Covering Up Your Tracks
Your footprints-oh they match!
All the tell-tale signs are very clear-
ALL the dirt has been dug up--
And the proof is in the pudding-i hear;
Coming from the oceans of yesterday--
And the Steamship S.S. Bernardo of before--
Mary-she had a little Lamb...
Who wanted-oh so much more;
S.S. plotted and planned voraciously-
With his German doc pal who excelled in dirt-
Doc and S.S.-oh how they worked it...
Spreading all the doom and gloom of hurt;
Emily the Proud Big Bird was their target-
As was her father-most dear-
They were part of a Brass Ring Merry-Go-Round...
'1978' was never quite so clear;
Predictions-oh they were coming--
About Emilys move down south...
And Betty announced a published warning--
'Come Spring-Emilys returning'-bellowed out of her mouth;
Warning S.S. and the Aussie Doc...!
They'd better get their umbrellas out--
Cuz Emily the Big Proud Bird was returnin'...
It was more a yell than a shout;
Now you see i was Emily the Big Bird with the Golden Tail-
And i did return as predicted in the Spring of 1979-
Cuz my father had a heart attack and died...!
Tell you their prediction was a crime! ! ! :
Today, i leave all things Greek alone...
As i know where greed and evil truly dwell--
Upon a distant hill they are touching softly?
Just one step away from Hell! ! ! ;
Dedicated to my beloved father
Died: May 7,1979
With hope and prayers that this
kind of thing never happens to
Another human being.
May 19,2010
Underneath The Umbrella
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
April Showers
It is the season of new beginnings...
Spring removes her winter robe
And fades into rainbows of hope;
The sun shines its headlights into April-
And in the garden the effluent scent
Of multiple blooms delights the nose;
The naked trees are no longer bare
Clothed in egg shell, pink and green.
Now entertaining the sometime visit
Of the butterfly and bee;
Showers are but a necessity
Splashed to chase the thirst away
They are never maudlin weeping tears
But always fall on purpose
For they help to bring
Even more blossoms to May;
Dedicated To: 'Betty'...AKA- - - - - - -
Remembering 1978
August: Seattle Times
And what you said:
'Emily took off like a big bird
For L.A. and Australia
But you had better get your
Umbrella's out as she is
Flying back in the spring...'
I did fly back in the Spring
Of 1979...for my fathers last
Two heart attacks and death.
Heart attack in April and last
One in May... and then he passed!
We will always wonder how
You knew that i would be
coming back in April
When even the doctors did
Not know!
By: Theodora Onken
April 9,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
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I have a Bird in spring
5
I have a Bird in spring
Which for myself doth sing—
The spring decoys.
And as the summer nears—
And as the Rose appears,
Robin is gone.
Yet do I not repine
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown—
Learneth beyond the sea
Melody new for me
And will return.
Fast is a safer hand
Held in a truer Land
Are mine—
And though they now depart,
Tell I my doubting heart
They're thine.
In a serener Bright,
In a more golden light
I see
Each little doubt and fear,
Each little discord here
Removed.
Then will I not repine,
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown
Shall in a distant tree
Bright melody for me
Return.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Now Little Bird?
what now little bird?
you look around you
the nest is empty
and mother bird is far away
and siblings
have taken the first jump
to the pond
to learn to float
and then
fly
you think that mother-bird
comes back
to feed you with another worm?
no, little bird
no one is coming back for you
you do not even
know if you have a father-bird
to save you
no, little bird
do not wait
do not waste your time
the sun shines
and it is time
for you to go too
fly now
little bird
find the real meaning of your wings....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Question and answer
THE CHILD
Father! Within the forest's bound
No bird I found,
No sound of song the woods around.
THE FATHER
The bird that glad his song us gave,
Flies o'er the wave;
Perhaps he there will find his grave.
THE CHILD
But why does he not wait till later?
THE FATHER
He goes where light and warmth are greater
THE CHILD
Father! It selfish seems to me,
Far off to flee,
When all we others here must be.
THE FATHER
With new-born spring comes new-born song;
By instinct strong
The better new he'll bring erelong.
THE CHILD
But if in death the cold waves swallow-?
THE FATHER
Others will come; his kin will follow.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Dear Father
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?
We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,
Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.
We are just flower-buds of your garden,
And are asked for, in every household, dear father.
We are just birds from your cage,
Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.
I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;
And parted from my buddies too, dear father.
When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,
My brother fainted and fell, dear father.
As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,
I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
poem by Amir Khusro
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My Sister, Lost and Found
I had a sister for seventeen years,
She went missing, many tears,
We wondered what she was up to,
We didn't know she was forced to,
By her sick boyfriend,
This abusive boyfriend,
He controlled her every move,
Kept her weak, there's no prove.
When father died, the saddest truth,
When father died, the loss of youth,
Broken spell of the gnome,
Born again, little sister calls home
Father's prayers were heard,
Sad, No father's love, this lost bird,
But mother's love still remain,
To cut through the years of pain,
Her journey on trust has just begun,
My sister, has returned to the sun.
Copyright Philo Yan August 25,2012
Hello Father
The year is 1979.
Hello father
I am your son
You and mom have a wonderful chance
I am here for you
To mold. To refine.
To make better than you
A beautiful gift you are part of
Where have you gone?
Hello father
I am older now
I am growing like you
I am doing what you do
I am emulating you
But you don't see me
You don't pat me
Your back is what I see
Where have you gone?
Hello father
I am now turning teen
Changes in my life so complex
I have my own thoughts
I have my own beliefs
But I'm not sure if they are correct
Moms can only do so much
But a father to a son
Is mighty. Indestructible. Heroic.
Where have you gone?
Hello father
I am now a man
I know all about you
I know your type
I was too young to see
That you were not a father
Just a person playing one to me.
poem by C.R. Blazo
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Dog Dirt
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna step on it,
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna slip on it,
Dog dirt, you need to watch your step,
Dog dirt; check yourself for any specks.
Now when I say dog dirt I mean my thoughts,
I’m using it as a metaphor incase I get caught,
Now I love her but I can’t tell her,
Because if she ever found out I’ll be feeling under the weather,
Together forever, probably never I think,
But all I do is think I just keep my mouth shut,
My thoughts are dog dirt,
Don’t touch or stumble on them or I’ll get hurt.
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna step on it,
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna slip on it,
Dog dirt, you need to watch your step,
Dog dirt; check yourself for any specks.
I hope that’s not crap on your shoe,
Because I accidentally wrote in that text I love you,
You replied I love you too if only it was true,
I’m a fool for ever falling for you,
I’m a fool defiantly if you ever step in my do, do,
I’ll zip my mouth closed so nothing blurts out,
I’ll rip my vocal cords out so that I can’t shout,
I’m a dreamer, but not a believer, trust me.
poem by Gaz illionaire
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My Submission to Warning
i walk outside
the sun going down
the big black bird
visiting again
he crows at me
im just walking by
but he insists to call
like a warning
i should obey
what do you want
stupid black bird
your turn to leave
dont bother me this way
but he keeps on
calling my name
crowing in shame
as i walk by him
his eyes on me
almost like a sign
whining for attention
waiting for my submission
i surrender to him
he speaks soft
he tells me to stop
he opens his mouth
as the words come out
'i wanted to warn you
theres a man out here
wanting you dead
so dont move ahead
go inside
go to bed'
a warning so soft
the big black bird
waited for my attention
to warn me
the bad man
was out tonight
i didnt move ahead
i went back to bed
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
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Father's Day Reminder
A mother's work is never done
A father's work is rarely appreciated or much fun
Time to let any bad feelings be undone
Father's day is coming....dear daughter or son
Here's a why to honor your father
That isn't really hard
Whether he deserves it or not
Send a card
Today is a good day to get it in the mail
Throw it in the letter bale
The postal service delivers in rain or hail
But get done early, in case they fail
Before on decent cards there is a run
Go to the store today and 'get 'er done'
But if he's not here or passed away
Remember him kindly on Father's Day
And if he's abandoned you or he was never around
Don't let him hear a complaining sound
A perfect father is rarely found
And to past hurt we should not be bound
Of father's we have each only one
From that we should not run
Father's day is a day to reach out to fogive
Father's day is a day to appreciate and to give
(because you don't really understand it's strains unless you've been a father)
poem by James T. Adair
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To The Cuckoo
O BLITHE New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! Shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear,
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off, and near.
Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of Sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.
Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even yet thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery;
The same whom in my school-boy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.
And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.
O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place;
That is fit home for Thee!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Father Unite Us
Today my prayer will be short and sweet for you Father has given me yet another day to stand with strength upon my feet. Father I ask only one thing in this short little prayer. I ask Father that you unite all the people of this earth as one. I ask Father that you help us to realize that we really are sisters and brothers, that we are covered by the blood of the lamb, that no one can come between us while we are holding your glorious hand. Father unite us so that we will grow strong and able to fight the enemy. Protect us Father while we stand as soldiers under your great umbrella. Let us find peace in this world Father. I leave it all to you Father for you are our great leader, you are the King, You have the ability to make great mountains crumble and to part the rough waters of the sea, you are the all knowing and the great almighty.
Father I leave this prayer for peace to you, knowing that you will know what to do.
I pray Father in the name of your precious son Jesus. Amen
Written: March 2,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
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Dear Father
Anderson / squire
(originally released in 1970 as a single, not included on time and a word)
Here are the books
Of luke
You*ll need them
To open the seed
To see what goes on in the world
You*re in my mind
Catch the wind and hold on tight
To what we*ll find
And hear what goes on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s anything you*d like to say
That could help me in any way
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long for you to come along
Help me on that day
When you*d take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know?
Is there anything before I go?
Dear father, i*m hungry, i*m cold
Dear father, feeling terribly old
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
They*re on their own
Needing their face, a place
Hope....home
To see what goes on in the world
They*re who you need
To show them why they*re wrong
Oh why indeed
We need to go on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s any complication
That you*d like to talk over with me about
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long
For you to come along
We can work it all out
When you take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know
Is there anything before I go
Dear father, you must be putting me on
Dear father, cause most of their minds are gone
Dear father, they will not understand me
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, can I give it a miss
Dear father, cause i*m not ready for this
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, won*t you leave me alone
Dear father, won*t you to let me go home
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
Dear father, won*t they crucify me
Dear father, I just couldn*t do that
Dear father, cause that*s not where it*s at now (hey)
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Father
Anderson / squire
(originally released in 1970 as a single, not included on time and a word)
Here are the books
Of luke
You*ll need them
To open the seed
To see what goes on in the world
You*re in my mind
Catch the wind and hold on tight
To what we*ll find
And hear what goes on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s anything you*d like to say
That could help me in any way
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long for you to come along
Help me on that day
When you*d take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know?
Is there anything before I go?
Dear father, i*m hungry, i*m cold
Dear father, feeling terribly old
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
They*re on their own
Needing their face, a place
Hope....home
To see what goes on in the world
They*re who you need
To show them why they*re wrong
Oh why indeed
We need to go on in the world
Here is all you see
Everything is made for you
From me
If there*s any complication
That you*d like to talk over with me about
Cause i*ve been waiting for so long
For you to come along
We can work it all out
When you take over all the things heaven has made for you
Is there anything you think you should know
Is there anything before I go
Dear father, you must be putting me on
Dear father, cause most of their minds are gone
Dear father, they will not understand me
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, can I give it a miss
Dear father, cause i*m not ready for this
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
I*m not feeling good like I think I should
Dear father, won*t you leave me alone
Dear father, won*t you to let me go home
Dear father, I don*t think I can see
Dear father, won*t they crucify me
Dear father, I just couldn*t do that
Dear father, cause that*s not where it*s at now (hey)
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Villanelle Of Spring Bells
Bells in the town alight with spring
converse, with a concordance of new airs
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
People emerge from winter to hear them ring,
children glitter with mischief and the blind man hears
bells in the town alight with spring.
Even he on his eyes feels the caressing
finger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Bird feels the enchantment of his wing
and in ten fine notes dispels twenty cares.
Bells in the town alight with spring
warble the praise of Time, for he can bring
this season: chimes the merry heaven bears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
All evil men intent on evil thing
falter, for in their cold unready ears
bells in the town alight with spring
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Submitted by Andrew Todd
poem by Keith Douglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The End Of May
'Our governess is not in school,
So we may talk a bit;
Sit down upon this little stool,
Come, little Mary, sit:
'And, my dear playmate, tell me why
In dismal black you're drest?
Why does the tear stand in your eye?
With sobs why heaves your breast?
'When we're in grief, it gives relief
Our sorrows to impart;
When you've told why, my dear, you cry,
'Twill ease your little heart.'
'O, it is trouble very bad
Which causes me to weep;
All last night long we were so sad,
Not one of us could sleep.
'Beyond the seas my father went,
'Twas very long ago;
And he last week a letter sent
(I told you so, you know)
'That he was safe in Portsmouth bay,
And we should see him soon,
Either the latter end of May,
Or by the first of June.
'The end of May was yesterday,
We all expected him;
And in our best clothes we were dressed,
Susan, and I, and Jim.
'O how my poor dear mother smiled,
And clapped her hands for joy;
She said to me, 'Come here, my child,
And Susan, and my boy.
''Come all, and let us think,' said she,
'What we can do to please
Your father, for to-day will he
Come home from off the seas.
''That you have won, my dear young son,
A prize at school, we'll tell,
Because you can, my little man,
In writing all excel:
''And you have made a poem, nearly
All of your own invention:
Will not your father love you dearly
When this to him I mention?
''Your sister Mary, she can say
Your poetry by heart;
And to repeat your verses may
Be little Mary's part.
''Susan, for you, I'll say you do
Your needlework with care,
And stitch so true the wristbands new
Dear father's soon to wear!'
''O hark!' said James; 'I hear one speak;
'Tis like a seaman's voice.'-
Our mother gave a joyful shriek;
How did we all rejoice!
''My husband's come!' 'My father's here!'
But O, alas, it was not so;
It was not as we said:
A stranger seaman did appear,
On his rough cheek there stood a tear,
For he brought to us a tale of woe,-
Our father dear was dead.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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Gods Call Pain And All
Once lost in the wilderness--
Overwhelmed by the towering trees...
Confused by the green branches-
But comforted by the breeze;
All alone in the meadow--
Where the Larkspur doth grow--
But i am enchanted in the valley...
'Neath the moons most heavenly glow;
I am alive in the Garden...
With my sweet red rose--
Imbued with all of the colours-
I am inspired to write this prose;
Gathering up all of Gods nature...
With my quill i shall write...
A journal about needed nurture...
'Neath Gods most loving sight;
Entranced under blue skies...
I am warmed by the sweet Sun--
Caressed by the Butterfly--
Its to the River of Hope i run;
Wading in its rippling waters...
While glimpsing the song-bird
Listening to its sweet melody-
Its Golden Psalms clearly heard;
I am at one with the Earth--
Alive and at last free...
Touched by all of Gods creations-
With admiration for the Bee;
Its sting is a reminder--
That in life there is some pain...!
But we shall survive-still alive...
Eased by the coming of the rain;
Underneath The Umbrella
May 19,2010
Dedicated to: Emily Dickinson
poem by Theodora Onken
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