The Dead Parents And The Prodigal Sons
at this point
of their lives the stingy parents
now dead
shall have no regrets
for then their time shall come
to squander
what was saved: land and jewelries
and whatever
shall be thrown away like garbage
for the pigs,
sometimes one asks
if the prodigal sons are prodigal
because when they
were young
they were deprived of what
is due
kids who were not allowed to play
stored in the room
like some stuffed toys.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Sad House
the children are locked inside the house
if they go out once again
they shall be chained like dogs
once the hyperactive one
fell from the window
but its bones are strong and it knew how to land
like a cat
on the hard floor
spoiled kids says the mother
who is out of the house most of the time
they deserve punishment
says the father who is sick with lung cancer
stuffed toys
these kids without necks
they were never allowed to play
they have to go direct
to become
cruel men later
and no one is to blame
no one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Temporary Home
I can put up photographs of loved ones
And other familiar items, when I need some,
But this will never be more than my temporary home!
Here, in the land of prodigal sons,
I hope I never just assimilate;
All I have to do is time-nothing more!
Long ago, I accepted that my fate
Would be decided by looking past this, to something more!
Never once was a really given a choice,
But I am determined to give my future a voice
That erases regrets of the past, and to have none new-
I wish to better the lives of loved ones, and to have one, too!
This is but my temporary home, I hope for one, more permanent,
With faith and hope, I may help Him to determine it!
Maurice Harris,19 July 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Foster children
Foster parents they lived happily
until the twins became an adolescents.
The boys who came to know their pedigree
from the mealy mouths.
They changed their attitudes
and grumbled with these innocent parents.
No respect for them at all.
Foster parents are in a dilemma
and they promised to each other
not to tell the truth.
How can they tell them
that their father is the pauper who begs at the cathedral gate
and the mother who's a wrongdoer at the old barracks.
Who knows how long they can hide this pathetic story
to this prodigal sons Cane and Abel?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Prodigal Son
In a place where outlaws abound from the range
? ? ? on a day mountains has fallen to falls? ? ?
In a land where boys are forbiden to grow
And mell is the only master
Were the higway ends and the desert breakes
And buildings are bendt from great earthquackes
And statesmen crawl on their bellys like snakes
And feed of the public hunger
In a land were sky-scrapers scratch the sky
And delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
Papa stands on the corner he ? ? ? waitin to beat the drum? ? ?
Welcome home my prodigal son
When rivers run raging through city streets
And great eagels have fallen from their loofty peaks
And policemen moonlight the sideshow freeks
For the final crime is commited
When presidents ride in ford mustangs
And the black man releases his caddilac ? ? ? fangs? ? ?
And your chech died in bed as the landlord thanks the young girl next door
For the rent
Where telegraph wires are atached to your mind
Delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
Papa stands on the corner ? ? ? waitin to beat the drum? ? ?
Welcome home my prodigal son
When the telephone rings and falls of the hook
And your legs have been stolen by some defense department crook
And you startin to think about writing a book
But now you wont pledge allingence to anything
And the maid comes in with coffee and cake
In a low-cut dress she wore just for your sake
You explain your not dead and she takes it as a compliment
And sticks out her tounge and asks for requests
In a land were skyscrapers scrapes the sky
And delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
Papa stands on the corner ? ? ? waitin to beat the drum? ? ?
Welcome home my prodigal son
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Joe
Once by a star a beautiful bouncy baby was born
The blooming fields were full of the finest corn
Little Joe was a longed for heir in a noble line
The village celebrated and blessed him in wine
Chorus:
A prodigal son entered their life
A perfect future with no strife…
Time will tell he grew up a very handsome man
Succeeded in all and always with a perfect plan
Little Joe got only A’s in his expensive school
His mother adored her most precious jewel
Chorus:
A prodigal intelligent famous son
Life for him was always fun…
Times went by and Joe had to go to the City
His father’s pride but mum thought a pity
He ended up a notorious lover and flirt
Joe enjoyed the limelight and all the dirt
Chorus:
The most perfect prodigal son
Now his life all went wrong…
Some say it was too much whiskey and cocaine
No one really knows what went to his brain
Big Joe as he now was called in the town
He lost all senses and birthright crown
The prodigal son turned a cheat
Now all alone on the street…
poem by Isabel Lavender
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Prodigal Blues
Riding my life
Like a run-a-way train
Moving from
One track to that
Howling, crying,
Screaming at the moon
Only my voice came back
Only the echo came back
When I was a boy
Daddy told me
Grow tall
Yes and billy dont crawl
Taught me how to ride
Set me out on my own
And I never came back
And yes Id do it again
Oh wouldnt you
Yeah Id do it again
A-huh oh yeah
Do it again
Baby
Wouldnt you?
Remember
When I lied
Just when you
Needed me
Now I sit
Alone and cry
Cos now I believe in mercy
Remember when I lied
Just when you needed me baby
I believe in mercy
Riding, walking
Looking so cool
Guess I crossed
Over the borderline
Treated like a dunce
Who just cant read
Did I fool me too?
And yes Id do it again
Oh wouldnt you
Yes Id do it again
Aha yeah Id do it again
Baby
Wouldnt you
Remember
When I lied
Just when you
Needed me
Now I sit
Alone and cry
Cos now I believe in mercy
Remember when I lied
Now that you
Needed me
Yes I believe in mercy
I said come here
Look into my face
And hear into my heart
Hesitation
Could re-arrange
The other side
To your love
Take hold now baby
And take
What other
Lovers have not
Times is changing
Will they re-arrange
The other side to your love
No-woah woah woah
Yeah
Wooooo
(come home
Here he is impatient one
Come home
Come home
Tell the story)
Come home
Here he is
The impatient one
Come home
To claim a glory
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal bum
Come home
Prodigal son
Prodigal son
Come home
To claim a glory
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal son
Come home
Prodigal bum
Here he comes
Yeah that prodigal son
Ooooh
Hes the one
To tell his story
Cmon to tell his story
Tell his story
To claim his glory
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Path of a Gambler
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
a few more pounds to add to his loot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
A father has lost his son to a single action;
when he craved to add to the tempting fruit,
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
His gambler's heart soon became a beacon;
racing, waiting for a spotter's toot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
This one risk is only but a fraction
of the goal which he was to pursuit.
a man sought coin in a voluminous fashion.
When his hands started to feel the burden,
one that he had been too blind to compute,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
When his bets were lost, he heard a beckon,
he sought to close the the tribute.
A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
poem by Michael Roysdon
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The Wisdom of Toys
That worn, stuffed bear you hide -
have not quite thrown away
is more than your childhood
seen through rose-tinted time -
toys that speak,
toys that are talked to,
toys that simply listen
are the mediators between
the wisdom of the animal world
which shares with us, a heart
animals who live a blessed life
only in the present now,
and the wisdom that children bring
from the heaven that lies all about us
in our infancy, as the poet said;
toys are reflectors of our self
that remembered what's our self;
that remember what's our self.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Give her a chance
A prodigal son, on return
Can turn more amenable.
So can the adulterous wife.
Give her a chance from which
You will have had no regrets.
17.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The beloved and the wife
I aimed at a fruit.
Some one had got it.
I was in pain, not in anger.
I shall wait to have it
If and when it is left over,
Or given by bits.
On the other hand,
I had a fruit.
Someone stealthily bit.
I threw away,
Not with pain, but with anger.
Not to have anymore,
If returned as reformed.
Why are two standards-
Prodigal beloved and prodigal wife?
Claim of ownership is the cause
25.05.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Head Room
Ive never been kissed before
Its been on my list before
A flick of the wrist before would do
But when you get down to it
Its got a good sound to it
Dont meddle around with it
cos its far too wet to woo
When mummy and daddy play
They tell me to go away
But by hanging around
I can learn all the rules
Now I got the technique
Im away
Develop a taste for it
A time and a place for it
Although on the face of it, its a crime
Ive nibbled the cheese of it
The birds and the bees of it
Are weak at the knees
>from making honey
Every time
Im throwing my toys away
Im leaving the boys to play
With the boys
Gimme girls
And its time I was breaking away
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some leg room
Just a little bitta leg room
I see myself oh lord
I see a mess
Im making a meal of it
Im breaking the seal of it
Im getting the feel of what to do
Its got a good ring to it
Im getting a thing for it
And if theres a sting in it
Ill have met my waterloo
My mummy and daddy said
Youre liable to wind up dead
Oo, theyve been shooting me a line
Maybe it doesnt exist at all
Oo, Ive been towing the line
Now Im hook line and sinkered
Ive never been kissed before
Its been on my list before
A flick of the wrist before would do
But when you get down to it
Its got a good sound to it
Dont meddle around with it
cos its far too wet to woo
Ive thrown all my toys away
Im leaving the boys to play
With the girls that you get
For a dollar a day
When you pull on their strings they say
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need a ball room
Up against the wall room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
Take me to your bed-room
Show a little bitta leg room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
Just gimme some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need some head room
Just a little bitta head room
I need the rest oh lord
I need the rest
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song of the Republic
Sons of the South, awake! arise!
Sons of the South, and do.
Banish from under your bonny skies
Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies.
Making a hell in a Paradise
That belongs to your sons and you.
Sons of the South, make choice between
(Sons of the South, choose true),
The Land of Morn and the Land of E'en,
The Old Dead Tree and the Young Tree Green,
The Land that belongs to the lord and the Queen,
And the Land that belongs to you.
Sons of the South, your time will come –
Sons of the South, 'tis near –
The "Signs of the Times", in their language dumb,
Fortell it, and ominous whispers hum
Like sullen sounds of a distant drum,
In the ominous atmosphere.
Sons of the South, aroused at last!
Sons of the South are few!
But your ranks grow longer and deeper fast,
And ye shall swell to an army vast,
And free from the wrongs of the North and Past
The land that belongs to you.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis
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The Prodigal Son
My soul is grieved and my spirit in sorrow
My flesh is weak and I am without virtue
On my knees I stay as tears fill my eyes
That my eyes were a great ocean
Then will I flood the earth with my tears
And that my voice a thunder
Then will my cry be heard in the East
How am I backslidden? And how am I fallen?
How am I drawn back and plunged into such a depth?
A once mighty mountain was I
Now, here I lie, a threading of the oxen
A mire and pity of swine
Being driven away from the light
I stumble blindly in the dark
How could I have left royalty and bliss?
And now I live every moment from bleak to dismal
Being pulled down the slopes
I live without life in the valleys
There’s none to help and none to lift
I am sent into the fields where the abominable I do
An heir to the throne of a great kingdom
Now I have become as a pig
Prodigal I have become; I am the prodigal of sons!
Yet shall I revert…yes I would go back again
Go back to my father, to where I belong.
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Backugan Vs Frontal-Go!
McDonald’s hands out some crazy toys
Named Bakugan rolling birds.
I asked why not Frontal- Go boys,
But they heard not a single word!
Why not teach our kids how to save?
A stamp with every Happy Meal?
Or college savings bond certificate,
Or an after graduation pair of wheels!
The crap that is forced on our children,
That is supposed to occupy their minds,
When it’s time to get their homework done,
McDonald’s toys fail every single time!
If you think I make too much of a small thing,
Then thank you sir, you’ve proved my point!
What’s more important than the future
Of our children?
It’s time all parents start to lend their voice!
poem by Robert Edgar Burns
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The Other Brother
It was a hot day in the field
when, returning at last
bone-tired, sore from
tending your stiff-necked flock,
I saw bonfires,
extravagant blazes lighting
the way to our house,
but not for me
home late from
work,
so I asked your servant
“why such celebration? ”
That’s when my anger exploded;
…poor fellow, he bore my rage
and yelping away
cried it wasn’t his fault!
No, it wasn’t.
It isn’t.
It’s You.
You ask me to obey
and obediently I honor you every day.
With sweat and callused hands,
I cajole this stingy land
to give up a little wheat.
With my blood
I water these fields;
but when I wanted to show
my friends a little generosity,
I asked you for a stingy goat,
a meager feast, and
you said “no.”
So here he is, come home at last,
profligate brother…prodigal,
wastrel, drunkard,
sinner!
He’s back
and suddenly the prize calf
I worked so hard to make so fat is slain,
a royal feast for your favorite son
(though somewhat late) come home again!
But,
as always
my anger fades
in the glow of your summer love.
I don’t like this!
but you tell me
that your love does not diminish
but increases with the giving…
and, after all,
it is not every day that one’s brother
is to life recalled.
So for you, Father,
I’ll look him in the eye
and let him back
into my life.
poem by Steven Federle
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The Kids Arent Alright
When we were young, the future was so bright, whoa
The old neighborhood was so alive, whoa
And every kid on the whole damn street, whoa
Was gonna make it big and not be beat
Now, the neighborhoods cracked and torn, whoa
The kids are grown up, but their lives are worn, whoa
How can one little street
Swallow so many lives
Chances thrown, nothings free
Longing for what used to be
Still, its hard, hard to see
Fragile lives, shattered dreams
Jamie had a chance, well, she really did, whoa
Instead, she dropped out and had a couple of kids, whoa
Mark still lives at home cause hes got no job, whoa
He just plays guitar and smokes a lotta pot
Jay committed suicide, whoa
Brandon odd and died, whoa
What the hell is going on
The cruelest dream, reality
Chances thrown, nothings free
Longing for what used to be
Still, its hard, hard to see
Fragile lives, shattered dreams
Go!
Chances thrown, nothings free
Longing for what used to be
Still, its hard, hard to see
Fragile lives, shattered dreams
song performed by by Offspring
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wandering In The Land Of Nod
'And Cain went out from the presence of the LORD, and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of Eden.' (Genesis 4: 16)
Sons were they of the Lord’s Chosen Pair
Destined to thrive in the “Garden of Eden”
Alas;
In a rage Cain slew Abel without a care
A murderous legacy, to the future of men
Eon upon eon nothing much has changed
Except much easier kills from a distance
Deposed leaders thru coups prearranged
Or some bribed to break down resistance
Behold;
A new age draws near, around 2012
When brother no longer kills brother
Once veiled souls they shall then delve
And return to the arms of Earth Mother
The end of Pisces, Aquarian era begun
Welcomed to Eden the “Prodigal Sons”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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No Regrets
Tell me a story
Where we all change
And we'd live our lives together
And not enstranged
I didn't lose my mind it was
Mine to give away
Couldn't stay to watch me cry
You didn't have the time
So I softly slip away...
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
Sing me a love song
Drop me a line
Suppose it's just a point of view
But they tell me I'm doing fine
I know from the outside
We looked good for eachother
Felt things were going wrong
When you didn't like my mother
I don't want to hate but that's
All you've left me with
A bitter aftertaste and a fantasy of
How we all could live
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
(We've been told you stay up late)
I know they're still talking
(You're far too short to carry weight)
The demons in your head
(Return the videos they're late)
If I could just stop hating you
(Goodbye)
I'd feel sorry for us instead
Remember the photographs (insane)
The ones where we all laugh (so lame)
We were having the time of our lives
Well thank you it was a real blast
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
Write me a love song
Drop me a line
Suppose it's just a point of view
But they tell me I'm doing fine
Everything I wanted to be every
Time I walked away
Everytime you told me to leave
I just wanted to stay
Every time you looked at me and
Everytime you smiled
I felt so vacant you treat me like a child
I loved the way we used to laugh
I loved the way we used to smile
Often I sit down and think of you
For a while
Then it passes by me and I think of
Someone else instead
I guess the love we once had is
Officially dead
song performed by by Robbie Williams from I've Been Expecting You
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Regrets
Tell me a story
Where we all change
And we'd live our lives together
And not enstranged
I didn't lose my mind it was
Mine to give away
Couldn't stay to watch me cry
You didn't have the time
So I softly slip away...
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
Sing me a love song
Drop me a line
Suppose it's just a point of view
But they tell me I'm doing fine
I know from the outside
We looked good for eachother
Felt things were going wrong
When you didn't like my mother
I don't want to hate but that's
All you've left me with
A bitter aftertaste and a fantasy of
How we all could live
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
(We've been told you stay up late)
I know they're still talking
(You're far too short to carry weight)
The demons in your head
(Return the videos they're late)
If I could just stop hating you
(Goodbye)
I'd feel sorry for us instead
Remember the photographs (insane)
The ones where we all laugh (so lame)
We were having the time of our lives
Well thank you it was a real blast
No regrets they don't work
No regrets they only hurt
Write me a love song
Drop me a line
Suppose it's just a point of view
But they tell me I'm doing fine
Everything I wanted to be every
Time I walked away
Everytime you told me to leave
I just wanted to stay
Every time you looked at me and
Everytime you smiled
I felt so vacant you treat me like a child
I loved the way we used to laugh
I loved the way we used to smile
Often I sit down and think of you
For a while
Then it passes by me and I think of
Someone else instead
I guess the love we once had is
Officially dead
song performed by by Robbie Williams from Ego Has Landed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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