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Prose Poetry Dad Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Dad

These Prose Poetry Dad poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Dad. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Dad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"

Copyright © Perry Campanella

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You may feel down,
Feeling like giving up
But you must rise forth,
And continue to move forward
Move in faith towards your purpose;
It may feel painful now
But your purpose is being;
Formed through your pains
You shall soon see it was;
Worth it.

Copyright © Phillimon Sefake

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Missing the Man in the Hat

It was early one morning, when you arrived..
You entered the restaurant and I noticed your stride..
Your manner of dress was quite elegant.. and ..
It appeared you were having breakfast...
With a very important guest..
Seated at the table, and I couldn’t help but notice,
The strange thing you did , when you removed from your purse..  
An old and tattered faded hat..
You took it lovingly in your hands and..
Proceeded to give it a kiss..
As you placed it across from where you sat...
I knew it belonged to someone you missed..
Then you did something strange...
You did a smile and a wink.. 
Poured two cups and I began to think....
Perhaps the car was being parked,
And soon your friend would join you..
As I sat and watched you seemed to be...
Engrossed in a conversation...
The twinkle in your eyes and the smile on your face..
Sent the message you were in a happy place...
Then you got out of your chair...and hugged the air..
And left the same way you came...but ..
I heard you say as you walked away..
Same time..same place next year ?

Copyright © kj force

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Happy Father's Day: Your Sweat Is My Increase

your left hand was hard, but your right, gracious putting me in the balance of Love of which its fulcrum is discipline and respect. Your weaknesses were classified just to ensure I see beyond mine Your chastisement was not without pain of which its appreciation is a strong indicator of my gradual maturity. You always guard the gates of my territory like a Centurion and fight against all antigens like a warlock. You taught me how to be complete and provided the staff and Ass as I journey across Life and appreciate. I initially thought of you differently when you gave me the partially made sandal, when you refused to help with the air-tight metal box, when you gave me bone while milk was still my best delicacy when you laughed at me while I'm confused and worst of all, stopping Mum to come to my rescue. I never knew they were task of Life I most needed, finishing off the sandal made me industrious, opening the box, made me determined and never relenting, chewing the annoying bone made me grow up; your scorn and laughter actually made me decisive and rescuing myself made me independent. All these sum up to making me a MAN! Which makes you my Hero and role model. Before I was, there was you; in fact, I am in existence because of you. I've always clinged unto you as my Life's support but you allow me make my mistakes so as to be the best gadget. Your regulation of Mum's affections only makes me be an unspoilt egg. I always increase when you sweat and your headaches are stepping stones to my zeniths. You are such an irreplaceable asset and your love, so refreshing as the evening air. What more can I say and how else can I show gratitude? As much as I know, you need none of these, One thing I must always say is, I LOVE YOU DAD!

Copyright © Funom Makama

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lucky I Guess Part I

Today was the big day! I bought a scratch-off ticket two days ago and won $25,000.00! Can
you imagine that? Me, a lonely unemployed nobody, strikes it rich. Yee-Hah! So, I'm off to the
lottery collections agency to cash in my lucky windfall. The polite gentleman handed me
the necessary forms. I feverishly completed them and within 36 minutes was awarded my
check. Wow! Me, a single, unrecognized nobody, is clutching a mild fortune. 
“Zippety-Do-Dah!” Whistling a happy tune, I venture home. Three blocks before reaching my
domicile, I spotted a young lad on the corner of Clark Street and 9th Avenue. He was
sitting on the cold concrete playing with an energetic puppy - yet, he was crying. "Hey,
kid, that's a beautiful puppy you've got." The young boy looked up at me and stammered:
"He's not my puppy, Mister. I found him here in the street a little while ago. The doggie
has no home." My heart skipped two beats. "Where do you live, son?" The tearful boy
crooked his head towards a dilapidated house two lots away from the corner of Clark
Street. I didn't think anyone lived there. I paused for a second and then:

"Hey, Mister? Do you have an extra quarter?" I was speechless for a moment. 
"Excuse me,, do you have a dime or a quarter? I have two quarters in my pocket. 
If I get one more I can buy the puppy a can of dog food at the corner store." Containing a smile, 
I lost my breath. I regained my wits and asked: "Would your Mom and Dad approve of you 
having a puppy?" The young lad kept his head down and replied: "Well, my Dad is dead.
But I know my Mom would like this puppy. It's just that my Mom can't walk and, um...
I take care of her and, um...we really wouldn't have enough money to take 
care of a dog, anyways." My heart was breaking. "What's your name son?"
I didn't understand who's tears I was envisioning - his or mine.
"Charlie, Mister." "My name's, Charlie."


For: Carol Brown
I Hepled The Needy contest
(This is Part I of the story)

Copyright © Kory Calhoun

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My Annie Dedicated for the Belief of My Adoptive Mom and Dad

. .. ... .. . . . Funny as I remember now - I went out to the animal shelter to-rescue my little Annie one day- some time not to long ago; and-from outside, on my way in I saw her - and as I walked-in and looked-around, I asked-to-God, "What-kind of- day is it going to be-for me-today?" and then in that moment, I saw her again, and she was cute, as a button-a very fun and-smashing, playful; innocent-young-lady, this tender little girl - and I new I was going to bring-a new light, into her tired-and-lonely and- vacant, quiet-little-world - and as I heard this-shy yet eager, raspy-little-meow-from behind this-pen she-was-sitting in - I walked over to have a look see; and there she was looking up at me - "My little kitten Annie!" - with-twinkling and starry-eyes and a warmness-and-passion for-life I could-have-never-imagined - (nor have-ever; ignored) and so I reached-down-and picked-up... the-kindnesses-of my- soul - and the-simple touch-on my-skin of her-warm fur, was of- the sensation of the purest beauty, I had never-known, and as she placed-her cool-nose and a soft-little paw... on the-lips of my-face - we looked at each-other... a quiet-while with such an-intense - and simple-feeling - you know that feeling-you-have when to get-to-hold the one-thing you have long-for so-long... to hold - finally you know you-couldn't have asked for more. So-yes-it's funny-to me; what God brings to the weary soul, a love- and-loss so-unique and precious; opportunistic... . Always I'm coming to find-offered to everyone; given to all as-its-own-equal... ! It's been some years and-sadly, gone-from-me-now she-is... but I know as my- heart is-hers and-hers mine I know-we'll-never be-apart... ! I had a little kitten-named-Annie one day some time-ago, and oh how I loved to hold her, because she rescued me from my tired-and-lonely; vacant; quiet-little-world. Author Notes Inspire by the greatest of all the plays I have ever seen, and as I was an orphan myself early on in my years - and was as well adopted - I went to see it five times in three years as a child. My new parents took me without recourse or woe-yes, the play-well of course, it was little orphan "Annie!" Hyphens used in conjunction with one another for recording purposes for the disabled. Songs I give for my Mom and Dad. Thank you both so much, truly I feel I can never thank you enough! Love Jamie

Copyright © James Long

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Joseph was chosen by God himself,
To be the Father of His Son on earth.
He prayed in the temple and asked,
Why me, what is my worth?

Jesus honored his earthly father,
Did what He was told.
Lived his youth as a carpenter,
As was custom in days of old.

We never knew the love,
 Of a father and his son.
His quiet manner and what he said,
Were not always the same as one.

There is no penalty,
For not knowing a father's love.
He lives a life mysterious,
So we turn to God above.

There is no reward for fatherhood,
No medals, plaques or praise.
Just a world of responsibility, 
For a family he must raise.

A father must be an example,
Be charitable, strong and true.
Reverent to his Lord,
Pass these traits on to you.

The sacred books are full of quotes,
Of what a father should be.
But we are only human,
Our errors visible for all to see.

So as this Father's Day approaches,
A child must determine what it is.
Did we teach you love and honor,
Is God your guide, are you one of His?

May your children show you honor,
May they love you for who you are.
May you be proud to have this family,
Whether they be near or far.


Copyright © Raymond Morgan

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mum's Hero

Mum, you bought me shoes, socks and a football kit,

'You were willing me to see me as your ‘hero’.

Fifteen years have passed away,

I still have your gift that you bought for me on Christmas. 


Your son is a really hero, have you seen me,

I am top scorer as you can read in the local newspaper,

When I kissed my first trophy, my tears poured out, 

My friends thought that I am crying in happiness.


Mum, have you remembered me? 

As I know, I always missed your shadow,

I go to the pond every week, 

Where you fed the birds and spent hours with them. 


You never come to learn, 

How your son spent days, weeks and years.

Perhaps you don’t know, dad also left me, 

When you went out, he ran after you. 


I saw his picture in a newspaper,

When I grew up a little, I heard from my carer,

Your dad died in an accident,

Have you come to attend his funeral? 


I learnt when he left church nobody was behind him,

Only service that he received has been delivered,

I went often to kiss his stone, as I found him,

Few days ago it was a fathers day. 


When I join my mate’s birthdays, 

I saw their parents curdling them with gifts.

They dance and laugh, enjoy food and drink,

I feel loneliness and lost myself in puffs of smoke. 


Always I got drunk but never forgot that incident,

When you tried to stop dad, not to drink more,

He pushed and slapped you strongly,

I saw blood touching your feet. 


You don’t know, I also ran after you,

Door slammed shut, road was icy and frozen,

I hit a stone and fell conscious on the street,

When I found myself, I was in a hospital bed.


Mum, is your face looking the same as before?

How will I recognise you if I met you suddenly?

I am sure mum. You will recognise me,

At last I am your son as same as I am Dad’s. 

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana

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Wishing you could love me too

You mean so much to me, more then you'll ever know. 
More then ill ever be able to describe.
But I'll try.
Voice of a angel, touch ever so soft you would think its a feather.
Eyes so beautiful seeing them on a sunset day, medusa stare ever so hypnotizing locking eyes can't look away.
Baby in the tummy, heart just started beating giving me a rush that I really needed.
Love so old I feel defeated.
Even though I do everything for you, I'm looking out for me just keeping a close over view upon you.
How can I fix your life if mine isn't alright, but i don't know where id ever be with out you by my side.
And I thought I'd never know but as of now I'm pushing through. 
Now that your gone, I miss you every night.
But I gotta be strong.
Cause if not you'll be gone and ill be with a baby missing its mom.

Copyright © Mark Ramon

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What a Dad Should Be

What a Dad Should Be.
Steve L. Siegel
July, 2015
In case you didn’t know this, 
A Dad should be always a bit radical…
He should love you even more when you’re unlovable
Hug you tighter when you’re un-huggable
And bear you most when you’re un-bearable…
Oh yes, a Dad should be the world’s most fanatic…
He should love you when the world boos you
He’d want to dance with you when you give him any good news
Know that he’ll be crying with you when you cry to…
The thing most of all a Dad should be a mathematician…
He has be able to multiply the joy, divide the sorrow,
Subtract the past; and add all of the tomorrows,
Calculate the deep needs within your heart,
Lastly always be bigger than all the sums of their parts…
P.S. To my loving daughter Tammy who together we went to AA.
Both still sober after twenty years now. We made it!

Copyright © Steven Siegel

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           HABEAS CORPUS

My daughter writes
Where are you Dad?
 When'll you come ?
Who builds walls between us ?
Even if you come , how will I
Recognisze you ?
Blood simmers-
I was safe in mamma's belly
The day you stepped down
With accompaniments
Mamma lost her sense
Today, my ninth birthday
No cakes , candles and guests
Where are you ?

Parents meeting in school
I stood alone embarrassed
My Miss holding me,kissing on cheeks
Friends say
You are behind bars
Is it Dad ?
All relatives swear my birth
Am I that doom'd
Tell me Dad !

Mamma weeps often
Looking at railroads
Down our flat
Says nothing-

My daughter writes 
When will you come
Where are you


Details | Prose Poetry | |


it was tree night
under blinking light
at christmas
was not dust
they held hands
at the gifts stand
i coundn't miss

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr

Details | Prose Poetry | |


you know and more
on that day
we here them say
if theyer bad
thats sad
there be no gifts  for the stiff
and the christmas tree
tho theyer heavenly
so many kids being had

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr

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Two things you don't want

Two things you don't want		9.1.15

If I appeared slightly under the weather
     or if he just wanted a little fun, 	
my dad would ask if I had
     the cholerie morbus*.
If not that
     maybe the heebie jeebies.

Neither sounded like 
     a real ailment.	
I thought he'd conjured up	
     the maladies – "Oh, Daddy."

Do you suppose he knew?

Had he read that President Zachary Taylor 
     died suddenly of cholera morbus in 1850.

Maybe he picked the term 'heebie jeebies'
     from the 1926 Louis Armstrong song of the same title.

We'll never know.
     After he asked I felt better
He made my little bouts brief.	

I think my dad, the finest of men,
     simply enjoyed the sound of 'cholerie morbus'
and 'heebie jeebies'.
     He loved to gently tease and was full of good humor.

*My dad always said "cholerie morbus", not "cholera morbus", which is "acute gastroenteritis occurring in summer and autumn and marked by severe cramps, diarrhea, and vomiting. No longer in scientific use." Sounds too awful for him to have known what it was.

Copyright © Gay Stuntzner

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My Dad

My Dad
By Curtis Johnson

In all appearances, his feet were firmly planted in our southern home town
It seemed clear that daddy’s life was fixed and fashioned  on the grounds of Dixie
But I’m also certain, there were times I heard his heart beating a different sound

A hard working dad and a stay-at-home mom: all respectables
A live-in grand mom, obedient children, and a dog name jack,                                                                              a quiet place for kids to live, grow, and thrive: all commendables
Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation: all predictables
Church, school, work, and information: all expectables

Yes, stability was the real McCoy in my family.  Everything and everybody,
Like the steady ticking of a clock, stayed basically the same day after day.
Sameness was a staple; newness was rare; change is what we longed for.

A change of place, to explore the human race
A change of pace, to catch the sands of time
A change of faze, to rise to higher levels
A change of ways, to reach new destinies
A change of plans, to find our purpose
A change of focus, to chart our course

Yes, change is what our hearts were longing for
We knew that ‘sameness’ was always given the more
But we also knew that ‘change’ would someday
Come a knocking at our door

It may be true that daddy’s feet were fashioned, fixed, and planted
Perhaps he was dreaming, and in his mind, he saw something more
It seemed for sure that his soul was charting a different course,
Because we often heard him say, “I’m going out west where the
Eagles build their nest”.

I do not know if my dad was being poetic, or if he really desired
A different land.   But I do believe that he was longing for change
And I believe that daddy longed  for a fresh touch of God’s hands
And I believe that his soul was uttering, “I’m longing to know the
Master’s plan.

Copyright © curtis johnson

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Playin' Catch


Mom and Dad would have the car packed the night before we left,
the station wagon filled with all the essentials we'd need for our
extended camping trips. Dad always made sure I had my ball glove
ready for rest stop breaks. This was my favorite anticipated time of
the trip!... when we would stop, Dad would tell me to grab my glove, 
but I was already out the door, lookin' for a clear stretch of grass to
throw with him. Dad had the same glove all through the years, an
old, beat up version that didn't have much padding. I used whatever
glove I was currently using for the team I was playing on, either
a present from him, or a gift, sometimes from a coach. Dad wanted 
me to start throwin' easy, as his eyesight wasn't all that sharp, and 
he needed to limber-up first, and focus on the 'heat!' I was tossin'.
I remember he would always encourage and compliment me on my
improvement since the last time we threw!. Our trip out west, "Custer's
Last Stand"...Yellowstone National Park".... our trips to "Itasca State Park"
and "Tettegouche State Park" always settin' aside time to "play-catch".

In time, Dad couldn't follow the thrown ball very good, and I remember 
when he told me he couldn't "play-catch" any more; by then I was
playin' varsity ball in high school, and Dad would come watch me play.
I always still brought his old glove and favorite 'rubber-coated' baseball
along on outings, so he wouldn't think I didn't remember he was 
still my hero, whether he could throw or not. I treasure those moments
now, and always try to 'play-catch' with the little cousins of mine, 
encourage and compliment them on their improvement,

.......since the last time we 'played-catch'


Copyright © James Marshall Goff

Details | Prose Poetry | |

For Taylor

We've got anchors
1,200 miles away but we're mirror opposites
anchors to hold us down from floating away
or anchors to hold fast with a sinking ship
we've taken on water for sure
but that doesn't mean we're destined
for the bottom of the ocean

a father who was never there
and ended your relationship with a shotgun
and then there's me
a phone call away I'm too chicken hearted to make
with his faults and mine on full display
together we make a fine homage to
failures and mistakes

we've got anchors
a dozen states away but I've got mine
and you've got yours
I've sank in the shallowest of hearts and waters
I just hope you can steer away from the shallows
and become who we all know you can be
the ocean is no place for you girl

he was my brother once
I can still remember his silhouette
against the setting sun in the 
heart of summer
playing the only game he could feel in his heart
I swore sixteen years ago
I wouldn't end the same way
and now that I've ruined more than my life
I'm positive I made a mistake and spoke too soon

We've got anchors
I let mine sink me
I just hope you dont' make the same mistake

So this is for Taylor, my brothers daughter. Read "For Collin" to get the jist

Copyright © K.M North

Details | Prose Poetry | |


dad what you done
my repect you won
you show me the way
and what to say
this is your day
am so glad
your the best akid ever had
this is a

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr