Like Father Like Son
He was raised in the english way
His daddy taught him respect, he taught him how to pray
They sent him off to boarding school
Where he learned how to live by someone elses rule
And he went to confession
He went to confession
Holy father wash my sins away
He went to confession
He went to confession
Mother mary take the pain away
He read letters from home at night in his bed
And got this uneasy feeling when his father said
Fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
He bought his daddys car and he learned to drive
And when he left school he got a nine to five
He met the girl and he got his spouse
And they had the child and they got the house
And he went to confession
He went to confession
Holy father wash my sins away
He went to confession
He went to confession
Mother mary take the pain away
He loved his son and he helped him build walls and fronts
He knew hed heard it before
Someone had said it once
Fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
He raised his son in the english way
And he taught him respect, he taught him how to pray
He sent him off to boarding school
Where he learned how to live by someone elses rules
And he went to confession
He went to confession
Holy father wash my sins away
He went to confession
He went to confession
Mother mary take the pain away
It must be something much deeper than fear or pain
Another child learns a pattern he wont break the chain
Fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod
Will raise the next boy
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I Confess
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I feel I have a need,
And I please My Father...
With deeds I attempt,
And some not successfully...
My Father decides,
To then surprise.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I pray each day,
And express my gratefulness...
I don't take for granted,
Those blessings from My Father...
I know from Him I get.
When I find I struggle,
And I am wet with sweat...
I am comforted by My Father,
Who then allows...
My peace and rest.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
Before Him I place no 'thing' I value more.
Before My Father,
I profess a love for him that is adored.
My loyalty and devotion,
Is given without thought.
And My Father and I...
Tackle those obstacles,
He assists me to abort.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
And nothing do I have do I take for granted.
I know from 'WHOM' my gifts have come.
I know from 'WHOM' has 'allowed' this to be done!
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Confession
Listen up
This is confession
This machine motion is sure to break my heart
Listen up
This is confession
Recorded music sticks in the throat of god.
I o u, you dont own me
I o u, you dont own me
Party time, one mor night, everybodys affected
Listen up
This is confession
You are a poison that flows into my veins.
Listen up
This is confession
Ive never been so scared of letting you down.
You know me, so come closer
You know me, so come closer
Party time, one more town, everybodys affected.
I know you, you dont need me
I know you, you dont need me
Party time, one more girl, everybodys affected
Listen up
This is confession
They tell me heaven just has to be somewhere
Listen up
This is confession
Id lie to God if I could make him believe.
You owe me, and I need you
You owe me, and I need you
Party time, one more game, everybodys affected
This is my confession
This is my confession
Party time, one more lie, everybodys affected
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True confessions
In my youth I was often told
That confession is good,
good for the soul.
In a darkened wooden booth
I was expected to tell the truth.
First a good act of contrition,
Confession and then absolution
Penance would be meted out
Thus expiation came about.
Nowadays that’s thought
Old fashioned.
My local barkeep
hears my confession.
Of course he grants no absolution,
He pours Absinthe
and shows compassion.
And I may or may not
Tell the truth
While contemplating
The Absolute.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Know There Are Other Kinds Of Poetry
I know there are other kinds of Poetry-
I know for many a confession cannot be a poem-
But for me my confession is my poem
And my writing what I most intensely think and feel
And need to say-
It may not be Poetry for you
And it may not speak to you at all,
I don't want you to waste your time
With what is meaningless for you-
But if the poetry of Confession
And mine in particular
Can be poetry for you,
Thank you for giving my lines
Some time and attention.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Confession of errors is like a broom which sweeps away the dirt and leaves the surface brighter and clearer. I feel stronger for confession.
quote by Mohandas Gandhi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Confessional Box...
there is this boy
who looks like me when i was once a boy like him
who as taught by the priests
of the catholic schools have to be on a regular confession
inside that box where the priests
listens....
(Father i have sinned, i have not gone to confession
for a week and these are my sins...repeat, repeat, repeat,
and the priest, perhaps tired and
bored says...
my little son, say three hail marys, five our fathers, and 2 glory bes
and if you have time
write a poem) .
and so the poems since then were written.
the boy did not stop to live within that confessional box
the priest died
earlier than expected.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Fascination
My confession
I'll steal anything in sight or sound
My confession
This is the sound of fear
And i'll fall down
I don't need it
If you're gonna leave then do it soon
I don't need it
Everything you've ever seen
I've seen before
Leave her to me
Leave her to me
I don't suppose you ever laughed at me
Your fascination leaves me cold
I don't suppose you ever loved at all
I don't need it
I don't need it
If you want it
Every little girl is welcome here
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do It
make your confession alone
before yourself
'in front of a mirror
you man weak
with the will, and the act,
do it
make your confession alone
before yourself
without the priest
put the candle
and beside mirror
even rather small
clean your conscience
more lightly
for you will be
to die...
every your thought
direct
to God
not to people
and stop
already deluding yourself
don't search
at other
consciences
one's you put away
where? I don't know
try to find
make your confession alone
before yourself
in front of a mirror
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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Your Facination (extended Version)
My confession
I'll steal anything in sight or sound
My confession
This is the sound of fear
And I'll fall down
I don't need it
If you're gonna leave then do it soon
I don't need it
Everything you've ever seen
I've seen before
Leave her to me
Leave her to me
I don't suppose you ever laughed at me
Your fascination leaves me cold
I don't suppose you ever loved at all
I don't need it
I don't need it
If you want it
Every little girl is welcome here
GARY NUMAN Keyboards, Vocals
MIKE SMITH Keyboards
TESSA NILES Vocals
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Confession??? -Yun Dong-Ju
파란 녹이 낀 구리 거울 속에
내 얼굴이 남아 있는 것은
어느 왕조(王朝) 의 유물(遺物) 이기에
이다지도 욕될까.
O what shame it is
to see my face still intact
in this rusted-green bronze mirror
What dynasty's heritage this is,
I wonder!
나는 나의 참회(懺悔) 의 글을 한 줄에 줄이자.
― 만 이십 사년(滿 二十 四年일 개월(一個月) 을
무슨 기쁨을 바라 살아 왔던가.
Let me sum up this record of my confession
-24 years and one month of my life
for what joy have I lived?
내일이나 모레나 그 어느 즐거운 날에
나는 또 한 줄의 참회록(懺悔錄) 을 써야 한다.
― 그때 그 젊은 나이에
왜 그런 부끄런 고백을 했던가.
Tomorrow or the day after one of these days
I might have to write another line of confession...
Why did I have to write such a shameful confession
at that young age?
밤이면 밤마다 나의 거울을
손바닥으로 발바닥으로 닦아 보자.
Let me wipe the mirror night after night
with my palm and sole.
그러면 어느 운석(隕石) 밑으로 홀로 걸어가는
슬픈 사람의 뒷모양이
거울 속에 나타나온다.
Then I see a lone sad figure
walking alone under a meteorite
in this mirror
< 시집, ‘하늘과 바람과 별과 시' (1948) >
poem by Sangnam Nam
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Walking Into You
Tonight
the nectar will be spread
to tame a random tormentor.
Black and white,
I never saw my father weeping.
Lonely he was.
I am
my own creation today
weather beaten. Confession to -
confession, unread. When the-
storm was tethered,
there was flooding and neck deep-
you were in tears. Am cannibalizing
my own poems, to write a new line.
It was a midnight moon.
poem by Satish Verma
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Letter to a Secret Lover
Dear,
Do I say my love?
There is a vacuum in my heart
You this, should offend not,
My heart is void,
Your heart it seeks
Do I say my love?
This I fear, might go for ruin
Let it not, a confession it is
A heart within, that boils,
A heart, the cool of your soul
It needs,
It craves,
Enslaved is me,
Dear,
Call me to freedom
Hope, you, it wouldn't hurt
Should your heart be locked,
Know a heart, a soul
Under the stars
Had cared, had loved.
And
My chest, it pricked
It did, the cupid,
Cry not, the brittle one,
Naïve heart,
A confession it is.
A power beyond!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Hate Stinger
For all of time we had a man
Who had a frozen heart
Hes standig on a hill
And sees the morning come
Fear and rage - destruction
He made a world of pain
Hate and sin - confession
He craved a senseless crime
cause hes a sane killer - he takes you by surprise
Hes a sane killer - stares into your eyes
Hes a hate stinger - nothing left to chance
Hes a sane killer - and hes the last to dance
Just in time he finds the way
To do without the lies
Its time to bruise and maim
Stripped of all disguise
Fear and rage - destruction
No warning or a sign
Hate and sin - confession
Hes deadly from behind
cause hes a sane killer - he takes you by surprise
Hes a sane killer - stares into your eyes
Hes a hate stinger - nothing left to chance
Hes a sane killer - and hes the last to dance
The devil rings - we pay the rent
The cruellest cut of all
We built the road he travelled on
The lessons come to call
So look for signs behind the eyes
Destructor of us all
Stands alone deathly still
The stealer has arrived
Fear and rage - destruction
He made a world of pain
Hate and sin - confession
He craved a senseless crime
cause hes a sane killer - he takes you by surprise
Hes a sane killer - stares into your eyes
Hes a hate stinger - nothing left to chance
Hes a sane killer - and hes the last to dance
cause hes a sane killer - he takes you by surprise
Hes a sane killer - stares into your eyes
Hes a hate stinger - nothing left to chance
Hes a sane killer - and hes the last to dance
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wetness
Keeping it a thought you detest...
Is a kept confession,
You love wetness.
You're no different than the rest.
Those who undress quick,
For sex and wetness.
Denying heat wont make it go away.
Saying something different,
Is in conflict with your mission.
Keeping it a thought you detest...
Is a kept confession,
You love wetness.
You're no different than the rest.
Those who undress quick,
For sex and wetness.
Lie about it!
Try to hide those naked wishes in your mind.
Deny and fight it.
But you know fresh meat is what you want to find.
To bump and grind as you're sighing.
Keeping it a thought you detest...
Is a kept confession,
You love wetness.
You're no different than the rest.
Those who undress quick,
For sex and wetness.
You despair for nakedness and wetness.
You want it there,
Some sex and wetness.
Keeping you uptight at night,
And restless.
Ooooohhhyeah...
Keeping it a thought you detest...
Is a kept confession,
You love wetness.
You're no different than the rest.
Those who undress quick,
For sex and wetness.
mmmmm...
That sex and wetness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no refuge from confession but suicide; and suicide is confession.
quote by Daniel Webster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Poems Are My Confession
MY POEMS ARE MY CONFESSION
My poems are my confession
No one else need read -
And yet without their readers
What can my poems mean?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Mama
I was raised on the west side shanty town.
I didn't get up till the sun went down.
When your back's against the wall, you better get tough,
An' learn real quick how to swing an' duck.'
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
Sweet Mama didn't raise no fool,.
That's right.
Some folks cheat 'n some folks lie,
But I can judge a man by the look in his eye.
Don't hand me jack, try to call it cool.
I know the difference 'tween sh*t an' shiner.
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
Sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
Instrumental Break.
Talkin' about Mama,
Oh sweet Mama.
Mama was no angel, but she taught me right from wrong.
She knew ev'ry single word, an' ev'ry note, and ev'ry song.
She taught me how to gamble and how to roll a dice.
"If it makes you feel good, do a darn thing twice."
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
My sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
I was born in the suite all for the sunshine,
Good lookin' women, back woods an' moonshine.
Learned more about life on the streets than in the school.
My sweet Mama didn't raise no fool.
Yeeow!
Talkin' about:
(My sweet Mama,)
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
Na, na, na.
(Talkin' about my sweet Mama,
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
That's my sweet Mama.
(Talkin' about my sweet Mama,
(Mama didn't raise no fool.)
Oh, sweet Mama.
song performed by by Van Zant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Headmaster
Headmaster, this is my confession.
This time you wont be overjoyed,
I have destroyed what little faith you had in me,
Ive been such a naughty boy.
Headmaster I am at your mercy,
Ive been such a little fool.
Ive dishonored one who trusted me,
I have broken all the rules.
Ive been with those naughty little girls again,
Now those naughty little girls are going to put me to shame.
I wish that Id been born with a little more sense,
This time its a serious offense.
I feel like an innocent victim,
I feel that I just cant win.
Headmaster please give me one chance,
Please help me to act like a man.
Ive let down the school,
Ive broken all the rules,
Ive let down the side,
Ive committed a crime.
Headmaster, this is my confession,
Ive been such a little fool.
Ive dishonored one who trusted me,
I have broken all the rules.
Ive been such a little fool.
Dont tell all my friends I bent over,
Dont tell them you made me cry.
Dont tell them Ive been sacrificed,
Dont tell all my friends or Ill die.
Headmaster dont beat me I beg you,
I know that Ive let you down.
Headmaster please spare me I beg you,
Dont make me take my trousers down.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Critical Mass
No confession?
Mental anguish you will possess.
No lessons learned?
The worse for you,
It is going to get.
No relief from your beliefs,
Is going to release you to forget!
A critical mass is upon you now...
Results of it will test.
Your point of view has been subjective.
To feed a greed and hoard.
Your motivation inspired one objective.
And with deceit...
Your own defeat,
Comes with an approval to complete!
And you are the main one...
That will not be ignored.
No confession?
Mental anguish you will possess.
No lessons learned?
The worse for you,
It is going to get.
The pain of it brings much regret!
And you are not alone!
That you can bet!
A collection of waste...
You tasted with acceptance.
And now may bitter your tongue.
But your bitterness inflicted,
Was not welcomed by anyone!
This delivery is just for you...
Without a need for your circumspect.
Disfavor?
Or denials applied,
To attempt rejection!
That which comes leaves nothing left.
All of it...is yours.
All of it,
At your doorstep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Poetry Of Confession
THE POETRY OF CONFESSION
The poetry of confession -
The poetry of self- indulgence-
The poetry of the ‘wretch con-centered all in self’-
The poetry of moods and feelings-
Of all ideas only as they relate to the poet himself-
The poetry of desperation-
The poetry of need-
The poetry of urgency -
And serving the poet first-
Not enough of the world
Not enough of others- of other perspectives
Not formal and disciplined enough-
The poetry which is not crafted and polished
The poetry in which the need of the poet
Is more central than the quality of the poetry –
The poetry which may be too selfish to be good-
Whose moral failure makes more prominent its aesthetic flaws-
The poetry which is not so good
And not great
But quite banal and commonplace –
A poet can give his life to his poetry
And that still be nothing at all-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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