Praises to the Eldest
Praises to the eldest of siblings!
You know...
The ones parents experiment with?
The ones some plan for...
And rush to grow up,
To get it right with the other 'younger' kids!
Everything is tried on the eldest first.
Whether it is good or bad,
The eldest is going to get it first...
Not the one to get it last!
That comes after the eldest...
Has to grow up fast!
Blamed for something that was not done.
Doing chores while the younger ones have fun.
Being held accountable,
And being told to become more responsible!
Getting sick?
Forget it.
Pretending not to be,
Is what the elder one...
Chooses the younger ones not to see!
He or she has to prove how strong he or she has to be!
And making demands the eldest has to do.
They know when they've been ignored like a pair of old shoes!
And don't be a male in a family of females.
There is nothing right the eldest one can do!
The younger ones will accuse the eldest.
And get away with it too!
Like lieing about what the eldest one does.
Because the eldest one,
Is the one born that everyone likes to pick on...
To abuse and use!
Until the eldest one decides to leave the nest...
To do what he or she chooses to do best.
Growing older alone...
And finding themselves in a home,
The eldest one had said...
Never again they would return,
To hear the bitching, groaning and moans.
And finding themselves with no one there,
To care what the eldest does.
With who...
Or if anyone is there to share!
But...
It is soooo peaceful!
'Thank you,
Father God!
THIS has indeed been earned! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Eldest Born Knows
And like the eldest born knows,
Experiments take place.
And like the eldest born knows,
Expectations have their weight...
Since a quickness to do,
Eliminates time thought wasted.
And like the eldest born knows,
Appreciation isn't stated...
To keep the others safe.
No one protects the eldest.
Only fate awaits.
It becomes taken for granted,
The eldest is used...
To abuse with an escape,
With lies that are told by others...
Who will never know what it is like,
To take what the eldest does.
The eldest has to learn quick,
To do everything and take care of business...
Alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Final Letter: Farewell
Eldest Sister (jiejie)
------
My dear eldest sister, my dear eldest sister,
Your name meant 'precious' in Chinese, and precious you were.
You were beautiful, beautiful in a natural, elegant way.
You were intelligent, and beautiful, benevolent too.
I remembered when we used to smile,
Whilst making up fun songs,
Or cooking a wonderful cake.
Elegant, beautiful, and precious,
I looked up to you, I loved you,
Brother did too... He loved you too...
I wish you could have recognized that....
I wish you could have recognized that before you....
Before you cut your own string....
You used your own string, and used it to hang yourself...
Eldest sister, oh eldest sister - why?
Why? You were loved,
You were beautiful, you were precious...
But, I cannot inquire now...
It's too late,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry
I'm sorry I could not prevent your man-made fate...
Eldest Brother
----
Eldest brother, or dearest brother...
I never got a chance to see you,
I never got a chance to catch your name,
But those facts never prevented me from loving you as if you were still here.
Sister used to talk about you in such a venerable manner.
You were a wonderful man...
You sinned yes, but that didn't prevent any one's love for you
Even now your care for us...
You forced me to forget you,
To spare pain... But, I will never forget your love...
Eldest brother, I wonder...
I wonder what it'd be like to meet you in the flesh...
I wonder why God decided your fate....
Why did he decide your fate to be hit by a drunkard?
poem by Aya Amuro Zhou
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Adoption
For Ann and John
My two eldest children,
this poem comes with my love for both of you.
Sometimes taking on another’s children
can be hard and stressful.
I can easily testify to that
as my two eldest are adopted.
Having said that the rewards are greater
than any troubles that come along.
When they first start calling you Dad,
you feel the happiest man alive.
You take them under your wing,
nurture them with love, care
as you watch them grow,
and are extremely proud of them.
You are there for them twenty-four seven
to guide them through their troubles
and heartaches that plague their lives.
Your reward for this is simply
that they call you Dad.
21 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Forum
It's like trudging home after
a heavy day at the workface,
you open the front door
and the house is rent with upraised voices -
all the children adding new wounds
to years of grievance; your eldest daughter
threatens once again to go live with her boyfriend
although she's under age; your eldest son
despairs of girls 'not being able to argue properly';
the cry, 'that's not f a i r..' rings through the house;
the younger ones still seek adults to be on their side,
- for the moment - to dispense justice
to the aggrieved, comfort the broken-hearted...
Are you glad you came home
without your usual stop off at the pub?
It's all so familiar...dammit, you know very well
you'll miss them when eventually
it all goes quiet... but at least
they certainly know about justice
when it's not there for them...
they'll be vigorous employees,
trade unionists one and all,
if and when they leave the nest..
Were the 18th century coffee houses
from which emerged those tracts
of endless literary abuse,
sharpening their language on each other,
just like this? 'A polarity of poets'
might serve for a corporate term.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Brothers All
the gambler finally finds
a conspiracy with the liar
and the thief,
father is correct, this
is the family of vice,
the eldest is the gambler,
and the younger one is the liar,
the thief is in the middle.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Check It Out
The good can't be too good enough.
And those kind,
Are considered weak.
Those who choose,
To stay single and independent...
Are rumored to be thoughtless,
With a selfish streak...
They don't mind to feed.
The eldest in any family,
Has to learn quickly the meaning...
Of responsibility.
Those who are younger,
Often grow older believing...
They've been cheated.
Because left unaware of it,
Everyone catered to their needs.
Check it out!
Those who are most likely to divorce,
Are generally leaders as well.
And of course some are the first that are born,
Who learn to mask and hide their feelings...
On their sleeves not to leave or to be worn.
So no one can tell the emotions within them.
Or the thoughts that reside,
Inside that dwell.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sorrow is held the eldest child of sin.
quote by John Webster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-defence is Nature's eldest law.
quote by John Dryden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm the eldest at 51, and if the Stones can drag themselves around once more, then there's a few more albums in us.
quote by Barry Gibb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My father was unemployed and I was the eldest of seven children. We were very poor. And when you ask how did we support ourselves, the only funding that we had was unemployment payments.
Sonnet: Rosabelle
Oh Rosabelle, forgive me for my part!
Thou art my eldest sibling like mother;
Thine silence somehow hurts my wounded heart;
Bestow thy love again for thine brother!
Thou art the bud that blossomed flower first,
And emanated fragrance that was sweet!
To see thee happy- my heart is athirst;
Oh how I wish to talk to thee and meet!
If differences cropped, ’tis not my fault;
I am the same in heart and mind, not health;
We ate like food and tasted common salt;
Yet, love seems shadowed by some hate, some wealth.
What dost thou gain by staying so aloof?
Remember that we’d shared a common roof!
3-6-2004 copyright by dr john celes
Dedicated to my beloved eldest sister Mary Rosabelle
poem by John Celes
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An Old House Of The Family
an old house of the family
we always come here
our umbilical cords were tied
on one of those hard beams
from the eldest to the youngest
they always look for that which
dried and yet keeps on living.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Light, God's eldest daughter, is a principal beauty in a building.
quote by Thomas Fuller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Death Shamed His Sons
That was his birth day; he was ninety two.
His eldest son asked him what his wish was.
‘To die the very next day.' bitterly said he.
He died the next day. His death shamed his sons.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The stag tells him that he is the eldest of the sons - the father's favorite - and he warns the father that if he tries to shoot any of the stags, their antlers will tear him to pieces.
quote by Georg Solti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Twa Sisters
There was twa sisters in a bowr,
Edinburgh, Edinburgh
There was twa sisters in a bowr,
Stirling for ay
There was twa sisters in a bowr,
There came a knight to be their wooer.
Bonny Saint Johnston stands upon Tay
He courted the eldest wi glove an ring,
But he lovd the youngest above a’ thing.
He courted the eldest wi brotch an knife,
But lovd the youngest as his life.
The eldest she was vexed sair,
An much envi’d her sister fair.
Into her bowr she could not rest,
Wi grief an spite she almos brast.
Upon a morning fair an clear,
She cried upon her sister dear:
‘O sister, come to yon sea stran,
An see our father’s ships come to lan.’
She’s taen her by the milk-white han,
An led her down to yon sea stran.
The younges[t] stood upon a stane,
The eldest came an threw her in.
She tooke her by the middle sma,
An dashd her bonny back to the jaw.
‘O sister, sister, tak my han,
An Ise mack you heir to a’ my lan.
‘O sister, sister, tak my middle,
An yes get my goud and my gouden girdle.
‘O sister, sister, save my life,
An I swear Ise never be nae man’s wife.’
‘Foul fa the han that I should tacke,
It twin’d me an my wardles make.
‘Your cherry cheeks an yallow hair
Gars me gae maiden for evermair.’
Sometimes she sank, an sometimes she swam,
Till she came down yon bonny mill-dam.
O out it came the miller’s son,
An saw the fair maid swimmin in.
‘O father, father, draw your dam,
Here’s either a mermaid or a swan.’
The miller quickly drew the dam,
An there he found a drownd woman.
You coudna see her yallow hair
For gold and pearle that were so rare.
You coudna see her middle sma
For gouden girdle that was sae braw.
You coudna see her fingers white,
For gouden rings that was sae gryte.
An by there came a harper fine,
That harped to the king at dine.
When he did look that lady upon,
He sighd and made a heavy moan.
He’s taen three locks o her yallow hair,
An wi them strung his harp sae fair.
The first tune he did play and sing,
Was, ‘Farewell to my father the king.’
The nextin tune that he playd syne,
Was, ‘Farewell to my mother the queen.’
The lasten tune that he playd then,
Was, ‘Wae to my sister, fair Ellen.’
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
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Last Man Standing
My eldest is in China
On the way to the Li Jiang
She’s seen the Terracotta Warriors
In a place that called Xian.
My youngest, she’s in Sydney town
Her love in life is reading books
She has a sense of fantasy
And red curled Irish looks.
Me? I am in Pearl Beach
For others paradise
But I am on my own up here
And lead a damaged life.
I suffer from depression
And that’s very clear to see
For though the sun is shining high
It looks so dark to me.
I have many close that hold me
I am lucky in that way
They love me just for me being me
And don’t seem go away.
But the track of time’s unwinding
Each year, past friends are lost
Sometimes illness, now a suicide
And ‘gainst their names I put a cross.
For I am the last man standing
I’m like those soldiers made of clay
I am the last man standing
I am not going to go away.
I am the last man standing
For I have a hand of cards
That others wish that they did have
But being the last’s becoming hard.
For my eldest is in China
My youngest still in Sydney town
Although they are away from me
My heart is with them now.
Look! My greyness, it is passing
Now I can see the sun!
I know they love me for being me
Not for what I have not done.
For this thing called life is fragile
But it has a strength within
Not brittle like those warriors
But as fine as porcelain.
poem by David Keig
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Father was the eldest son and the heir apparent, and he set the standard for being a Rockefeller very high, so every achievement was taken for granted and perfection was the norm.
quote by David Rockefeller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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