Too Much Friendship
Two friends are fused forcibly and wittily,
Finding them faces me with interrogations;
I see friendship after two long nights of crying
As the weeping is carried out in a single device.
Yesterday, two mothers and two fathers
Have produced children that differ.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Wishing And Willing..
When the baby kicks in the womb,
A few parents touch to have the kick,
Most mothers excited, while the fathers too,
A few miss this opportunity as not bothered to,
The crying of the babies never fails to wake up,
The loving hearts of the mother and father,
The crying of the mothers never fails to shaken up,
The young hearts of children, who see the rift,
Hearts of children love their mother,
As it listened to her beats day and night,
Hearts of children are attracted to the mother,
As she is the one, who listens to their blabber,
The crying of babies never fails to wake up the mother,
The crying of mothers never fails to shaken up the children.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Bedtime Story
The moon lies on the river
like a drop of oil.
The children come to the banks to be healed
of their wounds and bruises.
The fathers who gave them their wounds and bruises
come to be healed of their rage.
The mothers grow lovely; their faces soften,
the birds in their throats awake.
They all stand hand in hand
and the trees around them,
forever on the verge
of becoming one of them,
stop shuddering and speak their first word.
But that is not the beginning.
It is the end of the story,
and before we come to the end,
the mothers and fathers and children
must find their way to the river,
separately, with no one to guide them.
That is the long, pitiless part,
and it will scare you.
poem by Lisel Mueller
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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
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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
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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
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I am Crying Now
I am crying now,
For the children in the world,
Whose stomachs cry for food
In time of peace or war...
I am crying now,
For all the unborn
Who their destiny
They have no choice...
And therefore, a single voice...
I am crying now,
For all the women
Who systematically have been abused,
Instead of being loved
And with tenderness be seduced...
I am crying now,
For all the youth
Whose lives have been wasted
Due to bad companies,
Drug or alcohol...
Or change of lives...
I am crying now,
For all the mothers in the world
Who have lost their children
In an unfair foreign wars,
Found lost and in despair...
Facing a damage that can't be repaired...
I am crying now,
For all those who fell in love
And now brokenhearted,
Can't even find consolation
When they feel confused and lost...
I am crying now,
Because of those greeted ones
Who are polluting our planet
Without regard for our lives,
Destroying slowly our existence...
I am crying now,
And I will keep crying
Until I run out tears,
Feeling free to speak my mind,
Without any fears,
For the sake of humanity...
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Mothers Always Want Theirs Sons To Be Happy
mothers always want their sons to be happy
and so even if they marry someone
whom their fathers dislike
it is always them who settle for a compromise
and tell fathers to be flexible sometimes
not to hurt the hearts of sons
but sometimes when sons want something else
that only mothers understand
something that fathers cannot really compromise
mothers still compromise
and walk a mile farther
just to make their sons happy
and their sons leave them
to places that only mothers
by their loving hearts
know.
only mothers, yes only mothers,
and no one else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Worth A Shot
What kind of lottery have we won?
When we are here having fun
War-torn countries at the end of a gun
Where the dying has just begun
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
Contemplate this, it would be a start
With wisdom and effort we may impart
For someone’s existence, a piece of our heart
Making a difference before we depart
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
Corporate America are you hearing this?
Can anyone see how they are so remiss?
Reaping millions where ignorance is bliss
Their dollars filling their own void, an abyss
People dying
Children crying
Widows weeping
Justice sleeping
It’s what we do with what we’ve got
It’s who we help with who knows what
It’s sharing with those who have not
Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?
poem by Rose Falcone
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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
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Trying Times
[Talk:]
Baby I'm so glad your here
'Cause I have so many things to tell you
So many things to talk to you about
'Cause your the strength I hold onto
And I hope I'm the strength that you hold onto
So we can strive together and be perfect
Til' death do us part
The nights gone the morning here
And soon it's time to talk about
Where we stand and where we plan
To be in life long years I need to know
I keep crying tears of joy
I guess that's what you're put here for
To change these tears of pain
To tears of happiness
Through these trying times
trying to get the best of me
I'm still finding time to show I care
With my crying eyes
I see contentment because of you
Trials and tribulations build up walls
In front of faces made of stone
Yet we stand strong enough
To break the walls down to journey on
But I know if we just bond our hearts
There will be nothing that will stand in our way
And we'll be together forever and a day
Through these trying times
trying to get the best of me
I'm still finding time to show I care
With my crying eyes
I see contentment because of you
song performed by by Boyz II Men from II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers - especially single mothers - are heroic in their efforts to raise our nation's children, but men must also take responsibility for their children and recognize the impact they have on their families' well-being.
Manila
the dead are scattered
buried without the rituals
it's a pity, we are crying
about the victims of this calamity
nature claims
what rightfully belongs to its
hands
manila, you are warned
when will you start to mend your ways?
tomorrow will be too late
the trees once sobbed but manila
you never really cared
you dance your nights in sin and plunder
now the victims lay dead
many are homeless and hungry
with nowhere to go
you weep for they are your children
they are your fathers and mothers
your wives and husbands
now, you must hit your breasts
with your fists
now, you must reform your ways.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Stargazer
the stargazer
wrapped up his eyes
in a small box
tied neatly
with a ribbon
and a bow....
and gave it
to the little boy,
lying afraid, and
sleepless....alone,
and crying in
an empty apartment....
the little boy stopped crying,
closed his eyes, went to sleep...
and dreamed....
of a world where mothers
and fathers wanted their children...
and loved them....
the stargazer took his cane,
and made his way down the alley
to a stoop, and sat down...
to listen... for the song
of the living.... feeling around
for another box!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Friendship reminds us of fathers, love of mothers.
Gortnamona
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona,
I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it was my heart that was ringing, ringing, ringing,
With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona,
I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying,
And I knew my love was dying far across the sea.
Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona,
You hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it is the tears I am weeping, weeping, weeping,
For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me.
poem by William Percy French
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Family of War
Every morning I awake I fall to my knees and pray.
God, please make the war in Iraq come to end.
There are too many fathers and sons come home
in pine boxes. There are too many mothers and daughters
doing the same. Leaving behind fathers and sons mothers
and daughter with a last memory of them waving goodbye.
There is too much blood and tears of fathers and sons mothers
and daughters being shed all in the name of peace.
God please let our leaders see how many families are dying
and that war can never bring peace. Only love can.
This prayer is my gun and God you’re the bullet I’m shooting
to end this Family of War.
The Lost Children
Down the hall their voices ring, their feet are on the run
Phantoms on the winter sky, together they do come
Faded lips and eyes of blue theyre carried in the wind
Their laughter filled the countryside but theyll not laugh again
All the games are ended now, their voices have been stilled
Their fathers built the tools of war by which they all were killed
Their fathers made the uniforms showing which side they were on
And the young boys wear the middle name for guns to pray upon
Youve seen the fires in the night, watched the devil as he smiles
Youve heard a mothers mournful cry as she searches for her child
Youve seen the lines of refugees, the faces of despair
And wondered at the wise men who never seem to care
Goodbye you lost children, God speed you on your way
Your little beds are empty now, your toys are put away
Your mother sings a lullaby as she gazes at the floor
Your father builds more weapons and marches out once more
Down the hall their voices ring, their feet are on the run
Phantoms on the winter sky, together they do come
Faded lips and eyes of blue theyre carried in the wind
Their laughter filled the countryside but theyll not laugh again
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mistrust
The mistrust spread over the world
Where does it first unfurl
From what cocoon does it uncurl
Do fathers mistrust mothers
Do mothers mistrust fathers
Do fathers mistrust sons
Do mothers mistrust daughters
Do we trust our own selves
If trust is not found at home
If mistrust is the legacy of home
Then what hope have we
That trust will be
Born into this place
Love of self and self alone
Brings to us this bone of mistrust
And enfleshes to its birth.
7/5/2009
poem by Claude H Oliver II
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Now That Youre Gone
(bernard edwards/nile rodgers)
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
Im living my life all alone
Or hit by a blow
To my pride
But Im doing ok
I wont let you see
What this has done to me
I guess Ill just take it in stride
Come what may
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
How can one do what should be done by two
I guess thats a crazy question to ask
I might seem happy
But dont be fooled by my appearance
Make no mistake
Im just wearing a mask
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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