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Ballad Dad Poems | Ballad Poems About Dad

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

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Details | Ballad |


I am not a father
Nor I am a mother
I am just a daughter
That is growing better...

Father, you have been away
I truly wish you have stayed
Hugging me as I lay
I don't need much penny...

All I have been missing is you my daddy
Your love and your real company...

Look, how I am now
I pursued my little vow
Hoping always, You'll be proud
It's alright if you'll not be loud...

All I want is for us to bond...

Yes, I am neither a kid nor a child
Ever anymore
But still, there is that longing
I cannot deny...

I miss you much, daddy...



Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

Veterans day, My Dad served

Note not sent To My Dad on Veteran’s Day:
A letter you wrote , I found
in Old Uncle Laurie’s house.
You were young, Seventeen
You wrote of things to come

And fear
And your new car.
Nam ate your soul
Stupid war, Johnson’s shout at glory.
Our beautiful hero died too young
The damn war never would’ve come
If  Their  machine hadn’t killed him.
Johnson’s summon
Answered their call
Over the

Voodoos and Jesus nuts
Medic up, man down
Punjis and pissed pants
Wet and rotting stench
You came home.  But did you come back?


Copyright © Dan Helppi | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

My Father, My Hero

He was my hero when I was a child, 
His way with words were never harsh, always mild. 

He taught me how to live and have a pure heart, 
This he showed me from the very start. 

I felt he was too easy because he never took a stand, 
But as I grew older, I realized that's what he planned. 

He needed to be caring and the parent that would listen, 
Each time I spoke to him, his eyes would always glisten. 

Now that I am a mother and have a daughter myself, 
I learned from him how to make her feel special, never just on the shelf. 

He showed me how to be very good hearted sometimes, too much, 
But it helped me to keep my loved ones close in my clutch.

Each day that passes I realize what he helped me become, 
I'll always be full of love and emotions, never numb. 

My hero is my father but he passed away, 
I will always love you and I miss you everyday.

Copyright © Debra Baviello | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

The Ones I Have Lost

As I go through my day, they are by my side, 
Following me, watching me and also being my guide. 

These are the angels of my loved ones that passed, 
When I know their near me,  I want this feeling to last. 

I never had much family, separated by distance, 
Sometimes I felt like my world was of non-existence. 

The few I loved so much and held so dear, 
My grandfather, grandmother and father are no longer here.

But when I smell my dads cologne or hear grandmas voice in my ears, 
I hold in my heart their near me and it rids me of fears. 

I certainly must say there is not a day that goes by, 
That I do not think of them and softly cry. 

I always pray that they will visit me while I sleep, 
Dreaming of them is a wonderful feeling that goes so deep. 

I'll miss you everyday until I am no longer on earth,
When I see you all again, it will be like a rebirth.

Copyright © Debra Baviello | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

I was raised on a little old farm

I was raised on a little old farm

by my daddy who raised pigs in a barn

my mama  well what can I say

she helped my daddy on our farm everyday.

I have two sister and two brothers

we tried to always help out one other

it was just a simple life when I was raised in the 50s.

I was raised on a little old farm

we plowed our corn fields with our old gray tractor.

because our pigs had to be feed

we shucked off lots of corn 

 to put way in old corn  shed.

As hard as my daddy worked everyday

mama and him taught us good

values that still stays with all of this

to this day.

I was raised on a little old farm

my daddy worked as a Iron worker in the day

but on some days after daddy got home 

he worked and added rooms to our old home.

Money was tight while raising 5 kids

but mama always seem to keep us all fed.
But we knew everyday mama and daddy loved us even if the 

words[ I love you] was not offen said.

I was raised on a little old farm

in the winter we took time to ice skate

in the back field  on a swampy like pond.

it was great living on a long dirt road

with our neighbors the Boggs who had 
seven children of there own.

I was raised on a little old farm

and I am going to try to tell daddy story's

about or farm life to each grandchild in the

family that is born.

I hope you enjoyed this poem

because soon we well be selling 

our childhood home.

I was raised on a little old farm.

2015 by charlotte

Copyright © SHARLOTTE NEWAN | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

My Life

surrounded by walls 
no where to go
walls are closing in
no more air flow

no one can hear you
like your never there
no one can help
no one is there

kicking and screaming
yelling for help
mom sits and watches
while dad grabs his belt

mom doesn't say anything
until dad leaves
she doesn't care
at least I didn't believe

this always happened 
every single night
mom just sat and watched
without putting up a fight

going to school
with new bruises every day
teachers always asked
I blew their help away

knowing if I told
it would only get worse
begging on my knees
for him not to immerse

just laying there as time passed by
watching myself get beat
I just thought to myself
one day I'll be back on my feet

the time had finally come
many years after
I finally stood up for myself
it never happened thereafter

Copyright © cortni basford | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

How the West Was Won

When he emigrated to North Dakota
Daddy came to help fill needed quota
Of young, strong men of honest worth
For untamed land at its new birth.

He met my mother, strong as he,
Raised seven kids including me.
He broke wild mustangs to the halter
And from cold or heat would never falter.

The settlers in this brand new land
Weren’t looking for the wild cow-hand,
The drifter who’d collect his pay,
Then casually be on his way.

Some would then join an outlaw band,
Before the law came to the land. 
Though their kind earned infamous glory,
Men like my dad were the real story.

North Dakota had only been a state,
Ten years when Daddy tested fate.
He left Eastern standards and aesthetics,
Armed only with his strong work ethics.

He and his kind would build the schools,
And churches and towns and follow rules.
It took big men to build the west.
I claim my dad one of the best.

He homesteaded in nineteen hundred one
And that is how the west was won.

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |


I sometimes sit and wonder, dad are you with me? and are you sad?
I think of the time I had with him here on earth
He was a this frail, little man who loved the Lord 
He certainly did all he could, he loved yellow for he stood out in a crowd
My dad was a wonderful person and friend
You just had to do for him, he was always so happy and never sad
To have some help from time to time, he loved you to come see him
He was a true man of God
He went to church and gave all he had
He never had extravagant things
He loved the basics of having furniture and clothes
When I gave him the rocking chair for Fathers Day in 2008,
Little did I know he was getting ready to leave this earth
I remember being so very happy to see, the smile on his face
When I would come near
The thing I am trying to express for all of us is  to love your fathers and
Give them your trust
For you never know that this little man from God in yellow 
He may still be sitting in the church he loved. 
I remember always my father he was, the light of my life and now he is with the
Lord above
Love your fathers and let them know that you truly love them so.....

Copyright © Laurel Larison | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |

Mixed Emotions

Today is my Birthday
I should be okay

But, 3 years ago you went away
Being my Dad I wanted you to stay,

It is Happy and Sad on this day
Now you are gone what can I say,

I smile and tell myself I'm okay
But, deep inside I am in dismay,

I feel torn on how I may
Should be feeling and in what way,

So I try to be happy and not stray
That yes it is my Birthday and it is the day God took you away.

Written By: Unique Poetry 12-17-15

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

With This New Day

I have lived, 
And felt the cost, 
Paid my dues, 
But I have lost_ You. 

 Still I pray, 
As chaos looms, 
And as my blue turns into grey, 
I hear__ 
The angels sing- In tune. 

 Don't be giving in, 
Don't give up my son, 
Or fade away, 
Lift your chin with the sun__ And rise, 
With this new day!. 

 I have lived, 
And felt the cost of all my wonderin ways, 
I've paid my dues, 
I - Have lost you. 

 I can hear the angels sing, 
Your in a mistaken land__ Lessons learned in truth, 
As the grey seeks out the blue, 
She will__ Your daughter my son--- 
She will return--- To You.

For I have lived, 
Felt the cost of all my walkin days, 
I've paid my dues, 
I- Lost you....

I wont be giving in, 
Won't give up my girl, 
Or fade away, 
I'll lift my chin with the sun--- 
And RISE-- 
With this new day...

Copyright © Ryan Harris | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |



If only we could have you back dad
Just for one more day
To hold you in our arms once more
Before you went away

To tell you how we love you
How we know you loved us too
How no man in this world
Will ever take the place of you

Dad you were our anchor
Our rock, our shining knight 
The man we all depend upon 
And love with all our might 

Always we will picture you
Sitting in your chair
Coffee, paper, football...
How we wish you were still there

Whenever you were told
Another grandchild’s on the way
The frown upon your face 
Spoke the words you’d never say

But when each newborn grandchild
In your loving arms was placed
The look of unconditional love 
Was there upon your face

Precious memories linger
And tears will gently flow
For the granddad with the sweets
For the Granddad who never said no

Always there for each of us
You always made us smile
And knowing we were happy
Seemed to make your life worthwhile

You filled our lives with happiness
We filled your heart with pride
But now we walk this unknown path
Without you by our side 

Those who never met you
Will feel they know you too
For part of you will live in us
In everything we do

Forever we will miss your voice
Your laugh, your smiling face
Forever we will miss the dad
We never will replace

It’s hard to let you go dad
For we never said goodbye
Now you’re an Angel in God’s Heaven
High above the sky

But sometimes when we’re all alone
And feel all hope is gone
I know we’ll hear you whisper
"Kids just smile...and carry on”...

We love you dad...
Always have...
Always will...

Copyright © Raina Hutchins | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |


The old man and his grandson viewed 
A barren bladeless ground. 
When to his left the young lad's eye 
Saw bleached bones scattered 'round. 
'Twas more than one beast's bones that lay 
There exposed to the sun. 
It seemed more like a battlefield 
Where only death had won. 
The old man saw the young lad wince, 
He reined in close behind. 
As memories of what took place 
Came flooding through his mind. 
A century turned, but not his luck, 
For rains had failed again. 
He slowly watched the dams dry up 
While cattle died in pain. 
A little water still remained 
Though sought by feral stock. 
Some brumbies which came down at dawn 
Still often used the block. 
In good times no one cared that much, 
But not so any more. 
The young lad's dad and this old man 
Both knew what lay in store. 
A high log fence closed off the dam, 
The timber they had sawn. 
Suspended gate it lay in wait 
For piccaninny dawn. 
Then as the last mare ambled through 
Wood gate it dropped like lead. 
A wood rail race seemed their escape, 
But death lurked there instead. Their capital had all dried up, 
No cash for lead and gun. 
To execute the feral stock 
Took knife and old man's son. 
With legs astride the wood rail race 
Son grimaced as he drew 
That blade of death 'cross jug'lar vein, 
Then slapped the victim through. 
Each fleet foot spirit faltered there 
A hundred yards away, 
While blazing eyes showed fear of death, 
Mouths gave a weakened neigh. 
Then one by one their weak frames fell 
Onto the dusty ground. 
The racing hearts of those poor beasts 
Then gave their final pound. 
The slaughter did not save the stock 
For all the dams went dry. 
It fin'ly broke the old man's son, 
He watched the grown man cry. 
All this the old man told the lad, 
The picture was now drawn. 
On why his dad then took his life 
One piccaninny dawn. 

The young lad then took from his head
his father's sweat stained hat
And as he wiped the tears away
He said, Gramps thanks for that."
I'd always had my doubts you see
About the way Dad died,
But now I know the truth at last
I'll wear this hat with pride.

Copyright © Merv Webster | Year Posted 2005

Details | Ballad |

Dear Dad

It is now twenty years
I still recall the tears
I still recall the shame
Dad you are to blame
I know this you did not expect
You will call it disrespect
sorry but you I respect.

Dad I remember
The memories fresh in my calendar
Her tears and pain imprinted in my heart
Dad my mother you did hurt
As a good woman she played her part
She never ever set your heart apart.

when we did good I and brother
we were as bright as the father
when we did wrong I and brother
we were as foolish as our mother
so we were beaten like our mother
she wiped our tears
she ended our fears.

Dear dad here I am
Growing into a man
will it please you
when I beat my wife too
will it please you
when I call my wife a fool too
will it please you
when my children never call me dad
I find this hard dad.

Dad that woman you called a fool
she taught me to respect women in full
she taught me that a woman
Is a necessity to a man
she taught me never
To lay a hand on a woman ever
Dad this foolish wife
Taught me how to love in my life

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |






Copyright © robert ray | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ballad |

My Criminal Past

It’s all too much
I try and try 
yet things just don’t 
happen right
for me

Just when I think
situations may just
turn around

Out of the blue
it comes to haunt me
My criminal past  

Years ago 
I was in a store 
trying on a red scarf 
around my neck
wanting to be
to myself
for a moment

When my father called 
and I fell to the floor
I remembered everything

I guess I walked out
not realizing
I still wore
the scarf

And so they took me 
that day
they took me
in chains

Removed me
without respect
not as a child-like
a damaged soul
someone in need
of repair

But rather, as a criminal

Yet, I was the victim
not the perpetrator

I was hit 
with the truth 
by my father 
on the phone
that day
in the store
while trying on
the red scarf

I saw it all in pictures 
and it didn’t stop
for days

Even so, 
I lost 
the little place 
I lived
due to 
My criminal past

While my 97 year old 
“father” lives on,
I sleep all the time
am hurt 
all over again
remembering it all

For some
inexplicable reason
I felt it my responsibility 
to tell the man
who owned my little home 
to convey to him 
why I was a criminal 
and how it came to be  

I took a chance

Because I did that
I chose to reveal that thing
that was so secret
and hurt myself so gravely
that no one 
has mercy on me now

Out of luck,
there was no escaping

How can I break free
from all that binds me
that tethers me
to these pictures

I long to grow up
like other girls
with clean lives
But my criminal past
is a chain
around my ankle

As I wait 
for that moment
of transformation,
I wretch my guts out
and can’t stop 

Copyright © Melody Sokolow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

from a father to be

I grew up without a father,
never dealing with it inside
only getting used to the absence
bt the lack did not subside.
i never learnt to fix whats broken
never learnt to be a man
never learnt to swim or sail
never thought i really can.

My father left me only fear
that i was now incompetent
to be the father he was not
to have a child, im hesitant.
But still hope withers not away
that i could be so blessed one day
to hold a gift given by God
and live to have a family.

My father left me only fear
that i might abandon my own
but children i hold very dear
and wish they not be left alone,
to fend for themselves without the guide
but have a father to be shown.
To those who, appreciate
your fathers heart, its not too late
this day is just a reminder,
 that those who have fathers
life treated kinder.

Copyright © Naldeem Bout | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

The Truth About My Mother

I would love to start of my poem about my mom, using words that refer to us having a bond,
However, words like embarrassment, hurt and definitely other words come to mind that are not so fond,

These are the words that come to mind when I tell about the woman who raised me,
As I continue to explain about her, you will see why I always wanted to flee.

She was the type of mom that always made me feel ugly inside and out,
She did not enjoy seeing me happy but preferred seeing me cry and pout.

I was humiliated, screamed at, hit, belittled and more,
I even had my stuff in my bedroom thrown to the floor.

She told me everything was my fault and that I did nothing right,
I hated to wake up in the morning and see the daylight.

We watched my father grow ill and I prayed she would change,
Instead it made her more cruel and more deranged.

My father was ill for many years and I knew why he was afraid to say goodbye,
All he worried about was my mother and this made me cry.

My husband decided it was time to let him pass the right way,
By making a promise we would take care of mom, sadly he passed away the next day.

We are now doing the right thing by upholding our words we said,
Even though deep inside the pain causes me to cry to sleep in bed.

My mother has humbled, maybe she has seen the light,
Or maybe knowing our sacrifices is always in her sight.

We will be building an upstairs for her to live, her own entrance she will need,
My promise to my dad I will fulfill, I say he'll be proud of me, in God's Speed.

I pray at night to give me faith because I hope my mom will be better,
I want to be able to share it with everyone in a poem or a, letter.

If she does not change and continues to remain the same,
I still say I did the right thing and there is no one to blame.

Debra Baviello

This poem is dedicated to my father. I miss him so much.

Copyright © Debra Baviello | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

This note

Men sweat for sweet
lose not the heat
Keep your head in the beat
Life is not milk from a tit
That you suck with smiles
Engage your brain to go long miles.

In world we wander
Be not a mediocre
Aim beyond the sky
For you die
Time is short
Waste it not.

When of age
Tame your rage
Keep in check your ego
Know people
Sober might mean madness
Be harmless.

To greatness
when you get this note
I might be here not
Read between the lines
will lead you to mines

when you find love
Open your eyes all you have
Trust IF its worth it
Son this note heed it.
when it's your turn to live.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

miracle on 131st

remember those days we sat 
over looking railroad tracks 
picking up rusty metal E's
while collecting long cattails 
to burn keeping the mosquitos 
at bay while my eyes were 
dazzled by lightening bugs 
we'd catch placing them 
in mason jars sometimes 
my cousin would put them 
on my ears for glamorous jewels
i fancied that as we sat reciting 
hymms humming throughout 
langley street leading straight to 
our lady of the gardens entrance way 
funny how long four o'clock took
opening her flowers right at mass 
the gentle way you tended 
to my scars on my knees 
after a long run of hill deal 
at george washington carver school 
retrieving golf balls just to tee off 
before big momma called us 
for dinner i was so young then 
our time will never end you were all that i had 
much more than that you were my dad

Copyright © Yolanda Jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

For my father

What amount of tears would bring you back ?
I know there is no
But the tears comes any way
In fast drops,
That chases one another down my chicks.
I know,
No amount of tears would bring you back
But I just say too much
Because my dreams depended on you
I can’t stand that you are gone 
I am so sad I dint see you around when I was growing up
That you have left my mother a widow
And my children won’t see you
I wish I knew you were going to go
I would play with only you

Copyright © Francesca Almonds | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |


My daddy is a big hotty
With energetic strong body
Mashallah! Sometimes bit naughty
Even more awesome witty

We talked and chat a few
In a website I found and choose
He said he is tall
Yet for me his height bit small

He said I'm his baby
I don't mind as his my daddy
He as sweet as any candy
His looks likes a dandy

Been a year we share
Of anything we talk dare
Though, events seems unfair
Really, to him I care

Twix that's his chocolate
I bought and tried to ate
With sweet caramel inside
With him he sets me a side

To when, I can see him real
That, I can't know and feel
All I know we made a deal
That, Insha'Allah we meet heel to heel

By: olive_eloi

NOTE: INsha'allah -  God's willing

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

What is Christmas

 What is Christmas
Christmas time is here the smell of the Pine needles from the tree.the never ending twinkle in the kids eyes glistening off strand after strand of twinkle lights and ice sickles.
Stockings Stuffed full of Christmas cheer and wishes from kids around the world grandma baking her cookies for Santa mom making her favorite red and green rice crispy treats for the kids and don't forget grandad sitting in his rocking chair telling us stories of when he was a kid and Christmas past. For each of us Christmas is different we all have our own traditions. But one thing we all share is Love forgiveness and the willingness to look past all the bad a year had brought to you and for this 1 day We are friends family and wish the best to each other Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night !
Written Bye Shawn A Pry

Copyright © Shawn Pry | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |


To the king of the jungle
To the lion in the den
To the roar that calms d the uproar
To the strong rock that wasn't moved by the  storm that moves the trees 
To the gently moving water that dug deep holes on the foot of the hills
To you my father, the big fish that is never caught up in the trap. 

To the one that has not, yet made the rich
To the one that has not yet gave all to the needy
To one that served and still serving 
To the powerless that serves powerfully
The oasis in the desert 
To the voiceless that gave his voice to the street
To the sky that gave its light to the earth. 
To the harmless that gave alms to them a lot. 

To the head that raised us and shed the strands till he went bald. 

All praise and hail my father 
Celebrate with him in his new age
Happy birthday dear father. 
You might not be the best of fathers,
But you gave us ur level best and left none behind. Sure you are better than the rest. 
Happy birthday Dad


Copyright © Olufemi Oloye | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Happy Anniversary

Tossing and turning,
you try to fall asleep,
freezing and burning,
you even counted sheep!

You wake up in the morning,
and you fix yourself some eggs,
you get some kind of warning,
there are children pulling on your legs!

Mom and Dad I love you,
i hope your life is great,
cause you still have a lot to do,
with all these routines on your plate!

Happy Anniversary, I love you!

Copyright © Kathrine Robins | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ballad |

Nobodys Child But mine

Nobody’s child but mine, He wasn’t wanted, Except by me
He was born so strong, Should have been two, Oh what a joy
This child of mine, Ten tiny fingers , Ten tiny toes too, That child of

He warmed my heart from that moment on, That child of mine .
I lost his dad, He didn’t want to know, That child of mine .

He was sick , Born that way, That child of mine .
Smiles and laughter that lit up a room, That child of mine .
Many a worry, That sick child of mine, Yet so eager to please. 
A loving child..

Full of smiles, Laughter too, He was left with his tiny new brother .
That child of mine, New dad and all, He was so pleased .
So proud of his new baby brother. That child of mine.
I just never knew, Thought he was safe that child of mine .
How he snapped , His new dad At that child of mine .

My joyful night, Became a mothers worst fear..
That poor child of mine, He couldn’t breathe, New dad didn’t cope.

Love was blind, This I knew, Now I’m ashamed, I should have knew.
He was only three, Battered and bruised, That poor child of mine .
From top to toe, Look what he’d done to that child of mine .

I know I should have let go, Be seen and heard for that child of mine..
I was so young with two kids in tow, How would I cope, I did not know.

To young and afraid of being alone, I should have known .

That child of mine, In sorry now, Was so naïve, It should have been done.
I should have let him go, For that child of mine I loved so .

Never again will I be afraid, Scared and unsure for any child of mine .
Their just no excuse, He was only three, That poor child of mine .
I was his mum, Should have known, What had to be done .
I should have spoke out, And not been afraid .
For that child of mine, I was his mum .

Copyright © donna burns | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad |

Young lady Shana Aubrey Harris is unique and a special precious gift

Shana Aubrey Harris born two days after ole Punxsutawney 
   i.e. the Doctor Phil - 
   of woodchucks Latin Name = Marmota Monax nest 
   resembled a Rastafarian hair weave
   which creature rattled with ire and peeve 
ish ness, when rudely roused from his abode February fourth 
   two thousand nine hundred and ninety nine 
just two days after said groundhog got prodded to predict 
   what surprises old man winter would deliver 
   from his snowy white sleeve
   then juiced when he tried tug git cozy once again, 
   an ear piercing cry rent quiet 
   of his Redmond Proficiency Academy den.
Wails surpassed decibel deemed tolerated, 
   hence entire webbed threshold did reverb and rebound
and he could not muffle ears to block out sound,
nor would said creature trust his beady eyes 
   how metamorphosis doth astound
transforming gangly infant into a stunning - materiel 
   viz par sans as fashionably attired home coming queen crowned
soon to be freshly minted high school senior, 
   and perhaps college bound.

Seventeen plus years ago elapsed in a flash, 
as a newborn mandated to exit 
   her womb er full world uterine she did plash 
ordained by Mother Nature decreed 
   she must wriggle and leave placental stash
without (of course) leaving a mass of trash.
Thus, exit from birth canal complemented 
   second and last daughter to the Harris mix
whereby, she communicated via clucks just for kicks
starting to gabble sounds vocalizing - sounds of cow bell licks
influenced by Donald Duck and Leif Erics 
son, also enlisting literary feedback from Barack Obama, 
   and his lovely brood of chic chicks
attired in his wall den uniform bespeaking 
   his pointed skill teaching pre-presidential days 
   within ivied bricks
primal utterances she acquired (courtesy of Alice Cooper) 
   Retained like toys in attics.
Like any buck minister fully taken aback
this mister mom did fuss and fawn from one jimmy crack
corn to the next rhyme, which captive infant audience gave no flack,
precious heir from loins papa did help spawn - 
   an everyday cracker Jack
of all trades whereat n'er tiring as child rearing 
   more challenging than untying Gordian knot without lack
king and how, The Idler Wheel Is Wiser 
   than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords 
   Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do to pack
a Judy ish us punch - 
   though thee Punim born with adroit skill to quack
mimicking gripped banshees, 
   denizens frenziedly shriek out box of Pandora.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |


From his home-made wooden rocker my dad beckoned with his hand, 
as his wasting frame would not allow the dying man to stand 
and he handed me two buttons, that were worn and on a chain, 
then he whispered of their origins while grimacing with pain. 
“These two buttons were my father’s lad and from a prison shirt 
that dad wore because he’d beat a man who’d treated him like dirt. 
He was placed in solitary and that added to his shame, 
so to stay sane in that darkness … well he played this little game. 
“He would throw those two white buttons in the black void of that room 
and he’d search until he found them in his quest to beat the gloom. 
Yes he’d throw those two white buttons and they kept the poor man sane, 
till they finally released him and my dad came home again. 
“When I met your darling mother son I felt right from the start 
that this girl was something special and I knew deep in my heart 
that we’d marry and have family and son the dream came true, 
but it broke me when I lost her, after she gave birth to you. 
“Though I had you to remember her, I nearly lost my mind 
and I’d ask God in my darkened room why was life so unkind. 
But my dad came to the rescue and placed in my hand one day 
two white buttons and revealed to me a game he used to play. 
“Yes I’d throw those two white buttons in the black void of that room 
and I’d search until I found them in my quest to beat the gloom. 
Yes I’d throw those two white buttons and they somehow kept me sane 
till I found a little peace of mind and was your dad again. 
“Still we’ve shared a lot of years since then and son you’re now a man 
and I know you love your family and do the best you can. 
I do not have much to leave you just these worn out buttons lad 
and the knowledge that I loved you and was proud to be your dad.” 

Then his hand slumped off the rocker and dad’s spirit left that night 
and him lying there and free of pain was such a peaceful sight. 
Though at night I’d sit there in the dark, depressed and feeling blue, 
till I took to throwing buttons, just like my dad used to do.   
Yes I’d throw those two white buttons in the black void of that room 
and I’d search until I found them in my quest to beat the gloom. 
Yes I’d throw those two white buttons and they somehow kept me sane 
and I thanked my dad and grandpa for those buttons on that chain. 

Copyright © Merv Webster | Year Posted 2005

Details | Ballad |

I Can Finally Drive

My bicycle days are through 
Please help me spread the news 
I no longer have to be a 32 year old hermit 
Mom and Dad got me my permit 
I just bought a car that seats 5 
Thanks to my parents I can finally drive 
Mom goes with me and my girlfriend out to eat 
Mom rides shotgun, my girl in the back seat 
While we are eating with live entertainment 
My girlfriend expresses how she doesn't like the car's seating arrangement 
So my mom drives and my girl is shotgun 
Now I am the lonely one 
We drop off my girlfriend and I ask my mom to remove the knife 
She says stop complaining, now you can drive 
The next night my Dad goes out with me and my buds 
We want to sit back and suck down a few suds 
Not on my watch, my Dad says 
My night out with the buds was disastrous 
After one beer, my Dad says you are too drunk to get behind the wheel 
He has no idea how this freedom of driving makes me feel 
My Mom and Dad are smothering me, my social life will never survive 
With them around, it look as if I will never truly drive 
Now it's Mom's turn to escort me, guess where we go 
My girl and Mom in the front seats, we stop at Domino's 
We all three sit in the car and wait for the pizza to get done 
Mom says no a/c, let's enjoy the sun 
I begin a waterfall of sweat 
Mom says look at you, you're all wet 
Mom asks for extra napkins when the pizza is delivered to the car 
Mom says tonight is Friday, let's park by the lake and enjoy the stars 
At the lake, I will drown myself, if I take a dive 
I am going back to the bicycle, I will never again attempt to drive

Copyright © Eugene Carmen | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ballad |


Mom, sisters,brothers is all we had.
We all grew up without our dad.
He left us all when I was just three.
There was no dad for us to see.
Life was hard but we learned to share.
Because our dad was never there.
Our life was filled with heartache and pain.
But I will say one thing he left us his name.
Everyone say's it's time to forgive and let it go.
What a life with a dad would be like I'll never know.
Somethings were good somethings were bad.
It might have been great if we've had our dad.
                      Teresa Skyles

Copyright © T.A. Skyles-Theoklapoet | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ballad |

Ode to Peanut

Ode to Peanut
(by my father David Swanson)

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of Peanut!
Oh her eyes are filled with wisdom and her breed is pure mutt.
Her dinner is the contents of the kitty litter box,
but she's our darling dog!


Peanut, peanut we all hail you!
Peanut, peanut we all smail you!
Despite the smell of your dog-do,
Cause you're our darling dog!

She reigns as queen of poodles everywhere beneath the sun,
She's the idol of each dog and cat with whom she's ever run.
She has a spot of sticky crusted right beneath her tail,
but she's our darling dog!


She likes to chew the gummy bits of all our underwear -
It gives her breath the same aroma found in anal hair.
She sleeps in Tabie's bed at night - the brownish spots are there!
But she's our darling dog!

Copyright © Elinor Swanson | Year Posted 2017