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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Our House
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A House Of Joy!
A house full of just played toys, ,
Just fed bowls, just torn papers,
Newly added drawing to the walls,
What a pleasure to the eyes and souls,
The kids are there in that house,
Growing as inquisitive as they have to be,
Let them play in their own house,
Don't control them in the name of rules,
Young mothers, don't toil too hard to please,
All the notorious oldies of the world,
Teach your children the morals and to be bold,
Enjoy your life with your children and husband,
Unkempt house is not an eyesore,
When the kids are growing to be old,
Unkempt heatt is a real curse,
When the old and young comfortable with.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father's Day (4) (Making Lemon Into Lemonade)
My father beat my mother,
setting a very bad example.
But I did not follow that.
I love my wife very much.
My father was a chronic smoker,
causing him a malignant lung cancer.
But a cigarette I never touch,
because I know it is not good for my lung and heart.
My father was a heavy drinker
causing him cirrhosis of liver.
Even beer I never drink,
because I know it will put my health on the brink.
My father was very poor,
because he was a lazy worker,
As poverty hit very hard,
making my fighting-spirit very tough.
Those were blessings in disguise,
a good lesson for my life.
I suffered a lot by those bad habits.
I don't want my wife and kids suffer a bit.
I want to be father-unlike son,
giving my family warmth like a dawning sun.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Poor Kids
Be quiet! Don't make a sound!
Speak when you're spoken to!
What awful fearful bounds
Speaking only on cue
Poor poor kids
You can't go out and play today!
It's punishment, unfitting the crime
This parental power display
For kids, like serving hard-time
Poor poor kids
Adults wield such power
They must be listened to
They can their poor kids cower
As they dim their kids world view
Power seeds have been sown
Hopefully they'll not sprout
So when kids are fully grown
Their kids will not self doubt
poem by Stanley Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Christmas
When I was small I believed in santa claus
Though I knew it was my dad
And I would hang up my stocking at christmas
Open my presents and Id be glad
But the last time I played father christmas
I stood outside a department store
A gang of kids came over and mugged me
And knocked my reindeer to the floor
They said:
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys.
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Dont give my brother a steve austin outfit
Dont give my sister a cuddly toy
We dont want a jigsaw or monopoly money
We only want the real mccoy
Father christmas, give us some money
Well beat you up if you make us annoyed
Father christmas, give us some money
Dont mess around with those silly toys
But give my daddy a job cause he needs one
Hes got lots of mouths to feed
But if youve got one, Ill have a machine gun
So I can scare all the kids down the street
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
Have yourself a merry merry christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin
While youre drinkin down your wine
Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
Well beat you up if you dont hand it over
We want your bread, so dont make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kids
Kids - kids, Christmas i-is for kids
Look around and you will see
Kids from one to ninety-three
Laughin', lovin' life and bein' kids
Kids - ki-i-i-ids, Christmas i-is for kids
Kids like you and little brother
Aunts and uncles, dads and mothers
Grandma, grandpa an' all the other kids
Daddy runs the 'lectric train
While all the children wait in vain
To take their turn
At playin' engineer
Grandpa catches grandma's cheek
And all the family sneaks a peak
And suddenly
Their wrinkles disappear
Take a look at Betty Joe
Underneath the mistletoe
Pretending that
She doesn't know it's there
And in the front yard Uncle Mike
Just fell off brother's brand new bike
There's Christmas cheer
And laughter everywhere
Kids (kids) - ki-i-i-ids (kids)
Christmas i-is for kids
Christmas time is here again
And now it's when the fun begins
This time of year we all turn into kids...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gospel For The Day
even the dogs eat the crumbs
on the floor
sometimes we
his children simply do not recognize
the cake
reserved for us
on top of the table
with flowers
and the matching
sweet music
prepared by our father
we are the spoiled
brats in the house
but he is so
patiently
waiting
and very silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Times
Little kids play in the rain and do the darnest of things
They might get cold or catch a flue but still they'll play non-rest
They care not if the world might end or famine strikes the fields
As long as they are with a friend, worries cannot exist
'Happy! Happy! ' They will sing and then go dance in the rain
They paint a picture of you and me. I wish we were happy again
We could dance in the rain and sing with the birds and never care of this world
But now we're chained and frowning in pain but apparently this we deserve
Kids should never play in the rain it's a dangerous place to be
So the elders lock them in the house and safely hide the key
But as soon as the rain subsides and it's finally safe to play
They'll open the doors and let us play to our very hearts content
Yet every night I say a prayer that we'll be happy again
I miss my friend, I miss the rain, and I wanna go out and play
But the elders have locked us in for the safety of our souls
The rain is a dangerous place to play and we have to wait some more
The elders will keep me happy till the sun will shine again
But it doesn't mean that I don't miss you and how we played in the rain
poem by Hafeni Nghidinua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song Of The Dedicated Househelp
in London
and in Italy
the domestic
housekeeper
(euphemism
for Filipino maid)
sings
her song:
cleaning another
person's house
taking care of
another mother's kids
cooking for
the master
mopping their lawns
dusting their
carpets
wiping their
furniture
washing their
dirty clothes
all for the money
in her home country
her son has become
a drug addict,
her house sinks
in the water
there is no food in
the refrigerator
her husband is living
with another younger
woman
her papa is sick with
cancer
her mama is dead
she sends money
for the casket and
the wake
she prays some more
for her daughter
in school
in London
in Italy
she is not
a human being
in Hongkong
and in Singapore
some of them
become crazy
and kill their
master's kids
(who knows?)
the news headlines
says
Pinoy househelp
hangs herself
in the bathroom
another one jumps
from the 15th floor
crashing to the
ground
like a crushed
watermelon
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Better Sit Down Kids
Better sit down kids
Ill tell you why, kids
You might not understand, kids
But give it a try, kids
Now how should I put this
Ive got something to say
You mother is staying
But Im going away
No, were not mad, kids
Its hard to say why
Your mother and i
Dont see eye to eye
Say your prayers before you go to bed
Make sure you get yourself to school on
Time
I know youll do the things your mother
Asks
Shes gonna need you most to stay in
Line
Keep in mind your mothers gonna need
Your help a whole lot more than she
Ever did before
No more fights over little things
Because
I wont be here to stop them anymore
I know you dont want this, neither do
We
But sometimes things happen
That we cant foresee
Now try to be calm, kids
And dont look so sad
Just cause I am leaving
Ill still be your dad
Just remember I love you
And though Im not here
Just call if you need me
And Ill always be near
(repeat chorus)
Well, I have to go now
So kiss me goodbye
My eyes are just red, kids
Im too big to cry
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Empty
Do you ever muse what houses do
while you're at work, the kids at school,
how the traffic roars as it rolls on by
and the telephone rings with no reply.
The refrigerator sings its refrigerator tune
and the gas man calls in the afternoon.
How rain pours through that hole in the roof
and the ants infest all the children's shoes.
Have you ever thought on that dear folk,
when you're out all day and the front door's locked.
When the spiders dance and crickets chirp
with their clod hopper feet on the skirting boards,
making merriment while you're away,
assuming the house is empty all day.
Have you ever looked under old floor boards
where the mice all run when the cat's at play
and the spiders return at the break of day.
Only the house knows what goes on,
only its walls see the spiders run
and the crickets dance and the mice at play,
only the house when you're all away
except for the clock on the kitchen wall
with its heart ever beating the time of day.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When we were Kids
Remember how we were best friends when we were kids?
We slept over each others’ house, we were two pea in a pod when were kids.
You were my brother and I yours when we were kids.
But now that has all changed we don’t go near one another’s house.
And that pea pod has rotten.
Now as for brothers these days were not even distant cousins.
We were once best friends now we treat each other like enemies all because of the color of our skin.
I miss you as a friend and that is why I wish color did not matter like when we were kids.
the last poem for Ramon
from a long trip
he arrived home
feverish,
he said he needed
rest
a very long rest
in the ancestral house
of his father
where the trees are
old and tall
where the air is
refreshing
where the silence
is abundant
for he is tired
and wants to have
his much needed rest
it was too late for him
to know that he has
stage 4
for lung cancer
for which he succumbed
in his death bed
yesterday morning
in the ancestral house of
his father
his home away from
home now
away from wife
and his three children
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(three Kids Crying)
Mom and dad fighting
With three kids crying
While the house is falling
For this family is there a place for good?
na..
Mom and dad died
When three kids stop crying
When theres no house to see
Nomore pain showing
For there was noway to help
For all these familys there is no hope
There is no help
There is no past or the future
For the time being there is no happyness
But never well be
For three kids
For i seen it coming
With nothing i could do
To stop my mom and dad fighting
poem by nic Leisure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Togetherness, Unity and Love
Father and Mother, I love you...
I've said it, yeah, OK.
That's right, I've said it, 'cos it's true.
Here's where I choose to stay.
This house is more than just a house,
'Cos love lives here each day,
Yes, I thank God this house is ours,
This home in which we pray...
Father and Mother, thanks so much,
I want to make you proud.
I know sometimes you'll never budge
In rules that you've allowed,
Yet even when you tell me off
And I stand here, head bowed...
I know our house is filled with love,
Of that there is no doubt...
Father and Mother, I thank you...
For both of you love me.
I've seen it in the things you do,
In all you choose to be.
The Christmas gifts, the Easter gifts
And birthday gifts so free.
No wonder that my spirit lifts
In all this love I see...
(September 2011)
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Years Of Separation.....
years separated us
when we meet again there will
be usual questions like
how is life? did you marry?
how many kids? how old are they now?
where do you work?
where do you live now?
i am tired of all these questions,
frankly i am not interesting and nothing interests me
perhaps
i was made sour by all those years,
but sometimes i may compromise
(but not a civil as you may think me to be) and
so i have my answers now, like
life is not really that miserable.
i got married, no kids only dogs in the house
(not applicable) ,
oh i work with a gavel,
and i live in my navel.
perhaps i am just dissatisfied with what
life has given me,
and you who claim to have kids like grapes
work like heaven, house like a castle,
and you who is like a story with a
happily ever after ending,
well, thank God, you are like everybody else,
you own a wife, and kids and house,
yourself is multiplied, your face is xeroxed,
your wealth is not just well preserved but
progressed like
hell,
you have chattels and servants and perhaps slaves
and submarines and nuclear weapons,
you have a brand new car,
an excellent paycheck,
by all means, to my mind, you are a superhero
and you have everything
everything
and yet, oh well, just like rest of the people in this world
you are never, never contented, you still ask for more
how much? how long? how wide? no one knows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daddy, Whats A Train?
This song was first released on the all aboard! album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Daddy, whats a train? is it something I can ride?
Does it carry lots of grown-up folks and little kids inside?
Is it bigger than our house? well how can I explain
When my little boy and girl ask me daddy, whats a train?
When I was just a boy and living by the track
Us kids would gather up the coal in big ole gunnysacks
Then we heard the warning sound as the train pulled into view
The engineer would smile and wave as she went rolling through
She blew so loud and clear, we had to cover up our ears
And we counted cars just as high as we could go
I can almost hear the steam those big old drivers scream
A sound my little kids will never know
Daddy, whats a train? is it something I can ride?
Does it carry lots of grown-up folks and little kids inside?
Is it bigger than our house? well how can I explain
When my little boy and girl ask me daddy, whats a train?
I guess the times have changed, kids are different now
cause some dont even seem to know that milk comes from a cow
My little boy can tell the names of all the baseball stars
I remember how we memorized the names on railroad cars
The wabash and the tp, lackawanna, the ic
The nichel-plate and the good old santa fe
Just names out of the past, I guess theyre fading fast
Every time I hear my little boy say
Daddy, whats a train? is it something I can ride?
Does it carry lots of grown-up folks and little kids inside?
Is it bigger than our house? well how can I explain
When my little boy and girl ask me daddy, whats a train?
We climbed into the car, drove down into town
Right up to the depot house, but no one was around
We searched the yard together for something I could show
But I knew there hadnt been a train for a dozen years or so
All the things I did when I was just a kid
How far away those memories appear
I guess its plain to see they still mean a lot to me
cause my ambition was to be an engineer
Daddy, whats a train? is it something I can ride?
Does it carry lots of grown-up folks and little kids inside?
Is it bigger than our house? well how can I explain
When my little boy and girl ask me daddy, whats a train?
Words and music by bruce u. utah phillips
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're In A Battle That Cannot Be Won
My children loved me till my wife cheated,
Our relationship was really strong,
Now from their lives I've been deleted,
Why, I never did anything wrong.
When I went to court to gain access,
I was made to feel I was to blame,
Why when I wasn't the one to transgress,
Should I be made to feel shame.
Children are better off with ther Mother,
That's what the experts say is the rule,
As parents they are like no other,
Whoever said that is a fool.
As a Father I know this is so untrue,
We love our children that is a fact,
But Mothers have rights no man will undo,
That's why so many Fathers have cracked.
No account was taken of her cheating,
Or that her marriage vows were a lie,
My appearance in court was quite fleeting,
It was over before I could ask why.
I've to pay for my kids I no longer see,
If it wasn't so sick it'd be funny,
I don't mind paying but between you and me,
My children won't see any money.
I've lost my children as well as my house,
Her cheating caused me such tension,
To add insult to injury the cheating louse,
Then demanded half of my personal pension.
Fathers are nothing but sperm banks,
In courts they are treated like dirt,
They are run by a bunch of inept cranks,
Who think Dads don't feel any hurt.
Some children are poisoned against their Dad,
The Mother will then change their name,
What really drives a Father mad,
Is to some Mothers it becomes a sick game.
They're then branded with the title of deadbeat,
Then into obscurity they will fade,
This is all caused by a lying cheat,
Who every week still expects to be paid.
The pressure then becomes so hard to bear,
He will lose the will to live on,
Society will say he just doesn't care,
No-one will notice when he's finally gone.
Friends say one day the truth will come out,
When they find out they'll come back to you,
Though they're trying to be kind I just want to shout,
Those missed years I can never undo.
Absent Fathers are not all uncaring scum,
They have feelings which are really strong,
Society's attitude is really dumb,
The way we are treated is so wrong.
To those children who think their Fathers don't care,
I would never make up a lie,
As a broken man please be aware,
I will love you till the day I die.
Decent Fathers are being attacked,
By social services and courts we're outdone,
We are treated like dirt that is a fact,
'' We're In A Battle That Cannot Be Won '
Little Kids
'Little kids,' you call us
As we are at play.
You were little children
Just the other day.
Now to-morrow nears us,
Soon we too shall stand
Men and women rulers
Of the sea and land.
'Little kids' at play time:
But at home or school
Think about our future,
Make us fit to rule.
Guide us wisely onward-
Teach us what is true.
Though we are but kiddies
We are watching you!
Give us good examples!
While we are at play,
Often we are aping
What you do and say.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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