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Quatrain Son Poems | Quatrain Poems About Son

These Quatrain Son poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Son. These are the best examples of Quatrain Son poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Judge Not

The congregation eyed him skeptically
     Long hair, a beard and sandals on his feet
Beyond his exterior they’d not see
     This rambler had just come in from the street

He blessed himself with the sign of the cross
     And joined fully in each hymn that was sung
It was soon apparent it was their loss
     When he greeted God with a gentle tongue

“Lord, You sent Your Son to roam on this earth
     His hair was long and to some seemed unkempt
And when He preached, insults were often hurled
     But He was not repelled by their contempt

“And so, Lord, I seek forgiveness for these
     Who cannot see beyond the clothes I wear
I’ll not be put down by those I displease
     I ask for forgiveness, make them aware

“That Your Son sported sandals and a beard
     I ask You judge them not as they judge me”
When the mass ended, the man disappeared
     At heaven’s gate his name’s on the marquis

Some of the congregation dwell below
     But the homeless man now sits by God’s side
For he had chosen love’s path to follow
     Appearances he did never deride

*For Jared's "At First Glance" Contest

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12,045 Days ......(and counting)

My affirmation deceitfully severed
forever robbed by selfishness
Left to tackle life alone 
Tumbling in the wake of my dad's mess

He left when I was three 
The crevasse has increased for 33 years
Traded his life with us 
For another woman and a couple of beers

He wasn't there to pick me up
When I fell off of my bike 
To teach me how to fish 
Or enjoy a nature hike

Now I'm a father to my son 
Hoping not to make the same mistake
Living day to day on this lake of life
My son in tow through my own wake

It's been nine years and we're going strong 
Six more years with my son
That's more with him than I had with mine 
My son I guard in a web I've spun

A web of love, discipline, and nurture
Full of "I love you's" and "see ya in the morning"
A kiss before school and one before bed
Lots of playing, talking, reading, and singing

My son doesn't know the pain I feel 
To not know my dad in intimate ways
No hands to comfort me or words to heal
No dad in sight for 12,045 days.............................(and counting) 

My son and I have a great relationship and for this I am thankful......

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The Sea Hag and the Funky Monkey

She came out of the sea at twilight
Weak and trembling, bent with age
Her hair entwined with seaweed
The pounding surf a watery stage. .

She stood awhile and listened
then with the most frightful groan
Beaconed with a bony finger
To her minions in the foam..

Out of the waves they scrambled
Creatures from the dark and deep
Unleashed this one dark night
From their prison did they creep..

The danced the Funky Monkey
while the stars shown overhead
With abandon celebrated freedom
From their dark and watery bed...

So had the sun and stars aligned
Just this once in untold years
To break the spell they suffered
And dry their unending tears..  

And with the light of faintest dawn
They turned from their heavenly shore
All crept back into the thrashing sea
And their likes were seen no more

Co-written with my grandson Jordan..9 yrs old

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Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance

James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "

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Another Man's Pain

A small grave, and for it's weeds was bare
with only a handmade wooden cross.
Easy to see that a child rest there.
Poor unloved young soul was my first thought.

Well I read this cross, for this child of grief.
"John my young son so frail and fair
my joy, my love, my life I leave
to the arms of your mother and Lord's care."

The back read; "To doctors all my money I gave
I cannot buy even a simple stone
with a borrowed spade, I have dug your grave,
I carve this marker, and am now alone."

That wooden cross, seemed to rise
high above great marble markers.
Thoughts rush my mind as I realized
the pain this poor man's heart had harbored.

Never again his son he will see
knowing his child would rests under cold ground.
As unkempt as this grave seemed to be, 
with it's wooden cross and it’s weeds all around.

I pulled at those weeds with my bare hand
then my flowers I laid at the foot of that cross.
I prayed "Please God, help me understand" 
as I felt the pain of another man's loss.

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He was the bard from Stratford, and as a teenager
he helped his father in his trade; he married and had children
and became the most popular and admired play writer
in all England...acting was also his other pleasurable passion.    

Curious Queen Elisabeth was one of the thousand spectators,
who came to see him in the Globe theater...she shed tears, 
and was stunned by the performance of his timeless plays,
and yet, some of his fellow-poets criticized him for his writings!

I wish I had lived in that Victorian era so intellectual and refined,
and had met him in person and had showed him my ample admiration;
I would have asked him the secret, which made him so legendary and loved...
and he would have whispered it to me, to make me revel in that revelation!     

I have read his inspiring works, and tragedies rampantly occur
from " Romeo and Juliet"...the Verona's immortal lovers, through" Hamlet "
whose insanity was undoubtedly caused by the specter of his father; 
and why didn't Shakespeare choose less dramatic plays not ending in death?

He wanted to teach us indelible lessons to show us how the human spirit
can be passionate, adamant, loveless, envious, cruel, unfair and treacherous...
to outline all kinds of guilt: from murder to envy so well-expressed with eloquence;
it's no mystery to anyone how he conjured up such plots with grief, madness and wit!    

Shakespeare was no ordinary kid, and he played with his siblings on Henley Street,
neighbors saw him trot to his grammar school, later he would make everyone weep; 
early in adolescence, did his prodigious mind envision one from a vague thought?
It's no wonder that he is widely read even today...hear his speak, he'll impart worth!  

Entered in Amy Green's contest, " Wow Me With Inspiration "

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Who They Are

His innocence lies in the very unknowing
Of what is the truth as he just keeps on growing
He questions the birds in the sky up above
He warms us with laughter and endows us with love
Every question from him is so serious, yet
I have to laugh, from the look that he gets
He’s often a handful, but with a heart that’s so wide
As he often states feelings that he just cannot hide

She is his sister; she’s a bit stronger and taller
Which makes him seem younger, just so much smaller
There in her heart, she, too, has her ways
Of giving us sunshine on the darkest of days
She’s dramatic and active, an athlete to boot
She’s the younger of my girls, who’s so very cute
She’s willful, demanding, but yet can be coy
She’s a blessing from above, an angel of joy

There, even older, another girl blessed us so
It’s been fun watching her age, fun watching her grow
She’s not yet an adult, but seems to just know it all
I hope in her assumptions, she never suffers a fall.
However, she my daughter and a real beauty at that
Who often asks us parents if her clothes make her fat
I guess it’s her age, but that’s the norm for these girls
I’ll love her like my baby girl, as she outgrows her curls

Then there’s the man, my oldest boy, he’s so wise
He grew up so fast, right before our very eyes
He’s sensitive and caring, so smart, gives respect
He’ll be quite the man, very successful I just bet
Though, he too, is a teen and subject to the pressure
He still does so much to which others don’t measure
He rounds off the family, he, my oldest boy
As all of them, together, bring just so much joy

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A granddaughter is a joy
a real genuine treasure,
to make the heart sing
with unequaled pleasure.

Her smile can brighten
the gloomiest afternoon.
In her sweet presence
my heart becomes immune

to trouble or sorrow,
defeat or decline.
In her, so clearly,
we see God's design.    

A grandson fills the gap
and completes God's plan.
In his face, I catch 
a  glimpse of the man.

His smile brings sunshine,
love defines his embrace.
My load becomes lighter,
worry's gone without a trace.

He will always hold
a large chunk of my heart.
No force can alter our
bond, it's off the chart.

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A Warm Welcome to Aimee

I cried along with you when I heard on the phone
Your first cries as you made yourself known
With little fists flying and a voice to be heard
You let everyone know, you would not be deferred.

With angelic eyes and a cute little nose
You were pink and rosy, right down to your toes
Everyone cooing, laughing and yes a tear too
For the new life and blessing on your day of debut.

With a head full of hair the color of fawn
Born in the morning just before dawn
You visited awhile and then went out like a light
An angel needs rest to shine that bright.

So welcome Aimee Michelle, we’ve waited so long
To have you with us; to hear your life song
Never doubt for a moment how much you are loved
You are our blessing that God sent from above.

*To my son who lost a son last year but was blessed last night with a daughter.  I
couldn't be there due to illness so I only got to hear her first cries over the phone.

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Lifting Me Up

My heart is on Your shoulders,
And You are lifting me up.
With every spoken tender gesture,
I fall a little farther in love.

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Choices To Face

I have some choices to face,
But these are not my decisions to make.
God told me what He wants me to do;
He said, "Listen, Son, I have a plan for you."

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Enjoy This Place

Follow your dreams and follow your heart;
God has shown you the path to start.
Never give up and always have faith;
Do what you love and enjoy this place!

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Lord, I do not know what to do;
Please, lead me by Your side.
Decisions I'm facing are lost and through;
Please, lead me to do what's right.

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The Orchid

The Orchid
As the orchid blooms its long beautiful flower
The perfume of which fills the air hour by hour
The strength in its leave when open from bud
No decay just a little wrinkle as in age it should
If Orchis the son of the nymph and satyr
Had not drunk of the vine and showed his desire
As he drank long and hard at the feast of Dionysus
His eyes fell on a priestess and caused all the fuss.

He wanted her, was his drunken decree
And he didn’t care if she didn’t want he
He coveted the priestess as he drank by the hour
Determined he was soon her going to deflower.

His advances she said she would not take
But he did not listen and her he would make
But for this insult to a revered priestess
The gods were determined he’d pay for her distress

He would not go unpunished this was THEIR decree
And ripped limb from limb they decreed he would be
The bacchanalians did tear him apart and justly so
He should have accepted the priestess she  said NO!

The father of Orchis prayed the Gods would restore
The son that he loved and would for evermore
After they listened to the prayers of a father distraught
The Gods returned Orchis not as a man but as a flower they thought.

Orchis became the flower with the strange sounding name
Whose beauty enchants and its perfume does the same
The orchid, the bulbs shape we will recognise today
The part under the body, where a man likes us to play.

© 9/02/2013/~GG~

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Mirror In My Pocket

~Mirror in my pocket~
Many years ago my Nana gave to me
A little pocket mirror, and she told me I would see
“See what Nan” I asked looking deep into the smokey glass
“You will see yourself” she smiled, and called me her "lovely lass"

It is a mirror so what did she mean, yet my Nan was very wise
And looking into the mirror, I didn’t recognise my eyes
Is this a trick I asked my Nan, while looking deep into the glass?
No trick lass, just a mirror but take heed of what comes to pass.

I slipped it in my pocket, thanked her and said goodbye
On the journey home I looked into the mirror, and it made me cry
Deep into the smokey glass I peered, but nothing I could see
No reflection of myself and I wondered how that could be.

 A woman then looked out of the glass, tears pooled in the saddened eyes
A face that was not my own, it was my Nan to my great surprise
She smiled and disappeared, my own reflection replaced hers there
Shocked and surprised, I replaced the mirror, with tender care.

I reached my home sixty miles away and lifted out the glass
A woman that resembled me smiled, and I wondered what had come to pass
Weeks did pass my mirror became a treasure never left behind
Because when I looked into it, it was of my Nan it did remind.
Then the day, I saw the mirror so grey and full of gloom
I peered into it knowing there was some impending doom
My Nans face appeared, and with tears she mouthed goodbye
That was the day she died, and the day the mirror cried.

The mirror, I keep close, as she did,it means so much to me
I will pass it onto my son when I think he needs to see
To the woman i loved and miss, my reflection changed slow-ly
It’s now the same one looking out, as when my Nan gave the mirror to me.

Time has passed the years have gone, my mirror is smokey grey
I’ll pass it on to my son so he can be ready for the day.
I took heed of the mirror over the years and what comes to pass
I saw that we all grow old and my Nan showed me, with a looking glass.
©1/10/2012 ~GG~

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The Birth Of A Girl The Birth Of A Boy

In a forest a girl was born   
A girl born oh so poor
This girl then caused this world now torn
Her birth opens a sore

But we do not now this girl mourn
She was left some money
A thrifty woman not to scorn
Then a taste of honey

She met a man she was forlorn
Bore a son Alois
Unwed and aging, no ring worn
No ring, so still a Miss.

Her bastard son none could be warned
When his mother did wed
He gave a name the world did scorn
A name that all wished dead

If his mother knew what was born
Hitler the name we know
I wonder would she have  been torn?
To give him birth, or no.

© 09/01/2013 ~GG~

Contest Entry.

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Black Diamond Night

                      Black Diamond Night

The rapier of light cut through the black velvet night
Two lovers looked up at the first star tonight
Look see, that star light above
But she could not see, the star was her love…

Bodies lying spent under the warm black sky
The rapier of light like a javelin poised high
His body glistening in the extending glare
Her eyes blocked by her lovers breath to share.

He stands and looks up to the gods above
You thought you could take me from this woman I love.
Thor looking down at his son now a mortal
Power he would give to his grandsons  through his portal.

His son once a demi,-god, now a mortal man
He vowed he would help, in any way he can
The light strikes his son from the black velvet sky
His back arched in pain his thoughts wondered why!

His lover lay replete on the damp flattened ground
Unaware of the pain and the light all around
Her lover stands his beauty abounds
In his hand a weight his fingers surround.

His heart is heavy, his father has cast him
As he opens his hand, his breath he does gasp in.
There in the palm of his hand he held tight
The most beautiful diamond from the black velvet night.

His heart is softened, he know it does mean
His father’s not forsaken him, his love he has seen
He takes his lover in arms, holds her tight
As they make sweet love under the black diamond night. 
© ~GG~ 18/08/2012

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Redeye Gravy

Now sits the redeye gravy in the pan
It certainly is not at all like jam
Mom made it years ago  for her man
Fry some country ham, pour  coffee bam

Never knew why it was called redeye
Then my grandson informed me just why
Men who had been out late had bleareye
Who looked like they had been drip-dry

I always thought that it was because
It had dark red color from drippings
In my home it  got an applause
I thought that it was God's blessings

I learned my husband doesn't like it
My grandson doesn't like redeye gravy
When I make it only make a bit
Always redeye gravy left heavy

Today decided to place on grits
Feed to the cats see if they like it
Now cat is running around won't sit
I guess that caffeine gave them lift

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As you peel back one layer you will a bit more of me
Each layer defines parts that the naked eye may not see
The outer layer is tough resistant and seems weather proof
Just one more layer down is where you start to find the truth.

Peel off a third one and that’s where my feelings are hidden
Not on the surface to be played with or abused when bidden
Another layer down is where my tears are caught and held back.
Until the hurt of death and squalor, that layer attack

The last layer you may peel from me, I hold on to so tight
 I don’t want you to see my heart naked, in the harsh light.
The layer that covers my heart and keeps it safe from abuse
Life constantly picks at it and it’s not really much use.

I tried so hard to keep that one in place and safe from harm
Then life produces its peeler, which I would like to disarm.
It endlessly peels away at the layers of my protection
Leaving me vulnerable and weak and open to infection.

To fight back at life I have found a small good cure all
And that is what lets me walk on the edge, I totter but not fall.
In times of trouble and death, pain, anger and even love
Look for the silver lining that helps give this life a little shove.

Shove these things aside; they will get dealt with in a while
Knowing that whatever it is, will be behind us - so smile.
The layer that keeps our minds strong and yes even clear
Needs the most attention, it gives us hope, love, and even fear

Good things and bad things all come and go day by day
But we find we always look back on them and so we can say
Another day passed though we never forget the pain
Let me replace that layer now and cover my heart again

A smile helps to build up the layers and keeps me on life’s path
As does love, friendship and forgiveness, and a smile turns back wrath.
When we feel we can never smile ever again in a thousand lifetimes
We will look back and find the memory dims and the sun returns to shine

My layers are there I try to build them and keep them supple and strong
But sometimes they get ripped in a wrench and I think I am wrong
Straight to the point where my heart beats and is exposed to life’s ills
Time to pay the piper, as he comes to collect on life’s bills.

Laughter the best medicine and that I truly believe
But there’s a time to laugh and then there is a time to grieve
Time to think and to fight, love and to perhaps even pray
I hope my layers will keep intact, and get me through another tough day.

© ~GG~ 25/12/2012

My son had to work today, he is a supervisor on a motorway service station. He came home to us at the end of his shift for any comfort we could give him because of a motor accident just past where he works that took the lives of two children and an adult and seriously injured two more. He had to get access for the emergency services and then deal with angry motorists as he had to block them trying to re-enter the motorway, while things were dealt with.  His one thought was how the families would now cope, not only with the losses but that fact that it would taint their Christmas celebrations for the rest of their lives.
Although we do not celebrate Christmas he is so concerned for their feelings he is finding it difficult to cope with. My heart grieves not only for them and their horrendous ordeal, but my son whose heart has been laid open to their pain.

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Son, I know you by heart

My memory fades like an early morning fog
But you my son I know by heart
The impossible miles you alone have trod
An uphill climb from first breaths start

Fluid filled those vacant places 
Where only your brain should have claimed
Of a viable life the prediction was traces
For a life that would be horribly lame

Those Doctors didn't conceive you
You were mine from beginning to end
I said "he's my son not a knot to undo
When termination was suggested and penned

I loved you then and I know you now
Every obstacle you've overcome
A 3.7 GPA you've made it to manhood somehow
I knew to that prognosis you would never succumb 

Of every therapy under the sun
You would never quit or complain
Though your struggles were bitter and stung
You took pride in the promise of your name

Josiah - Healed by God - 
A humble man in the kingdom of men
Now I see you promised to a beauty
The wife I hoped for you then

Soon your quest to be a teacher
When you've earned your final degrees
In the eyes of our future you'll be a leader
The proof of what belief can achieve

Your spirit is tenderness
Your ways are sweet
You abound in being real and generous
And acquire the love of all that you meet

My son with eyes filled of turquoise and brown
Know this... if my memory entirely in time depart
My pride in you will forbear my lips to frown
For my son, I know you by heart! 

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The best investment I ever made

My son upon this Christmas Eve 
I reminisce of midnight hours
Your fingers dancing over tenuous keys
And the emotions your talent empowers

I couldn't comprehend how you taught yourself to play 
Or just how this symphony of one became 
The songs you have inside of you like heaven on display
I revel in your poignant craft uniquely unprofaned

It's true that your propensity 
Can lean toward darkened depth
A common vein for artists 
To be moody and depressed

For your pain releases beauty 
by your gift it's voice relates
You know your in the masters company 
of Mozart, Bach, and Hemingway

So when your struggles weigh 
As the sea laden oceans sand
Take your seat and breathe
Stretch out your feral hands

Creating an instrumental euphoria 
For the lonely and the damned
Open the gate to moods your feigning
Though others will misunderstand 

Christmas Eve and it's memories
This flashback came my way
Of your very first piano 
The best investment I ever made

But one day when I'm aged and old
It will be you who cares for me
Play for me then on that Christmas Eve 
With your love in every stroke 

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                 I BLESS HIS SUCCESS

If a father’s success can be measured by that of his son
Then with certainty I am as successful as anyone
If a father’s job ends when his son is a success
Then I have a victory to openly confess

I look at a man and see the man I would have liked to become
I am brimming over with utter pride and then some
My son has taught me humility and the meaning of self-esteem
And has brought to fruition every father’s ultimate dream

If I am not the man that I had planned to be
but at least I can say my son has done much more than me
He continues to astound me with every passing day
By how he gives back to the world in every way

If a man’s character can be gauged by that of his son
Than this father has as much character as anyone
Although he has no real reason to be proud of me
I am more than proud of the man he’s come to be
     clarence darrow opined that the sins of a father fall on the shoulders of his am I glad that didn't hold true for you!

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The Day I had my baby

It was a glorious day

I can say as I held you in my arms

You were my little Boy....

Oh I still dream, About all of You

You were mine, my happiness made me cry

To say the least, your Kisses are songs

and you were mine, but now so gone

The dreams are still there, Oh baby of mine..

I give to you all my kisses, I give to you

The words I know, Dreaming of days

Your kisses so pure, My little baby boy

This brings a tear to eye, I miss the heart

That overflows, The truth of someone’s Woes.

A rare and precious Moment, Which it goes and goes

To be lost into, Nothingness

My son you are Gone From me the dreams of you

never leave.

Oh baby of mine

This is dedicated to the son I lost TWENTY one years ago. My heart still breaks. The pain never goes away.

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FREE CEE i lost my mom and lost my only ally


Chances are I won’t be able to do this well at all
Now that my mother is about to answer God’s final call
The doctor assures us she hasn’t very long to live
And that is grievous because she’s always had so much to give

She was always quick to dispense whatever I might need
And advise me on things with wisdom’s words I usually did not heed
“Don’t do that Son, because you’re tribulations might double”
And true to her admonition I would only gain more in trouble

My mother, my mom, my rock and my salvation
And now her days are too speedily coming to a cessation
If only one morning she didn’t awaken to the dawning of a brand new day
That, for me, would have been a much simpler and speedier way

Easier when compared to the burden I now bear
Complicated by a massive amount of remorse and sheer fear
I understand how much more time she’s had than many others
But she’d have so much more time were I to have my druthers

Well, at least I gave her a grandson and his son to adore
Oh, but if only I could have given her so much more
More honesty, more happiness and so much more joy
But instead I’ve given her heartache since a very young boy

God knows this is a task which I won’t do very well
And I beseech God, “how do I do this, pray tell?”
I know His answer would only add frustration to my fear
Because the Lord also knows that this is a burden I bodily cannot bear
© 2009…..Rita Cohan’s loving son Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
With loving remembrances, hurtful remorse and the kind of love a son can only have for such a special kind of mom

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Rappelez Vous, Remember

(English translation below original French)

Rappelez-vous les petits fils 
Qui ecoutaient leurs grand-peres
Raconter des histoires d’ infanteries 
Et de battailles de la premiere guerre.

Rappelez-vous des braves garcons 
Qui s’imaginaient etre des soldats,
Qui plus tard servaient le drapeau American 
En tant que veritables soldats.

Rappelez-vous des pauvres parents
Qui ont recu des telegrammes et des lettres,
Et qui apres ont place indefiniment
Des etoiles d’ors aux fenetres.

Rappelez-vous de chaque petite amie
Qui esperait un jour se marier
Avec son beau voisin-ami
Qui ne va jamais plus rentrer.

Rappelez-vous des nouvelles jeunes veuves,
Avec ses petits orphelins des peres,
Qui devaient subir les enormes  epreuves
D’elever leurs enfants sans l’aide des peres.

N’oubliez pas les anciens jeunes garcons—
Les chanceux qui ont survecu
Et regardent souvent  les horizons lointains
Cherchant leures ami-fantomes qui ne sont jamais revenues.


Remember the grandsons
Who listened to their grandfathers
Tell stories of infantries
And battles of the first war.

Remember brave boys
Who pretended to be soldiers
Who later served the American flag
As real soldiers

Remember the poor parents
Who received telegrams and letters
And who afterward indefinitely placed
Gold stars in their windows.

Remember each girlfriend
Who hoped to marry someday
Her handsome neighbor/friend
Who will never come back again.

Remember the new young widows,
With their little fatherless children
Who had to undergo the enormous ordeals
Of raising children without a father’s help.

Don’t forget the former young boys-
The lucky ones who survived,
And often look at the far horizons
For their phantom-friends that never returned.

Details | Quatrain | |

I Gave You All My Kisses

I give to you

The words I know Dreaming of days so pure

Your kisses so precious My little baby boy;

This brings a tear to eye

I miss the heart, That overflows

The truth of someone’s Woes

A rare and precious Moment

Which it goes and goes. To be lost into

Nothingness I know it shows...

My son you are, Gone, From me

the dreams of you never leaves

my heart griefs 

Oh baby of mine....

For me In Heaven My little Son

Hang on baby

Hang on Don’t cry

One day I will see you

In Heaven

Oh baby of mine

and my dreams

will be fulfilled....

Oh Baby of mine

My heart breaks Just to know

I will Never see your face

So precious Are thee

My darling Son

That was to come

A rare and precious moment

Were you, Oh Baby of mine.....

Brooke Dylan 2014

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The Burning Within

Embedded in every aspect of life, blood.
Wrath rips souls to shreds for worldly causes.
Plentiful tears upon forever flood.
Returning an empty vessel, man, to ashes.

Blackened hearts manifest their loathing.
Brother competing with brother for greed.
Envy destroys the mind, with covetous lusting.
Worldly ways birth another bad seed.

Every aspect of breathing proceeds with caution.
Trust is lost in planes of angry strife.
Ambiance dreams in self-satisfaction.
Mankind enters adulthood flawed by life.

Odium thrives, falsly justified by differences. 
Compassion too soon lost feeds fearful thinking.
Evil forces busily shuttle interferences.
Clawing, character against character, chafing.

But…there was a crucifixion.
God’ Son came to earth, a son of woman.
Resolved to cleanse hate’s affliction.
Justice serving forgiveness to every man-

Each eternal soul was bought by Jesus’ blood,
He washed sinful ways; set man’s pure goal.
God’s loving sent in everlasting flood.
Renewed, He embraces each righteous soul.

© February 19, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

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there’s only a very supreme segment of society who get it
This ain’t a planet, it’s just a floating orb formed of “sh*t
Now pathetic people are pissing on it and it’s going to turn into mud
Yet and still human beings are running around afraid of a flood

A flood?  Are they delusional is what I’d like to know?
Because a flood ain’t gonna compare to the fire and snow
What Job went through with locusts and boils will seem like nil
And quite frankly, I’ve had my fu***ng fill

I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m played out and weary
And a one world government is making me leery
“The New World Order” frightens me but not as much as Mack
Oh, Mack’s the dude down the street who lives in a makeshift shack

He only frightens me because he ain’t afraid
And he might also know from what this planet was made
My Grandson may inherit a world where peace and pride are a thing of the past
And if people keep perpetually puking and pissing on this puny planet it simply cannot last
       © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~ 

Details | Quatrain | |


I stood before truth
Unsure of what to say
Shadowed by life’s absence
The martyred words of May
Why didn’t we speak
If only to taste a spring day
To rejoice in a warm glimpse
Of winter’s interrupted fray
I still have the pictures
Framed by years of neglect
Too dusty to fondly recall
Too painful to reflect
I only wished to hold you
To bask in your pride
To hear my name spoken
As if truth never lied
I stood before him
Knowing this was the end
That my father had left me
And I wasn’t even his friend

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The UFO at Cary Forest

Nestled among the trees in a primitive campsite,
A cub scout and his mother were on their third camp-out.
The tent was pitched; double foil wrapped food was cooked just right.
The young campfire cook gave his skills a great workout.

In the past they had stayed there several days at a time.
Driving through the forest just the mom and her young boy.
Thinking about those days brings back memories sublime.
It was a lot of work, but brought them so much joy.

Nights were spent listening to the serenading bullfrog.
At dawn, she photographed wildlife while he made bird-calls.
One morning when they came around the bend in the fog,
A long-necked majestic doe stood tall and enthralled.

The angle was such that she could not get a good shot.
So, she handed him her Cannon; he aimed, then, clicked.
It would be days prior to seeing the picture he got.
She and her son took pleasure in the woodlands frolicked.

In the hours of darkness they finished playing cards.
Their lantern was glowing; it was time to go to sleep.
Outside there was a whirring they could not disregard.
The mother turned out the light; whispered, “Don't make a peep!”

Her heart was pounding faster and her eyes opened wide.
She was afraid to move, but tried her best to be brave.
She unzipped the tent slowly and took a look outside.
The unlikely sight she saw gave her heart a shock wave.
Up in the sky was a circle of lights… humongous!
The outer ones were orange and the inner ones flashed white.
The sound was so loud that soon the boy became anxious.
With a quiet hush she said, “We're going to be alright.”

All she could think about was fear and their abduction.
Teenage daughters, not camping, needed her to survive.
She was so terrified her mind could hardly function.
There was nothing she could do to get out of there alive.

Would sharp-witted life forms from outer space understand?
She had no choice but try; inside she shed silent tears.
Begging aloud to the alien craft, words unplanned.
Daughters, with no one to tend them would struggle for years.

When she explained their situation, the noise ceased quickly.
She peeked outside again to see only stars in the sky.
He, now a man, was not allowed to look out…hazy.
She thanks God for the night the aliens went bye-bye.

©  October 8, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

P.S. Years later, she saw the same craft in NASA space photos listed as something not 
seen before…unidentified!  When she went to show her husband, the picture had 

Details | Quatrain | |


                                       WAY TO DO IT

Chances are I won’t be able to do this well at all
Now that my mother is about to answer God’s final call
The doctor assures us she hasn’t very long to live
And that is grievous because she still has so much more to give

She’s was always quick to dispense whatever I might need
And advise me on things with wisdom I usually did not heed
“Don’t do that Son, because you’re tribulations might double”
And true to her admonition I would only gain more trouble

My mother, my mom, my rock and my salvation
And now her days are too speedily coming to a cessation
If only she could not have woken up at the dawning of a brand new day
That, for me, would have been a much simpler and easier way

Easier when compared to the burden I now bear
Complicated by masses amount of remorse and fear
I understand how much more time she’s had than many others
But she’d have so much more time were I to have my druthers

Well, at least I gave her a grandson and his son to adore
Oh, but if only I could have given her so much more
More honesty, more happiness and so much more joy
But instead I’ve give her heartache since I was a very young boy

God knows this is a task which I won’t do very well
And I beseech God, “how do I do this, pray tell?”
I know His answer would only add frustration to my fear
Because the Lord also knows that this is a burden I bodily cannot bear 
            © 2012…..Rita Cohan’s loving son, Jeffry ~free cee!~ 

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My family demanded “come on and take this car and park it”
Oh heavens, wifey poo, what happens if we’re late for the market
I really didn’t want any more loud conversation and neither did she
And to see if I was close enough to the curb she actually measured it accurately

So we go through the islands of rising prices
And the snack aisle was arranged by a demon’s devices,
We passed cookies and cakes, bread and bottled water
And of course condoms for our sixteen year old daughter

Our daughter is hyper-concerned with what we purchased today
She checks out the products and what the ingredients say
While little Billy is acting silly on isle six because that’s what children do
And he gets Fruit Loops or he’ll  hold his breath until his face turns blue

My little girl said “this one is made of glass, and this one is made of plastic| 
Dad, please tell Billy to be quiet because the situation is drastic
Glass can be recycled but plastic will be here for my great grandson to find paper or plastic, neither, we brought a cloth bag because recycling should be in every heart and mind
     © 2011.…Phreepoetree
Please help me save this puny planet that pathetic people are pissing or puking upon purposefully in good shape for Mr. Travis Ian

Details | Quatrain | |

Evolution of a Poet

Employed by Boeing before I retired An engineer, then into management I had good writing skills, as were required When I wrote, you could tell what was meant Poetry wasn’t of interest to me For the first seventy five years of life In fact, when my three daughters lived with me They had no interest; neither did my wife Interest first kindled by Troy, my grandson With his poems, written for an eighth grade class E-mailed to me, read them all and when done Wrote my first poem, it came together fast While at my desk, looking out the window I observed a robin seeking a worm While watching his movements, let my words flow Wrote “Bobbin the Robin “and interest firmed Asked Troy if he’d like his poems in a book Maybe enter his best in a contest Joined poetry websites; learned what it took And we entered poems, but mostly in jest Demands are high on a teenager’s time Troy’s poetry was on the back burner I kept composing with words that rhyme I posted, although I’m just a learner Didn’t know when I posted on the sites The members were free to give them a read And just the thought of that gave me a fright But found out member comments fill a need When I Read the comments on my poems Fascinated by what they say Encouraging with so much support A sincere one would make my day One commenter had interest in my work When as a poet, I become seasoned Given my age, I couldn’t help but smirk I never live that long is the reason Meaningful comments received on my work Keep me involved and my efforts on tract Without them, my work I’d probably shirk My fellow poets made such an impact My first poems were all written in Quatrain It’s a form that was came natural to me At the time, didn’t even know the name But rhythm and rhyme, my poems had to be Explored forms with which I’ve never dealt It’s never too late to learn something new Over a hundred poems under my belt Trying something else was the thing to do To my fellow poets, I say, "Thank You!" You’ve made this an enjoyable pastime I now know it’s something I love to do Molding my thoughts into rhythm and rhyme

Details | Quatrain | |

Family Life

Brother, Big “J”, was the first born I was the last to arrive Born to some loving parents Our family life did survive In my family as I grew up It was Dad who was “Da Man” And Dad and Mom would speak as one That’s how our family ran Never did I hear a cross word Spoken between Dad and Mom If waters churned behind closed doors I only saw waters calm My folks both come from the old school Sparing the rod’s not their thing Dad did most of the discipline Sometime he punished with pain When Big “J” or I, did bad things Mom would say in a low tone Words that we both hated to hear “Just wait till your Dad gets home” As I grew older, I soon found A whipping isn’t so bad Punishment by a tongue lashing Could really make you feel sad It was off to church each Sunday Then we would go out to eat To Luby’s Cafeteria To me that was such a treat We took a family vacation To a new place every year It was planned to fit our budget We did things kind of austere Most of his life, Dad was a cop Of one sort or another A grandson became a cop too As did one of his brothers Now Dad was a “Jack of All Trades” Must have learned lots on the farm My Mom was an excellent cook Our food was always served warm Both had a great sense of humor My Dad could tell a good joke He did have one bad habit though For many years he puffed smoke I lost Dad at age fifty three Mom left at seventy two I’m the only one still alive Brother Big “J” is gone too Of course I miss them all so much They left me here all alone Those memories from my early years No longer shared, since they’re gone

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The tragedy is...
when one finds himself alone,
relying on dreams that die before they are being born;
seasons renew themselves, his hasty years can't otherwise!   

Love gently strokes with indelible joy the portrait of happy faces, 
and its colors blend in to immortalize those realistic images:
by placing roses in the hands of an elegant lady;
grant her lifetime' wish, love her with dignity! 

The tragedy is...
having a lot to say, but afraid to speak words,
all the while she awaited your approval of indecisive lover;
constantly checking the mail-box for another letter!

Showers of confetti swirling in the festive air so delusional...
is a parade of an urealized  thought to attract the trivial imagination,
see reality as it is:  earn trust by being more caring and lovable;
fulfill her needs, and she will satisfy yours with true intention!

The tragedy is...
most men wait for that opportunity to open up,
to reveal the sensitive side of the their fearful and silent heart;
and keeping affection from their women, can cost them much happiness!     

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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I wouldn't have loved anyone more than her,
and it is no secret that flowers make a mother smile,
when she takes them from two hands that care;
I honored you, mother with my thoughtfulness and pride...

Neither in early adolescence or late childhood: 
did I see a single trace of profound sadness;
and you gave me all those caresses and kisses 
when I was asleep in my warm and tidy bed...   

Beautiful and adorable mother, I was your only boy,
and in all honesty, you must have loved me a bit more
than the four girls you who were as obedient as I;
and in all fairness, they equally shared that incredible love...

Only your portrait can make that memory relive in your child,
I stare at it and suddenly light comes flashing at me: 
the happiest and most radiant smile God ever created so lovingly,
to make those tender eyes forever live in this smile of mine...

Sweet and gentle mother, be that comforting angel who will embrace me 
when uncertainty and sorrow will make me desperately mourn;
don't dry all these tears, but take them to the merciful Lord:
as my gift of infinite gratitude and immense love that I demonstrate so deeply...

Before I brought you crimson roses, the flowers that made a mother smile
on a blessed day, such as this, which no devoted son or daughter could forget;
now, I don't bring roses, but purple and yellow chrysanthemums to your burial site,
to embellish this unadorned tombstone on which I will weep and lament...   

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Semaj, Knowledge of your Past

Look at your man
And look inside him deep
Has he lived for hundreds of years
And seen things, that would make you weep

Take a moment and pause
And think of the son of Kade
He came back to his past
And seen your tomorrow made

He has stood in moments of history
Sadly, he has seen what man has done
To see what we do to another
Believe me, man has never began

To walk past Calvary
And see mothers sons who died
Knowing they had a reason
These fallen ones who tried

Into history you slowly march
Involved in so much crime
There is somebody out there
Who will decide you've had your time

Believe the son of Kade
For he has seen your past in true
You can go to sleep and dream
Until its in front of you

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FREE CEE death on dads day

                     DEATH ON DAD'S DAY

dear dad, i know you can't read this now
and i always wanted to apologize but never knew how
and today it still remains the same
because i alone accept all the blame

you gave me the means and ways to be wealthy and rich
and now, today, on father's day, life ain't noting but a *****
it bites, it stings and i can't say a word to ashes in an urn
but in the end i know precisely where my soul will burn

i put you through hell a thousand times or more
you bailed me out of jail and still let me through your front door
well now that door is no more and either are you
and there's nothing a recalcatrant son can do

i can't say i'm sorry to a ghost who haunts me to this day
and since six months ago i grieve every single day
all you wanted ever was a son you could be proud of
and instead you got a villain who abused the word love

so if you could only see my tears
as i gaze back over the years
i think you'd understand and believe
that my only repentance is to wail, cry and grieve
  (c) PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

Details | Quatrain | |


My wife demanded “come on and take this car and park it”
Oh heavens, wifey poo, what happens if we’re late for the market?
I really didn’t want any more loud conversation and neither did she
And to see if I was close enough to the curb she actually measured it accurately

So we go through the islands of rising prices
And the snack aisle was arranged by a demon’s devices,
We passed cookies and cakes, bread and bottled water
And of course condoms for our sixteen year old daughter

Our daughter is hyper-concerned with what we purchased today
She checks out the products and what the ingredients say
While little Billy is acting silly on isle six because that’s what children do
And he gets Fruit Loops or he’ll  hold his breath until his face turns blue

My little girl said “this one is made of glass, and this one is made of plastic| 
Dad, please tell Billy to be quiet because the situation is drastic
Glass can be recycled but plastic will be here for my great grandson to find 
so we brought a cloth bag because recycling should be in every heart and mind
     © 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Please help me save this puny planet that pathetic people are pissing or puking upon purposefully in good shape for Mr. Travis Ian

Details | Quatrain | |

The Day That He Returned Home

Its been many many centuries
Since the day I left
My fathers visions have been foretold
Of our country that has been left so reft

If you stand where I return
Look to the skies and you will see
For after the blinding flash
I will appear in front of thee

Beside me now you stand
A man of history
This day that I returned home
In memory of my family

To be here once again
Where I once stood as a boy
With my family and my friends
The most ultimate of joys

Our castle that was once our home
Where my family were safe and slept
Everyday my clan prospered and grew
Then to a new world, I crept

For that misty night in the Minch
Strange lights rose from its dark
Breaking from the waters so blue
Their silver ship did park

They had lain in patient dormant
Awaiting the birth of me
For thousands of years in the dark
They decided I was the one to free

This quiet son of Kade
To a different world called theirs
Stepped into their ship that parked
Gone from their clan, their heir

He turns to those who stand
Who witnessed his arrival
And the dereliction of grey
His clans castle, and their survival

Its comforts in weathered worn
Surrounded by poppies high
Where once were fields of wheat and corn
All that grows are red of die

For those that stood beside him
Just after that blinding flash
Was Semaj, the son of Kade
Their ancestor from their past

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                  ALMOST DIED AND JOY

“please dad, I need the toy fire house bad
oh my son, come with me and i'll make you glad
and so to quell a child's woeful tears
I purchase it and those were the Leggo years

“come on dad, it's just a set of wheels”
yes your right son and that's really no big deal
how much I love you is impossible to gauge
and that was the skateboard age

“check it out dad, surf's up and I need a new board”
and that was something I could easily afford
and as a father you figure that generosity pays
and those were the surfboard years

“pops, dig it, there's this chick and I need some fast cash
and Joe T. is trowing a really rad bash”
if I remember correctly her name was Vera
and that there was the girl craze era

“damn dad, I need a cool care quickly”
of course to a dad the word “need” is a father's reality
I hope he can hitch his car to a star
and that was the time of the very cool car

“oh dad, what could the matter be,
there are none so blind as those who will not see”
oh the secrets my growing son hid
he thought I didn't know but of course a father did

“oh dad, I hurt really bad inside”
and oh how a father cried
talk about a frustrated father's fears
and that was the dawning of the heroin years
   © copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Who was the foster or guardian and what are the natures of our Lord Jesus Christ

The foster father and guardian is St. Joseph
The husband of Blessed Virgin Mary
The natures of our Lord Jesus Christ are True God and
True Man


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Sleep well, Emily
on a soft pillow
resembling a willow
courting the starry sea...

And should a storm arrive,
I'll shut the windows,
and keep serenity alive
for the sake of precious dreams...

Sleep well, Emily
dreaming of August' breezes
when the gleaming waves
reflect a dark blue so pretty...

Covered by a transparent satin sheet color sapphire
softer than your own glowing skin,
your feminine curves induce an incredible desire
in the palpiting heart of this tempted man....

Sleep well, Emily
putting all thoughts to sleep,
unless passion arises an intense heat
to allow me to touch you softly... 

And exploring our sexuality
without being ashamed of nudity,
we are those lovers seeking total darkness
into a place where there's deep tenderness....

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Bob Loblaw

There's a grocery chain in Canada
Known by the name of Loblaw's
That in itself isn't anything special
Till owners named their son after grandpa

Their poor son was blessed by his parents
Didn't think very hard these Loblaws
Baptized their son Robert that's silly
Bob Loblaw, blah blah blah!

Like someone is incessantly babbling on
Making absolutely totally no sense
Bob Loblaw is quite an intelligent man
Bob Loblaw, blah blah blah!

His name makes him sound like an idiot
When introducing himself to a newbie
Hard as he tries to pronounce each syllable
Can't say it without sounding goofy

Poor Bob will take his name to the grave
Can you see the inscription on his headstone?
How can anyone be sombre while visiting
Imagine how it sounds on the telephone...

Hello, this is Bob Loblaw, blah blah blah!

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there’s only a very supreme segment of society who get it
This ain’t a planet, it’s just a floating orb formed of “sh*t
Now pathetic people are pissing on it and it’s going to turn into mud
Yet and still human beings are running around afraid of a flood

A flood?  Are they delusional is what I’d like to know?
Because a flood ain’t gonna compare to the fire and snow
What Job went through with locusts and boils will seem like nil
And quite frankly, I’ve had my fu***ng fill

I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m played out and weary
And a one world government is making me leery
“The New World Order” frightens me but not as much as Mack
Oh, Mack’s the dude down the street who lives in a makeshift shack

He only frightens me because he ain’t afraid
And he might also know from what this planet was made
My Grandson may inherit a world where peace and pride are a thing of the past
And if people keep perpetually puking and pissing on this puny planet it simply cannot last
       © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~ 

Details | Quatrain | |



Don’t tell me about Hell because I’ve been there and back
Don’t tell me about Heaven because I’ll never see it’s gates
Don’t tell me something is white when I know it’s black
And things won’t change until my misery abates

When this world changes it’s wicked ways
When the universe decides to change its mind
When everything I see are in shades of gray
Until then I’d rather be blind

Blind to the b*stards who do unspeakable things
Blind to the ones who don’t give a damn
Blind to what corruption and that which power brings
And government agencies are no longer a sham

I think about my grandson and pray for his tomorrow
I think about the world I’ll leave behind
I think about how he’ll wrestle with sorrow
And if anypeacefulness will be left for him to find

So please don’t waste your time telling me Heaven awaits
To me that’s bull**is a story, a tale told by lies
Don’t speak to me of angels because it’s now far too late
So I’ll just sit and wait until a sinner such as I finally dies
 © 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

Details | Quatrain | |

Chasing the Ball...

                                                          Simply for sake of conversation,
                                  On one chilling, dark December evening,
                I challenged my son to one-on-one;
Time offered me the reason.

                                                       Spotlights glaring...hours playing,
                                 My tall, gaunt black-haired boy,
               Submitting his secrets on that day,
Love I willingly offered to my boy.

                                  That red cobblestone alley...two lives altered,
                    Girls...friends...not ~ we discussed;
            Countless questions...answers with integrity performed,
     Honesty I offered...conquering trust.

                                                            So many demons surround us,
                                 Fresh snow...digressive days
When I search for him as the wind argues before and behind us,
              My heart shall find my son in that alley...

I love you, Tyler.  Mom xo

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Jeffrey, Interrupted

You picked a path when met with fork
And trod it bare so oft you walked
Into a tunnel so wretched and corrupted 
You slipped away, Jeffrey interrupted

Wednesday’s child is full of woe
But my May child has far to go
A decade times two your sacrifice
Fool’s gold for that roll of dice

Your values anorexic, almost starved to death
In the winter of your soul I cannot see your breath
Countless earnest declarations to all that you are well
But still you keep on walking through the raging gates of hell

Mephistopheles offered you a bargain so appealing
It mattered not to you to know that he’d be double-dealing
His sly smile belied the fingers crossed behind his crooked tail
You’re at a losing table, out of chips, and you’re no whale

Your dreams were long forgotten, and sadly never stoked
If I hadn’t watched this happen I would have thought it a sick joke
Something else seduced you and it surely did beguile
Enough to make you believe that your life was not worthwhile

You saw yourself in visions, amber glass contained your poison
False idols tempt with silent gestures - like a sailor lured by sirens
You go through good intentions like a sieve, like sand through glass
Earnest promises, years gone by, crises survived, but more forecast

For years I have done so many things to save you from yourself, my Jeff
I’ve run out of ideas to keep you whole, I’ve really nothing left
Like any loving mother I do not wish to see you in a tomb
And if I could, I would place you back into the safety of my womb

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What effect has Lust on our souls

Lust begets in our souls a distate for holy things
Perverted conscience
Hatred of God
Frequently leads to complete loss of faith

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Out of love, Eternal God sent Father Christ
His Son into the World
Because of sin, dying
Death of our earthly bodies, also eternal death

Father Christ spoke often about eternal fire
Awaits all those who reject Eternal Father’s merciful love in Father Christ
All who reject the Eternal Son rejects eternal life
He alone who he brings are condemned already

The condemnation is eternal separation from God
What Father Christ refers to as the “hell of fire”
The “furnace of fire”
The “unquenchable fire”

Hell is something man chooses
There are only two ways
Leads to Life
The other leads to death

For the gate is narrow
The way is hard
Leads to Life
Those who find it are few

The narrow way is Father Christ Himself
He said “I am the way
The truth
The life

Following Father Christ means
Following the Church He started
Following the way
Following truth and the life
No one comes to the Eternal Father
But by me”
In Jesus, the Eternal Father has made
A way to life for us

How foolish of me to refuse
I don’t like the means of help He has chosen
For my salvation
I chose to take the help He gave


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To Poe

He stole my precious and betrothed
to have and claim as his own mate,
and now I plot, my dark soul clothed
with blackened rage and clouded fate.

The flames that burn within me lead
toward an every fiery gate.
Dark, evil thoughts have cast their seed
on embers, my soul burns with hate.

My feral eyes now cast their gaze
upon my foe, who nears his gate.
I skulk amid a trellised maze,
anxious to make him lie prostrate.

Each footfall now, he nears my lair
and swift my blade strikes true its mark.
He gasps and stumbles, falling where
his life ebbs in the breathless dark.

Too curious to run or hide
I stand and watch his life abate.
'Twas then that guilt spoke in my ear,
"Now know yourself a demon's mate."

A dark, cold cell is where I bide,
wrapped in a prisoner's striped cape.
I'm filled with dread, I long to hide.
My soul knows there is no escape.

The hangman's gallows have been built.
Soon, one short walk up steps I'll take,
to feel the rope's rough knotted quilt,
and drop to death with one quick shake.

To Poe

Details | Quatrain | |

Why the Rose Bled

Parents so proud
Four sons they raised
From the Highlands of Scotland
In the pre-war days
On their crofts they worked
Morning till night
Unknown to them then
Off a future fight
The Germans have invaded
A country so free
Poland was taken
The world shaken visually
Britain declares war
As our men enlist
To rid the enemy
As the fighting shifts
Europe's engulfed 
In a feverish war
Many are dying
To comprehend what for
The four brothers
Sign up to fight
As a mother will pray
Every night

Campaigns they fight
In these theatres of war
Witnessing horrors
Never seen before
In their garden at home
On the family crofts
A bed of roses
With petals so soft
Then one day 
With a passing glance
A pink rose dripping red
In deathly stance
Their mother turns
To the gate she looks
Telegram in hand
From the postman she took
With trembling hands
She opens with care
Upon reading the message
In tear laden stare
Their eldest son
In Africa was lost
As many many others
Deaths global cost
Every day
As she passes the rose
It's pink petals bloom
Her tomorrow's fear grows

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We're Adults

In life, we need to stand on our own
This was my mistake before
I thought I'll get you
Without you learning how to take it

God taught me a lesson
That you're still there
Pray and ask God to help me win the poetry
It can be before the 1st before I can send you

This is being strong honey
We can do this
When you're a child
People say 'what if you dont have your parets or mother?'

That's how children learn responsibility
Okay, what if I get to the hospital or Something bad happen to me
Who will be there to talk to you?
You can't do anything, you have to live like that

But it will not be forever
We need to pray and ask God for graces
Pray for the one taking care of you
We need God'help in everything

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FREE CEE one impaired father reared by his son


Oh how I wish I’d been a father like him
Rather than a father whose future was duly dark and dim
I raised my son in the starkness of a future filled with fear
 A wondrous young son a frightened father was somehow to rear

Oh if only I had the wherewithal to have known it all
Rather than a father who couldn’t even teach his son how to crawl
I had too many other concerns in my body and mind
While my son had a father who was metaphorically blind

My eyes were incapable of seeing too much
While I reveled in my tiny son’s most tender touch
Otherwise I was numb to my son’s naturalized needs
With a litany of habits to satiate and feed

I saw that father pushing his son on the swings
While I was a dove wounded with withering wings
That father in the park was all I truly wanted to be
But alas, I was a father who was a father like me

I risked my son’s life time and time again
While pretending I could be just like most other men
Men who owned the wherewithal to do something worthwhile
Yet and still my little son always imaged a soothing smile

While he was smiling I was frowning and filled with fright inside
Since the age of seventeen when my self-control died
I was a father wrought and fraught with anxiety and fear
And if only I could have been a dad like that father by the swings over there
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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Twelve Apostles

Greek apostolos = someone sent, messenger
The names of the twelve apostles are these
First Simon, who is called Peter [Roman Catholic’s 1st pope] and 
Andrew his brother
James the son of Zebedee 
John his brother
Matthew the tax collector
James the son of Alphaeus 
[Judas [Jude]] Thaddeus
Simon the Cananaean and
Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him
Mt 10 2-4


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What do I do
What do I say
Do I believe all this
Or do I just pray
I've heard this story
Is it truth or a lie
Do I believe others
Or sit down and cry
I love him so
That I know wont stop
Do I believe the stories
Or let it all drop
Tell me God
Please let me know
Do I believe only You
And let it all go
So give me the answers
Make them clear as can be
do i believe myself
And let my heart be free

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I find hard to move around,
dragging my aching body,
unable to do even the simplest chores...
yes, I am very sick of flu:
it's something I can't undo!

I will not go to the hospital,
lie in a comfortable bed for hours,
coughing and sneezing waiting for a call...
while spreading this virus and infecting others.

I'm missing out on brisk walks  
that keep my immune system healthy,
and no blues frustrate me more than loneliness...
come spring and let joy renew itself in this memory.   

My remedy is Robitussin by far,
a miraculous cure for cold symptoms,
and since I can't go out, or drive my car...
I indulge myself in the creation lyrics.

It's my first day back to work,
I'm drinking coffee, and I shouldn't,
but these headaches won't go away...
unless I smell it, sip it and dream away.

Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

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I relayed on trust
more than affection;
watching every move,
instead of watching the flowers slowly bloom.

Wondering where love went,
chasing after the illusion
of bringing it back where it was;
and realizing the impossibility, I'm so saddened.

You wanted more than understanding,
warm hands to hold and the fire of desire...
to let you ride on your fantasy star;
and I regret all that I didn't give you with real feeling.

Wondering where love went,
and what is the lesson that 
life has taught me? Never wait
for others, just trust your instinct and shun every doubt.

Wondering where love went,
seeing happy lovers, engaging in romance,
who they have found their paradise; 
I was looking for mine in someone whom I didn't love enough...

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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This should be the happiest day for lovers,
when they are drawn to each other and their voices
fall to whispers with soft music playing...
in a room filled with roses and scented candles burning.

My gaze falls on you, o darling of my intense desires,
please, put on the sexiest nightgown and explore my fantasy;
and what I confide in you is a true definition of what I see...
I am romantic by nature, unraveling all my surprises.   

This should be the happiest day for lovers,
for the ones who deserve to be remembered and loved;
and to suppress happiness and laughter and expect no flowers...
is an acceptable sign of unworthiness, of a regret foolishly sustained. 

Refuge in my sensational embrace, sheltering your grace,
and this warmth can inflame you with unimaginable passion;
while a surge of sensuality will arise with irrepressible elation....
my anxious arms will seek yours as you abandon yourself to my kiss.  

This should be the happiest days for lovers,
slowly dancing under dimmed lights, reading thoughts
before they are spoken...without falling to silence; 
responding to caress that lead to intimate moments. 

Be adventurous, experimental and irresistable; 
give into those feelings that rule the flow of emotions,
have a notion of how you could be the most beautiful...
as Venus who madly attracted those young, handsome gods.

Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

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Chilly October has quickly brought in
another spirited, indelible Holloween;
allowing our witty and insane minds 
to plan the craziest, wildest things.

Witches, wizards, goblins and ghosts
all join in to give a bone-chilling night;
I put on a custom so dazzlingly white,
to scare anyone who laughs and boasts.

This ghost is never spoken of in any tale,
unknown by name, leaving no easy trail;
the only thing he does well is making sneers,
and send everyone scrambling with screams.

How frightened and pale these kids must really be,
when they cuddle up in their beds and can't sleep,
thinking of those spirits at their doorsteps;
lots of fun and delight at their expense...         

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Throw around legs
Throwaway hair
Biting her tongue
Tapping the chair

Dinnertime psychology
Filling her frayed mind
Undigested memories 
Too bitter to be confined

Eighteen years 
Blurred as if one
Opaque footsteps
Of a misbegotten son

“Dessert, mom?”
“No thanks, dear.”
Her plate is empty
Her conscience clear

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If Isaiah, Jeremiah, Moses and King David prayed to Jehovah,
why is it that His name is no longer invoked?
The Old Testament name has  been erased
from everybody's mind...and we still sing," Hallelujah! "  

God's name cannot be's a sacrilege, a violation of Jehovah's law!
How many times, in my anguish I have called on His holy name!
He wants us to use it and not be afraid of saying it aloud without shame;
so that the wicked, the wretched and the faithless will not curse it anymore!  

Here on earth, many declare to believe in one God,
who through the Prophets gave us a Holy Book to live by;
instead they make their own interpretations and shamelessly lie...
no wonder they have lost every blessing and can't see beyond!

O Jehovah, eternal and just, I declare you my God as all Prophets did,
sacred is Your name, and I proclaim it without fear; and let every hypocrite 
hear it in their cathedrals and synogoges! Oh, how they'll manifest their wrath,
because they are the modern, self-righteous Pharisees who will condemn me to death!   

God's name cannot be changed, it was spoken by humble David,
the shepherd who faithfully served a God of honor and integrity;
God's name cannot be changed to suit human's foolishness and vanity...
a name so magnificently set in stone must be called upon and be praised!

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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While the moon shines bright o’er the Sphinx
In a land of sand so far
A pharaoh holds his dying son 
While praying to a star

He challenged the word presented him
His feelings never bent
Upon him then a curse was placed
As death to the son was sent

The first born child was marked with death
As a result of his father’s denial
Had the pharaoh heeded the word
No death would be on the Nile

But, alas, he hadn’t, many had died
As a result of his own ignorance
Lives could have been spared, had he listened
And bowed to His magnificence

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My Son's Day

Never was I so proud of him
as I was upon that day
when he stood up on his own
and drove the competitors away.
It showed, the work paid off
and his efforts not in vain.
My son had proven to his dad
that he could work through pain.
You see, there was a time
when, he was pushed around.
The bullies had a field day
and knocked him to the ground.
I am thankful that he took his time
and he did not try to race.
Because of all his patience
he was able to take first place.
Now, when he walks out his door
full of glory and of pride
he knows that he can kick their butts
and from those bullies he won’t hide.
So he again has proven
he could stand and take the foes.
I am proud and awful thankful
He had studied Tae Kwon Doe.

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Talk to Them

Come here you, yeah you.
Where do you think you’re going?
What’s wrong, can I help?
How long has this been going on?

Children, they are the future
So very cliché but true
But, we must step in at times.
That, we must do.

Ask the questions above
To start your dialogue of hope
Let them know you are there for them
They will soon be able to cope.

The road may not be easy
It is surely winding and long
But with people there to love and help
How can any help be wrong?

Communication, yes that is the key
To open the door to the hearts
Let them know, continue your best,
Tear their walls apart!

Barge in, take by the hand
Then calm with your soothing voice
Let them know, no matter what
It will always remain their choice.

They need to know you will be there
And not rule or take control
But be stable, strong and true
And ready to console.

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In the dawning of my manhood
As boy grew into form
I dreamed of being half a man
With a need to be reborn

I hoped to take his temperament
And all decisive ways
But I went on to do things hastily
Succumbing to teenage days

When I finally thought I grew to be
A man to take control
I saw my life was not like his
And had to take a hold

My father was my example
But, I had failed to be
Half the man I saw him as
I had failed, you see

I put things in perspective
I needed then to change
I stopped as quickly as I could
My life, I rearranged

Now, that I am older
I have a son like me
But, he is like the boy I was
I hope one day he’ll see

I must remain steadfast
Let faith remain with me
I hope to be half the man
That he would try to be 

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My Visitor

She sits at home just waiting
Sitting, standing, not knowing what to do
At 89 she’s still a part
Of my life with a love so true
From the airport last night, I picked her up
I saw her, we both smiled
My mother, when she’s in my sights
I again become a child
But, here at work I think of her
Wondering what it is she’s doing
As her hearing’s bad and eyes, well
They’re no longer there for viewing
I know she feels so lonely
I can only imagine how she feels
Since my dad had passed away
She aged and lost some zeal
She has no interest to go out
Nor interest to make friends
At 89 who’s to question her
I pray her loneliness ends

So, mother, while you’re waiting there
For tonight when we come home
I hope that you can pass the time
And not feel so alone
The dog is there to greet you too
She’ll stay there, always at your side
Maybe take a nap, turn on the tube
We’ll be there in no time

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Mother's Silent Words

Weep not, dear sweet child, 
Your mother lives in the sky
Remember she loves you
And will be keeping an eye

She is smiling so pretty
As she watches you grow
She is ever so proud
She wants you to know

She wants you to be happy
Not shed any tears
She wants you to be strong
To control all your fears

She holds in her hands
A trinket of her love
She’ll bestow on you, child
When you meet her above

Now, she wants you to know
It’s important to go on
Keep her in your heart, loving
And forever be strong

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The Truth About Kids

Oh, my sons they are a handful
 and my daughters, they are a prize.
Despite it all, I love them dearly
with open arms and open eyes.
For, if you turn your back upon them,
they, in turn, will look to do
anything that they could think of
just to really infuriate you
Don't get me wrong, I do adore them.
They are my life. They make me whole.
But just beware, if you're around them,
they're very apt to lose control.
And, if by chance you are to meet them,
be very wary. Be on your guard.
For loving them, is oh so easy,
but, controlling them is oh so hard!

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What is a Man?

Man is not defined by age, or ever by muscle
One is not a man if old enough to take wine
He is not a man if his caring is only for himself
So how can a man then be so defined?

Well, a true man is a person of valor and virtue
He will stand strong in the face of adversity
He will do what is right, not following a crowd
He is one who admits weakness and has integrity

For a man truly is one that is a hero
Though an underdog he may rather himself to be
I hope, son, that you will be that type of man
For then, you will be more of a man than me

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What is thatBlood Upon Your Hands?

is that blood upon your hands
my one and only child?

you destroyed all our plans
for all your running wild?

do you sit alone and cry,
hot tears upon your face?

fear I see the future die,
for all your dark disgrace.

spirit flies around the world
and cannot find surcease,

bright our ventures were unfurled
and now there's no release.

have you done?Come tell the truth,
come to me 'ere I find,

you have slain the bird  of youth
and left our hopes behind.

sail across the ocean blue,
dear Mother don't you fear,

I'll return when things are new,
a fortnight or a year.

night came in andstole my soul
while conscience was asleep,

never meant to take the role
but evil thoughts can creep

the purest mind that rests
besot with spirits bright,

owed a thousand more in debts
and could not set it right.

me now as I depart,across the rolling sea

never meant to break your heart,
Forgive and think of me."