Ecstatic Truth
What bedtime stories
Will you choose for your children
To knock them back
Into the poppies to sleep,
My pretties,
To send them snoozing
From their overfed
Satanic Paradise
Caged in a middle-class house
Sequestered by a manicured
Golf-course
Locked with a gate code
The nitric oxide allaying fears
Into the briefest of
Sugar-coated comas?
Certainly not the vulgar
Hypocrisy of your
Communist youth—
That the man you first loved,
Which was I,
Is not their father,
Nor is the next one
(The stranger you left me for) :
But the third one,
You assure them:
You are rather sure he is their father.
The ecstatic truth
That you can never
Explain to them,
The poetic justice you fear:
That a homeless man,
A breathless copse of shedding limbs
In the croaking gutter,
Maggots vortexing a writhing sea
In his swollen liver,
Has more glow of deity
In him than
Their poor,
Well-kept mother.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mother, Father
Mother, father please explain to me
Why a world so full of mystery
A place so bitter and still so sweet
So beautiful and yet so full of sad, sad...
Mother, father please explain to me
Why forests march to desert speed
While snowcapped mountains melt away
What do we tell our babies, when do we say, oh
Mother, father please explain to me
How a man who rocks his child to sleep
Pulls the trigger on his brothers heart
He digs a hole right to the middle of this storm of hatred
Mother, father please explain to me
How it could be so this world has come to be
A precious balance in between
Such cruelty and such kindness please
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
Unequaled in her blessings, oh, I see
Unbridled hatred so extreme, please tell me
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be so
Twisted between time and dreams
Oh, mother, father please explain to me
Oh, whats all this talk about?
All this talk about it
Spinning down, down, down, down, down
All this talk about
Endless words without
Nothings done
Mother, father do you know
Why one mans belly overflows
Another sleeps in hungers bed
Oh, we trade our world for a piece of bread
Oh mother, father please explain to me
How this rare worlds come to be
A place so full of color yet overflowing
Always in black and white
Drowning in the waters of our...
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
While still blessed in all the things we see
Such a sad, sad home for you and me
Come out, and hold,
Come on out you
Come on out you
Come and save yourself
Come on out you
Come on were taking the water
Were taken the water
Were taken the water
But you know
We got the freedom
We got the freedom
Theres no God above
And no hell below
Oh, its here with us
Its up to us
To keep afloat
How this sweet world has come to be
Oh to keep afloat
Mother, father please explain to me
How this rare world has come to be
Oh, let the blue planet
Let the blue planet
Mother, father please explain to me
Mother, father please explain
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Father Forgive
Father forgive,
The hatred which divides
Nation from nation
Race from race
And class from class.
Father forgive,
The covetous desires
Of people and nations
To possess
What is not their own.
Father forgive,
Our greed which
Exploits the work,
Of human hands
And lays waste to the Earth.
Father forgive,
Our envy,
Of the welfare
And happiness
Of others.
Father forgive,
Our indifference,
To the plight
Of the imprisoned
The homeless
And the refugee.
Father forgive,
The lust which
Dishonors the bodies
Of men, women,
And children.
Father forgive,
The pride which leads us,
To trust in ourselves
And not in God.
poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Agrarian Unrest....
my father is a landlord.
He sent me to a big university in the city.
I studied philosophy.
The university taught me about equality.
Compassion. We studied existentialism
The poverty of the masses.
The agrarian unrest.
The essence of man
The quality of life
Justifications of living
Explanations of death
After life.
I wrote a class report about a child who ate
only a handful of rice for breakfast
plus brown sugar as viand
and then a glass of water for his thirst
from the nearby river
and then he was left in the house
as his father works in the field
and his mother
sells vegetables in the market.
When i left the child, The
heavy silence of the world fell upon my shoulder.
One day father took me for a vacation in our land.
There are mountains. Lots of trees.
A beautiful place.
There is a house there
Dilapidated. A tenant lives there
There is a hungry child.
Drought. Long hot days.
I pity the poor condition. But i no longer ask for the cause.
Then the tenant asks me if i can give him land.
Or a part of father's land.
I have no answer.
I could have told him, I do not own anything,
I do not live here
and father is still alive...
And wants me to be firm and cruel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Canada
England, father and mother in one,
Look on your stalwart son.
Sturdy and strong, with the valour of youth,
Where is another so lusty?
Coated and mailed, with the armour of truth,
Where is another so trusty?
Flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone,
He is yours alone.
England, father and mother in one,
See the wealth of your son.
Forests primeval, and virginal sod,
Wheat-fields golden and splendid:
Riches of nature and opulent God
For the use of his children intended.
A courage that dares, and a hope that endures,
And a soul all yours.
England, father and mother in one,
Hear the cry of your son.
Little cares he for the glories of earth
Lying around and above him,
Yearning is he for the rights of his birth,
And the heart of his mother to love him.
Vast are your gifts to him, ample his store,
Now open your door.
England, father and mother in one,
Heed the voice of your son.
Proffer him place in your councils of state:
Let him sit near, and attend you.
Ponder his words in the hour of debate,
Strong is his arm to defend you.
Flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone,
Give him his own.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Missing Link
A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said.
The children in the street
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother, ” are you sure he is my father? ”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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William House and Family
Come all kind friends, both far and near,
Come listen to me and you shall hear --
It's of a family and their fate,
All about them I will relate.
They once did live at Edgerton,
They once did live at Muskegon,
From there they went to Chicago,
Which proved their fatal overthrow.
It was William House's family,
As fine a family as you see --
His family was eleven in all,
I do not think it was very small.
Two children died some years ago,
Before they went to Chicago,
Five children there he had with him,
When death his home there enters in.
The small-pox then was raging there,
And Oh! it would not their house spare,
For all but one was sick of them,
A dreadful house it must have been.
The eldest girl was married then,
The eldest boy was in Michigan,
The second boy he was at home,
And took care of them all alone.
His father and his mother dear,
And dear sister, too, I hear,
Were very sick and in his care,
And no kind friends to help him there:
Two little brothers, and a baby too,
Made six in all -- what could he do,
He had to take care of them all,
The baby, too, was very small.
As he would go to his father's bed,
And try to soothe his aching head,
"My son, I pray you leave me, do
Go take care of poor mother, too."
"Your mother and sister need your care,
And your little infant brother there;
Oh! Charlie, Charlie, take care of them,
My son, do all for them you can."
It seemed as though he did not know
That his poor soul so soon must go,
And leave his little ones he loved,
To go to that bright world above.
But God he called his soul away,
It had to leave, it could not stay --
He never more on earth will be,
His soul is from sin and sorrow free.
Charles helped the sexton, I am told,
To lay his form in the coffin cold --
How sad, how sad, poor soul was he,
When last his father's form did see.
Minnie May House she had to go,
And leave her friends that loved her so --
She was a girl in her teens,
A lovely flower as e'er was seen.
Minnie and her mother lay on one bed,
And when Charles said, "our Minnie is dead,"
His mother then she did grow wild,
And early after knew her child.
They buried Minnie by her father's side,
And left them there where they had died --
Charles took his mother and brothers then
And brought them back to Michigan.
For the mother and the baby too,
Kind friends did all that they could do,
But those poor souls they could not save,
For now they're sleeping in their grave.
Oh! what a noble son was he,
His age was then only sixteen --
Charles House's name I have told before
God bless his soul forever more.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
The small buns you bought for me still smell good,
The grapes brought, coming from city is still my favorite food;
The fruits you brought me with roots; are they heaven sent?
Yet I didn’t pay any rent pay as you are my parent!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Do you know who my MAHATMA is? Oh, my brother!
He is not Mandela, nor Gandhi but my father
Who taught me A to Z rather?
What to do and what not to do, I gather!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
When I think of all the things you gave to me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
............................................. ................................................. .....
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now continue Your reading in part 2 the poem.
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2) contin'd in part 2.. Read it.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unseen
something's wrong with mother always cleaning the house
and father complains for she does nothing but sweep and scrub
and dust and wipe and rub,
the floors are shiny and father does not like it
he may slide and the children too
and each may hurt the body, but mother cannot be stopped
and we complain like what father does, but mother does not
really mind, for she has become so hardheaded because father
slaps her and we make her deaf with our grumblings
until then when mother died and father cried and we felt we had all our
lives wasted, but there was one in the family who smiled
someone who thought that mother simply did what she liked best
clean the dirt, mop the floors, get all the spider's cobwebs
someone sees the beauty of mother, she's doing her chores still
but now unseen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hands & Knees
You see me walking away
What more could I say than sorry
I failed by all your complaints
You pushed a life change but its not me
And filthy hands lay apon my chest
Lay upon my sin, but I do it for green
And in your mind you are blind
And your back turn so fine
Where were you when I needed you most
So mother so father
Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
My self-indulgence to blame
For all of the shame in the family
You dont know what its like
How I feel how I cry
How I hate the way I hate my life
So mother so father Im on my hands and knees
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
Pues madre, y padre
Esta vida no quiero vivir
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
So mother so father
I dont want to live this way
So mother so father
Im scrounging for whats left of me
song performed by by Unloco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Somebody
Paula cole & t-boz
(appears on paula coles album amen)
I want to be somebody
I want to make a difference
Little boy caught in a drive-by
Witnessed the killer who made his daddy die,
And cause he identified and signed the dotted line,
He could feel it in his stomach, he signed away his life
Little boy who once was the leader of his class
The little source of joy, always neatly dressed
Now would hang his head and be left crying at his desk,
Was found with his mother, lying in her lap
With two bullets in his chest
Bridge:
And, oh my god, what is this madness?
I will not let it kill my gladness
And, oh my god, what is this madness?
My joy inside will send this message
Chorus:
I want to be somebody
I want to make a difference,
For we all are children of the mother
I want to be somebody
I want to make a difference,
For we all are children of the father
Outspoken man, leading sisters and brothers,
Picked himself up from hustling, drugs and gutters
Doing time on the inside, he found a higher power
Now, back with a mission to help us help each other
Respected from bourgeoisie to homeless in the street
From universities, africa, the middle east
And through the threats of death he spoke truth and set men free
But the power of the truth made enemies of the weak
He was killed by his own people
Bridge
Chorus
Ignite this fire inside, this light that is the truth
Shake off the systems chains, no longer be their fool
In the face of brutality, show the other cheek
Trigger-happy policing will never kill our dignity
Bridge
Chorus
song performed by by TLC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Spoke in Code
Father spoke in code
Mother understood.
She would cry
once he went to bed.
I never understood the code.
My sister didn't either.
As we got older, we quit
asking Mother what he said.
A feral cat claimed our yard.
It would leap the fence
when anyone appeared.
Except, of course, Father.
When he came out to walk
around the garden after supper,
the cat would sit straight up,
then rub against his leg
and look at him as if it understood
what others never could.
My sister used to say
the two of us were proof
Father and Mother
got together twice.
I told her I wasn't so certain.
I looked a lot like Mr. Brompton,
the next-door neighbor.
He used to buy us sugar cones
from the ice cream truck.
My sister, by the way, didn't look
like anyone in the family either,
but that was 40 years ago
when I last saw her.
I went away to college
and she got married.
We were never close after that.
Not even Christmas cards.
Forty years is a long time.
Now, we plan to get together
for a weekend this summer
before one of us dies.
I suggested we wait
till one of us is terminal.
What's the rush, I said.
But my wife told her
I was only kidding,
that we'll be coming
and not to make a fuss.
Burgers and hot dogs
will do just fine.
I know what Sis and I
will talk about that weekend,
the two people we'll always
have in common, no matter
how many years and miles
may lie between us.
Father and Mother have been
dead for decades now
but they're still alive in us.
I talk in code, my wife says,
and my sister cries a lot,
now that her husband's dead.
The one thing I want to know
is if my sister knows
what happened to the cat.
It knew the code,
may have had some answers.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Home
All alone
I can't seem to fight these feelings
I'm caught in the middle of this
And my wounds are not healing
I'm stuck in between my parents
I wish I had someone to talk to
Someone I could confide in
I just want to know the truth
I just want to know the truth
Want to know the truth
Broken home
All alone
I know my mother loves me
but does my father even care
If I'm sad or angry
you were never ever there
when I needed you
I hope you regret what you did
I think I know the truth
Your father did the same to you
I'm crying day and night now
whats wrong with me
I cannot fight now
I feel like a weak link
Push it back inside
It feels bad to be alone
Crying by yourself living in a broken home
How couldI tell it So all y'all could feel it
Depression strikes hard like my old earth
Would tell it
To her son she told me I'm the one
Pain bottled up about to blow like a gun
Stories that I tell are nonfiction
And you can take it back
Cause it's already done
song performed by by Papa Roach from Infest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Locked
Children tattooed, pierced and studded, dreadlocked;
parents panicked, indecisive, deadlocked.
Mother to daughter: live as you must, if you must;
for just a bit longer, keep the door to your bed locked.
Son to father: teach me what you know,
but I won't agree to keep the door to my head locked.
Mother to father: where have you been, and where
have you kept your thoughts and all you might have said locked?
They'd come so far, and then she saw, in him,
the door to their life, their home, their daily bread locked.
One night in a fiery panic dream he ran
and found the door toward which he'd wildly fled locked.
Aging, but at long last ripe and ready,
she found the on-ramp to the road ahead locked.
They learned too late the cost of keeping that cellar
full of truths that could not be gainsaid locked.
The young return. Too many find the way back
to lives in the country for which they fought and bled locked.
Eric, old friend, as you try each door in the mind,
will you wake one day to find the heart instead locked?
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Five Lines of Freedom
Five Lines of Freedom
Five Lines of Freedom
In the eye of the Clergy your husband will not save himself but wind up keeping you from going inn to Glory but shortly you will see the truth again
In the Laymens terms selling items for the living is not work but feeding frenzy needs the job the husband will be home to sleep to love you more then ever more
IN her own eye she wishes she could give the Father back the finger give the finger to the Father of the Man
From the passing stranger the point is the poem he wishes to write poetry he must be homeless to fulfill his destiny
from no viewpoint
in 100 April years God will stop these fears he will wipe away your tears for YOU my April fools who live inn loving Harmony
poem by Charles Hice
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Single Father
Lately I've been spendin lots of time with my kid
Tellin him stories
About the things that we did
When we were a family
Long time ago
I've answered his questions
Till I'm blue in the face
Wish all that hurt in him
I could erase
But I tell him the truth
Cause he ain't too young to know
Single father
Part time mother
When I'm not one
Then I'm the other
You used to be
My full time lover
Now I'm a single father
And a part time mother
I spend every minute
I can with my boy
There's no doubt about it
He's my pride and joy
Someday he will grow up
And I wont have him no more
Some things I just find
Too hard to explain
So we go to McDonalds
Or I buy him a train
And we go put it together
On the living room floor
Such is the life
Of a single father
He says daddy explain
If its not too much bother
While its just you and me
Living here in this home
I don't understand it
And neither does he
Why there's just two
When there should be three of us
Sharing this moment
Lord I feel so alone
[repeat chorus]
song performed by by Kid Rock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘father”:
'A FATHER IS SOMEONE WHO'S THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU NEED HIM
A FATHER NEVER LETS YOU DOWN
A FATHER IS SOMEONE THERE TO HUG YOU WHEN SOMETHING GOES WRONG
A FATHER IS THERE TO DRY UP THE TEARS
A FATHER IS THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO LEAVES THE MOTHER WHEN HE FINDS OUT SHE'S PERGANT
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO DENYS THEIR OWN CHILD
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO LEAVES YOU LEFT BEHIND
A FATHER IS'NT SOMEONE WHO SAYS ONE THING TO ONE PERSON THEN SAYS ANOTHER THING TO SOMEONE ELSE
A FATHER IS’NT WHAT I SEE IN YOU”
poem by Yeslin Salazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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American Soldier
His face against the window the boy starts to cry,
Out of all days on his birthday the 9th of July,
His father had just left to go back to Iraq,
And the boy didn't know if he'd ever come back,
This wasn't the first time his father went away,
But everytime he did the boy would pray,
That his father would return,
Without even a burn,
It was realy hard to have faith,
That his father would be safe,
When everyday on TV,
He'd hear about another injury,
The boy would lose hope everytime he heard a knock on the door,
And it wasn't his father coming back from the war,
Every night before going to sleep the boy thought about the war,
How his dream to be like his father in the army was not anymore,
One morning the boy woke up and he went to eat his breakfast,
And when he did he saw the one that for a long time he missed,
He tried but couldn't hold in his tears,
After realizing that God had heard his prayers,
Never again will I leave his father then said,
I have realized now all the tears I have caused to be shed,
Wether it be to family or to a friend,
This is THE END!
poem by Motti Dahan
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