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Husband Sympathy Poems | Husband Poems About Sympathy

These Husband Sympathy poems are examples of Husband poems about Sympathy. These are the best examples of Husband Sympathy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

Today Is Terrible----

The cracked spine of
the book I dropped
at the call.
A chip in my
windshield left by a
pompous *?#@! in a
red sports car as I
drive to the
service.
Rain expectorating
from an ashen sky as
the dirt is turned.
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
crack in grandma’s
spine from her fall
down the stairs.
The chip in her
amazingly smart mind
after eighteen years
as a teacher.
Tears running,
dripping from my
Mothers ashen face
as she cries “My
mama’s dead.”
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
cracked family
emotions left raw
and empty.
The chip in Grandpas
numb mind at the
gathering… “Where is
Irene she should be
here?”
Faces gone ashen
with dread, do we
leave him numb or
remind him that his
wife is dead?
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
empty silences,
missing the jokes
Grandma used to
crack.
Grandma’s laugh and
her endless smile
which always exposed
that tooth with the
chip in it.
Without her the
world has become
empty, bleak, and
ashen.
Today is terrible.

                   
                   
                   
          Summer
Gratias


Details | I do not know? | |

Your Mistake

'Love is patient'
'Love is kind'
The thought of love
Can turn you blind.

But... Now we must
Take some steps
To verify those
Deep regrets.

The first problem you see
Was that. . .
He lied about
You being fat

That in turn 
Led ya to
Beleiving that
He 'accepted' you.

Mirrors were made
For a darn good reason
And thinking you are nothing special
Is high, high treason...

But no!
He's perfect
And no! He's kind
Seriouslly sister
You've lost your mind.

The recipe to love Is that
You have to love your self.
It's not about your facial features
Or the size of ya belt.

The man should be a rock to lean on
And not! A heartless swine.
So please next time. Do pick him wisely
Make sure he has a spine!


Details | Rhyme | |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.


Details | Lyric | |

This Aint Real

Your face, 
Made a fake smile, (you said)
I love you,
I need you,
I want you just for a while,
You told me,
That I made you smile,
All the things you said to me,
Are just words now,
How can we love,
When you love me for yourself,
(This Aint Love)

Chorus: 2x
What are we doin,
If this love ain't real,
What is this feeling,
That I feel,

I'm broken in emotion,
I'm broken in love, (you said)
I need you,
I want you
You're the only one,
I'm thinkin of, (so tell me)
How can we love, 
When there's always someone else,
(This Aint Love)

Chorus 2x
Bridge:
How can we love,
When there's always someone else,
How can we make up,
When you only love me for yourself,

verse #3:
You got me imprisoned, 
Inside your heart,
When kissed
I felt, Like we,
Would never be apart,
chorus 2x

 


Details | Elegy | |

The Lament For an Angel

All in one faded-black day (but let None forget) In my arms, her body lay (my life was the price to pay) A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame (do they know pain) My darkly colleen has to suffer no more (Robert nor do you) Let me die (please hear my haunted cries) If I can not see Sophie tonight (live on with my grey) I'm just a mess of despairing words And broken nerves Another mourning, afflicted sight (through decay, love can remain) Solace, sympathy are just more lies She is all I need Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away (My body is amortal, die I may, Together, our hearts will forever stay)


Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Blank verse | |

I Truly Do Love You

I will love you in every way.
I will always love you in some way.

I will love you everyday.
I will always love you no matter what others say.

I will love you until you feel okay.
I will always love you no matter what you say.

I will love you throughout any day.
I will always love you until my dying day.


Details | Free verse | |

God Bless The Garbage Man

Though this is written like a poem it is
more of a thank you letter.

God answers prayers in so many ways
he brings us people to help keep the faith
he gave to me a sweet, sweet man
who helped me truly understand
when i was low and ready to give up
see i was broke 
Without a job, no money, no food, no gas in the car
My husband needed to go and find work
To help his family stay a float
We saw the garbage man outside
We feared he'd come to take our garbage can
So we rushed out side to ask him not too
He said he wasn't there too
He just came to empty our can
'Cause the regular garbage man had passed us up
Now here is were God steps in
My husband and the garbage man talk outside for quit awhile
Tears fill my heart when I think of what comes next
My husband leaves and comes right back
He tells me that the garbage man has put $23 of gas in our van
My heart must of skipped a beat, I could not believe his generosity
Though it does not stop there
Apparently the garbage man has also given us $40 in cash
His only wish is was that it was not spent on cigarettes or booze 
This money was for my family to get food
So often we forget how God lends a helping hand
God does not promise to make us rich, or grant us all we wish
He simply says just ask of me and all you NEED will be given to thee

Today I send out a special prayer, "God, Please bless The Garbage Man that 
gave my family a helping hand. Amen"


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Witnesses To Sinners



I can't hear the words as they come from my mouth
I can't hear the screams as they work their way out
As I write all is seen is a blur and blank moment and
Once recovered sensed the words were written,not 
Even a look to see what was written only to know it
Was there.Sleepless night,taunt  filled faces horde my
Dreams.Have this made me fall so low no longer am I
Am I able to stand on my own to feet.How many times 
Will you make me cry before claiming only to being a 
Witness in a crime,your crime. Putting on that face
Working the crowds with amazing easily,how I hate you
Yes all the thing I think about revolve around you.
How many times have I witness myself wound my self
With your blade? As though under a spell doing as order
Without a cry to the world what made me so diligent ?
But no longer can you be a witness,No longer can I be 
A witness to these crimes that been committed.Be us both
Sinners be us both lovers be that we both be cursed 
We shall witness our sins become whole and the love in
Which we share spread further and further like the flames 
Of hades. May there be peace for sinners in the next world.
We are both witnesses and at the same time 
We are both sinners one day to become consumed by our
Own darkness how far will we fall until that moment comes?
May we be good may we be bad may we fall may we live may 
May we die or carry on we are the Witnesses We are the Sinners
To this world and the next.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

DAMAGED MY TRUE LOVE

written 17th Sept 2013



When it comes to love, I AM poisonous
 don't let me curse another, leave me loveless

For the first time in my life, I felt your pain and cried for your heart
 my heart finally hurts, knowing I passed this pain from the start

Please find help to set your heart free
 trust me, it's not a life you recover from easily 

Damaged goods I told you, unrepairable
 but some how, you managed the impossible

Unlovable for my entire life
 yet you had no problem, getting me to become your wife

Yes, it's been more than both of us should have ever had to bear
 at this moment, every cell in my body is overwhelmed, so I really do care

Please don't enter my life's pain and despair  
 you don't deserve it, you are so patient and filled with such love

I'm sorry I let myself fall in love knowing it would poison you
 soul mates forever and eternity, my love belongs only to you...




Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

Yesterday
she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
unhidden
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

HELP HER UP

written 2nd Aug 2013



This life is not as it should be
 pick up your wife, can't you see 

You're her husband, stand up!
 give her a reason, to again believe

She means 'everything'....to this family
 shutting the door leaving her totally... Alone

Do you actually know her at all...
 damaging her heart and soul, deep within it's cold

Loneliness consumes her, it's been so long
 it must be asked...do you still love her?

Are you willing to help her to her feet again?
 or shall you sit back and watch, as she see's the end

This is completely left for only you, her husband to declare
 how much does she really mean to you...do you still care?

Will you step up, or let her rot into total depression, you see it...
 Love and care, or death and dispirit

It's all up to you!
 Her loving husband, what will you do.....


Details | Rhyme | |

What about

What about the boy without a sister,
the girl who lost her brother,
the children without a mother,
the husband who lost his wife,
the widow who's husband lost his life,

What about the homeless people sleeping on the ground,
all the hungry people all around,
the ones who go to sleep by crying,
the ones who held their loved one's hands whiles dying,

What about the people who were suffering since their life started,
or the broken hearted,
the millions of fathers out at war,
so many children wishing to see their father walk through the door,

What about the people AID's or Cancer that will never recieve a cure,
all the blind people that died and never saw,
the def that will never hear a sound,
or the lost at sea that have never bin found,

What about the christain that will die in God's name,
who will get the murderers who killed as if it were a game,
the people who die or kill because they are forced to steel,
from the those who already cant afford a meal,

What about the mentally or physically ill,
so many people cant move at their own will,
or the people that got raped,
so situations people died in and never escaped,




What about the people who can help and show true love,
where is he where is she?
will it be you?
could it be me?...............................


Details | Quatrain | |

:sigh of relief:

Words spoken in silence,

[When language does not suffice]

Like a look or a tear, although concise

Can echo a lifetime in your ear,

Much louder than those you can hear.


Details | Verse | |

His Gentleness

He gently creeps into her room
to rest tenderly near her side
 while thoughts of melancholy zoom
 in  of his once vibrant bride
she's been there for him
so many, many years
he sniffles~and tries to hide 
the sorrow and the tears
she has been injured and hurt
but has lost the fight
she will not make it through the night
she will be in paradise by tomorrow's day
he reaches to sniff her best skirt
holds it tight~ it smells of her perfume
he drags over to the vanity to spray
her familiar scent around the room
he cradles her head within his arm
then musters an adoring smile as he whispers in her ear, 
"Time travels fast, and I will see you in a while, my dear"
He provides her warmth by stroking her hair
he wants to capture this image of her there
he wants this moment painted on the wall
so that he can always,always recall
how peaceful she seemed while adrift somewhere.

Copyright McCuen 2009


Details | Tanka | |

Love You

total enchantment
the time I shared here with you
long past the times, few
 
sometimes I feel the cancer  
is in us both not just you


Details | Lyric | |

Escape These Walls

You Build These Walls To Make a Home
For Yous Both To Live In
And The Day She Left She Dug a Hole..
How You Wished You Never Let Her.
Now You Stand In the Rain Because You finally Realise...

...She Was Your Shelter!

And All You Can Stand To think About
Is the Last Day...

..That You Felt her

But I'll Be Here For You
Because The Day I Built My Walls...

....He Left Me Too..

Months Pass On And You Wake To The Sun
And Oh God How You Wished You Felt It,
And Though The Rain Has Gone
You Still See The Hole She Left Up On Your Ceiling..

But I'll Be Here For You!
Because The Day I Built My Walls...

    


 He Left Me Too


Details | I do not know? | |

tHe siLeNt cRiEs oF aNorExiA .

my stomache burns 
i do not want to eat 
he says i shouldnt
i agree 
he stairs with disgust
i look away with shame 
after every meal 
i run to that bathroom 
..i gag myself
letting out all my anger
all my frustration
..all my hurt 
i walk out with a smile 
a smile ,hiding pain
hiding bruises
this is too much 
..for me
he finds pleasure in my pain
pleasure in my tears
..in my silent cries


Details | Free verse | |

The soldier, the war, and I

The soldier, the war, and I


Today I am home and thinking to my self..
What would I be doing if I had a soldier coming home to me and my family?
What would I be doing if I was the soldier looking to going home to my family?
And then, I look back at all the years passed since this last war..

Many children have grown to become men, Others have grown to become soldiers
Where would I be if I had gone to the war and fought for my country?
Where would I be if I had gone and came back safely?
Where would I be if I had not gone at all because I was not qualified to go?
Would I be with my family or in a hospital injured?
Would I be standing proud, and laughing with my friends and family?
Or would I be dead, as I never got to come back?

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
Thinking of all of those brave soldiers, children still
Who are out there, suffering.. And some ill

Today I am home and thinking to myself..
How many woman are crying because of their gone loved ones
How many men are crying for their loved and missed ones
How many children are fatherless or motherless, or both!

And at the end I stop. I think no more..
I am grateful for the things I have, 
I am grateful for the people who surround me...
And I am sure grateful to never have gone to a war; yet, 
I sure appreciate the thoughts, courage, life, and suffering
Of all of those who have been touched by it.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Death of Laci Rocha-Peterson

It's been almost ten years to December 2002 since Laci Rocha-Peterson and her unborn son were killed by her loser husband, Scott Peterson. This case has haunted the lives of all of the citizens of a California town called Modesto; just outside of San Francisco. It seems that Laci's life was ended permanently too soon, especially when she had planned on giving birth to Scott's first born son, Connor. Both of her parents (her mom and step-dad) were angry, her brother was also angry and dismayed, the people were shocked and disgusted, and so on. Scott Peterson was afraid to be a father, that he never wanted to spend the rest of his so-called "life" with his late wife, and, on top of all that, Mr. Peterson was also afraid that his late wife, Laci, would find about his love affair with another woman named Amber Frey, so he killed her as a cowardly act. Laci Rocha-Peterson and her first born son really didn't deserve to die by the hands of her own husband, their own flesh and blood. She and her son had a whole life ahead of them, especially when her son, Connor, was about to begin the first day of school and stuff. But now that baby Connor and her mother are not on planet Earth and in heaven now, their family members, especially her parents and his grandparents, are still in a depressive mode. What kind of human being would want to dump his or her spouse in a body of water, let alone the San Francisco Bay? Who does that? The media, including the CBS Network, Nancy Grace, and the San Francisco Post were all over the Laci Peterson case, especially when everybody knew that Scott Peterson Selfishly killed his own wife and unborn son. What a coward he is and/or was. Scott may have had all of the ones he loved fooled, but when he walks into the death chamber and is executed by lethal injection, God will decide his punishment. And when He does, Scott Peterson will pay for what he did to his wife and own son, his own flesh and blood. The spirits of Laci Rocha-Peterson and her son will live on in their relatives' lives and through the hearts of the ones who knew her. May she and her son rest in peace.


Details | Free verse | |

Snug

I saw my wife tonight
She was on my brother
with the words...no... letters...
abbreviation of some college
plastered on him
she kept him warm
like she did with me
hugging the curves of his
body
he held her closely
appreciative
her softness unspeakable
caressing him
He smiles 
looking at me 
breathing her into him
as I did her
"Thanks bro..."
I smiled back
Admiring her on him
"No problem...it's cold out"


Author's Note...inspired by a scene in a movie


Details | Lyric | |

Whispers in the night - lyrics to Life story by Peter White

Whispers in the night, longing for your ears
To drown every fear
But the sorrow sleeps with me tonight. 

Whispers in the night, saying a bitter prayer,
Gone the summer cheer,
Only cold snow fills me deep inside. 

Remembering the fun-filled laughter, the dreams we shared;
Together we made it: built that home of kids and bricks. 

Remembering the hurtful wards, the chemo and meds, 
That instant you were mine, then reality killed me: us was history. 

Whispers in the night, saying our favorite prayers
Seeing you everywhere
Your smell still lives painfully in this house

Whispers in the night: "Oh why not a few more years?"
There is still so much to share!
Nobody to hug and care for life!

Remembering the fun-filled laughter, the dreams we shared
Together we made it: built that home of kids and bricks. 

Remembering the hurtful wards, the chemo and meds, 
That instant you were mine, then reality killed me: us was history. 


Details | Free verse | |

White Trash Wedding

Shaving cream covers up the truck missing a left side window
Backyard lawn is freshly mowed folding chairs assembled
Trailer has been freshly scrubbed the scent of pine still lingers
Ready for the wedding day of Bubba James and Ginger

They’ve known each other all their lives even quit school together
Rumored that somehow their kin but that has yet been founded
Dated off and on for years come Spring a new arrival
Now she’s knocked up dressed in white, God help the child’s survival

The crowd has gathered to celebrate the union of this couple
Indeed a sight to for all to see two hands placed on the bible
Bubba James half drunk with shame with Ginger’s delicate condition
Say I do, a prayer is prayed, the party soon commences

Will their life bring happy times or a road of pure destruction
Pretty soon the child will come and test their own survival
Only God and fate can answer this too soon to draw conclusions
Just hope and pray for it’s too late to stop this white trash union
 

**This is not intended to offend anyone...just got an inspiration


Details | Rhyme | |

Fight of this Generation

As clouds move in,
A fight begins,

Inside my heart,
Is where it starts,

I see old faces, 
Chained to dark places,

Those who swore they would be better,
Those who believed they would hold their families together.

I see dead lives,
That can’t arise,

Fractures in their foundations,
They have destroyed their land with false sensations,

They do what they have learned from this so called life,
Stripped down by loveless fathers of abandonment and strife,

They yell and scream but can’t seem to move,
A generation that desperately wants to disprove,

The mistakes of the former one,
Yet they are bound by roots that make them run.

God have mercy, raise up your sons,
Teach them to face what they have become!

God have mercy,
Raise up our men,
Show them the cycle can be fixed once again.

God have mercy
Raise them up like you did for your son,
It is only by your power
we can change what has been done.

By; Sabina Nicole


Details | I do not know? | |

For Emily

An afternoon stroll with a friend on a heated day,
Her hair perfectly swaying to her giggle bounce
Holding her tummy, simply stating
“I have a baby on the way”

Hugs, kisses, dreams and wishes
For this Mrs
The sun shining inside and out
So lucky she felt that day, she has a baby on the way

Baby’s daddy holds mommy’s hand
Says thank you honey, I love you so much
Our baby is lucky to have your heart 
And I’m so blessed to wear your band

A visit to the doctor turned perfect joy into shock
You have cancer he told her
You won’t live with this life in you
Sit soon with your husband and have a talk

Hugs, kisses, dreams and wishes
For this Mrs.
The sun shines brightly on this day
Cause she still has her baby on the way

Her husband crying uncontrollable tears
Loving her so
He could never ever let her go
He can’t choose
he doesn’t want to lose
His wife or his child

She knew for her this baby was a voice
A wish she made so long ago
A wish come true
And there was no one telling her what to do
It was ultimately her decision, her choice

Six years have passed, and Emily asks,
“Daddy, when will I see mommy?”,
Today my sweet angel,
Today

Hugs, kisses, dreams and wishes
For this Mrs
The sun still shining on this day
as Emily kneels to pray
For mommy

Mommy had made her choice
And daddy still hurts so bad, he misses her smile, her touch
But he holds Emily today
with Mommy's light warming them both
His deep indescribable love for Emily sustains him
On her birthdays

Hugs, kisses, dreams and wishes
For Emily
The sun still shining on this day
her hair perfectly swaying to her giggle bounce,
as she plays, 


Details | Couplet | |

New Beginning

Introduction: It’s a piece dedicated to the lullaby of a different kind. It’s something which has happened to many out there, but the experience is distinctively significant…


A priceless surprise, silenced all in its tune By a soft heavenly cry, from the delivery room Only a few hours was the night; so young Where for the first time, she opened her eyes, While by her side her dearly loved one For the last time, closed her teary eyes Father held her near and resounded to her cry; But all mother could share was, this lullaby – The long last beep from the ECG Echoed her heartbeat…The last goodbye Happiness and sadness broke through the night With streams of tears for mother’s plight; She never had the chance to hold her close But left precious prayers that never left her side As she came down to their hearts Her soul flew up high apart, The transfer of two lives through one, Their journey was complete and done Caught within that reverie He conveyed the Azaan through her ears, In the wake of such irony He fell down to prostrate in tears When all hopes seemed to end, father’s prayer did transcend O’ Almighty became her closest friend and had for her a Grande plan, Under HIS mercy and HIS guide, she flourished through the darkest nights To a new beginning – she set off to write.


Details | Rhyme | |

Why

Here we go again, you yelling and my head doin spins.
Now both so loud…both tryin to win.
A battle not ment to be, between two who have something so unique;
Now hot biting lips and at times can’t speak.
B_tch is a word I try not to say, I know it burns but what else can I say
You choppin at me like a tree, molding me like clay.
Into who you see in front of you,
Doing stupid things I wouldn’t think to do.
But you know what “f__k this” “I can’t take it no more”
How strong can a man be, when he like nailed to the floor.
And you can take it how you wanna
Cuz that’s where we at right now,
Cuz don’t forget what you throwing
Also hitting like kapow!!!
When all I wanted to do…was just lay down.
So could you please just stop and think of this
You and I in this frantic twist.
All I want is my baby’s kiss.
Brainstorm…and imagine me,
Think of my eyes and what they see.
Something not working that used to be.


Details | Quatrain | |

To Bunkers And Bad Lies



...to Charlie Hebert, (RIP), my father-in-law,
    with respect and affection



Wind-swept and sunburnt alone on the fairway 
he fusses and frets with his lie; 
he's been here for ever commanding the course, 
ever since you and I were knee high. 

Golf is his passion, he lives and he breathes 
for the chance to play just one more round, 
replacing his divots, observing the rules 
and keeping his feet on the ground.

Always nattily dressed he is ready 
to tee up and go for the green; 
the young guns are anxious to unseat old Chuck, 
but he's crafty and wily and mean!

It's the day of the championship and he's all ready 
to teach these young men how to play; 
at the turn he's ahead with a three under par, 
he'll show them, he'll have the last say!

On the final hole two men are tied for the lead, 
they are edgy as each eyes the pin; 
Jim misses his putt, it goes wide to the left, 
and Charlie makes par for the win!

CODA

In the clubhouse they congratulate the old boy on his score, 
he thanks them from the bottom of his heart;
here's to Charlie then, to bunkers, to bad lies and to rain, 
to another shot at glory when he climbs aboard the cart!


Details | Rhyme | |

My Hero, He's gone!

You're gone now with sorrow in our hearts
Thought that we'd never be apart.
You were my hero in my life,
and now, I'm no longer, "your wife"!

How did this ever happened to you?
Though, deep down inside, I'm hurting too!
With us being married for ten years long,
If you'd realized, what you did, was wrong!

Now, I moved on with no baggage to claim,
How I did realize, I must have been insane!
We had good times together, of loving me,
but now, you're not here, I set you free!

As I sleep at nights, I dream of you too,
but tears drip down with sadness of you!
I pray for your soul to keep in safety,
My prayers were answered, now I can see!


Details | Blank verse | |

OUR HOUSE MAID'S DAUGHTER

I looked one more time at the scar
on her pretty forehead.
Our house-maid’s sweet little daughter.
She is just four years old.

Endured many scares and black scars
along with mother, so bold
facing tantrums of sot-father.
She is just four years old.

Today came she with news to share.
With puerile fervor told
“Becomes bride my father’s sister!”
She is just four years old.

“He is as strong as a wild boar
good groom; not a drunkard.”
Shocked; saw those deeper inner scars.
She is just four years old.