrong
cause hes a taker, hell take her
To places and make her fly higher than shes ever dared to
Hell take his time before takin advantage
Takin her easy and slow
And after hes taken the body and soul
That she gives him, hell take her for granted
Then hell take off and leave her
Takin all of her pride as he goes
Yes, hes a taker, hell take her ...
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come See About Me (feat. Conway Twitty)
Somebody listen, I'm a voice in the distance cryin'
Come see about me
I am a stranger in a world filled with anger
Come see about me
I'm gettin' weary tryin' to carry this load all by myself
I'm bone tired and fallin', can't you hear me callin'
I need somebody's help
I am a young man growin' wild across this land
Come see about me
I'm fourscore and twenty and I ain't got anybody
Come see about me
I'm somebody's children alone and forsaken, a wave
that's lost at sea
I'm right here behind you, I'm all around you,
so slow down
Turn around and you will see
I'm your mother, your sister and your brother
Come see about me
I am a baby, my mother ain't no lady
Come see about me
I am your maker, the giver and the taker
Come see about me
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Piece of Juicy Meat to Satisfy Me!
Don't fiddle with my love,
Or heartstrings.
To pluck them to get heated.
Then to walk out on a chemistry...
Just to get some empathy.
If you leave me with a final sting...
I could not forgive or forget,
Who did the giving.
And who will not be getting it!
I'm about to make up my mind...
I can get another to appreciate me!
I'm about to go out and find...
Another piece of juicy meat I know I'll love to eat!
A piece of juicy meat that's not a big tease.
Don't fiddle with my love,
Or heartstrings.
To pluck them to get heated.
Then to walk out on a chemistry!
Don't fiddle with my love,
Or heartstrings.
Just to get some empathy.
You wont get that not from me!
If you leave me with a final sting...
I could not forgive or forget,
Who did the giving.
And who will not be getting it!
I'm about to make up my mind...
I can get another to appreciate me!
I'm about to go and find...
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to satisfy me!
Don'tcha know,
I'm about to make up my mind...
I can get another to appreciate me!
I'm about to go and find...
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to satisfy me!
I'm about to make up my mind...
I can get another knowing,
What appreciation means!
I'm about to make up my mind...
I can get another to appreciate me!
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to please all my needs!
Another piece of juicy meat to satisfy me!
Another piece of juicy meat to give up my seed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taker
He's a giver he'll give her the kind of attention that she's never known
He's a teacher he'll teach her to open the doors that she can't on her own
He's a lover he'll love her in ways that she never has been loved before
He's a getter he'll get her by gettin' her into the world she's been hungerin' for
He's a charmer he'll charm her with money and manners that I never learned
He's a leader he'll lead her across pretty bridges he's plannin' to burn
He's a talker he'll talk her right off of her feet but he won't talk for long
Cause he's a doer he'll do her the way that I never damned if he won't do her wrong
Cause he's a taker he'll take her to places and make her
Fly higher than she's ever dared to
He'll take his time before takin' advantage takin' her easy and slow
And after he's taken the body and soul that she gives him
He'll take her for granted
Then he'll take off and leave her taken all of her pride as she goes
Yes he's a taker...
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Children Want Their Parents to do …?
Allow me to be born, mother –
Into the world, God made;
And let me glorify my Lord
In life, before I fade!
Allow me to grow well, father,
Into a healthy child;
And let me do great feats on earth,
Unlike a flow’r in wild!
Give me some special love, mother,
And nurture me with care;
Do spend enough time with your child –
‘I am your earthen-ware! ’
Protect me father, while I’m young,
Support my life’s bare needs;
I do not want to be orphaned,
Or taught to do misdeeds!
Take care of all my wants, parents,
Climb me up life’s ladder;
The modern world gives bleak chances;
Keep me always gladder!
Help me to walk and run and play;
Help me to stand erect;
Help me to talk and read all day;
Help me to be perfect.
Do hug me, kiss me, embrace me;
Don’t cane me unfairly;
Bathe me, dress me and keep me clean;
Let me do things freely!
Oh, do not neglect me parents;
I need you by my side;
Until I’m old enough to stand
Alone, and in God abide!
Help me to realize my God,
In everything I do;
Oh, let me serve my Maker well,
Through fellowmen, and you.
Help me to show my love for you:
I am your flesh and bones;
Bless me that I may tend to you
When old, in moans and groans!
Look after me like your parents
Bestowed on you, their love;
This is the duty, God expects
All parents to do, prove!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-16-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Help Thinking About Me
Question-time that says I brought dishonour
My heads bowed in shame
It seems that Ive blackened the family name
Mother says that she cant stand the neighbours talking
Ive gotta pack my bags, leave this home, start walking, yeah
Im guilty
I wish that I was sorry this time
I wish that I could pay for my crime
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
Remember when we used to go to church on sundays
I lay awake at night, terrified of school on mondays
Oh, but its too late now
I wish I was a child again
I wish I felt secure again
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
As I pass a recreation ground
I remember my friends, always been found and I cant
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
Now I leave them all in the never never land
The station seems so cold the tickets in my hand
My girl calls my name hi dave
Drop in, see around, come back
If youre this way again
Oh, Im on my own
Ive got a long way to go
I hope I make it on my own
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
I cant help thinking about me
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Random things about my Mother
My mother whose eyes were strained
By a sadness that stained her eyes
With grey and blue hue
My mother who never blew
Out candles on a birthday cake
My mother who never knew
The thrills of flying in an airplane
My mother who forever threw
Her pearls to swine
My mother who knew
No contentment in living
My who mother never lived
To be even seventy two
My mother who it is true
Stopped living long before she died
My mother from whose mouth flew
Words of disappointment and fury
My mother whose lips
Tasted bitter tears
My mother sat impatiently
In sorrow through her years
My mother who like Kunta Kinte
Was tamed by Diabets
My mother who was tamed
By my father
My mother who was captured by my father
My mother who fought with my father
The two them struggling false teeth piercing each others flesh
My mother who my father told to go and cook the mint
My mother who would beat us and cause wounds and bruises to our skin
My mother who love to walk about
My mother who gave a toe
A day away
My mother who kiked with her stump of a leg after she lost her foot
My mother who was a great dresser
My mother who could sing
Sang on the church choir
My mother who would be at the front of the church earliest every Saturday
My mother who insisted I be baptized and save by the holy ghost
My mother had beautiful handwriting
My mother who had nine children for five different men
My mother who tried to settle down with my father
My mother who could never swim
My mother who loved to sing
My mother who would tie us up on leashes and take us for long walks through the town
My mother who sought out hand me-downs – for our clothing
My mother who was active in the Welfare Society at church so she could cream the crop for her family
My mother who instigated many a conflicts with her numerous friend was left with only a few in the end.
My mother whom I so wanted to help evolve
My mother who I helped to live
My mother who I had to let die
My mother who lives in me
poem by Fleurette Elaine Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like I Do
Darling, I feel like a god when I am next to you
Something sacred, someone straight and true
Tell me, do you feel the same way too?
Darling, your face is radiant with the light of love
The kind that's sent straight down from up above
And now you're all I'm thinking of
Thinking of
Thinking of
Thinking of
Don't you give me loving like a revelation
Don't you make me burn and make me feel the danger
Salutations to the maker of my finest hour
Goddess, queen, mother, sister, lover
Don't you ever leave
Darling, I feel like a god when I am next to you
Something worth the worship of this honest fool
Tell me do you feel the same way too?
Like I do?
Like I do
Like I do
Don't you give me loving like a revelation
Don't you make me burn and make me feel the danger
Salutations to the maker of my finest hour
Goddess, queen, mother, sister, lover
Don't you ever
Don't you give me loving like a revelation
Don't you make me burn and make me feel the danger
Salutations to the maker of my finest hour
Goddess, queen, mother, sister, lover
Don't leave
Don't leave
Oh yeah
Don't leave
Don't you give me loving like a revelation
Don't you make me burn and make me feel the danger
Salutations to the maker of my finest hour
Goddess, queen, mother, sister, lover
Don't you ever
Don't you give me loving like a revelation
Don't you give me love
Don't you give me love
Don't you give me love
Don't you feel the same way like I do?
Like I do
Like I do
Like I do
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Headline Hustler
I got me a job on the local paper
Everybody there thinks Im nice
But theyd better look twice
'cos it isnt me
I wanna be
Headline hustler
Scandal maker
Headline hustler
Money taker
You keep writing me letters
But I havent got time
Im busy looking at photographs
But theyd better not be from the bbc
Youre gonna hear from me
Headline hustler
Scandal maker
Headline hustler
Money taker
Better not turn around
Ill stab you in the back
And you dont know what Im hiding
Under my plastic mac, under my plastic mac
I got a very good friend in the cia
And he says that he never takes bribes
But hes telling lies
'cos hes into me
He knows I wanna be
Headline hustler
Scandal maker
Headline hustler
Money taker
If your brothers wearing dresses
And your neighbours swapped his wife
Well, Im gonna make the headlines
With your private life
With your other wife
Headline hustler
Scandal maker
Headline hustler
Money taker
Headline hustler
Scandal maker
Headline hustler
Money taker
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father And Mother Africa!
A STORY I TELL THEE OF FATHER AFRICA AND MOTHER AFRICA!
THEY HAD SERVANTS AND ARMIES TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY AND THEIR SERVANTS HAD GUNS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD NUCLEAR AND ATOMIC BOMBS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD WARSHIPS AND WARJETS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SUBMARINES AND SPACESHIPS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SATELITES AND VIRA WEAPONS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SPIRITUALISTS, MAGICIANS AND VOODOOISTS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
BUT I AM BEATEN FOR HOLDING ONTO A PIECE OF NAIL TO PROTECT MYSELF!
MY HOME AND BELONGINGS FORCEFULLY TAKEN FROM ME!
AYE! THIS ENEMY, I AM TOLD IS MY FATHER AND MOTHER!
THIS ENEMY, I AM TOLD TO RESPECT AND WORSHIP!
IF THOU BE IN SUPPORT OF THEM!
THEN, I PRAY, MAY FATHER AFRICA AND MOTHER AFRICA BE THEY FATHER AND MOTHER!
AND MAY ALL I GOT FROM THEM BE ALL YOU WILL GET FROM THEM!
THAT I MAY SEE IF YOU WILL RESPECT AND WORSHIP THEM!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daddy Please Don't Hurt Mommy
A little girl stood crying as the father beat the mother,
next to the girl stood her older sister, and older brother.
Alcohol was the demon that drove the beating hand,
the mother bruised, and sobbing cowards from the man.
Why does daddy do that thought the little girl?
Oh how I hate my father, he's the worst person in the world.
The mother now alone in the bedroom with a razor above her wrist.
'Please mommy don't do it, ' the youngest child did persist.
The father starves the mother, three days in a row,
the little girl hates her father, yet the father is too drunk to know.
Is alcohol the problem or does there exist more?
The little girl's answer comes from her sobbing mother lying hurt on the cold, hard floor.
poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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William House and Family
Come all kind friends, both far and near,
Come listen to me and you shall hear --
It's of a family and their fate,
All about them I will relate.
They once did live at Edgerton,
They once did live at Muskegon,
From there they went to Chicago,
Which proved their fatal overthrow.
It was William House's family,
As fine a family as you see --
His family was eleven in all,
I do not think it was very small.
Two children died some years ago,
Before they went to Chicago,
Five children there he had with him,
When death his home there enters in.
The small-pox then was raging there,
And Oh! it would not their house spare,
For all but one was sick of them,
A dreadful house it must have been.
The eldest girl was married then,
The eldest boy was in Michigan,
The second boy he was at home,
And took care of them all alone.
His father and his mother dear,
And dear sister, too, I hear,
Were very sick and in his care,
And no kind friends to help him there:
Two little brothers, and a baby too,
Made six in all -- what could he do,
He had to take care of them all,
The baby, too, was very small.
As he would go to his father's bed,
And try to soothe his aching head,
"My son, I pray you leave me, do
Go take care of poor mother, too."
"Your mother and sister need your care,
And your little infant brother there;
Oh! Charlie, Charlie, take care of them,
My son, do all for them you can."
It seemed as though he did not know
That his poor soul so soon must go,
And leave his little ones he loved,
To go to that bright world above.
But God he called his soul away,
It had to leave, it could not stay --
He never more on earth will be,
His soul is from sin and sorrow free.
Charles helped the sexton, I am told,
To lay his form in the coffin cold --
How sad, how sad, poor soul was he,
When last his father's form did see.
Minnie May House she had to go,
And leave her friends that loved her so --
She was a girl in her teens,
A lovely flower as e'er was seen.
Minnie and her mother lay on one bed,
And when Charles said, "our Minnie is dead,"
His mother then she did grow wild,
And early after knew her child.
They buried Minnie by her father's side,
And left them there where they had died --
Charles took his mother and brothers then
And brought them back to Michigan.
For the mother and the baby too,
Kind friends did all that they could do,
But those poor souls they could not save,
For now they're sleeping in their grave.
Oh! what a noble son was he,
His age was then only sixteen --
Charles House's name I have told before
God bless his soul forever more.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coupons
How many times do
we get coupons offering you
to buy one and get one free
come through our door.
Everyone is doing it,
the butcher, the baker
and the candlestick maker.
The motive behind it
is to entice you in.
Once they have you in,
they hope that you will buy more.
15 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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