Mother And Son
the son that mother has carried on her arms
has become a man
grown up by her milk and lullabies
she looks up to him
when he marries and brings her
grandsons to make her remember
how babies become boys
how her arms have become cradles
the man has become a soldier
and he goes to war by mandate
he fights the wars of his state as his own
his mind circles on mama, wife, children and friends
and patriotism to his country
his valor his word of honor
his choppy cell phone calls
marred by the heavy rain
and howling sounds of dogs
and thunderous sounds of explosions
choppy are his words
like what he is feeling
in the deep heart of the forest
where the war is being raged
meanwhile, in the office of these
state leaders, these politicians
they make the strategies
on a bottle of wine and slice of steak
sometimes laughter and some jokes
in the comfort of his wife and children and friends
in the warmth of his home
and in his garden where the flowers bloom
where the sunshine is warms his
face smooth, untouched by the hands
of the heavy rain in the forest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I'll Be Back
Messages come, and make us suffer
A letter comes, and keeps on asking…
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this house is empty
The one's I trust
A form of rose
Has written me this letter
And has asked me
Someone's breaths, Someone's heartbeat
Someone's desires, Someone's smile
Someone's dull mornings, sleepy evenings
Lonely nights, unsaid words
Longing arms
And have asked her
Longing eyes
That...
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this house is empty
The ones with love
My best friends
Have wrote and asked me
My village, my people
Old trees, White clouds
Green grass, my soil
My celebrations, my religion
My farms, my land
My parents and
My wife has asked
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you this country is lonely and empty
Sometimes a motherly river's letter comes by
And brings along
My childhood days, my games in the backyard
My mother's support, being protected
My mother's lullaby, the softness of her hands
The desire in the eyes, the worries in her words
Hard on the outside, Lovely from the inside
Acts my mom
And asks me in each letter
When are you coming?
When are you coming?
Write me when you're coming home
Without you my lap is empty
Hey the passing wind tell me
Will u please do a little favor for me?
Go to my state and salute to my friends
In that state there's a road
Where my wife and kids live
Just tell them that I love them
Just tell them that I love them
Further down that road
Is my old mother
Just touch her feet and
Say my name in her ear
Hey the passing wind
Just to my friends
My wife and kids,
And my old mother
Send them this message
And tell them that…
I will come home
I will come home
The promise I made to…
My soil
To its colorful nature
To my mother lap
To my blossomed flowers
And to someone's heart…
I will fulfill it
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
I will come back one day
This war will be over one day
poem by Kiara Davar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is A Mother
She is a mother, but not a wife
In the arms of another, her passion lies
Why can't her husband make her feel that way?
So lost in his own life they live day to day
Passing each other like ships in the night
And he longs to hold her but it doesn't feel right
There came a man with arms so strong
Who spoke to her heart in lyric and song
And though her passion was dim glowing embers
The fire roars again as he makes her remember
She lay at peace, in his arms, in his bed,
Until a vision troubled her head
She saw the eyes of her little ones
So out of his house to her children she runs
She cries when she thinks of his arms around her
But nothing is worth this love that surrounds her
She opens her eyes and though feeling alone
She looks in their eyes and she knows she is home
She is a mother, but not a wife
In the eyes of her children, her true love lies
poem by Wakefield Mahon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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398
words like a forest hide me
and you will not see me crying
because my eyes have become leaves
without tearglands
words like a wall of rain cover
my weeping with the sound of its heavy rainfall
and you cannot hear me anymore
except the tender sound of a shower
and the rolling of the accompanying thunder
now i have grown words like a garden of grass
and some seeds are groomed to become trees
now i have kept my words like wild vines
and climbers and they cover everything about
my grief and lamentations
now you ask me where i am, ask my words
oh they will not tell you. You are my pain.
And there is no word equivalent to your name
anymore in this forest, in this grassy garden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words Like A Forest Hide Me
words like a forest hide me
and you will not see me crying
because my eyes have become leaves
without tear glands
words like a wall of rain cover
my weeping
with the sound of its heavy rainfall
and you cannot hear me anymore
except the tender sound of a shower
and the rolling of the accompanying thunder
now i have grown words like a garden of grass
and some seeds are groomed to become trees
now i have kept my words like wild vines
and climbers and they cover everything
my grief and lamentations
now you ask me where i am,
ask my words
oh they will not tell you.
You are my pain.
And there is no word
equivalent to your name
anymore in this forest, in this grassy garden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family And Friends
We all have a cherished garden we tend -
It is planted with love of family and friends.
The memories and dreams we treasure and share
Are like beautiful roses found blooming there.
The comfort and care on which we depend
Is given with love between family and friends.
The sunshine of laughter and rain of a tear
Only make our love grow with each passing year.
We may all be ourselves with no need to pretend
Because of the love of family and friends;
They notice the rainbows and weather the showers.
They overlook weeds and praise all our flowers.
The most valuable thing is the time that we spend
Tending this garden with family and friends.
When counting our blessings, we know from the start
That family and friends come first in our heart.
poem by Winniek Koh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family & Friends
We all have a cherished garden we tend -
It is planted with love of family and friends.
The memories and dreams we treasure and share
Are like beautiful roses found blooming there.
The comfort and care on which we depend
Is given with love between family and friends.
The sunshine of laughter and rain of a tear
Only make our love grow with each passing year.
We may all be ourselves with no need to pretend
Because of the love of family and friends;
They notice the rainbows and weather the showers.
They overlook weeds and praise all our flowers.
The most valuable thing is the time that we spend
Tending this garden with family and friends.
When counting our blessings, we know from the start
That family and friends come first in our heart.
poem by Lizzy Pureheart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The soldiers.
The soldiers in the borders, brave to hold the gun,
The loved ones at home, very insecure in notion,
The day he left carrying the gunny sack,
The heavy boots and heart, none failed to look,
The fear that filled in his eyes with tears,
Mother's heart, sad beyond words can spell,
The helpless father hid his emotion under lid,
The wife and the children, hazy in their vision,
For their only loved one going for a mission,
Siblings, relatives and the friends arrived,
To say goodbye to the man they loved,
The man has gone to protect the borders,
Under the thick forest, falling snow's cold,
He has one thing in mind and recollected many times,
To protect his country, that is breath to his life
The family, That is a few thousand miles away,
Enemies have the detailed master plan,
To conquer each other, puppets of politicians,
Thinking of money spent on warfare,
If spent for poverty, how many of us are poor now,
Wasted resources as weapons, polluted land and rivers,
Wasted young lives and washed out humanity.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Puddles
Rain bashing, rain crashing,
In the puddles, children splashing,
Mother's tongue has started lashing,
Everyone is wet!
Rain slopping, rain stopping,
In the puddles, children hopping,
Mother's hands have started mopping,
Everyone, I bet!
Sun waking, sun breaking,
In the puddles, children quaking,
Mother's arms have started shaking,
Everyone, she'll net!
Sun applying, sun drying,
In the puddles, children crying,
Mother's breath is now a sighing,
Everyone's upset!
Sun gleaming, sun scheming,
In the puddles, children steaming!
Mother's smile, now is beaming,
Everyone's her pet!
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dynamiter
I sat with a dynamiter at supper in a German saloon eating steak and onions.
And he laughed and told stories of his wife and children and the cause of labor and the working class.
It was laughter of an unshakable man knowing life to be a rich and red-blooded thing.
Yes, his laugh rang like the call of gray birds filled with a glory of joy ramming their winged flight through a rain storm.
His name was in many newspapers as an enemy of the nation and few keepers of churches or schools would open their doors to him.
Over the steak and onions not a word was said of his deep days and nights as a dynamiter.
Only I always remember him as a lover of life, a lover of children, a lover of all free, reckless laughter everywhere—lover of red hearts and red blood the world over.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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I Remember
Writer Dolly Parton
Copyright 1973
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember meadows and fields of golden wheat
I remember songbirds and sugar cane so sweet
I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember gingerbread my mama used to bake
And I remember home made toys that daddy used to make
Yes I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And our little country home they filled with love
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And all the things they did to make life happier for us
Yes I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember candy that daddy used to bring I remember songs my mama used to sing
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And how they taught us children right from wrong
I remember mama and daddy most of all
How they used to hope and pray they'd live to see us grown
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all most of all
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Laughter
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
I don't hear it that often.
Even when I do, it's quickly silenced,
usually by someone to afraid to let their guard down.
It sounds like running through the rain,
hands locked with friends that embrace who you are.
The friends that see through the stranger
that sometimes takes your place.
They don't even realize he's there
because truthfully,
he's not.
It sounds like tripping down memory lane,
reminiscing and smiling at awkward photos.
It sounds like talking to an old mentor that hasn't changed.
You show up on their doorstep two years late for class
and they still welcome you in.
It sounds like hot soup eaten in cold clothes;
sipping hot chocolate while watching
video tapes of an old friendship.
You smile and laugh,
because it was there and you had forgotten it existed.
Soon everyone's laughing because it was
and it is.
Then you realize
it always will be.
Huh
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
poem by Cary Kelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines in Praise of Tommy Atkins
Success to Tommy Atkins, he's a very brave man,
And to deny it there's few people can;
And to face his foreign foes he's never afraid,
Therefore he's not a beggar, as Rudyard Kipling has said.
No, he's paid by our Government, and is worthy of his hire;
And from our shores in time of war he makes our foes retire,
He doesn't need to beg; no, nothing so low;
No, he considers it more honourable to face a foreign foe.
No, he's not a beggar, he's a more useful man,
And, as Shakespeare has said, his life's but a span;
And at the cannon's mouth he seeks for reputation,
He doesn't go from door to door seeking a donation.
Oh, think of Tommy Atkins when from home far away,
Lying on the battlefield, earth's cold clay;
And a stone or his knapsack pillowing his head,
And his comrades lying near by him wounded and dead.
And while lying there, poor fellow, he thinks of his wife at home,
And his heart bleeds at the thought, and he does moan;
And down his cheek flows many a silent tear,
When he thinks of his friends and children dear.
Kind Christians, think of him when far, far away,
Fighting for his Queen and Country without dismay;
May God protect him wherever he goes,
And give him strength to conqner his foes.
To call a soldier a beggar is a very degrading name,
And in my opinion it's a very great shame;
And the man that calls him a beggar is not the soldier's friend,
And no sensible soldier should on him depend.
A soldier is a man that ought to be respected,
And by his country shouldn't be neglected;
For he fights our foreign foes, and in danger of his life,
Leaving behind him his relatives and his dear wife.
Then hurrah for Tommy Atkins, he's the people's friend,
Because when foreign foes assail us he does us defend;
He is not a beggar, as Rudyard Kipling has said,
No, he doesn't need to beg, he lives by his trade.
And in conclusion I will say,
Don't forget his wife and children when he's far away;
But try and help them all you can,
For remember Tommy Atkins is a very useful man.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Two Sons
I HAVE two sons, wife—
Two, and yet the same;
One his wild way runs, wife,
Bringing us to shame.
The one is bearded, sunburnt, grim, and fights across the sea,
The other is a little child who sits upon your knee.
One is fierce and cold, wife,
As the wayward deep;
Him no arms could hold, wife,
Him no breast could keep.
He has tried our hearts for many a year, not broken them; for he
Is still the sinless little one that sits upon your knee.
One may fall in fight, wife—
Is he not our son?
Pray with all your might, wife,
For the wayward one;
Pray for the dark, rough soldier, who fights across the sea,
Because you love the little shade who smiles upon your knee.
One across the foam, wife,
As I speak may fall;
But this one at home, wife,
Cannot die at all.
They both are only one; and how thankful should we be,
We cannot lose the darling son who sits upon your knee!
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jesse
(carly simon/mike mainieri)
Oh mother, say a prayer for me
Jesses back in town, it wont be easy
Dont let him near me
Dont let him touch me
Dont let him please me
(chorus)
Jesse, I wont cut fresh flowers for you
Jesse, I wont make the wine cold for you
Jesse, I wont change the sheets for you
I wont put on cologne
I wont sit by the phone for you
Annie, keep reminding me
That he cut out my heart like a paper doll
Sally, tell me once again
How he set me up just to see me fall
Chorus
Jesse, quick come here
I wont tell a soul
Not even myself
Jesse, that youve come back to me
My friends will all say shes gone again
But how can anyone know what you are to me
That Im in heave again because youve come back to me - oh jessie!
Jesse, Ill always cut fresh flowers for you
Jesse, Ill always make the wine cold for you
Jesse, I can easily change my mind about you
And put on cologne
And sit by the phone for you
Jesse, lets open the wine
And drink to the heart
Which has a will of its own
My friends, lets comfort them
Theyre feeling bad
They think Ive sunk so low
Jesse, Ill always cut fresh flowers for you
Jesse, Ill always make the wine cold for you
Jesse, I will change the sheets for you
Put on cologne
And I will wait by the phone for you - oh jesse!
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friends With You
What a friend we have in time
Gives us children, makes us wine
Tells us what to take or leave behind
And the gifts of growing old
Are the stories to be told
Of the feelings more precious than gold
Friends I will remember you, think of you
Pray for you
And when another day is through
Ill still be friends with you
Babies days are never long
Mothers laugh is babys song
Gives us all the hope to carry on
Friends I will remember you, think of you
Pray for you
And when another day is through
Ill still be friends with you
Friends I will remember you,
Think of you, pray for you
And when another day is through
Ill still be friends with you
Friends I will remember you,
Think of you, pray for you
And when another day is through
Ill still be friends with you
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War Girls
'There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,
And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,
There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,
And the girl who calls for orders at your door.
Strong, sensible, and fit,
They're out to show their grit,
And tackle jobs with energy and knack.
No longer caged and penned up,
They're going to keep their end up
'Til the khaki soldier boys come marching back.
There's the motor girl who drives a heavy van,
There's the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat,
There's the girl who calls 'All fares please!' like a man,
And the girl who whistles taxi's up the street.
Beneath each uniform
Beats a heart that's soft and warm,
Though of canny mother-wit they show no lack;
But a solemn statement this is,
They've no time for love and kisses
Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.
poem by Jessie Pope
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home From The Forest
Oh the neon lights were flashin
And the icy wind did blow
The water seeped into his shoes
And the drizzle turned to snow
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead
And the wine was runnin low
And the old man came home
From the forest
His tears fell on the sidewalk
As he stumbled in the street
A dozen faces stopped to stare
But no one stopped to speak
For his castle was a hallway
And the bottle was his friend
And the old man stumbled in
From the forest
Up a dark and dingy staircase
The old man made his way
His ragged coat around him
As upon his cot he lay
And he wondered how it happened
That he ended up this way
Getting lost like a fool
In the forest
And as he lay there sleeping
A vision did appear
Upon his mantle shining
A face of one so dear
Who had loved him in the springtime
Of a long-forgotten year
When the wildflowers did bloom
In the forest
She touched his grizzled fingers
And she called him by his name
And then he heard the joyful sound
Of children at their games
In an old house on a hillside
In some forgotten town
Where the river runs down
From the forest
With a mighty roar the big jets soar
Above the canyon streets
And the con men con but life goes on
For the city never sleeps
And to an old forgotten soldier
The dawn will come no more
For the old man has come home
From the forest
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suffering
a word from you
and then you stop
something choppy somewhere
inside your tongue
i like to listen more from you
cut, i am having a hard time,
what is it with you
that wants to hold me
i stop to listen again
some scratching sounds
from your hair
some gnashing from your teeth
i listen stilll cautiously
there are pauses,
you stretch your arms
trying to reach me
i tap my ears
there is this suppression
of meaning and then you finally open
your eyes
tears are falling
i see
your heart is broken and your
mouth haggles for words
your mind grasps for thoughts
for a love that they always
misunderstand. I see.
blood inside your mouth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue Rain (Coming Down)
Silently I hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
Its late tonight and I just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then I knew Id see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didnt know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh I never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Rain
Silently i hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
It's late tonight and i just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then i knew i'd see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didn't know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh i never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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