That Day I Met Her
She introduced to me her two daughters,
Who came with their teen age daughters today.
They made friends with me so fast in no time,
Perhaps, from their mother’s feeding of me.
How seductive she was five decades back!
How intimate she was physically with me!
Now passion died and memories hid.
Her children being nave, I grew pensive.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Native Daughters Of The Golden West
In ecstasy they cry to know
If their parents love will let them grow
Their mothers pride, their fathers joy
We thank the stars that theyre not boys
The native daughters of the golden west
Their beauty is priceless
As children do they stayed at home
Waiting for the day that they were grown
The future seemed so far away
But every night theyd kneel and pray
But all in all they did their best
And one by one they left the nest
Across the globe they searched for love
And put their faith in God above
The native daughters of the golden west
Theyre made out of light
We never would have guessed
So by and by their dreams came true they fell in love with boys they knew
Their children grew fed from the breast
Of the native daughters of the golden west
The native daughters of the golden west
They talk all day
But we were not impressed
The native daughters of the golden west
Theyre sisters of mercy
Theyll grant your last request
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daughter's Day
Daughters are sweet
Daughters are cute
Protect them please
Lest they get hurt
Daughters are today's truth
And your bygone youth
You too are someone's daughter
And wanted the world
To change in your favour
But the change does not easily occur
And takes a lot longer
So lady,
Shield your precious daughters
For daughters are not just sweet
And not only cute
But a stepping stone
To tommorow's women power.
I wrote this poem for daughter's day, but i am posting it today.
9/10/09
poem by Maitreyee Joshi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sons And Daughters
There's a place in the city they call the Archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
and I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldn't know I was with them no more
When they said, "Where's me dad?" She'd say, "He's a star!"
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage goes down they're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage I've done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and I've got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
When a marriage breaks up you're the loneliest ones
Sons and Daughters, Daughters and Sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sons & Daughters
(ian hunter)
Theres a place in the city they call the archway
Where we rented three rooms for a dollar a day
And I worked semi-skilled at the capstans for years
And my wife was a good woman but the love disappeared
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I found me a band, I went out on tour
So the kids wouldnt know I was with them no more
When they said, wheres me dad? shed say, hes a star!
Oh if only stars knew what fools they all are.
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage goes down theyre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope they can cope with the damage Ive done
I got a new contract, I got a new life
No more capstans for me and Ive got a new wife
Sometimes she gets angry, says she wants a family
Then that nightmare returns like a ghost haunting me
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
When a marriage breaks up youre the loneliest ones
Sons and daughters, daughters and sons
How I hope you all cope with the damage we done
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Doubting Thomas
The old doubting Thomas is living today
And most of his school friends long with the dead lay
To the war cry of the leader they took up the gun
And they paid with their young lives for the war to be won
The young doubting Thomas he was young back then
He did not march off to war with the other young men
And though in his honour never a parade
He feels no regret at the choice he had made.
The old doubting Thomas he feels rather sad
That in World war 1 he lost his young dad
To his widowed mother a devoted son
He promised her never to take up a gun.
He still talks of the father he never did know
A war hero almost nine decades ago
The only regret in life he's ever had
Is that he never did know the one who was his dad.
The old doubting Thomas from time looking gray
His grandchildren have school going children today
Many of his school friends died in World War 2
And the dreams that they had were not meant to come true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Virgin Man
My Love,
Today when you told me
That “something”
Happened to you
As I sat close to you
Whenever you were there
With me
And I with You.
Trust Me –
I don’t even remember
On how many such occasions
That “something” happened to you
When and where…
What day, and what place.
Yet I do remember
That very lovely smile
On your handsome face
Those twinkling eyes of yours
And the way you used to
Scribble your head
With those seductive
Fingers of yours…
Setting your hair straight
Combing your fingers through
And my Love,
Today when you confessed
About those “very difficult” times
When you felt it so hard
To stop yourself
From falling all over me…
I felt wonderful!
Being desired by you
For I’ve always desired you
Psychologically, emotionally
And physically -
Like a woman would desire
The man of her life
To whom she wants to be a
Life-long wife.
Once and for all,
If we could turn the clock back
And those moments of desire
Would come to us again
I wish you were not so
Hesitant
And neither was I
So very coy.
I wish you could come
Falling for me…
Seeking me
With love and passion.
And I would have had
Demurely, Blushingly
Yet so very truly
Given in to you
With my true emotions
That are still
Very much there...
For you, and you and you
After all these years
Of living in separation.
Call it the Game of Time
Or Destiny
May be a lot to do
With God’s Decree.
That when I felt for you
And You felt for me
I kept quite and
So did you.
If that one last time
Whenever it was -
Out of all the times
You had desired me
When I sat next to you
Talking all and sundry.
That one very moment
You could have let it out
And I could have had
The Guts
To say it all out -
How very much
I truly loved you
Deeply desired you
And even do
Till this very day.
That one moment in time
Ripe in passion and in love
Would have changed
Our destinies forever…
And I would have asked you
To marry me, to make me yours
I would have faced the world for you
If only you would have been mine.
Yes – That moment in time
Lost to posterity
Still has its fleeting glimpses
In us
In the memories we share
For we know
However much we care
For each other.
Now – You are no longer
That Virgin Man
And I am no more that
Virgin Woman
To offer our
Virgin love and passion
To each other.
You and me
Busy with our families
Being married elsewhere
Now seek comfort
And respite
In the memories of days gone by…
And some consolation
That there is a relationship
We hope to cherish
Till death makes us part
That is our long-distance
Time-tied, life-long
Friendship.
And what more can we do
As we always do…
Than me write a poem
And you read it through
Of a once Virgin Man
Who had feelings for
A once Virgin Woman.
Yet so blissfully unaware
That he was the Man
The Love of her Life
Whom she would have loved
To beget sons and daughters
As his very beloved wife.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Daughters
I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hand
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me
Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart
On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
song performed by by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Salute You Gallant Sons And Daughters Of The Soil
Gallant sons and daughters of the soil, hail heros, we salute you
for the tremendous and outrageous job you did in restoration of the lost glory and hope, FREEDOM...
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for putting
your lives at risk and the sacrifise
you made in restoring our legacy,
from our fore fathers.
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soils, today we
are enjoying the fruits of your sacrifise and dedication of your
lives just to restore the legacy
heritage and freedom which we
enjoy today....
Freedom was born out of bloodshed of the gallant sons and daughters of the soil, freedom was
born out of the armed struggle, we
salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil..
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil, thank you
for restoring the glory, heritage
and legacy which had been robbed from us! !
Hail gallant sons and daughters
of the soil, they exchanged freedom with the blood which
the spilt in the process of restoring the lost prestige and glory, heritage..
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for breaking
down the iron york from our necks granting us solace, you did
all this out of love and loyalty.
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for the enduarance, dedication you made
in bringing freedom and the lost
heritage, through the wire and many challenges you met, but you
risked your lives to bring freedom..
Today we enjoy the fruits of the
armed struggle which brought freedom, revolution completed
its course we are enjoying the fruits of the armed struggle
we salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil may your
soul rest in peace
dedication to the gallant sons and
daughters of the soil of zimbabwe who lost their lives in the process of fighting for freedom..
poem by Donald Kuutsi
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Today Is The Day And The Time Is Now
Today it is the day and the time is now to go to sleep
Today it is the day and the time is now to eat a healthy breakfast
Today it is the day and the time to enjoy a little peace at home
Today it is the day and the time to grow spiritualy
Today it is the day and the time to welcome all creeds to the church
Today it is the day and time to compose a love song for friends, couples, Lovers, mothers, and daughters and sons
Today it is the day and the time to pay tribute to those who served in The army
Today it is the day and the time to pay tribute to the fellow police men Of our country that makes our community safe and keeps the criminals In jail
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Ode of Mother Mphizi
Oh, sons of Mphizi and daughters
Close to your mother you are
Mopping and cleaning your land
O' great ancenstral bath tab
Vomiting your basin of steam
Just a couple of miles from the tarmac
Going down the rocky strip of marks
Bear, ontop of the tree around
Only the journey smiles
O'great mother of summerland
You come from the spring head
so hot, slipping down the cold sea
Swash, swash and back swash
Malawi lake receives your hand
Oh, mother of the blessed land
Agentle warm bath from your nature
Underground is your root
And with this ready made bath
You prepare to yuor children, adesire
Oh, gread sons of mphizi and daughters
Sniff your mopping and cleaning on the land
Oh, great mother of hotsprings
Settled along time ago
To absorb birds in the garden
As sun rises, grows and die
Every day you bring happiness
In the inseperable china of mother Mphizi
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Daughters, Three
I have three daughters,
They are beautiful, wish you could see.
I love them, more than life itself.
When they were young,
We played games of song,
And laughed, the time away.
Tee ball, volley ball and soccer,
Band, dance and cheer too.
With my three girls, it was always,
one thing or another.
They have since grown,
And it tears at my heart.
My babies aren’t babies,
They are now adults.
One, with her own children,
One, a surgical tech,
And one, finishing her last year
of high school.
My daughters three,
I am proud to be,
Your mom, confidant and friend.
My daughters three,
I wish you only the best
Of this world,
And the next.
poem by Kimberly Lindsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Habits are the daughters of action, but then they nurse their mother, and produce daughters after her image, but far more beautiful and prosperous.
quote by Jeremy Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Farewell
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool sprmg where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
Toiling through the weary day,
And at night the spoiler's prey.
Oh, that they had earlier died,
Sleeping calmly, side by side,
Where the tyrant's power is o'er
And the fetter galls no more!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
From Virginia's hills and waters
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
By the holy love He beareth;
By the bruised reed He spareth;
Oh, may He, to whom alone
All their cruel wrongs are known,
Still their hope and refuge prove,
With a more than mother's love.
Gone, gone, -- sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
Seams their back with many a gash
Shall a mother's kindness bless them
Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go
Faint with toil, and racked with pain
To their cheerless homes again,
There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play;
From the cool spring where they drank;
Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there;
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
Toiling through the weary day,
And at night the spoiler's prey.
Oh, that they had earlier died,
Sleeping calmly, side by side,
Where the tyrant's power is o'er
And the fetter galls no more!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
From Virginia's hills and waters
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone;
By the holy love He beareth;
By the bruised reed He spareth;
Oh, may He, to whom alone
All their cruel wrongs are known,
Still their hope and refuge prove,
With a more than mother's love.
Gone, gone, - sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When She Played It Was On Her Piano
As a kid I had ambitions.
And the first of them was to do my chores,
Before my mother would come home from work.
And she would pack them on too!
'I told you to sweep this floor.'
I did!
'With what?
A sandwich?
Do it again.'
My sister, Mimmie, would look at me.
And smile!
I couldn't wait,
To give her the spray can...
To kill the roaches!
I didn't know we weren't suppose to have them,
Until I was eight years old!
And that's not a joke.
One day when my mother went to work,
I made sure Mimmie got introduced.
She's a grandmother now.
And every once in a while...
She will mention how mean I was to her.
Nobody is going to sit,
And enjoy me getting whipped!
And that has been my philosophy...
Learned very early in my life.
Those days are long gone.
And being assigned to responsibilites,
I believe every child needs.
However...
Too many parents have raised lazy and spoiled children.
Believing one day,
They will awaken and be accountable for their actions!
Today as I reflect on my childhood,
I am glad my mother did not allow me to go to sleep...
To chance an awakening to what I knew I should do.
What I had and was going to do got done,
Before I had an opportunity to give it thought.
Procrastination,
Was not a lesson my mother taught.
I've seen parents,
Do everything possible for their children.
To wonder at a later date in time,
Why their children disrespect them.
Even 'if' I looked as if I wanted to say something back,
My mother would put a 'switch' to my behind.
AND...
I would have to fine one she liked to use on me.
That was before the calling of 911.
Today...
They would call that child abuse.
When I grew up...
We got our 'butts' tore up.
Just for looking as 'if'...
We did not enjoy getting whippings!
And I aint hardly kidding.
How does that 'old' saying go?
~Spare the rod and spoil the child.~
Well...
Mimmie and I were very spoiled.
But...
A rocking of a boat,
Did not float at all...
With Ms Edna!
When she played,
It was on her piano!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heartbeats Skip, Love-Struck Daughers Wait
Heartbeats skip, love-struck daughters wait,
For their infatuations to arrive.
Heartbeats skip, love-struck daughters wait,
The atmosphere oozing a vivacious vibe.
Heartbeat skip, love-stuck daughters wait,
Lights dim, daughters gather like a tribe.
Heartbeats skip, love-struck daughters wait,
The music starts, the feeling hard to describe.
Heartbeats skip, love stuck daughters wait.
With pulsating sounds, the night becomes alive!
poem by Francesca Marie
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The Pride of Parents
Parents of sons and daughters,
Of their fame, grew proud.
Minded not by men who throng
Their sons and daughters,
Parents went pale of their pride.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Were Sons Of Our Fathers
it seems that family values have changed since I was a kid, at least I remember it that way...
When I grow up to be a man
Like my father was when I was young
I hope I can make him so proud of me
Proud enough to call me his son
What makes these people so different now
What makes these times so strange?
Seems most people got most everything they need
How come we see this change
Our sons and daughters seem to be beyond our control
Their smile is fading fast, theyre losing their soul
When will we ever learn, yet Im a believer
When I was a boy, did we have more respect?
This world seemed a nicer place to be
But time slowly passes and one day you look around
You hardly recognise what you see
Our sons and daughters seem to be beyond our control
Their smile is fading fast, theyre losing their soul
Now when will we ever learn, yet Im a believer
Theyre beyond our control
Were all sons of our fathers
Sometimes I feel like mine
And I can hear him say, the things I say
Seems all things come around in time
Why these things happen well never know
Guess that was then and this is now
We always knew that change was gonna come
But I want to go back, please tell me how
Our sons and daughters seem to be beyond our control
Their smile is fading fast, theyre losing their soul
When will we ever learn, yet Im a believer
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Known By
I wasn't her first
Nor the last to quench her thirst
Not including the men in between,
And all that she showed
Was she had no loyalty or a soul
Not even to GOD, Country or Queen.
She has used and used
And also stole and abused
To get from anyone all she can,
She had cheated and robed
And hoped not to be caught
By any Child, Woman or Man.
Whenever you see her around
She is with someone new bound
Her and him and of course her girls,
She’ll make up a new alibi
Reasons she left the last man and why
To You, and Me and the World.
She will tell her own made-up lies
As though to confuse and to hide
As what she had done to everyone else,
She thinks all persons are gullible
When she acts sweet and lovable
Including neighbors, friends and yourself.
She now bows her head low
As about her everyone now does know
Especially when she's with her own daughters,
As sadly the thought to her will occur
That her daughters will be just like her
Sadly known by her Sisters, Mother and Father.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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