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Funny Daughter Poems | Funny Poems About Daughter

These Funny Daughter poems are examples of Funny poems about Daughter. These are the best examples of Funny Daughter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Limerick | |

Princess Needs A New Car

Princess just wants a new car.
I have told her that hers will go far.
'Oh, it's really not cool
driving this crap to school.'
'Do I need that emotional scar? '

'The kids will all laugh at the rust.
When we race, I'll be left in the dust! 
I will save up some cash
then we'll make a mad dash
to the car dealer surely you trust'.

'He will make us a wonderful deal
and I'm sure you will know how I feel.
I will love you so much, 
My siblings... I won't touch.
Just get me behind a new wheel'! 

Now she'll be cruisin in style.
She'll be happy for only awhile.
There will always be better
and we'll try hard to get her
a car that will make princess smile.

Copyright © Mary Nagy

Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again


Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | I do not know? | |


I never wanted it to be this way, I never wanted to feel the pain. Bruises all over me. 
Invisible but I can see them.

You hurt me everywhere. My heart is shattered and the blood has frozen. But I won't be 
your victim.

Stare at me like this all you want. Try and hurt me with your words just as long as you 
don't use fists.

I don't ever want to be your victim. I refuse to be one of those few girls who end up 
losing their whole world.

Love isn't supposed to hurt, but maybe I was just naive because the moment I loved you my 
heart never stopped bleeding. 

I won't be your victim, I won't run away. If you have something to say I won't avoid it. 
I'm not scared I can take whatever you try to throw.

Don't hold back I promise you I will not cry. The moon is shining just like all the 
diamonds that you called pretend love I can't even imagine why I fell so hard.

It's never clear until the glass of water is gone. But now that you've gulped me to the 
last I want you to know I won't be your victim.

I kissed vulnerability goodbye the very last time I cried over you and I won't be your 
victim your not even worth it.

If you feel like you must shove a door in my butt but don't make me afraid because I 
don't want to be I don't want to be your victim. 

Let go of my hand so I can peacefully drive away if you want me to I can drive over you 
as well. But don't make it seem like i'm causing you pain because it's obvious to see 
that I've been a victim and it's a shame.

But I don't want to be it anymore then you so just let me go and I won't have to run. I 
promised you forever I laugh at this now you were never eternity love in my mind.

 I kept counting until the madness in ourselves would corrupt. Tears flash down my eyes 
as I speed down the lanes. Two bottles of Gin and I think i'm going insane.

It wasn't until I crashed into a tree that I realized I was never your victim I was 
merely your suicide mission. 

Copyright © Shahana Jackson

Details | Rhyme | |


Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.

Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.

Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.

Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.

Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?

Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.

The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.

The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.

Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.

Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.

Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.

Copyright © Kelly Zakerski

Details | Verse | |

Mum's Advice Ignored - "Don't Talk to Strangers!"

When I was young, an urban lass, and not gregarious,
I’d never dream of speaking to a stranger on a bus.

I’d sit, demure, my eyes downcast, and hope quite desperately
That none of those weird passengers would try accosting me.

But, now I’m “fair and forty” (ish!) I’m bolder, and what’s more,
I’ve lived so long in Somerset I’d clean forgot mum’s law …

Until I went to London town to see my student daughter;
She lectured me for doing what I really didn’t oughta!

“You shouldn’t, mum! It isn’t safe!” she cried, in some alarm.
“Some folk round here are really strange. you might have come to harm!”

I’m sorry I upset her, but  I carried on regardless.
I found most folks in London are quite friendly … even harmless.

Oh! I do love London Transport, and its camaraderie!
I had such fun, and lots of laughs and all completely free (!)

But now I’m home, I realise …
That weirdo, then,
Was me!!

Copyright © Frances King

Details | Verse | |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Copyright © Katrina Salem

Details | Free verse | |


.                                       Cutting off its top
                                        inside the flesh so fresh
                                        and easy to scoop out
                                        art hides intentions
                                        for the model's on my mind
                                        depicting her face
                                        her scowl, monstrous frown

                                        "my daughter needs..."
                                        "my daughter deserves..."

                                        Onto the outside surface
                                        and enjoying my thoughts
                                        sharp knife to hollow 
                                        out the gourd, the pulp
                                        oh! dexterous spoon
                                        Madness shines in its design 
                                        Trick...trick...not treating

                                        "If my daughter would have thought..."
                                        "If my daughter had listened to me..."

                                        Her scornful smile, her last
                                        of orange teeth, putrid breath
                                        As the natural
                                        empty and scary
                                        At night a light will be placed 
                                        inside...deep... to illuminate 
                                        or perhaps an ardent candle 
                                        to burn from within
                                        I still listen to her
                                        pumpkin voice

                                        "What is he doing instead of..."

                                        And I smile like Jack...

It's just fictional! Mine is my second Mom. : ) She better be... : )

Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Free verse | |

Pure Love and Holy Cow!

Teeny tiny tornado....

Indestructible force
Pretty fits of laughter....
She shreds the house to pieces…

I thought I cleaned that!

As I wander behind her
     Like a lunatic
picking up the rubbish
that she scatters 
       with such glee

A gleam of mischievous
    in her blue eyes….

“I need sleep!” 
I think
“Come back here!”
        I yell…
As she tears through
     the house
Wind of wild child
and fits of happy
a universe of little 
A cosmic egg of love
     She bounds 
          a free spirit
and innocent....

So Beautiful her soul
So pure her heart
     Just look...
she is so perfect
when shes sleeping...

Holy Cow!
So destructive to my home!
Who would have known
Someone so small 
could wreck such havoc
on a house and a heart?

“What is that?!" 
"Did you pull that
from the toilet?!”
Yep, she did!

Have I mentioned 
I need sleep?

My precious
Teeny Tiny Tornado....

Copyright © Christie Moses

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Boot-Legged Mama '

Mama and Daddy was always Love-Dovey
She is His Sweetheart – He is Her Honey
First Love… Real Love  -  Forever True
Pa… I Pray to find A Man Like You…

Daddy Laughed and Put His Arm Round My Shoulder
And Said, “I’ll Tell You Somethin’, Now You’re Older
It’s got to do with Your Mother’s Fame
And Why I gave Her, The Nickname…

               … Boot-Legged Mama

                  Boot-Legged Mama
Blue-jean Shorts and Vintage Tony Lama
Walked thru the Door… of A Liquor Store
… Packaged so Pretty… Pa Just had to Pour

               … Boot-Legged Mama

Ma… Was there, to get 6-packs for A Party…
Pa… Was there, ‘cause of a Taste for Bacardi
He took One Look and Knew He Couldn’t Waste Her
Pa… Gave-up ‘Drank’… Just so He Could Chase her !

Dad, Said, ‘He’d Drowned in Dark-Eyes and Sweet-Aroma
Fine-Wine, Crystal… But Tuff’ Nuff’ to Down-Drama
Pa Claims, Mama’s Labeled by the F.D.A.
And Listed on Her Driver’s License is,  A.K.A.  …

               … Boot-Legged Mama

                  Boot-Legged Mama
 Genuine Woman, Who Made Him Wanna’
Take Her to be His Lawful Moonshine
… Married at Midnight – ‘cross The County-Line

               … Boot-Legged Mama

Alcohol’s in Trauma;  and Prohibition Told Her:
"Boot-Legged Mama… Done Drove Pa Sober !"
Now, Homemade-Hooch… is His Acquired Taste
180 Proof… Kicked All Over His Case !

Right Then, Mama Flowed into The Room
Pa, Teased and Said, “Still Full-Bodied and Perfumed !
Ma Hugged Us, then Handed Me – Old Boots and A Dress…
    (and good advice)… “Go Git’ My Elliot Ness…

               … and be a Boot-Legged Mama!

( Hey !... Did I Hear Somebody, In A Country Drawl ….
          Order Up A Bottle of Kicking Alcohol !
         Well, Here She Is… Y'all ! ...
                  Boot-Legged Mama ….

Well John (Moses) Freeman... You Said You Needed
Somethin' :)  to Read tonight, before kicking up your
heels...  Well, Here It Is (Have Fun - Son)


 (Thank You For All Your Wonderful Comments
Now, I Can't Get Thru The Door for My Ego.. (Smile)

Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | I do not know? | |

Ava's Night

My little girl, she could not sleep
so toss and turn, she pulled the sheets
and, ba ba black sheep safe in tow
to our dark room she chose to go
A creak of the door and then there she was
she wanted to sleep with us because
she heard a noise, she was too hot,
she tried to sleep but she could not
I hauled her up to our bed at three
before too long she was fast asleep
but I, on the other hand, was wide awake
for, someone did my pillow take
and someone elbowed me all night
and had the blanket pulled too tight
Someone’s hand flopped on my head
(I wished we had a king size bed)
By six I finally gave in and rose
eyes swollen tired and stuffy nose
hair looking like I had lost the war
all out of coffee so I went to the store
and when I got back, when asked how she slept
my little girl sighed, and said “good, except...
I thought I would sleep all snugly and tight
but MOMMA bug kept me UP ALL NIGHT!!!!”

Copyright © Tatyana Carney

Details | Free verse | |

Those Were The Days

                                     Rebuilding America 
                                     My little Jenny and me
                                     Remembering a time
                                     When Laurel And Hardy
                                     Brought such classics to T.V
                                     My Jenny asked mom can you see me
                                     Just cruising home in a big jelopy
                                     With my Feathered Friend Buddy
                                     Perched on my shoulder and you Yelling
                                     Smile Your On Candid Camera
                                     That had to be such a Jungle Fever back then
                                     Think  I liked it better When you used to sing to me
                                                 That  I'm A Big Girl Now 

Just Putzing Around here
with my last 10 poems
But Love to watch 
Old Classic comedies on T.V. with Jenny
And Trying To explain  to her about Cinema

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |


Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!

Copyright © Smail Poems

Details | Couplet | |


There sits my bonnie girl, frilly, lacy, all pink and pretty She boasts of an enviable collection of cute stuff - all Hello Kitty! A pearly, stone-studded shiny pink Kitty bracelet With matching rings and hair clips to tame her silky ringlets, A stylish pair of pink comfy kitty flip-flops To go with her smooth stretchy night wear tops! A sassy little Hello Kitty cross-sling bag she wears Pairing up with chic pink-framed kitty glares, Kitty pencils, erasers and rulers in a well-stocked tuck box Her fancy kitty pouches and folders she invariably locks! A multi-compartment kitty wallet to hoard her loose change All geared for summer with her Hello kitty swimming range, A glittery Kitty lunch box to pack her school snack As she sets off with her pink kitty back pack, Water tastes better in a kitty sippy water-bottle Pink all the way, for nothing else she'll settle! She'd paint the world kitty pink, if the choice is hers Well, I wouldn't be surprised if one fine day she purrs!! 19th Jan 2013

Copyright © Yesha Shah

Details | Rhyme | |

The Right Thing to Do

Written 7 March 2014

Bruce and Jennie, both were 10,
Had been playmates all their lives.
One day, Bruce proclaimed,
“Jennie… most good men have wives.”

He professed his love for her.
Jennie said she loved him too.
They decided that getting married
Was ‘the right thing’  to do.

So, Bruce went to speak to her father,
Who was doing yard work at the time.
“May I speak to you, Mr. Johnson?”
“Sure, Bruce. What’s on your mind?”

“Sir, I love your Jennie;
And Jennie, she loves me;
But we need your permission
To be married… to be “We.”

Impressed by Bruce’s courage,
He knew this confrontation must be tough.
He smiled and asked, “Bruce, are you sure
You love my daughter enough?”

Bruce’s face became stern, he said,
“Mr. Johnson, let me tell you…
I love Jennie so much…and she loves me.
We’re both sure it’s the right thing to do.”

He was moved by Bruce’s ardor,
But permission was not his to give.
So, quick as flash, he responded,
“But Bruce…where will you live?” 

“Sir, I measured her room;
Then I measured mine.
Hers is 40 percent bigger.
We’ll live there.  We’ll be fine.

If we have extra stuff,
We’ll keep that in my room.
We’ll keep our places neat and tidy.
You won’t even need a broom.

And both our parents can save money 
On babysitters too.
Even if you do things on the same night,
You’ll only need one sitter, not two.”

Mr. Johnson was impressed with his logic,
But this marriage idea was no longer funny.
He smiled and said, “That’s good thinking, Bruce;
But what are you gonna do for money?

“Why, Mr. Johnson, I get twelve-fifty a week allowance;
And let me remind you, Jennie also gets ten.
Throw in our birthdays and Christmas cash….
Why, we might even have money to lend.”

Desperate now, he thought, 
“Next, I guess they’ll want a car.”
Then he asked, “But Bruce, what if you have kids?”
"Aawww," blushed Bruce... “We’ve been lucky so far.”

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Ballad | |

Rubber Duckie

Rubber duckie you're the one
You're the reason I'm the one
Rubber duckie
You're the one for me

Copyright © Eve Anderson

Details | Senryu | |

Quit Running

mom say's
quit running !!!!

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Narrative | |

- I Do Not Want Eggs - Do Not Like Eggs -


                        Little Laila was on overnight visits to Grandma
                   Early in the morning Grandma made Sunday breakfast
                     Little Laila came into the kitchen where the smell of
                freshly cooked coffee, freshly baked bread....and "boiled egg"
                  Little Laila does not like eggs....and says to her Grandma
                             "I do not want eggs - do not like eggs"
                                But Grandma had not boiled eggs
                             she had farted and it smelled like eggs
                                     Grandma got a good laugh
                              And I hope you will laugh at this too.... :)

True story
Anne-Lise Andresen :)

Copyright © All Rights Reserved

(5th in the contest)

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Haiku | |

Dancing Angels

Angels in heaven
Dancing on a small puddle
Always stay afloat

Copyright © Payne Poet

Details | Epitaph | |

Silly Epitaph 5

As a baby, an angel;
In youth, a bother
When she turned eighteen
She forgot what we taught her.
That is why
We now lay her to rest.
In retrospect;
It's for the best.

Copyright © Tara Andre

Details | Limerick | |

Best School Play Ever

I cannot afford to miss
A school play such as this.
My son plays a big tall tree.
My daughter plays a bumble bee.
At the end a pig and a hippo kiss.

Copyright © Jerry Stevenson

Details | List | |

Rules in the eyes of a toddler

If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, stepped on or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a car seat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, must make her dirty
If it is sibling, must slap,kick,and fight.
If it has four legs, must squeeze tight until makes noise
If big person is on phone, must make lots of noise
If tv is not on cartoons, scream until they are
If food is not good, throw it, refuse to eat it and cry until big people give you something good

Copyright © mandy cabral

Details | Verse | |

Family Dinner

Everyone is dressed just right,

with our smiles slapped on tight,

we are having a family dinner.

The mood is tense,

yet we have to make sense,

and we can always talk about the weather.


We blow kisses and show our love,

everything is just right.

We shower praises over each other,

and pray that the night is over without a flight.


Ignore the bitter-in-law,

she needs some sugar.

She vowed to deny herself happiness,

since she lost her lover.


Pay attention to the chatty uncle.

He claims to be rich although he eats like a savage.

just nod your head and seem interested,

and hope the topic does not turn to marriage.


Sit away from the young brother,

once an answer to his question, he is on to another.

To the old man he asks,"So what do you do?"

and to the orphan child,"Where is your mother?"


The room is beautiful, the food is delicious,

a night with our near and dear.

This could well be the perfect family dinner,

but only the flowers in the room seem real.

Copyright © Karan Patade

Details | Choka | |

The Bulldog's Car Wars

She and vehicles,
Adversaries forever,
No quarter given
And none asked on either side.
The metal beasts smell money,
Wound themselves to devour it.

It doesn't matter
How she tries to hide her cash -
Spitefully they sniff it out
And die gleefully,
Knowing she must resurrect
Their thankless, thieving thick hides.

O you willful ones,
You steelclad dromedaries,
Do you think you can defeat
The Mighty Bulldog?
She never wants Will - just Ways.
Once found - you're dispensible.

Copyright © William Masonis

Details | Ballade | |

An Ellice Island - In search of KindRed Soul

Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of 
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul 
at this season.

Equatorial island exploring its amazed 
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake 
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted 
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around 
charming moon.
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next 

Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my 
auspicious goal.
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma 
upcoming meet.

Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled 
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of 
romantic dictionary.
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.

At event of recreation, campfire were 
Nobody around us, private moments 
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again 
Hand in hand danced with the soothing 
romantic theme,
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her 
fragranced cream.
Expecting the light around us to be dim.

The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand 
She looked too pretty in her gold lame 
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are 
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!

Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.

Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white 
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel 
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout 
life in this lovely weather.

Will be your shadow, because your pain 
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a 
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry 
me, my Kindred Soul?

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare

Details | Limerick | |


A cockney from over the water
Had a wife and a tasty young daughter
They would lead him a dance
And he stood not a chance
Cos they both never did what they oughta

Copyright © John W Fenn

Details | Rhyme | |

Seemed Like A Routine Day

Being a nurse I had a good understanding of medications for pain, Explained to my Obstetrician I wanted everything, I was not insane, This was my first baby and being in healthcare had very few perks, I’d be given an epidural when the time came, but not by any jerks. Worked full-time then started maternity leave 2 weeks before my due date, Of course I sat at home for another 5 weeks, oh my first baby was really late. I read every book in the library and cleaned my house more than one time, Everyday the neighbours would drop by, I was tired of the door bell chime. Walked into the hospital to have a non-stress test, done every other day, My doctor laid his hand on me and asked “how long have you been this way” I replied “ for about 11 months, you should know you’ve seen me every week” He firmly instructed the nurse to call my home, for my husband they must seek. My husband knowing my test was routine, had driven to town to go to the Gym, What is that you say dear doctor, “I’m fully dilated, I’m soon going to be slim” Well first I’ll I just zip home to grab my luggage and I promise I just zoooom, What’s that- “I’m bypassing the labour and going straight to the delivery room” So I hopped onto the table, took deep breaths and put my feet in the snare When finally my dear husband arrived ~ with more than five minutes to spare “It’s a beautiful girl with dark hair, 8 lbs 7 oz ” I heard the delivery room nurse say, My love has never been stronger, my greatest moment, our most memorable day. Written by Lee Ramage October 6, 2011 For Frank Herrera’s contest “One Stand Out Day” Won 4th place

Copyright © Lee Ramage

Details | Burlesque | |

Suburban Spring

Suburban Spring	

	Springtime fills the air, 
			like laughing gas.
		(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
	Middle-class houses 
			are starting to dance.
		(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
				Confused and intrigued, 
		with a slight urge to pee.

	The father cuts grass, 
			like a sleepwalker.
		(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
	A six pack later, 
			he starts washing his car.
		(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.

	The mother kneels in dirt, 
			tending the garden.
		(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty.  (Figuratively, at least.)
	A sunset later, 
			she cooks family dinner.
		(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.

	The son plays war games, 
			dying for fun.
		(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
	A full pitcher later, 
			tweaking on sugar,
		(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.

	The daughter makes a picnic, 
			inviting her toys.
		(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
	After the tea time, 
			she's off picking flowers.
		(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)

		They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
		They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."  
			(And proceed to stuff their face.)

	The dog sits by the boy - 
			Loyal and true.
		(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
	After dinner, 
                     he offers to help with the dishes.
		(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite.  The dog is not surprised.

	Bedtime comes soon after.  
			The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
		(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
	After tucking them in, 
			the parents watch TV.
		(Or maybe they just dream they do, 
					sleeping in its glow.)

	The dog is changing channels, 
			looking for a better show.
				Confused and intrigued, 
		he pees on the carpet below.

Copyright © John Taylor

Details | Carpe Diem | |


Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.

Copyright © Sam Ruby

Details | Ballade | |

Lisa Maree

Dedicated to my darling daughter. Lisa Maree, the kindest girl in the world

Lisa Maree

Lisa Maree, you baffle me
You just don’t seem to care
You throw your money all around
And people who won’t share
Will try to take you for a ride
And you can’t always see
What some folk try to do to you
You’ve too much trust in thee.

Lisa Maree, it’s plain to see
That you’re a special girl
Though sometimes you go off on one
And mind goes in a whirl
Your heart is gold, pure solid gold
You’re as soft as heated honey
You have a sense of humor too
You even think 'you’re' funny.

Some might find you hard to take
These fickle kinds of folk
Will run you down for being you
And treat you like a joke
But fickle folk don’t mean a thing
You’re far above the rest
When you are helping someone out
That’s when you’re at your best.

23 August 2013 @ 1817hrs

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |


I am sorry,
I am very sorry,
This is for my daughter
I mean my young, beautiful pet.

That was it, the voice of my friend
Who now prides himself
Of another daughter across the street
Only God knows how many of such
I mean those susceptible to his carrot.

Indeed, very young
Full of life to live
Looking innocently attractive
Until he crept into her life.

Her Aunt’s door left ajar
She fell like a pack of card.
He dazzles her Aunt with intermittent gifts
He branded the girl “My daughter”
My innocent friend became a father
And dangles before his daughter a lanky carrot.

As times tickles away,
The daughter not only eats the golden carrot
But she swallows it gently with exactitude

Yet, her Aunt saw no changes
When carrots thickens her sister’s hips
And her flat buttocks getting curved roundly
While her chest pointer getting shaped
Her Aunt still blinded with gifts of “Suya and bread”.

Here comes this day knocking
As my friend’s daughter
Vomits and coughs repeatedly,
She feigned to be well before her Aunt.

“Nothing, I’m okay”
She smiled to her friends
And pretends to all
But grim only at her father

The act got caught short
Not for too long,
Now we all know,
That she has swallowed her father’s carrot
And it got stucked in her throat.

When?, Where?, Who?, her Aunt queried
Three months ago, she retorted
My . . . My . . . My . . . father, she replied.
Before eyes got blinked,
My friend’s was out of town
In search of another daughter.

Alayande Stephen T.
4th August, 2007

Spiced up for my good friend Tope and his daughter.
It all happened on my visit to Abuja.

Suya- An Hausa language (from Nigeria) for roasted meat.

Copyright © Alayande Stephen