En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Your paths grew strange you became

Sad sagacious runaway legs frozen to the stone
The stone time testimony carved
Grey hairs each moment drowned in just one night
Stood still you watched them
The way they sold the mothers down the road
Their skirts their dresses their blouses
Their ribbons their hair their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
The way they sold the fathers
Those fathers of food those fathers of cherish
Their coats their shirts their boots
Their heart their lungs their eyes their cuts
Down the children’s cry you cried
‘I could have died of sorrow
But still could see but still could believe
There’s a wound and there’s a heart
There’s a healing as well
Sweet balm pouring down those drops of pain to soothe

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Need Their Fathers

The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!

And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.

People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!

'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'

~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~

'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '

~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morningside

Written by: neil diamond
Morningside
The old man died
And no one cried
They simply turned away
And when he died
He left a table made of nails and pride
And with his hands he carved these words inside
For my children
Morning light
Morning bright
I spent the night
With dreams that make you weep
Morning time
Wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine
For I recall the words the old man signed
For my children
And the legs were shaped with his hands
And the top made of oaken wood
And the children sat around this table
Touched with their laughter
Ah, and that was good
Morningside
An old man died
And no one cried
He surely died alone
And truth is sad
For not a child would claim the gift he had
The words he carved became his epitath
For my children

song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shower Bathe

To the mothers of your mothers and,
To the fathers of your fathers;
For i am here like one of the children of your children,
So don't see my disability and run away! !
For i am the one for your true heart.

Come to me and marry me,
And come and help me find a way in life;
For this world is full of surprises.

Please do not dropp me like the toilet roll,
For i am deep rooted in your love!
And, don't throw me away like the water from the shower bathe.

This poem is to search and to watch your status,
For i prefer to sleep my mind on a clean subject;
And to wake up fresh once again,
For i was not the first to clean your past.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Online II

Unmarried fathers,
Unmarried mothers,
And, children are born left and right! !
But, who is now online?

Babies,
With unmarried fathers and unmarried mothers;
Babies,
With married fathers and married mothers;
But, this issue is now investigated with care,
Because, other accessibilities are now found at various locations!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bipolar painful his bones bound to brokenness

There on the rock he stood
Arms winged spreadedness
Prophesy of sages stormed off his soul
What I have seen is the wound and the healing he said
The sights of sun desert sighs sealed high on a mountain peak
My soul unsealed
Desert little cradle tombs
I could have died of sorrow
But I’ve seen I’ve seen the wound and the healing
A thin layered see through balm
Covering earth undone
The springs that will grow new hearts
Desert broken bones builds into towers sublime
Time woven patchworks blankets of the sky
Covering earth undone

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Father's Love

I got sent home from school one day with a shiner on my eye
Fighting was against the rules and it didnt matter why
When Dad got home I told that story just like Id rehearsed
Then stood there on those trembling knees and waited for the worst
And he said, Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
He said daddies dont just love their children every now and then
Its a love without end, amen, its a love without end, amen
When I became a father in the spring of 81
There was no doubt that stubborn boy was just like my fathers son
And when I thought my patience had been tested to the end
I took my daddys secret and I passed it on to him
And I said, Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
I said daddies dont just love their children every now and then
Its a love without end, amen, its a love without end, amen
Last night I dreamed Id died and stood outside those pearly gates
When suddenly I realized there must be some mistake
If they know half the stuff I done theyll never let me in
Then somewhere from the other side I heard these words again
And they said, Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
You see daddies dont just love their children every now and then
Its a love without end, amen, its a love without end, amen

song performed by by George Strait
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Are The Children

We are the children of the sun
and the stars.

We are the children of the hippies,
who were strung out on peace and love,
and heroin when they conceived us.

We are the children of alcoholics,
conceived in blackouts.

We are the children of the punk rockers,
screwed into this world on beer and anger.

We are the children of the poor,
raised on welfare and food stamps,
and government housing.

We are the children of the middle class,
borrowing from the government to get a college degree,
to get a job with a pension from corporate amerika,
who has already fired our fathers and mothers,
before they could retire.

We are the children of the rich,
who, like our fathers and mothers before us,
care only about obtaining more wealth.

We are the children of the doctors, dentists,
and lawyers, who care more about their Porsches
and Mercedes than they do their patients.

We are the children of the American dream,
roaming the streets with a blanket,
and a garbage bag full of aluminum cans.

We are the children, who now have the children,
and we hope they won't learn racism from us,
like we learned it from our moms and dads.

We are the children who can change the inevitable,
alter our destiny, change the future from futile to
fruitful.

Amen.

poem by Mikel K Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sold My Soul

I prayed to God and jesus
But I guess they didnt hear
My sacrfice was useless
My pleas fell on deaf ears
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I looked to the lord in heaven
But he must have looked away
My crying eyes repentant
Please send her love to light my day
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil
So I cried in desperation
Bowed to evil sorcery
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil
Sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul
Sold my soul
Sold my soul to the devil
To the devil
Sold my soul
Sold my soul
I sold my soul
I sold my soul
I sold my soul to the devil

song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are the Children Alright

In the root zone
The children are camouflaged
In the zone of the sun’s light
The children are building industries
In the zone of bones
The children are mining their flesh
So full of sorrow for the fathers
Whose ignorance has spent
The strength of their muscles
On the wages paid beneath
The shadow of commerce
In the war zone
The children are catching bomb
With their skin and they dream
Of how with ease is dying done
In the zone of the moment
The children are counting
The thin dogs running wild
In the wilderness on the out skirt of town
In the comfort zone
The children are cautious
Of fathers who whisper
Familiarity of the beauty sons
In the zone of disbelief
The children are straining
To hear the echo of a mystery
Told about the current constellations
When the children were gathering
In squalor beneath the journey
That has taken control of them
As an unsettled melody
In the zone of the market place
The children are faceless laborers
Fearless and faultless of the wars
For food we wage
In the zone of hunger
The children are bloated
To their bones
Their skin drapes
The flies drink from their eyes
In the zone of urgency
The children are baring weapons
At sunrise and putting on
A grown up’s uniforms

poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Father cuts a Furrow

My father cuts a furrow, true lines does he run,
My father cuts a furrow, no horses did he have,
My father cuts a furrow no fields, hills of grass,
My fathers furrows were wisdom,
This is what he had.

To his dying day his gait was straight and true,
My father was not a farmer, for the city,
All he knew.

As father cut his furrow, so does hit son, I am told,

The wisdom my Father passed on to lay dormant,
Many years, put on hold, not until the age of 78 did
I realize, not much time left, as I too was growing old,
So I write my poetry from my fathers wisdom,
That was willed to me, only way to have my stories told.

As father cut his furrow, so does his son, to pass
The wisdom, that was left from father,
God Bless his soul.

poem by Charles Garcia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Not To Take Other People Seriously

a father has a child to take care
mothers have fathers
they form a circle of their own
and you who is outside
this circle,

why take them seriously?
when you are an outsider and an outsider is always an outsider

there is no way for you to be there
for as old as humanity
those that belong to them be it chattels,
slaves,
things,
pots, kettles, horns,
sticks, glasses,
dresses, coats and ties
and children
and parents
and grandparents

they always have themselves
and you do not have them
as they do not have you too

so if i were you
and as you consider me a wise man
take time with your journey
enjoy every moment
pick those flowers along the way
whistle
dance
and if you must
plunge into that cool river beside the path
at the foot of the mountain
savor the water
relax
and just be yourself

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.

quote by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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There Are No Children Here

The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here

Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here

Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them

People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''

A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''

No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here

poem by Violet Llewellyn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When It Cuts

cannot justify your envy
But I will be understanding when you stay
Then I will satisfy you in every (way)
But I'm not feeling coherent when you say
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again
Though I'm right, I don't think I'll win this fight
But I'm trying though it's ripping me inside
Just in case that I'm taking up your space
I'll be feeling too, whatever's left inside
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
I can't go on
I'm not that strong
I'm so alone
You just gotta set me free
I'm still living day, no way
I don't care what you say
Your eyes dispise my lies
Just say goodbye
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again, again
Waste your breath

song performed by by Ill NiO
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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