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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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On the Innate Drive For What is Right
As life bled, martyrdom flared its buds.
Repression, red from irritation,
Rendered chinks and cracks; but thuds of
Armament - in cowardice - accomplice of the
Dictatorial blight thro' countless years -
Wreaked its retribution:
Yet hope began to bloom a coloured carapace
Enshrining their allegiance ‘gainst the
Terror in their tears.
And on! Splits yawned - breaches in the junta:
Flesh fought fanatical minds -
Bullets welcomed into open hands
And blessed with yearnings for morality:
Chiselled man-toys of death and mutilation
Couldn't repel the might of freedom
Surging at the bright horizon.
Crepuscular rays of purpose, body,
Flooded pandemonium with
Overwhelming clarity, direction -
Burdened clouds drifting wayward as the
Light channelled out a vision,
Intensifying focus on tomorrow -
Deepen their stride
As they home in to
What is theirs,
Rightfully theirs!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The reign of justice and freedom
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
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freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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The House Is Rockin' (With Domestic Problems)
Words and music by tom petersson and rick nielsen
I know, you know something's wrong,
Still, i gotta go home.
He knows, she knows,
Shut all the doors and lock all the windows.
Heavy, heavy, heavy troubles,
The house is rockin', still, i gotta go in.
Can't find the words 'cause they're so damned tough, actin' like fools that can't get enough.
Troubles yeah, i can't explain what i can't see.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, can't stop the fightin', no.
He said, she said something's wrong,
Still, they're livin' at home.
We heard, we heard, sounded like the end of the world.
Heavy, heavy, heavy troubles, the house is rockin',
Still, i gotta go in.
Can't find the words 'cause they're so damned tough, actin' like fools that can't get enough.
Troubles yeah, i can't explain what i can't see.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, oh boy can't stop the fightin', no.
I know, you know my world is in a spin,
You wanna come on in?
He said, she said it's bad for the children,
He went and bought a gun.
Heavy, heavy, heavy, problems, yeah.
The house is rockin', still, i gotta go in.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, oh boy can't stop the fightin', no.
Oh boy, oh boy.
Oh boy, oh boy.
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Is Rockin'
Words and music by tom petersson and rick nielsen
I know, you know something's wrong,
Still, i gotta go home.
He knows, she knows,
Shut all the doors and lock all the windows.
Heavy, heavy, heavy troubles,
The house is rockin', still, i gotta go in.
Can't find the words 'cause they're so damned tough, actin' like fools that can't get enough.
Troubles yeah, i can't explain what i can't see.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, can't stop the fightin', no.
He said, she said something's wrong,
Still, they're livin' at home.
We heard, we heard, sounded like the end of the world.
Heavy, heavy, heavy troubles, the house is rockin',
Still, i gotta go in.
Can't find the words 'cause they're so damned tough, actin' like fools that can't get enough.
Troubles yeah, i can't explain what i can't see.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, oh boy can't stop the fightin', no.
I know, you know my world is in a spin,
You wanna come on in?
He said, she said it's bad for the children,
He went and bought a gun.
Heavy, heavy, heavy, problems, yeah.
The house is rockin', still, i gotta go in.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh, boy, oh boy, non-stop, day and night, ev'ry day, ev'ry night.
Oh boy, oh boy, the house is rockin', the house is rockin'.
Oh boy, oh boy can't stop the fightin', no.
Oh boy, oh boy.
Oh boy, oh boy.
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When One Door Closes Another Opens
She sold her house in outer suburbia where she had lived for many years
And she know that in months from now she will recall through the tears
The happy times she spent there when her children were young
There they laughed and played together and their nursery rhymes they sung.
The old home to be demolished never to be seen again
And of a thing of beauty only memories will remain
To make room for a car park something ugly in it's place
And the landscape will look uglier without one familiar face.
To get rid of her huge mortgage the one reason why she sold
And the house in need of repairs as most timber houses do when old
So she felt obliged to sell and to buy a cheaper house elsewhere
But she will recall her old home and the good times she had there.
When one door closes another opens this so happens to be true
And she will settle in her new home and find happiness there too
Still the old timber house on Bayview Road in her memory will remain
And in her dreams she will be visiting her erstwhile friends again.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone On A Stormy Night
flashes of lightning
roaring thunder
heavy rains and
flooded highways
the street lights are off.
there is total darkness
the strong straight light of the car
guides me towards home.
i park the car beside the
the house. I get out and
open the front door.
winds blowing stronger
the veranda is drenched
the gutter with leaves
overflows with water.
i open the door of my room.
undress myself and wipe my body.
i am dry. Silent. Uncomplaining.
i am finally alone.
I decided not to argue. Not to think.
Relax. Sleep. Dream.
Too much reason, too many arguments
When what i need is only this pillow
This blanket,
A window closed. A safe house.
A glass of water perhaps. But later.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Will You Come Back Home?
There's something in the way she eases my mind
And lays me across the bed till I close my eyes
Stirs me in the morning till I can ever be satisfied
I leave Carolina every night in my dreams
Like the girls that try to love me that I only leave
Rock me like a baby doll and hold me to your chest
But I'm always moving too fast
If I could find my way back home, where would I go?
When everything about me, I used to be,
Shivers in the sheets and the blankets of snow
Lost out in the woods were you're looking for me
When, when will you come back home
No one leave the lights on in a house
Where nobody lives anymore
Loaded like the boxes up in the bedroom
Coming off the hinges like the door
The shadows dancing up in the window
They're not who we are but who we were
And I'm not gonna break, but if I do
I'm gonna shatter like the glass I turned your heart into
I'm broken like the windos in the house where I used to live
And If I could find my way back home, where would I go?
When everything about me, I used to be,
Shivers in the sheets and the blankets of snow
I'm lost out in the woods looking for you
When, when will you come back home
No one leave the lights on in a house
Where nobody lives anymore
Everything about me you liked is already gone
Everything about me you loved is gone
When, when will you come back home
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House With Many Doors
the house i love is a house
with many doors
the usual house you have
a front door and the back door
when one enters and there is nothing
to hide, one simply takes the back door
and be gone to the woods,
i can be imaginative at times
one door must open to the earth
another door must open to
the sky
and now, i must find a way
how to grow wings
or if destiny is too cruel
i must grow sharper claws
for digging the rocks of this
earth
now you must know that i have
many choices
up or
down.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Justice
'Justice is the one thing you should always find'**-
It needs find all who seek its aegis, e'en though it is blind;
Justice chooses one side, that of verity;
There exists no convolution, only a resplendent clarity
When true justice is rendered, to those in need
Of the curative powers that only it may heed;
Justice denied to one, is justice denied to all, the same-
To those responsible for its denial, goes all the shame!
Justice is not just a decision, its a means of thought-
For its very guard, many a war has been fought,
Many a man has given his very life, as would I-
And no man should be asked to live without it-nor should I;
My justice shan't come, until I may look them in the eyes, and say:
'Though I am not with you, I've kept you in my heart, and there you'll stay! '
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeless in a House
I ask you simply, what is home?
A place where kindred people come?
A space where residents reside?
What makes a home a home inside?
I ask you now, is home a house?
Can people buy homes with their spouse?
In houses can a family be
together for eternity?
I say to you, it is not so!
A home is where a man will go
to seek his flames of strife to douse.
A home he seeks, and not a house.
Inside a home a man has love:
From here below, and from above.
At home, he'll be with family
for time and all eternity.
poem by Chris Schleier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cybil
I sit here, sad and lonely,
speaking to the sea.
As it's kindly listening to me,
in this little house that's empty.
Am I lost to be here?
To be in a little house before the sea.
As quiet as it might be,
beautified by tranquility.
Swallow flies above me,
Sunset is in front of me,
But you're not here beside of me,
this little house remains still incomplete.
In this little house,
I wish you come home,
I've been tired and lonesome.
I've stared at the sea for so long and long.
I sit here again, quiet and lonely.
I've been thinking thoughtfully.
From this little house, I see and see,
far off the sea, there's you,
and me..
poem by Kite Remedy
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Home Is Not Where The Heart Lies
Home is not where the heart lies.
Home is where there are too many sins to name.
Home is where I cry too many times.
Home has no meaning.
Home is where all of my woes lie.
Home has no love for me.
Home makes me sad.
Home I cannot stand.
Home is where I get picked on most.
Home is where I hate most.
Home I wish would disappear.
Home is only adding to more of my troubles.
Home is where all my family hates me.
Home is where my sister won’t leave me alone.
Home is where my step father won’t stop picking on me.
Home is where my mum won’t stop babying me.
Home is no longer home.
Home has too many things to think about.
Home has too many too many troubles.
Home is where I do secrets no-one knows about.
Home is where everyone lies.
Home is not where the heart lies.
poem by Ellie Parker
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There Is Never A Home For A Vagabond
you arrive from a long trip
you take the stairs back home
the sound of the jet plane
still hounds your ears
you step into a garden
and the grass tells you
with each
blade that you have not arrived
at all
it is always strange
always
you miss home but there is really no home
when you step upon
the floor of the house
you plea for
a home but there is really no home
no little boy meets you and calls your name
no little girl dances for you
what you have are the dogs
and they have their own language for missing you
but they are never enough
when you arrive
in a moment after putting all your
dirty clothes in the bin
you pack again for shirts and shorts and
rubber shoes
the long way behind the kitchen
door
gives you another map for escape
you forget home
there is never one
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This House Is Empty Now
(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Worry/Everything's Going to be All Right
Don't worry
If your boyfriend doesn't treat you right
baby
Everything's going to be all right
come with me
And every poem I write will have your name in it
Don't worry
If the factories and villas cover the countryside
Everything's going to be all right
England will be given back to the animals
and we'll find a home under fern leaves known only to foxes
Don't worry
If I can't afford to buy you coffee after school
Everything's going to be all right
Soon the poem will replace the pound sterling as
international currency
and Britain Will get on the poem standard again
Don't worry
About those lunatics in the government
Everything's going to be all right
The country will be governed by beautiful girls under I8
(and you will let me carry your portfolio home from the
House)
Don't worry About what happened the other night
Everything's going to be all right
They'll give you contraceptive pills shaped like jellybabies
with your milk at playtime
Don't worry about what your Dad says about the younger generation
Everything's going to be all right
There'll be involuntary euthanasia for everyone over 30
not a poet painter or musician.
Don't worry
About the rain
Everything's going to be all right
The streets will be covered with tiny pink flowers
like the ones on your suspender belt
Bathing suits will be banned from beaches
School uniforms will be the only kind allowed in public
Your end‑of‑term report will be marked out of 100 for sex
appeal (and you will be Top of the Form)
Policemen will be beaten up by poets
Trade Unions will be taken over by workers
There'll be 24‑hour licensing
And everything will be on the National Drink Service
your parents will wake us every morning with breakfast
Your teacher will smile at notes saying we stayed in bed late
Your face will be in every art gallery
Your name in every book of poetry
So Don't
worry Everything's going to be all right.
poem by Adrian Henri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If She were my Daughter
I’m a real estate man
In a suburban wasteland
And I’ve opened many doors in my time.
A lifetime of regrets,
But I cannot forget
What she said to me over the line.
“ If I was your daughter, and getting divorced”
What would you tell me to do?
“With two children at home
Abandoned, alone”
Do I sell out or stay? ”
“What to do? ”
Her husband had left her
Pregnant, adrift.
with their five year old son at her side.
Post partum, alone
She’s on the phone
What should I tell her to do.?
The house had a mortgage
Perhaps “under water”
But the debt service-
that she could do.
She had a good job
And in spite of that slob
She was one girl who could see it through.
“ If I was your daughter, and getting divorced”
What would you tell me to do?
“With two children at home
Abandoned, alone”
Do I sell out or stay? ”
“What to do? ”
I told her to stay, there was no other way
After taxes, its cheaper than rent
She would have some hard times
And be house poor besides-
But the schools here are better for them.
Back in the depression,
When things were the worst,
Couples fought hard to stay true..
But it seems nowadays
Nearly one in two strays
And everything’s falling apart.
..
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In My Own House
(a capella: she said: boy, your luck is running out...she make me feel like a stranger...in my own house)
I come stumbling in at a quarter to three
To the sound of my own dog growlin at me
Im scared to move or turn on a light
Youve got me creepin around in the dark
Like a thief in the night
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got no place to live
I never feel at home
I walk into the kitchen to see whats there
Im tired and Im hungry but the cupboards bare
Ive been working all day and all night too
I cant believe this is all I have to come back to
I guess Ill take a look upstairs, in the danger zone
I wonder what Im doing here
When I never feel at home
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im a stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
I see the do not disturb sign on my bedroom door
What is this sheet and pillow laying on the floor
I wore out my welcome
I hear you loud and clear
Its time to get a few things straight around here
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got a place to live but I never feel at home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
With a woman like you Im better off alone
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im just a stranger in my own house
Oh, honey Im home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
You got a lion on your hands girl, not a mouse!
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
Well, somebodys got to go...
Stranger
Stranger
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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