and it was Her Summer
…And It Was Her Summer
“Go back to the children’s home, she said I have no work and
can’t afford to keep you” Late June afternoon she sat on a bench
with a man I didn’t know. The man smiled I didn’t like him, but
took the coins he gave me to buy an ice –cream for; I was still
hanging about so mother got up and slapped me across the face.
”Get lost you stupid boy! ” My face was burning I threw the coins
into the lake and ran away. When I stopped running it was night
and I could see sheep in a field, I was tired and cold, thought of
seeking shelter in a little wooden church, but it smelt of fear and
I thought of ghosts, so I walked on till I came to a workman’s hut
near the road, it was easy to get in; here the smell was of coffee,
and kind men in overalls, perhaps one of them were my father?
It was morning and warm sunlight when they came, they were not
angry, but gave me milk and bread and showed me the quickest
way to get home. The sky that day was enormous and from a hill
I looked down to the town, I could see the school building it must
have been early, no children in the yard; but I just sat there and
could not understand why my mother didn’t want to se me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Christmas Remembered
A Christmas Remembered
Day before Christmas it was cold and we walked down
to the harbour to buy a tree and I remember the sea
that slapped against the dock was apple green and foamy.
Mother bought a tree, for next to nothing, since its top
was broken and it looked like a rejected child that waited
for a car to come pick it up and bring it to the orphanage
By putting the tree on top of the dinner table and a star
and a bit of glitter it looked nice in a child’s eye.
Mother was angry we didn’t know way, and went to bed.
We children sat on the floor and ate lukewarm rice pudding
and there was nothing under the tree. Mother got up told
us to dress and we walked to my uncle’s house. At first he
didn’t want to let her in, but when he saw us children he
opened the door. We had plenty to eat although my aunt
had a sour mien. But happy we walked home and thought
we had had a splendid Christmas.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Back up the Hill
As I walked down to the river today
I met a man with no legs in a chair
we spoke about life and he stood tall in a way
as I walked down to the river
As I walked on I met a blind girl
who gave me directions just over the hill
for someone like me who was lost she could see
as I walked on to the river
Down by the banks I met a small child
whose mother and father had recently died
and he splashed around with a heartful of life
down by the banks of the river
As I looked in the river I saw a young man
a reflection of me if you understand
who thought he would end it as he coudn't cope
as I looked into the river
Considering the people I met on the way
they didn't give up I heard myself say
and though I believed that I'd been through the mill
I laughed at the river, and walked back up the hill.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Im Ok
Once upon a time there was a girl
In her early years she had to learn
How to grow up living in a war that she called home
Never know just where to turn for shelter from the storm
Hurt me to see the pain across my mothers face
Everytime my fathers fist would put her in her place
Hearing all the yelling I would cry up in my room
Hoping it would be over soon
Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave
Every morning that I wake I look back to yesterday
And Im ok
I often wonder why I carry all this guilt
When its you that helped me put up all these walls Ive built
Shadows stir at night through a crack in the door
The echo of a broken child screaming please no more
Daddy, dont you understand the damage you have done
To you its just a memory, but for me it still lives on
Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same
And I still remember how you kept me so, so afraid
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave
Every morning that I wake I look back to yesterday
Its not so easy to forget
All the lines you left along her neck
When I was thrown against cold stairs
And every day Im afraid to come home
In fear of what I might see there
Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave
Every morning that I wake I look back to yesterday
And Im ok
Im ok
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broremann The Boy
The boy was eight years old and pretended to have one leg
shorter than the other, by walking with one foot in the gutter
and the other foot on the pavement. He tried to run that way
but it was difficult lost his balance and fell. A strange boy
often alone dreaming about what to do, he had told his mother
he wanted to be an actor and play many roles and be everything
at once. Either that or to an opera singer be, famous, traveling
around the world. His mother didn´t think much of his plans and
anyway this was his last day in this town tomorrow he was being
sent to farm, that had cows, horses, and sheep. He had no say in
the matter his mother was sick and had to go to a sanatorium
He didn´t mind it so much liked horses and could be a cowboy but
he had to go to school to and the children was sure to mob him for
talking city like. Down at the docks a big ship was birthing she came
all the way from Conakry in Africa. The boy decided to be a sailor,
and walked home to tell his mother.
Broremann is best translated as “little brother”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Prisoner Of War
he waited from night to night
he waited till the son started peeling over the horizon
he waited till he heard the morning birds chirp
he waited for a long time
he waited for his father
his father lost at war
his father he knew since he was born
but as time grew
the boy felt so weary
the boy waited and waited and waited
his mother giving him the same face
the same face when his father left
and the same face when he didn't comeback
but the boy did not notice this
the boy never knew his dad has been lost
but until
until he strayed up one night
a night he would never forget
he saw his father walking about in the streets
his uniform on but he noticed something else
his father had many medals
but he knew nothing of them
all that he cared about was his father was home
the boy waited 10 years
his mother fell asleep in tears
for all those years
but then he finally came home
this poem is dedicated to all POW
poem by Montana Hohensee
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Missing Link
A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said.
The children in the street
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother, ” are you sure he is my father? ”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Letter My Father Will Never See
if only one last time i could see you. if only one time i could tell you what i think. if only one time i could say what i've been thinking for all these years. if only i could just not care. if only it didn't hurt so much. if only i could say that you dont matter. if only i could tell you. if only one time you'd listen. if only you knew. if only i could tell you your an ass. if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through. if only you were around to say good job.
as a father you have failed. as a father you were never there. as a father you never held me. as a father you never cared. as a father you never gave me praise. as a father you never brushed my hair. as a father you didn't teach me about life. as a father you didn't teach me how to care. as a father you never showed me love. as a a father you you let me cower in the corner. as a father you scared the hell out of me every night of the week. as a father you came home drunk. as a father you didn't put me to bed. as a father you never gave me a hug as a father you were my worst night. however, for some reason i cant fathom your my father. and for the same reason i cant fathom how you earned the title when being a father was one thing that you never were and dont seem to want to be.
When I stopped at home one day
Early in the morning
I gave the children food
and a goodbye kiss
to my still sleeping wife.
At times I dropped them
at school
and turned with the road
to the highway
to get to work
and when I stopped at home one day
there were no children
that came running out,
no wife knocking
at the outside door
and all the dogs were suddenly silent
and life took
its own course
and every thing
had passed just too quickly.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Human's Soul Never Freeze
In snow on a bench a poor man sat,
He was frozen, so cold it was,
He didn't have any shelter,
But shared the bench with a dog.
His mustache and eyebrows were coated with snow,
His legs were numb, looking the color blue,
Although it was so cold, he didn't wear his warm coat,
Feeling for the dog he used his warm coat to cover the dog.
That poor man gave his coat,
To save and protect the dog's life,
Not caring for his own health, in the freezing cold,
He offered warmth and care to a dog.
People found them and took them to the shelter,
Gave them food and warmth to treat,
One sure thing from this is certain,
That a human's soul never freeze.
.................................. .......................
(This poem is inspired from a true story i saw on TV news)
poem by Cristina Teodor
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when I met my father
When I met my Father
There are many cargo ships in the bay of Cascais this Monday afternoon
and I thought of my father; he too had been a seafarer.
Last time I saw him I was eighteen, sat on a bus going into town, he saw
me but I looked out of the widow pretending I didn´t see him.
When he looked straight ahead again his face was impassive but I saw
tears trickling down his chin. When the bus stopped I hurriedly left,
this old fool I thought, most likely drunk. Rain cooled my flushed face.
During the war years of 1940-45 my father sailed on ship delivering
war material to Britain and Russia and he had seen ships being hit by
torpedoes and men drown in the cold Arctic sea. When he came home
He couldn´t settle for a normal life and back then there was no help
for war damaged seamen, and many of them became drifters and only
slowly died. My father was a drunk I had seen him before sharing
a bottle of booze with his mates in the park, and I despised him and them.
No, my father never played a role in my upbringing and my childhood
was needlessly hard because of him. But today, sitting on the terrace
overlooking the blue bay, I remember his tears.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Mixed Memory
A Mixed Memory
When mother made gateau for someone’s birthdays
I beat the cream using a steel whisker. Boring work
before the cream thickened and could be spread on
the cake, but it was worth it, as I got to lick bowl.
I thought of this as a tempest whipped the sea into
a froth. In the galley I had a mix-master and could
whisk up cream in no time, only I didn’t have the real
stuff, had to use condensed milk but I didn’t feel
inclined to lick its residue. The tempest blew into
storm, the ship was jumping about like an untrained
colt refusing to have a rider on its back. Life boats
smashed, ship railings too we only hoped she could
ride out the storm. In Hamburg I walked ashore and
ate a piece of Black Forest Gateau, awe-inspiring.
And to sit in a coffee shop that didn’t throw me off
my chair like demented colt.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Didnt Know
Didn't know what you had
Until you lost it
Didn't know what you own
Until you got it
Didn't know of your sins
Until you fought it.
Didn't know what you needed
Until you sought it.
Didn't know your lies
Until someone spoke them
Didn't know of the truth
Until someone wrote them
Didn't remembered your dreams
Until someone awoke them
Didn't know they died
Until someone chocked them.
Didn't know you had guilt
Until you cried
Didn't know you felt sadness
Until you tried to hide
Didn't know you felt shame
Until you lied
Didn't know you believed in GOD
Until you asked him why.
Didn't know you felt sorrow
Until you shed a tear
Didn't know that you were scared
Until I saw your fear
Didn't know that you hated
Until you were near
Didn't know that you were unhappy
Until you looked in a mirror.
Didn't know who you truly were
Until your ways you sewed
Didn't know that you were evil
Until the truth was showed
Didn't know you did this before
Until I saw all of your woe
Didn't know who you really were
Though I wished then I did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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It was much too hot
It was much too hot
in that Pick-a-Pay shopping centre
in the middle of a Pretoria summer
and something went awry
with the air-conditioning
which was blowing hot air.
We had two trolleys full of groceries,
bought our budget for the month
and your face was red pink
covered in gleaming sweat.
Two girls passed in the isle
holding hands
and looking as if
they were much more
than friends.
You bended down
to get some coffee
and the first
that I noticed them
was when one cursed
at you and then at me
to get out of their way.
There were a million things
that I could say back,
but it occurred to me
that they could pass anyhow
and that their manners
were totally lacking
which I made clear.
At the row at the cashier
you spotted them again
and realized that you know one
from somewhere
and gave her your mind
and she didn’t know
what to say back
and blushed tomato red.
We passed the Wimpy
on our way to the car
and I herded you there
where they had
bottomless Coca Cola,
burgers and fries.
Our money was tight
but we enjoyed ourselves
drinking one glass
after another
and a father, mother
and two children
came to the neighbouring table.
He was unsteady on his feet
and his speech
proclaimed him being drunk
and he had probably already
started drinking brandy and beer
long before the afternoon’s rugby match
and he had a lot of patience
with their children
and they didn’t notice his state,
but embarrassment was written
over the face
of the poor woman
who could have faded away
while he loudly
made a fool of himself.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Didn't Want It Around
I sat and chatted with the fear I was given.
I had grown accustomed to it and grew tired.
And asked of it before I angered...
Why it felt comfortable to sit with me.
Why I had to look over my shoulder,
To acknowledge its presence?
And if it was not there...
Why was I out to find it?
To identify it.
And attract it back into my life.
And why was it closer to me than anyone?
I wanted an answer.
I looked fear in the face.
And I demanded that it leave me.
With doubt and all of its associates.
I did not realize how easy that was.
I knew then...
For fear to go,
I had to release my hold of it!
It was only there because I allowed it to visit!
And I didn't care who or what gave fear to me.
I didn't want it around!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My mom didn't have mother or father
My mother didn't have a mom. My mom was all alone. But she choose me so she could be my mom. You didn; t have a father. Until you met your huband. But you gave me the love you had to give. Because you dind't have anyone to love you. Because meeting my father gave her the love she never had. And my father didn't have anyone to love either. Until the day he met my mom. written and Posted 2/7/09 In the memory of mu mother Esther Ferber Klayton And this poem is deciated to my father Seymour Klayton
poem by Susie Sunshine
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Peaceful And Warm
I went driving through my old hometown
It was Thursday the bright sun on the horizon
I was surprised to see no one had burned it down
It seemed so peaceful and warm
Floods of memories came back to me
All the things we got away with when we were younger
And I felt kind of like a refugee
Like a scattered pile of leaves in a storm
Peaceful memory like lights on a Christmas tree
Every hometown should be peaceful and warm
Every father mother sister brother friend of the family
Peaceful and warm
Somehow now and then didn't seem to blend
'Till a farmer plowing his field waved hello
Another working man doing the best he can
I hope he is peaceful and warm
Peaceful memory plows in the green field sea
Every hometown should be peaceful and warm
Every father mother sister brother friend of the family
Peaceful and warm
On the Kansas banks of the Muddy Mo'
I threw rocks in the river and dreamed of running away
In a wind of change only a father knows
In a world so hectic so cold
I guess my old hometown's kinda dead and gone
Miss the sign on I-29 and you blow right by
But it's a place I can go remember where I come from
It will help me keep me peaceful and warm
Peaceful memory the only thing that's free
Take them and try to be peaceful and warm
Every father mother sister brother friend of the family
Peaceful peaceful and warm
song performed by by Kansas
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
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Morning Night And Day
One time didn't do it
Two times didn't feel quite right
I didn't know where i was going
I just knew that i would be alright
I woke up in a druken haze
The sun shone to my window?
I said that i'd never do it again
What kind of fool do you think i am?
It happens
It always seems to happen
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Give me satisfaction
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
I had a good time late last night
I didn't think it would ever end
I walked home in a broad day light
Couldn't get a cab at half past five
One drink wouldn't do it
Two drinks are far too much
I didn't know what i was doing
I ate the floor and a pile of dust
It happens
It always seems to happen
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Give me satisfaction
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
So if you think that it won't get you
Well think again friend 'cause it's not true
In my case, it was not my fault
Other people made that call
One time didn't do it
Two times didn't feel quite right
It happens
It always seems to happen
No matter what i say
Morning night and day
I just want some action
Need some satisfaction
Before it gets too late
Send me to my?
Morning night and day
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wish You Were Here
Funny how the years
They just pass us by
Seems like yesterday
You were in my life
You always wanted
To start a family
I was way too young
I was runnin' free
If you could only see me now
You'd realize
I'm not the boy who
Made you cry
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
Oh
Wish you were here with me
I thought I knew it all
How stupid could I be?
I think of all I had
And it makes me weak
If you could only see me now
You'd realize
I'm not the boy who
Made you cry
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
Oh
Wish you were here with me
Sometimes
You hurt the ones who love you most
And sometimes
You hold the ones who leave you lost
And sometimes
You learn but it's too late
It's too late
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
You gave yourself
Why did you give yourself to me?
You died in me
Why was I too blind to see?
Oh
Oh
Oh
Wish you were here with me
Funny how the years
Just pass us by
song performed by by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Others May Think.
Apart from the water tower
and the farm
and a few scattered cottages
there were no other buildings
for a mile or more
just you and Jane
and birds in the early morning sky
I like it at this time of day
she said
I like the fresh smell of nature
and the farm
and having few people about
you walked beside her down the lane
that led away from the farm
you noticed how her black hair
seemed freshly washed
and blew slightly in the mild wind
does you father mind
you being out with me?
you asked softly
he doesn't know
she replied
he thinks I came out alone
for a morning walk
why didn't you tell him?
you asked
he was busy writing his Sunday sermon
and it was easier to just go out
and not disturb him
she said looking around at you
her eyes studying you
as she walked on down the lane
would he mind you being with me?
you asked
I don't think he knows you as yet
seeing as you have only moved here
a few months and don't come
to the church
you stopped and took her hand in yours
it was warm and soft
and pulsed with life
she looked at your hand
holding hers and she rubbed
her thumb over the back
of your hand
you wanted to kiss her lips
or cheek just to feel
her flesh on yours
but you didn't you just looked at her
and waited to see
what she would do next
she let go of your hand
and looked around her
there might be people looking
from those cottages up there
she said suddenly pointing up
at the rising bank which went up
to two cottages high up
if they see us they may tell Father
and then it would be awkward
and he might suspect things
and then she went quiet
and looked at the running stream
by the lane
but we haven't done anything
we just walk out and talk
and hold hands now and then
it's not what we do
it's what others think we do
she said softly
and stood looking at you
waiting for you to speak
but you said nothing
just leaned in close to her
and kissed her cheek
and said
even Christ permitted kisses
even the one from Judas
and she smiled
and the early morning sun
pushed through trees
and shone on her hair
and there was the sound of birds
singing in the air.
poem by Terry Collett
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