Mothers And Their Daughters
they struck him down hard early in life
he slaps me around plenty
i cannot leave
my daughter never cries
to feed my daughter
i will take on the whole lot of you
the young men howl
i am a mother in time of famine
my daughter dying at my breast
my husband wants a son
my first child a love child a daughter
a wedding to make it right
a family joke to keep me honest
they have a one child policy here
he took my first child my daughter
sold her to the americans
as a child they mutilated me
for fear i might become the woman i am
they will never get to my daughter
I am told to hate my burqa
it keeps my secret from him
my daughter will wear the burqa
poem by Paul Bamberger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Grandma monkey loves
Monkey grandma loves
Child of her daughter more
Than child of her son
In morning dew
She carries child of daughter
Up her back and child of son
Down her belly to shake off dew
In noon sun heat
She turn child of daughter
Down her belly and child of son
Up her back to be beat by hot sun
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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A Daughter Cries
when a mother cries
her tears stab at her daughter's heart
as they plummet to the floor
when a mother cries
he daughter cries too
because her heroine is wounded and she doesn't know how or why
she cries because she cannot rid her mother of the pain
she cries most of all because she loves her mother
when a daughtrr cries because her mother cries,
her mother cries more
because her weakness has hurt her child
she cries because it hurts to know she's the cause of her daughter's tears.
she cries most of all because she loves her daughter
one the tears have ceased however
love remains
the love forever shared between a mother and her daughter
poem by Portia Lane
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Song: XI
Mother, mother, do you not hear?
Mother, they come; there is news to tell!
– Give me your hands, my daughter dear:
'Tis but a ship that saileth well.
Mother dear, have a care, give heed!
–They go, my daughter, away they speed.
Mother, the danger is sore, alas!
– Child, my child, it will quickly pass.
Mother, mother, She draweth near!
– It is down in the harbour, daughter dear.
Mother, mother, She opens the door!
– Child, they go, to return no more.
Mother, She enters! I am afraid!
– Child, they now have the anchor weighed.
Mother, I hear Her speaking low.
– Child, my child, it is they that go.
Mother, She makes the stars go dark!
– Child, 'tis the sails of a shadowy bark.
Mother, She knocks at the casement still!
– Child, maybe it is fastened ill. . . .
Mother, mother, my sight grows dim. . . .
– Child, they sail for the open sea.
On every hand I can hear but Him. . . .
– O child, what is it, and who is He?
poem by Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck
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Intricacy of relation
You love your child;
It is equal that
You have loved its mother.
You love your grandchild;
It is equal that
You have loved your child.
You ignore your daughter.
Her husband will take care.
If you spurn the daughter-in-law
You lean away from your son.
If you side the daughter-in-law
You slide from your wife.
If you speak well of your boss
Your husband goes uneasy.
How of intricacy
Human relationship is!
How it pushes us
To be hypocrite!
06.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How do you build a relationship when you've hardly shared a word but suddenly share a child? How do you love a daughter you don't see for nearly two years? When does she become your daughter? How does she become your daughter?
quote by Boris Becker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When A Mother Cries
When a mother cries,
Her tears stab at her daughter’s heart
As they plummet to the floor
When a mother cries
Her daughter cries too
She cries because she does not know what is wrong
She cries because she can’t get rid of her mother’s pain
She cries most of all because she loves her mother
When a daughter cries because her mother cries
Her mother cries more
She cries because her pain has hurt her daughter
She cries because she does not want to see her daughter cry because of her
She cries most of all,
Because she loves her daughter
Once the tears have ceased however,
What remains is love
The love forever shared between a mother and a daughter
poem by Portia Lane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shadow-Child
Why do the wheels go whirring round,
Mother, mother?
Oh, mother, are they giants bound,
And will they growl forever?
Yes, fiery giants underground,
Daughter, little daughter,
Forever turn the wheels around,
And rumble-grumble ever.
Why do I pick the threads all day,
Mother, mother,
While sunshine children are at play?
And must I work forever?
Yes, shadow-child; the live-long day,
Daughter, little daughter,
Your hands must pick the threads away,
And feel the sunshine never.
Why do the birds sing in the sun,
Mother, mother,
If all day long I run and run,
Run with the wheels forever?
The birds may sing till day is done,
Daughter, little daughter,
But with the- wheels your feet must run—
Run with the wheels forever.
Why do I feel so tired each night,
Mother, mother?
The wheels are always buzzing bright;
Do they grow sleepy never?
Oh, baby thing, so soft and white,
Daughter, little daughter,
The big wheels grind us in their might,
And they will grind forever.
And is the white thread never spun,
Mother, mother?
And is the white cloth never done,
For you and me done never?
Oh yes, our thread will all be spun,
Daughter, little daughter,
When we lie down out in the sun,
And work no more forever.
And when will come that happy day,
Mother, mother?
Oh, shall we laugh and sing and play
Out in the sun forever?
Nay, shadow-child, we'll rest all day,
Daughter, little daughter,
Where green grass grows and roses gay,
There in the sun forever.
poem by Harriet Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson
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What A Pleasant Time
What a pleasant time
With my daughter and granddaughter-
How a small child brings such happiness-
Every small change in expression
Is new delight-
How blessed I am
That God has given to my daughter and her husband
Such a good natured happy child.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Mother Does Not
A mother does not raise her child for to fight and die in war
Or to kill another Human Being in a Country from home far
That her son or her daughter should at someone else shoot to kill
A person they have never known or who have never bore them ill.
Picasso's 'Screaming Woman' is for all woman kind
The mother weeps for her dead child with grief 'out of her mind'
Mothers do not raise their children for to be remembered on War Memorial Day
For to fight in war for war mongering non combatants and throw their lives away
A mother raises her son or daughter so her seed of life will live on
That her genes will still be around when she herself has gone
From the World of the living to be numbered amongst the dead
I wish for my children to outlive me that's what the mother said.
A mother does not raise her child for to meet with an early death
Not for her War Memorial Day or the words 'Lest we forget'
She wants her son and daughter for to grow old and gray
And she does not wish to hear of War and War Memorial Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Love is unequal to bequeath
Son, your mother can love you
In a way no one can excel.
Her love for your child limits
As it, another lady mothered.
Daughter, your father can love you
In a way no one can excel.
His love for your child limits
As it, another man fathered.
Woman loves daughter’s child.
Man loves son’s child.
20.04.2001 Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Father You a Daughter
Sweetie, you know you are all I want in a mate,
Every time that I had ever needed in a lady;
No other can compare to your mystique so great,
So I want you to have my very next baby.
Bear my child, sweetheart...
Your beauty, strength, your grace, and intellect,
Brilliance beyond anyone I have ever known;
The spirit you have inspires me to pay respect
Every good woman and I want raise one of my own.
Bear my child, sweetheart...
Let me father you a daughter,
Knock you up and make us a baby girl;
Let me father you a daughter,
Go every night to bring her to the world.
I cannot resist you,
So bear my daughter, boo.
This child will be our legacy, but another you,
With your very enticing smile, sexy eyes;
I cannot wait to go all night making love to you
For a baby, sharing your joy between your thighs.
Carry my seed, baby...
Never will I part from you, keep it in overnight,
Ready to accept the amazing paternity of two;
A daughter with your way of thinking and life,
If tomorrow ends tonight, I must impregnate you.
Carry my seed, baby...
Let me father you a daughter,
Knock you up and make us a baby girl;
Let me father you a daughter,
Go every night to bring her to the world.
I cannot resist you,
So bear my daughter, boo.
They say the man must do all the work
If we really want to have a pretty little princess;
Baby, just lay back and let me work
Starting with your mind to all five senses.
Knock you up, sweetie...
Passion marks over spots I already licked,
Kisses trace each place my fingertips ran;
Battlefield Bedroom is the place to get some...
If love is war, then I will declare it much as I can.
Knock you up, sweetie...
Let me father you a daughter,
Knock you up and make us a baby girl;
Let me father you a daughter,
Go every night to bring her to the world.
I cannot resist you,
So bear my daughter, boo.
Bear my child, carry my seed, baby
To not knock you up would be crazy;
Such a dream of mine come true,
And I long to savor moments with you.
By far the finest from sole to crown,
I truly love to please you up and down;
To have you walking around with my child,
Makes the obstacles we faced worthwhile.
Let me father you a daughter,
Knock you up and make us a baby girl;
Let me father you a daughter,
Go every night to bring her to the world.
I cannot resist you,
So bear my daughter, boo.
poem by Sr. Lamar Ingraham
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The Old Woman And Her Loyal Maid
the old woman is very rich
she has two children, a lovely daughter and a very naughty son
the lovely daughter dislikes her
and the naughty son wants to kill her
she slaps her often and the more the daughter wants to go away from her
the son is disturbed and furious because he did not know his father enough
the daughter married a gentle man
and the son went away with no know address no known destination
he never came back
while she lives her own life away from the rich woman
the old woman has a loyal maid
who has no memory of humiliating words that the old woman more often
inflicts in her person
the old woman is dying
but the son and daughter have no respect anymore for such word
as mother.
meanwhile the loyal maid keeps swallowing the pesters of the old woman
expecting a part of the wealth
as her pay and legacy
well, this story cannot have an ending yet
the old woman is still alive and the son and daughter are still making up
their minds
what to do next.
Life is a comma. The ending always waits
for something that will be a happy one.
But who knows, except this one, something tragic may happen
at the end. Who knows?
I will for sure.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mother and Daughter Love
Mother and daughter love can be so fun...
A mother should love her daughter at all time
A mother have connection with her daughter
A daughter should love there mother with in and with out
A daughter should talk to her about anything with each other
A mother and daughter should love each other
That what some people call mother and daughter love.....
poem by Valentine White
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Daughter Of Darkness
Woman, I can remember a woman
Warm were her kisses and tender was she lying there in my arms
Why
Why, did you deceive me so?
What devil inside made you go when I needed you most of all-ll
Oh daughter of darkness
Stay out of my life, my life
You took my heart and broke it apart, you daughter of darkness
Daughter of darkness
Please, leave me alone forever
Daughter of darkness, gone is the love that we shared together
Heaven, we had our own kind of heaven
Sharing together the magic of love in a world of our own
Then oh so suddenly you were gone
The love I depended upon disappeared when you werent away-ay
Oh daughter of darkness
Stay out of my life, my life
You took my heart and broke it apart, you daughter of darkness
Daughter of darkness
Please, leave me alone forever
Oh devil daughter of darkness, gone is the love that we shared together
Oh daughter of darkness
Stay out of my life, my life
You took my heart and broke it apart, you daughter of darkness
Oh daughter of darkness
Stay out of my life, my life
You took my heart and broke it apart, you daughter of darkness
Daughter of darkness
Please, leave me alone forever
Oh devil daughter of darkness, gone is the love that we shared together
[fade]
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intervals
I held my daughter to my breast
And now her sleeping child there rests
Daughter, granddaughter
I am twice blest.
poem by Sharon FottaAnderson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Daughter Moments
My daughter said something the other day
We were sitting on the front steps, talking
Someone wanted to enter the building, she stood up and said 'we're just having a father daughter moment'
My daughter is still young, only 27
And hearing her say that, my heart swelled with pride
She still wants to have moments with her father
My adult daughter still needed me
So much is said about the mother-daughter bond
But there's an even stronger bond between a father and a daughter
No matter how old she is, she's still daddy's little girl
And he always wants to be there for her
Father daughter moments last a lifetime
From playground accidents to a broken heart
You do your best to help her pain go away
Because when she's in pain, you are too
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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Why Can't That Be Me
Why can't that be me, the daughter
you come home to
Loving me all the time, and saying I miss you
Why can't that be me, the daughter you call everyday
The daughter that you miss so much, that she takes your breath away
Why can't that be me, the daughter that makes you cry
The one that touches your soul, everytime she says goodbye
Why can't that be us, daughter to father
Without you in my life, everyday it gets harder
poem by Jasmine Dugas
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Interpretation of a story
Day in day out
in repetition
the life's game
we are caught.
Surrounded by walls
the only thing
to cling
is Love.
Here and then
a wake up call
new born or death
comes on the way..
A daughter dies
'Will I see you again? '
asks her mother
But she cannot be heard.
All that a mother
thinks about
is how to keep
The daughter's life.
So hard she tries,
fights everything
the wind, and many gods,
But all in vain, she failed..
At last she has to let
sweet soul to go away
Yet first she eats tiny bits
of memories.
Only to keep
the child's gifts
SWEET LOVE..
Daughter leaves but love
Forever to remain.
Then life could,
can, shall
Start again
Another happiness..
A happy child
And a happier mother.
Day in day out
in repetition,
life's game
we are caught...
Good luck to all my dear C.D. friends, a week from now we shall joy playing it at Concarino.Doki doki(*_*)
poem by Elena Sandu
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Poetmother In Rags At The Doors Of Ikea
My daughter lives in there.
There's no way I could stay:
Look at what I'm wearing,
Even though I gave my daughter.
You see all my sin.
No way could I fit in.
But still,
I have given daughter,
So stand aside!
I will not be denied
A little look inside
What I've given daughter.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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