The link will be lost.
You might be blessed with a son,
Who in turn might be with a son.
Can it be ever long since then?
Lost will be the link, now or later.
Above your grand father,
You don’t know any.
Below your grand children,
You aren’t known by any.
Lost will be the identity anyhow.
21.06.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My grand dad
I remember you grand dad
Back since I was only three
I remember you granddad
How much you adored me
I remember you grand dad
How you made me smile
I remember you grand dad
You made my toddler years worthwhile
I remember you grand dad
Your lovely smell of tobacco
I remember you grand dad
The love for others you would show
I remember you grand dad
When I came to see you, you would give me a jellybean
I remember you grand dad
You always made me feel like a queen
I remember you grand dad
And I miss you everyday
All to War
I lost my mother
I lost my father
I lost my brother
And lost my dreams too
I lost my friends
I lost my family
I lost my sister
And lost my will too
I lost my school
I lost my work
I lost my city
And lost my rights too
I lost my day
I lost my night
I lost my sight
And lost my morning dew
(to the soul of every victim of war)
poem by Ezekiel Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Still My Father's Child
When I lost my father I put myself under the fatherless, but
Now I know he had to go for me to realise that
I’ve always been blessed with two fathers
When I lost my father I thought everybody you love is bound to leave
But now I know he was just here for a purpose and he had to go
For me to realise that I have a Father that will never leave nor forsake me
When I lost my father I thought it was the end of what we had, but
Now I realise that our relationship was a parable. He has to leave
For me to practice what he taught me with my eternal Father
When I lost my father I thought nobody will ever fill his space, but
He had to leave for me to know my Heavenly Father
For us to have a close relationship that we have now
When I lost my father I though God had taken him away from me, but
Now I understand that he had to go for me
To remain my Father’s child forever.
I AM MY FATHER’S CHILD
poem by Sihle KaPhila Zulu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grand Illusion
I saw you in a dream, it hit me like a bright light
Flashing on a screen, visions of my whole life.
I used to chase the moment of desire
Back to when my young heart burned like a fire.
It was just a, nothing but a grand illusion.
Heart was quicker than the eye.
Nothing but a grand illusion,
Legend in my own mind.
I held you in my arms till the other side of midnight.
Kept you in my mind, you got me through some long nights.
Standing on the threshold of desire,
Caught between the madness and the fire.
Chorus
It was all a grand illusion.
Hand was quicker than the eye.
Nothing but a grand illusion,
Legends in our own minds.
I used to chase the moments of desire
Back to when my young heart burned like a fire.
It was just a, nothing but a, it was all a grand illusion.
Nothing but a grand illusion.
It was all a grand illusion,
Legend in my own mind.
It was just a grand illusion.
Nothing but a grand illusion.
It was just a grand illusion,
Legend in our own mind.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Came
You Came
I remained before you came
After your arrival I remain also
Ballie bloomed before you came
Crow used to cawing at dawn
The barking dog used to embrace me
As soon as I reached to it
Some feature after your arrival
But amongst this something differ
What is that something?
I asked it to a street boy-
He replied, how can I answer-
This footpath was bedroom of my grand father
That was before 1947
Grand father could not sleep because of British mosquito
My father’s expression was same
He was destroyed due to Pakistani mosquito
And what’s about-
The mosquito grew up socking blood of me
Grand father and father- Will let me off?
But I have heard, If this government
May come for next term-
Government will give us mosquito curtain each.
In the previous periods none gave this commitment.
If really I get the mosquito curtain
Then, like my life
Answer of your `something’ will get.
--0--
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children of Lost God
Extended palms, seeking alms
sunken eyes, skeltoned arms
jaundiced skin, frail frames
children of lost God.
Ragged and shabby, looking ravenous
searching morsels of food, trembling and nervous
fighting the odds, weak but courageous
children of lost God.
Here, there and everywhere
at crossroads and traffic signals
selling wares of rich and famous
or washing utencils, running errands
at the stalls, dabhas, small eateries
under the hot sun or the sand
picture this, view not so grand
children of lost God.
Urchins of all ages initiated
into the crimes of different hue
slowly but surely they age to their prime
getting black listed under who is who
death stalks them every now and then
making them prey on a sly
yet they survive
forcing death to give them a bye
children of lost God.
Sodomised, molested or getting raped
gender distinction is never made
the claws of mafia so strong
have no choice but to go along
children of lost God.
Aquiring all vices
no saviour in sight
in time of crisis
abused and used
have no emotions of their own
ocean of tears not to be shown
children of lost God.
Their images haunt
future in them taunt
aware yet unawares
concern for them seldom we flaunt
children of lost God.
Oh God Almighty
help them find the lost God
free them from this bondage
now act and spare the rod
let them recover
lost childhood, innocence
and battered image
children of lost God
children of lost God.
----o-------------
Copyright/Children of lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
All rights reserved.
[email protected]
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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It's Grand
It's grand to be a squatter
And sit upon a post,
And watch your little ewes and lambs
A-giving up the ghost.
It's grand to be a "cockie"
With wife and kids to keep,
And find an all-wise Providence
Has mustered all your sheep.
It's grand to be a Western man,
With shovel in your hand,
To dig your little homestead out
From underneath the sand.
It's grand to be a shearer
Along the Darling-side,
And pluck the wool from stinking sheep
That some days since have died.
It's grand to be a rabbit
And breed till all is blue,
And then to die in heaps because
There's nothing left to chew.
It's grand to be a Minister
And travel like a swell,
And tell the Central District folk
To go to -- Inverell.
It's grand to be a socialist
And lead the bold array
That marches to prosperity
At seven bob a day.
It's grand to be unemployed
And lie in the Domain,
And wake up every second day --
And go to sleep again.
It's grand to borrow English tin
To pay for wharves and docks
And then to find it isn't in
The little money-box.
It's grand to be a democrat
And toady to the mob,
For fear that if you told the truth
They'd hunt you from your job.
It's grand to be a lot of things
In this fair Southern land,
But if the Lord would send us rain,
That would, indeed, be grand!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I lost
I lost my mother
I lost my father
And Ilost my will too
I lost my my house
I lost my school
I lost my happyness too
I lost my my brother
I lost my sister
I lost my frinds too
I lost my life
And I lost my world too
poem by Celine Avoudikpon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Domestic Shades16
For angst theirs against
Infants and babies shut in classes
Montessori 'holidays' means a lot
That grand-mas are the happiest
Running behind grand children
Bleating to grand-son 'yes sir, yes sir'
Towed by grand-daughter like 'little lamb'
Boasting to daughters
Their baby care olden days..
Kept running behind me
My grand-daughter
My daughter behind her
A cypher-contest finally
Caught defeated for bath
But bath-towel crying elsewhere
Escaped to rescue, my daughter
Little wee locked in momentarily
Battled on a chaos further red mouthed
Poking 'Grandeur''s tongue
Prostrating to my back 'toothsome'...
And...
Now, I am not for Montessori Holidays
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Experiencing the hell
Having lost your pride,
Having lost your value,
Also teeth, hair, lust,
And then soon memory,
Must you live far beyond
To experience the very hell,
With the God blessed longivity?
11.02.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My taste of Life
I drink coffee seems it is my favorite wine,
How much I can enjoy until the end of my life?
How much I can keep for happiness as in my life?
When my life is going to be disappearing as a morning frost?
I am still worrying a thousand years’ later although,
There are a few grand children around me.
I could not see my grand children after a century,
But I worry about their fortune and children after my death.
poem by Albert Wong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children And Me
when they see me
alll the children address me
daddy daddy
grand daddy
come daddy daddy come
but ı have not a real child
though all the children are mine
I treat them like mine
aöm I SO OLD
ı SOMETİ MES SUSPECT
but nobody accepts
eldering easily
all living thing
never wants to get older...never
but am I so old
as when
chidren see me
address..
daddy...dady..daddy..
or grand daddy
what a wonderful sight
of a just walking baby
leaning towards me
from her mother bosom
when alll the children see me
they address me
daddy...daddy..dady.
or grand daddy
ı s there a secret relatı on
between the children and me
do you know
can you guess
and tell me
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Language lost
My language lost
My identity lost.
Excuse me
I could not save my language.
I am forced to use foreign tongue
I am forced to shun all that are mine.
Excuse me
I could not save my language
I could not save my life
And I am not fine.
I want to talk in my mother tongue
I want to live in my home
I want to tell my Father to come and rescue.
My language lost
My identity lost.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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J32 The Parables 5
“I’m going out, Father,
Give me my property-share,
For I wish to seek my fortune
Abroad, ” said his second son.
His property, he sold
For a value in gold,
And took his journey
Into a far away country
All his gold had been spent.
He was thrown in wants,
With his riotous living
And no support coming.
His search for job went in vain
As a servant, he fed swine.
The swine’s husk food, he ate,
In repentance, he cursed his fate.
He recalled those days bygone,
When his servants, one by one,
Stood before him with folded hands
And obeyed all his commands.
Realizing his sin against heaven,
He wished to go back again
As a servant, not as a son,
And seek his father’s pardon,
As he went out in quarrel,
He now lost his rights moral
So, he went to the farmhouse
To be a servant of that house.
Seeing his homecoming,
His father went running.
He hugged him tightly
And kissed him fondly.
”I’ve sinned against Heaven,
I’m unworthy to be your son.
Forgive my sin, ” cried the son,
“As a servant please take me in.”
His words, father ignored
And orders then he issued
“Give my son the best robes,
A gold ring and new shoes.”
For him, he held a grand feast,
And a calf cooked, the one fattest,
Everyone enjoyed the treat,
And said that was the one finest.
“A dead son came alive again.
He was lost and found again.”
Like this, he welcomed his son,
Whose love again he had won.
When the elder son came,
His servant then told him
Everything that happened,
On which, he became displeased.
In anger, he stood outside,
And refused to come inside.
He said, “I’m a loyal son, yet a feast,
Similar one, I never had in the past.”
“My son, with me you stayed long,
All that’s mine, to you they belong.
My dead son has come now.
My lost son is found now.”
“You join us in this grand meet
You give him this welcome-treat,
Let us forgive and forget
What he did, as he knew not.”
poem by Simple Simon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Of The Moon
(lead vocal - david paton)
Pay no attention to the writing on the wall
The words seem empty cause theres nothing there at all
We let the wise men beat the drums too soon
We were just children of the moon
No one to turn to
Nowhere to run to even if we could
Too late to save us but try to understand
The seas were empty there was hunger in the land
We let the blind man lead the way too long
Easy to see where we went wrong
Nothing to live for
Nothing to die for
Were lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Children children of the moon watch the world go by
Children children of the moon are hiding from the sun and the sky
Children children of the moon watch it all go by
Children children of the moon are blinded by the light in their eyes
No one to turn to
Nowhere to run to even if we could
Follow the pilgrim to the temple of the dawn
The altars empty and the sacrifice is gone
We let the madmen write the golden rules
We were no more than mortal fools
Nothing to live for
Nothing to die for
Were lost in the middel of a hopeless world
Lost in the middle of a hopeless world
Children children of the moon watch the world go by
Children children of the moon hiding from the sky
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Towards The Final Day
Towards the final day
Knows one for certain hundred percent
Sure to wind up thoroughly
Leaving behind even the mortal sheath
Thereso the blood vessels shrink
Then the brass and bronze vessels
Then the sentimental tradition
Children can't be glued to
Tradititional furniture pappa's, grand-pa's then
Espoused with mamma's, grand-ma's silver, gold
All secretly or forcibly to the mart
Grand-old-mistress innocent
Holding back her darlings' left-by goods
Snaps, clothes, books
Grand-old-mister adament
Mindless leaving his own house
Tear-sold bucks mamma's, pappa's
Celebrate purchasing antiques..
Children enjoy their special days
Far farther
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost in nature
Today
I'm sitting here in the Nature
and i'm
lost in its beauty
and in its silence
and in the serenity
and in its simplicity.
.
I'm
lost in the winter chilling breeze
lost in its swiftness
.
lost in the twirling mountains
lost in its unimaginable heights
.
lost in the blue oceans
lost in its fatal depth
.
lost in the moving birds
lost in the freedom they share
.
lost in the drowning fishes
lost in their unique quality of surviving underwater
.
lost in the blessed trees
lost in their old ages
.
lost in the serenity
lost in the search of my lord my saviour.
.
I don't know which way i'm going and where will it lead
but the way which goes through nature will definitely not make me bleed
i'm lost and i want to be lost in nature
cause its leading to
'THE INNER ME'.
poem by Shivani Misra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We don't cry—Tim and I
196
We don't cry—Tim and I,
We are far too grand—
But we bolt the door tight
To prevent a friend—
Then we hide our brave face
Deep in our hand—
Not to cry—Tim and I—
We are far too grand—
Nor to dream—he and me—
Do we condescend—
We just shut our brown eye
To see to the end—
Tim—see Cottages—
But, Oh, so high!
Then—we shake—Tim and I—
And lest I—cry—
Tim—reads a little Hymn—
And we both pray—
Please, Sir, I and Tim—
Always lost the way!
We must die—by and by—
Clergymen say—
Tim—shall—if I—do—
I—too—if he—
How shall we arrange it—
Tim—was—so—shy?
Take us simultaneous—Lord—
I—"Tim"—and Me!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Identity
the only identity i have
that will remain...
is in the eyes... of small
children, hungry and orphaned,
their families lost
to wars, earthquakes, floods,
disease, poverty...
children of different colors,
nationalities, faiths...
children without names.
i am their father, their mother,
their sister, their brother...
i am the answer to their hunger,
i am its cause.
i am their hunger!
i have no name.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Great 'Grandma
The fussy Grandma
was on her last moments.
Sensing that she was knocking
at the doors of 'Death',
her grand children were
brought one by one before her.
Memories stinging
of momentous years
began to come into her mind.
How with tricks she drove out
her aged mother-in-law
just a week after her
coming into that house
as the first daughter-in-law!
The eldest grandchild
trickled down sugary water
into her mouth.
Her henpecked husband
reared his head in her mind.
Her eyes got wet
when her mind recalled
how her husband hanged himself
believing her feigning torrid looks
at some neighbours, as true.
The next grand child
dripped water into her mouth.
When she remembered
how her first daughter-in-law
sought herself divorce
being afraid of her torture,
her lips moved a bit
and the third grand child
rained sweetened water.
When she thought of her
second techie-daughter-in-law
who escaped her ill-treatment
by settling down abroad
and refused to take her there,
she tried to gnash her teeth.
Her upper jaw lowered a little.
The foreign-settled in-law
came by flight and entered
at her mother-in-law's last minute.
She poured pure honey down
into the gaped mouth of her in-law.
The great grandma lost her breath
and was lost for ever.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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