Fatherless... where u at?
Where were you father when I fell?
I lookd to you for so much support
I wished we could get close
But I always knew you were far away
Where were you father when I fell?
I've scraped my arm pretty bad
You never thought to look after me
Tears flow down my face
From the agonizing pain
Of not having you around
My heart is wounded
I wish we could be a team
Where were you father when I fell?
poem by Shane Clawson
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Related quotes
Menaphon: Sephesta's Song to her Child
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
-
When thy father first did see
-
Such a boy by him and me,
-
He was glad, I was woe,
-
Fortune changed made him so,
-
When he left his pretty boy
-
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Streaming tears that never stint,
-
Like pearl-drops from a flint,
-
Fell by course from his eyes,
-
That one another's place supplies;
-
Thus he griev'd in every part,
-
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
-
When he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
The wanton smil'd, father wept,
-
Mother cried, baby leapt;
-
More he crow'd, more he cried,
-
Nature could not sorrow hide:
-
He must go, he must kiss
-
Child and mother, baby bless,
-
For he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Not, My Wanton
WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe:
Fortune changèd made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl drops from a flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies:
Thus he grieved in every part,Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
The wanton smiled, father wept;
Mother cried, baby lept;
More he crowed, more we cried;
Nature could not sorrow hide.
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss;
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Prisoner Of War
he waited from night to night
he waited till the son started peeling over the horizon
he waited till he heard the morning birds chirp
he waited for a long time
he waited for his father
his father lost at war
his father he knew since he was born
but as time grew
the boy felt so weary
the boy waited and waited and waited
his mother giving him the same face
the same face when his father left
and the same face when he didn't comeback
but the boy did not notice this
the boy never knew his dad has been lost
but until
until he strayed up one night
a night he would never forget
he saw his father walking about in the streets
his uniform on but he noticed something else
his father had many medals
but he knew nothing of them
all that he cared about was his father was home
the boy waited 10 years
his mother fell asleep in tears
for all those years
but then he finally came home
this poem is dedicated to all POW
poem by Montana Hohensee
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Sephestia's Lullaby
WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe;
Fortune changed made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl-drops from a flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies;
Thus he grieved in every part,
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
The wanton smiled, father wept,
Mother cried, baby leapt;
More he crow'd, more we cried,
Nature could not sorrow hide:
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss,
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene
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The Crys
Crys are various and many-to list, it would go like this: -
The cry of a newborn just come from Heaven
The cry of the mother's joy knowing her child is born well
She holds her child to her breast to let it know that she loves the child
The cry of the father's joy holding the child in his arms
The father kissing the child on its forehead so the child can feel its father
The cry of the wolf in the woods gathering the pack together
The bleat of a mother sheep after giving birth to her child
The cry of a young boy who fell on the ice while ice skating
He had hurt himself quite badly
The cry of a little girl who fell and scraped her knee
Of all the crys in the world these are just a few
April 25,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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I touched my father’s heart
Today
My heart shuddered for
My two month old son, my first born,
Fallen ill…
I touched my father’s heart,
That once throbbed for me,
Down numberless days and nights,
Whenever I fell ill…
Ages ago…
I touched my father’s heart,
That has sailed through
Thrice and more attacks…
That has gathered icebergs
To block the flow…
I touched my father’s heart
When my little first born
Touched his first illness,
And struggled for breath
In the frozen monsoon nights…
At the fringe of ages,
Where every fatherhood meets every sonhood,
My heart touched my father’s heart…
I lived my father’s heart…!
poem by Abhilash Fraizer
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Father & Son
There is the family photograph
That is your father’s face,
There is your father’s father
Grey-gathering years apace;
The son, bright-eyed in the morning,
The father, lined and drawn,
The son became the father
On the day that you were born.
We’ve all set out on the highway
Our fathers wished us well,
The sons became the fathers
In the same distinctive spell;
The road of all beginnings
Is all there is to lend,
But many a twist, and many a turn
Has marred us at the end.
He was my father’s father,
I am my father’s son,
We’ve travelled as far, and farther
Than our father’s years have run;
The twists and turns of fortune
Mean nothing, lost or won,
But the love of a father’s father,
And the love of a father’s son.
3 September 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Don't Wish To Impose
I don't wish to impose
But can I join your family?
You see mine fell apart when my father died
I don't think anyone has noticed
But I have
We didn't meet at Christmas
Was I the only one distressed?
My mother with her new partner
No blame
She doesn't do on her own
But no family gathering?
You, my father's younger brother
I watch you laughing with your daughters
No jealousy
Just a longing for the way things were
Impossible I know
Maybe I could just share you.
You ring, you text, you e-mail
And I am so grateful for the crumbs from your table
The table where my father once sat
He would have loved that we keep in touch.
I look at you closely, looking for my father in your face
I cannot find him there
But you are his brother
The closest I can get
So I comfort myself with our friendship
Your sense of humour
Your memories, your family
Longing for the way things were
Before my family fell apart.
poem by Judith Evans
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Father, Can you see me?
Can You See Me Father?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me through this night?
Father, are you with me?
I look up at the sky, and wonder why, I feel so alone now...
Father, will you help me?
Im afraid to close my eyes.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, if I sleep now, will you be watching over me this night?
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, the world I see is so much larger, than I remember when you were here with me.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, can you help me stand own my own two feet once more?
Father, Im on my knees, looking at the sky, looking for your eyes.
Father, I've lost my way, Lord, I pray for your guidance once more.
Father, what was your will, Lord, it was not mine.
Father, can you hear me?
Father, can you see me?
Father, as I pray for your will, please come and show me the way, dear Lord I pray.
Amen
poem by Rose Rosado
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My Father's Daughters
Are so smart
and, they have
my Father's Heart
When we get together
we really share in love and truth
each one really cares about
the other one too
My Father's Daughters
talk about who they will help next
they talk about who needs support
and who they can protect
My Father's Daughters
like their Dad
tries to get His heart
to let each woman know
that she is a work of art
They want so much
to soothe and heal
my sisters, are so real
They are a team, really
these girls are spiritually pretty
each one unique, each one belongs
each one helps the other one stay strong
And these girls are in the word, they put God first
they're so full of His Love
they let the last one go first
and these Sister's are accountable
to each other
and gossip no way
that's just plain trouble
These Sisters, My Father's Daughters
Are really Beautiful
When we laugh together
no one wants to go
oh No! not my Father's Daughters
poem by Debbie Bennett
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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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A Depressed Bubble
His eyes twinkled,
When water bowled along,
With a heavy heart full of grief he stood there,
Feeling out of sorts.
Thinking what would happen to his mother,
When she'll know he got a D,
Thinking what would happen to his father,
Knowing his son couldn't reach his expectations.
Hearing his father's footsteps the boy ran away,
How would he face his father,
How would he face his mother,
What would he say to them?
Only this that they shouldn't have expected much from him,
Or rather blame himself?
His father called out his name,
He couldn't bare the pain,
It was the third time his hard work had went in vain,
The boy thought of nothing,
And while the father reached,
He was horrified for he saw blood stains on the floor,
And no sign of his child.
Teardrops wetted his clothes,
And all that he cited was,
Did you came to see me,
Or did you wished me to go with just tears in my eyes and blood on my hands.....
Written on 10/20/10
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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Abba, Daddy, Father
Abba, did you smile as you
saw the perfect world you’d just created?
And did you weep when Adam fell
and Eve tumbled after?
Abba, do I have the right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Daddy, did you jump for joy as
you saw your son, born to human parents?
And did you write the Angels words
as Glory shone all around?
Daddy, did the shepherds have the right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Father, did you laugh out loud as
Mary and Joseph searched for their son, and
Found him in the Temple, with you?
Did you allow the telling off that he got?
Father, did you give Mary and Joseph the right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Abba, did your heart break asunder as
the Angels thundered to go and rescue
Your Son from the cross? Did you cry raindrops
when you had to turn your back, because of sin?
Abba, did you deny the Christ the right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Daddy, did the Angels turn and ask
You, why? How did you reply when the words
choked you? Were you waiting to destroy
the world that crucified your Son?
Daddy, did you think about taking away our right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Father, did you yell at Satan, when
he thought he had won? Did you let
him believe it, and then showed him Your Son
by your side? Did Satan fly in rage?
Father, how did you feel, when Satan fell from grace, no longer to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Abba, was it your loud shout that woke the
world on that Easter morn? Was it you who
moved the stone? Did you close the eyes of
the guards, as Glory shone around?
Abba, did you allow Mary the right to call you,
Abba, Daddy, Father?
Daddy, did you smile when you saw
the perfect Son, alive, alive, ALIVE?
And did the Angels party, and are they
partying still? Will it be long before you
come again? And does the earth rest?
Do we have the right to call you, Abba, Daddy, Father?
Father, do you always remember your gifts
and promises to us, yet forget the sins?
Can I feel your arms around me? Am I
blessed by your Son? And, Father, do I
still have the right to call on you? Do I
still have the right to call you Abba, Daddy, Father?
Abba, Daddy, Father, do you rejoice in those
names? Do you look at your children
and remember their names, one by one?
And can I stretch out my hand and get
one to one attention? Abba, Daddy, Father,
that is what I call you, by right, My Abba, My Daddy, My Father.
poem by Steve Gregory
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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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Unlimited
I know You are 'there' My Father.
A countless number of times,
You have answered my prayers.
Even when I had been lost,
And wrapped up in my own discomforts.
I felt Your presence.
I know You are 'there' My Father.
Through challenges and my obstacles faced.
When I stumbled and laid where I fell...
Feeling disgraced.
You held me close.
And Your love I felt so dear!
In You I trust to know my heart and soul.
I know You are 'there' My Father,
I do.
Wherever Thou art I am here,
With You near!
I know You are 'there' My Father.
And everywhere I see and observe,
The magnificent gifts You alone give.
I just wish my mission,
Was as equally as timeless sometimes.
And unlimited.
Even though I know too well,
All the time...
I am already so blessed.
And also grateful to know I can show it,
When I visit You in prayer...
Loyal and devoted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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No father?
i told my father it was so and i got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere i had to go and nothing i had to do
i stand before you father
but you refuse to see
oh father, have you forgotten me?
i kneel before you father
but you do not feel
i am your flesh and same blood
if only you knew
if only i could tell you your an ass
if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through
if only you were around to say good job
as a father you have failed
as a father you were never there
i am ill be gotten history
...no father?
poem by Calvin Jenkins
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Scarring up my Knees
As I sit here by your bedside son I trace the scars on my knees.
My scarred knees is like a GPS to your soul.
You see the very first scar I got for you is the day I found out your mom was going have you.
I fell to my knees and I thank God for blessing me with a child.
The next scar came when you were born.
I fell to my knees with tears in my eyes thanking God for not just blessing me with a child but a son.
The day you took your first step, I got on my knees and asked the Lord as you step to please walk with you.
And son when that stray bullet hit even as you lied there in your blood I fell to my knees and prayed to God saying; “Lord I don’t want him to leave me now but if you his heavenly father is calling him home let him know his earthly father loved every moment we shared.”
Now God did not call you home that day and you still here with me so until you open your eyes I’ll be scarring up my knees.