Papa And His Son
small son
like a toy soccer ball
yellow and black spots
in the warm hold of
Papa the giant
to his mind
his hands are powerful
against the walls
and tall buildings
against the hot horizon
he laughs
at son who raises his hands
in total surrender
not afraid anymore
if ever he falls
Papa is the giant
his words are true
like walls and tall buildings
like strong hands
like laughter
like white teeth
like words of comfort
of horizon's assurance.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Papa-Omm-Mow-Mow
Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow
The Beach Boys
Frazier/White/Wilson, Jr./Harris
The last time we were up here
We did a song by another group of guys
We like very much
A real friendly group of guys
Called the Rivingtons
Their song is called "Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow"
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
Funniest sound I ever heard
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But I can't understand a single word
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well if he's serious or if he's playin'
Woo my my it's all he's sayin
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well say there pop, say what's your name?
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well don't you come around and show your face
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But hearing the sound I can't figure it out
Oo-wee this sound makes me stop and shout
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
A papa-papa-papa-papa-oom-mow-mow
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
Well I hear this sound everywhere I go
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
From the record, TV, or the radio
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But now it's spreadin' all through the land
I still can't seem to understand
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papa-oom-mow-mow
Ah, papa-oom-muh-muh-muh-muh
Ah, papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
The funniest sound i ever heard
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
But i can't understand a single word
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
But if he's serious or if he's playin'
Whoo, my my is all he's sayin'
Papa, whooo
Baba-baba-baba-whoooooooo!
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Well i said there, pop, say what's your name
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Why don't you come around and show your face?
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
The weirdest sound--i can't figure it out--
I can't believe this sound makes me slap and shout
Papa, whooo
Baba-baba-baba-whoooooooo! yeah!
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Dit-dit-dit
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-papa-papa-oom-muh-muh-muh-muh
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
I can't seem to remember all the words
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Dit-dit-dit
Well, i hear this sound everywhere i go
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
On the rockin' tv or the radio
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
But now it's spreadin' all through the land
I still can't seem to haha ha
Understand
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Papa-oom-mow-mow
Baba-baba-baba-whoooooooo!
Baba-whoo
Dit dit dit
Baba-baba-baba-whooooo!
Baba-baba-baba-whoooooooo!
Oooo-oooo-ooo-wooooo
(how how oom mow oom mow. oh.)
(party [...], right?)
(i hope so.)
(this is [...])
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Found A Reason
(reed)
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
I found a reason to keep living
Oh and the reason, dear, is you
I found a reason to keep singing
Oh and the reason, dear, is you
Oh I do believe
If you dont like things you live
For some place you never gone before
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Honey, I found a reason to keep living
And you know the reason, dear its you
And Ive walked down lifes lonely highways
Hand in hand with myself
And I realized how many paths have crossed between us
Oh I do believe
Youre all what you perceive
What come is better that what came before
Oh I do believe
Youre all what you perceive
What come is better that what came before
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
Pa papa papa papa
And youd better come, come come, come to me
Come come, come to me
Pa papa papa pa
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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October Sundown
October sundown
spillt o'er rainswept
mountains undressed,
lit by the Painter's brush;
momentarily...
sucks the oxygen
from the air,
leaving me gasping
for words....
........2........
the hands on the great clock
bent under the weight,
waves pounding hard against
the breakers.
the fire flickers, almost dies,
bursts into flame.
the ghost of longing
walks out of the grave!
........3........
the earth tremors,
tall buildings fall!
the wail of the dying
fills the air...
the stench of blood and
burning flesh chokes the mind...
dark wings thunder
on the distant horizon.
the bells of emptiness
ring like razors....
still beating hearts
held in children's hands!
........4........
October sundown....
....and the night
.............is coming!
leaving me....
...gasping for words!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pap-Oom-Mow-Mow
The last time we were up here
We did a song by another group of guys
We like very much
A real friendly group of guys
Called the Rivingtons
Their song is called "Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow"
A papa-oom-mow-mow
Funniest sound I ever heard
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But I can't understand a single word
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well if he's serious or if he's playin'
Woo my my it's all he's sayin
~CHORUS~
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well say there pop, say what's your name?
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well don't you come around and show your face
A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But hearing the sound I can't figure it out
Oo-wee this sound makes me stop and shout
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
A papa-papa-papa-papa-oom-mow-mow
~CHORUS~
Well I hear this sound everywhere I go
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
From the record, TV, or the radio
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But now it's spreadin' all through the land
I still can't seem to understand
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
~CHORUS
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walls
Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.
Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.
Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.
Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.
Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daybreak in Alabama
When I get to be a composer
I'm gonna write me some music about
Daybreak in Alabama
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist
And falling out of heaven like soft dew.
I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it
And the scent of pine needles
And the smell of red clay after rain
And long red necks
And poppy colored faces
And big brown arms
And the field daisy eyes
Of black and white black white black people
And I'm gonna put white hands
And black hands and brown and yellow hands
And red clay earth hands in it
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about daybreak
In Alabama.
poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spirit Seeker
He walked the streets and found his way
between tall buildings gray.
He felt closed in by hardened cement
and knew he couldn't stay.
He needed to smell the salty air
and feel the ocean's spray.
He rubbed his hands to warm them
and he started to pray.
Not for money, not for health
just for the smell of the sea.
For to be so far from the waves and brine
was not his destiny.
And so he walked the miles in front of him
until he felt wet sand.
He sat with his feet being lapped on
and the grains of sand in his hand.
He was at peace and cried like a child
that's found his favorite toy.
And never again would he need tall buildings
for they would only destroy
his spirit.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Do Not Wish To Romanticize....
there are some theories
for instance, that we shall only settle on the magical state
of our words, do not philosophize
do not restructure a world that we are in now,
do not disturb the political order
do not preach, papa, do not ever preach
do not be the church of any order
just feel the lyrics of the song
the beat of the agony
my hands rub your hands in my belly, feel that something in me that
is growing and hardening,
let the metaphors do the excitement
of that strong burst of emotions
do not justify,
that is not the intention of our words
there is nothing about repair or
compensation,
just see the stars,
and feel the light of the moon on your cheeks
let someone touch you
do not ever think, but just savor the very moment
of carpe diems
in other words,
romanticize, romanticize, fantasize, nothing about
bread or butter, or wine or dessert
or red meat or corn
or wheat or
bun,
i am sorry,
it is not my cup of
tea to simply romanticize,
i want some reforms, and i want to make a difference.
i want words with weight,
like anchor like anvil like
steel bars, balls or stones,
scales, and stick and swords and
basins,
i want action, punishment and rewards,
and restructuring of buildings
reconnecting bridges or sinking ships
and finding treasures.
i need a map, and i need you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Hands
Given by God -are these hands!
One can do many things -with these hands
With love one can help a strangers' hands-
Allay and comfort the elders' gnarled hands
Clean sweep and mop with these hands
Decorate and embellish with these hands
Cook and serve food to all with these hands
Clasp a loved one with these hands
Applaud one with pleasure with these hands
Dig the soil and form a garden with these hands
Hold a book to read with these hands
Write and post a card with these hands
Type a poem to cheer someone with these hands
Draw a picture and sew clothes with these hands
Paint a beautiful scene to amuse with these hands
Play a game of volley ball or cricket with these hands
Swim the waters and row a boat with these hands
Pick the harvests and fruits with these hands
Feed the animals and birds with these hands
Seek the warmth of dear ones with these hands
Feel the soft petals of a flower with these hands
Fold the palms to pray with these hands
Given by God - are these hands!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beneath The Surface
(j.p. maunick)
Here I sit and watch the crowds go by
Papa da papa papa yeah
But theres only one face I can see
If only they would understand
Papa da papa papa yeah
Id open the door and let him in
Chorus:
How long can I hide, what Im feeling inside
My love is a river, thats got to make its way into sea
This feeling cant hide, lord knows Ive tried
Beneath the surface
Beneath the surface
I try, though I know Im hanging on a string
Papa da papa papa yeah
Youre the only one thing on my mind
Keeps floating to a distant shore
Papa da papa papa yeah
As I go on denying myself
Chorus
Oh, keeps turning round in my mind
Oh, round and round in my mind
Here I sit and watch the crowds go by
Papa da papa papa yeah
But theres only one face I can see
Chorus x 2
song performed by by Incognito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Be True To Our Mutual Lies
please be true
to these mutual lies
as we lie
and kiss
and roll
and make such a quick love
do not make any moans
or calls
do not not kiss and tell
do not
be too possessive of my
body
my soul
my mind
these hands are strong
and so warm
you know, when these hands hold you tight
you know
these are not just yours
you know
these hands love you too like how these hands love
the rest of you, my all true loves
and them
they may not believe us
true to our lies
protective of ten fingers loving many lovely women
all worthy of my strong loving hands
my hands are made of ten fingers
there is no way that
these hands can be monogamous
you love me so true
and you would not have the folly to tell me that i have not loved
and loved you well enough
we must both be polygamous, and we must tell the world
we are true and we exist.
we lie because the truth is they are nor prepared for what they are too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside The House Of Pain
a damaged brain inside a house of pain.
pieces of broken porcelain, all white and tiny.
under my feet. flying plates landing on walls.
smashed to the sound of bangs and cracks.
running mantels and falling glasses.
and viands splattering on the floors.
dirty carpets. stained curtains. broken windows.
loud words buzzing like giant bees in such a small
room. where everything is a crowd of cruel
words and slapping hands and pulling hairs.
mother wails and shouts for help.
father strikes her face. some blood bleeding
on unwashed handkerchiefs.
children running away. hiding in corners of
this world. all silent not needing any help because
they are all to afraid to become big like them.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Girl's Song
Do not mind my crying, Papa, I am not crying for pain.
Do not mind my shaking, Papa, I am not shaking with fear;
Tho' the wild wild wind is bideous to hear,
And I see the snow and the rain.
When will you come back again,
Papa, Papa?
Somebody else that you love, Papa,
Somebody else that you dearly love
Is weary, like me, because you're away.
Sometimes I see her lips tremble and move,
And I seem to know what they're going to say;
And every day, and all the long day,
I long to cry, 'Oh Mamma, Mamma,
When will Papa come back again?'
But before I can say it I see the pain
Creeping up on her white white cheek,
As the sweet sad sunshine creeps up the white wall,
And then I am sorry, and fear to speak;
And slowly the pain goes out of her cheek,
As the sad sweet sunshine goes from the wall.
Oh, I wish I were grown up wise and tall,
That I might throw my arms round her neck
And say, 'Dear Mamma, oh, what is it all
That I see and see and do not see
In your white white face all the livelong day?'
But she hides her grief from a child like me.
When will you come back again,
Papa, Papa?
Where were you going, Papa, Papa?
All this long while have you been on the sea?
When she looks as if she saw far away,
Is she thinking of you, and what does she see?
Are the white sails blowing,
And the blue men rowing,
And are you standing on the high deck
Where we saw you stand till the ship grew gray,
And we watched and watched till the ship was a speck,
And the dark came first to you, far away?
I wish I could see what she can see,
But she hides her grief from a child like me.
When will you come back again,
Papa, Papa?
Don't you remember, Papa, Papa,
How we used to sit by the fire, all three,
And she told me tales while I sat on her knee,
And heard the winter winds roar down the street,
And knock like men at the window pane,
And the louder they roared, oh, it seemed more sweet
To be warm and warm as we used to be,
Sitting at night by the fire, all three?
When will you come back again,
Papa, Papa?
Papa, I like to sit by the fire;
Why does she sit far away in the cold?
If I had but somebody wise and old,
That every day I might cry and say,
'Is she changed, do you think, or do I forget?
Was she always as white as she is to-day?
Did she never carry her head up higher?'
Papa, Papa, if I could but know!
Do you think her voice was always so low?
Did I always see what I seem to see
When I wake up at night and her pillow is wet?
You used to say her hair it was gold-
It looks like silver to me.
But still she tells the same tale that she told,
She sings the same songs when I sit on her knee,
And the house goes on as it went long ago,
When we lived together, all three.
Sometimes my heart seems to sink, Papa,
And I feel as if I could be happy no more.
Is she changed, do you think, Papa,
Or did I dream she was brighter before?
She makes me remember my snowdrop, Papa,
That I forgot in thinking of you,
The sweetest snowdrop that ever I knew!
But I put it out of the sun and the rain:
It was green and white when I put it away,
It had one sweet bell and green leaves four;
It was green and white when I found it that day,
It had one pale bell and green leaves four,
But I was not glad of it any more.
Was it changed, do you think, Papa,
Or did I dream it was brighter before?
Do not mind my crying, Papa,
I am not crying for pain.
Do not mind my shaking, Papa,
I am not shaking for fear;
Tho' the wild wild wind is hideous to hear,
And I see the snow and the rain.
When will you come back again,
Papa, Papa?
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farther And Farther Away
i am lost.
please find me.
i am like the tennis ball that you throw away
from the comfort of your strong hands
into the darkness of the night
tomorrow morning
before the sun rises with a new promise
dusk shall find me
your hands shall turn to ash and i shall be the rain
to wash you away.
farther farther to the river and to the sea to the sunless horizon.
my heart is ready for this calamity of forgetting.
with air as balm, i shall be gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About Mama and Papa on Those Crucial Times...
the last day was crucial
it was excruciating,
i saw papa kicked mama
and mama fell down the
path
she was moving out from home
she could not take him anymore
everything was over
practically, , ,
the dogs barked
hating papa
they perhaps thought
he was a total stranger in
his own house
and they do not recognize
him as their
master anymore...
i walked away from home
on that crucial day
i did not want to know
what happened after
i heard papa died in
all pain
you told me that there was
that inevitable conclusion
that papa never loved mama
despite their five children
and 50 years...
i never believed you
i decided never to believe you
i believed that face in the mirror
half is papa's
the other half is mama's
how can there be two of them in me
if they never really loved each other?
they were sick and tired
those were the reasons
they forgot
that was the cause...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ever So Tall Giant!
The farmer was busy ploughing,
With three fields left to do,
When a figure overpowering
Came suddenly in view...
The giant stepped across the gap
In seconds so it seemed,
The farmer thought he'd had a nap
And this whole thing was dreamed...
The farmer blinked yet stood his ground,
The giant's shadow loomed,
The giant's voice a booming sound...
The farmer thought, 'I'm doomed! '
'Don't be afraid, it's only me! '
The giant said amazed,
The farmer gulped quite suddenly,
For he was feeling dazed...
The giant smiled a lovely smile,
No bad thoughts on his mind,
The farmer stared up for a while,
His neck somewhat inclined...
'I'm from another planet, friend!
Just visiting, that's all...'
'Good God, will wonders never end?
How did you get so tall? '
'I'm only tall on planet Earth!
At home, I'm normal size!
I exercise for all I'm worth
And study so I'm wise...'
The farmer groaned, he'd hurt his neck!
'Your poor neck must feel numb!
I know I'm tall, but what the heck!
Wait till you meet my Mum! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Art of Deception
It’s not a game
like any other game
where a golf ball travels the distance
and being putted into a hole
it is only a small white ball
being lured into a hole
dark and full of deception
have you ever wondered
why the ball is never black?
the hands that hold the putter
take a firm grip in a certain art form
there is positional assurance
before teeing
and these very hands
network with the mind
in continuance they play
vicariously with the heart
and when the world
is minding its own course
and waiting for another PGA tournament,
the greenery is overshadowed
like a transgressor
the golfer becomes an infidel
drunk like a kite in the wind
moaning in apology
with numbness on his lips
making a hiatus
wider than the golf course
how to fine tune this art
with family blunted by fame?
and fortune?
and deception?
poem by Leonard Dabydeen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Papa Jack
Papa jack
Wants to turn
Back the clock
And reach out
To the kids
He once had
Who have flown
Papa jack
In decline
Feels inclined
To reach out
To the kids
He once had
Who have flown
But there was a time
When the kids reached up
And papa jack just
Pushed them away
Looking deep
In his heart
Papa jack
Doesnt like
What he sees
Or the time
On his hands
The dying day
The chilly sun
Papa jack
All alone
Sings slow
Grieving and low
But there was a time
When the kids reached up
Now you cant always
Have it your way
Papa jack
Ah ...
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodnight Till The Morning Sun
Walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by thoughts and narrow walls
That holds no comfort within right now
Walking
Walking beneath the sun
Yes warm
But feel embraced by the coldness
As hands touch loneliness
Down on hands and knees I go
To touch the warmth once more
But through clouds of smoke
I search for you
And the sun
Oh hear my voice upon the ocean
Within your dreams
Till the morning sun appears
And as sunshine warm your face
Open your eyes in joy
And know my thoughts are with you
But for now I am walking
Walking upon white sands
Imprisoned by narrow walls
And thoughts
That holds no comfort
But as I walk beneath the sun
Upon white sands within a dream
My heart belongs… to you
As I say goodnight
Till the morning sun.
poem by Robert Sheridan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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