I tried my best
To live between your cruel words
Yet there was no room
I felt less
Smaller than small
So why didn't I fit?
Now that you are gone
Who's words had you borrowed?
Did the pain you gave to me come from another's broken heart?
Was it too much to bare?
I now have room at the end of your sentences.
Not forced within the confines of your spaces
Tracing the manicured pearls of your wisdom
You have not had the last word
I am not doomed to your hypothesis
I'm willing to dance on the edge
My cliff is of note
worthy of jumping from
For I am not Icarus
There is no reason to fear the sun
Only your ice will melt from my wings
I do not wish to re-live your convoluted nightmare
The drifting of your mind
Those barriers to my existence
Freedom at last
At the end
At the end of your sentences.
The lesson I learned is that the only one who can define my being is me.
I also learned that painful words and curses can be passed on from generation to generation unless we put a stop to it. I thank God for the strength He provided me. I have been blessed beyond what I expected as a child.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017
O' middle child, dear son of mine, you have always let the others shine
All through the years, you have stood behind
---I want to say, I've noticed you
Your sister's charms, of course, we knew...
And your brother's skills were multitude
But, my quiet child, though your words were few
---I want to say I've noticed you
While people cheered, and guitars were played,
as your siblings sang upon the stage
You cheered them on with no restraint
---but, I want to say I've noticed you
Such wit and charm, a heart of gold,
More generous soul, I've never known
A shoulder you will always lend
---a brother, friend until the end
I love you all, .....of course I do
I have watched you grow, each one of you
My quiet child, you are still the same
---you'll step aside from all acclaim
As parents now, all three of you
I am proud beyond the words I hold
My middle child, I hope you know,
while you've always been a one to sow
a quiet gift to all you've known
---I want to say I've noticed you........
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
'I want you to use all your powers and your skills
I don’t want his mother to see him like this
Look, look how they massacred my boy'...
Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) in “The Godfather”
Playing the game. It's a game isn't it?
Life is but a game, but a dream isn't it?
I drove home by that road many, many times,
that very same short-cut country road that you took
that road where our lives crashed, exploded and shattered
shattered in jagged shards of Silver-Saturn pieces
(This is where you must have seen the swerving headlights
What were your thoughts? Were you worried? Were you alarmed?
This is the spot, oh God this is where, where it all hap...
What were your LAST thoughts? What were your last words
when that pick-up jumped, jumped and flew out of that ditch?
You always said "WHAT THE"...Yeah, you must have said that)
Driving myself to madness playing the 'what if' game
What if you had driven just a little faster?
A little slower? Stopped to pick up something?
DIDN'T stop to pick up something? (Did-didn't-did...)
Stayed at work a minute longer, or left a minute early?
Just what are the odds? Just what are the chances?
2:AM? Maybe one car, one car every 2 hours or so?
If it were a head-on collision, you may have survived
If on the rear side, perhaps only a violent spin
But no, no it had to be on the driver’s side door
It was 'perfect timing, a 'perfect' flash in time
I drove home by that same road many, many times,
that very same short-cut country road that you took
that country road you were driving; innocently driving
just trying to get back home...
Yes, playing the game. It's a game isn't it?
Life is but a game, but a dream isn't it?
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014
And there you were -
blue cap and jersey, white pants
bat held high above the shoulder
cocked and ready to swat one out
in that perfect stance of yours...
Shoulder turned, name half visible
(Proud you were to wear that name
Proud was I you wore that name)
Yes there you were -
smiling that smile of yours...
Cocky, confident, ready-or-not smile
The kind of smile of someone who
was exactly where he belonged
exactly where he wanted to be
in that very place, that very moment
doing what he was born to do
Fulfilling his destiny...
(Yes that's my boy out there
Yes he IS a good player isn't he?)
So there you were -
An all-star you were, oh yes, a star
a shining, glittering star but:
Stars are born to flame out, die
We are all born to die it is said
Seems only the best of us die young
and far too soon, too soon
You died too soon...
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014
It wasn't because he brought her flowers....
It wasn't because he wined and dined her....
She loved him because he spent hours on the computer
trying to track down the 1970 Brooks Robinson baseball card
for their oldest son's birthday
She loved him because he played with their kids, even after a hard day at work...
baseball games in the big front yard...
cheering them on...
not getting angry when the youngest son
knocked a homer
straight through the living room window
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
It was such a small thing
It happens all the time
Fathers and sons disagree
Fathers and sons argue
Fathers and sons say things
Things they don't really mean...
We exchanged words
Harsh words over nothing, nothing at all
Childish words over petty differences
Angry words which are critical
so critical now to recall and to relive
over and over again…
You were ready to drop the matter
You were ready to relent and apologize
I was not ready to drop the matter
I was not ready to relent and apologize
You were the adult, I was the child
I reversed the roles, you reversed them back
You wanted to relent. I refused to relent
I refused and let you walk out that door
Yes, I let you walk out that door
That front door, that door to forever
the last time I didn't say goodbye to you
the last time I didn't say I love you
the last time I saw you
the last time I saw you alive…
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015
He poked his head
betwix mine write
for the likes of I
to address his query;
"Do I blend in
do my words
Copyright © James Peranteau | Year Posted 2010
A mother gazes at a painting from decades ago
a bitter sweet reminder of beautiful memories
Remembering her child splashing in the water
but so distant in his own world - lost at sea
Maybe those were the signs - that they failed to see
Recalling the day he walked away to chase his dream
leaving with so much acrimony - words piercing the heart
Was it something she did? Was it something she said?
Did he get too much attention or did he feel neglected?
Her heart is crying for you - do you feel her tears?
Her tongue is calling your name - do you hear her?
Your mother is in pain - come and heal her
Your mother is suffocating - breathe oxygen into her
Your mother prepared a painting, but the image is blank
she can picture your brown eyes and your smile - but it's unclear
How your mother longs to see your face - to hear your voice
Age is catching up on her - don't leave it too late
Since your departure it feels like she has painted only in achromatic
so forlorn - missing you like a brush without its palette
when a painter has lost her heart - how can she paint a pretty picture?
The Silent One
10 November 2015
Oil Paintings 1-2-3 any Poem form - Poetry Contest by Eve Roper
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015
The rose colour of your mouth
stirs something primordial inside of me –
I smile along with you.
Plump little hands reach for my face.
I hold still
while you explore my heart with a feathery touch.
When you are asleep,
I look over the papers of your college fund.
We could make it
if we would forsake frivolities.
It will be no hardship for me to do so.
I smile contentedly.
The boxer puppy lying at my feet;
its stomach pink and extended:
he ate too greedily
You will grow up together
and share our unconditional love.
The cricket bat,
signed by the national team,
takes pride of place in its brackets on your bedroom wall –
a pale dove blue
(matching the colour of your eyes).
A gift from your dad –
sure that you would follow in his footsteps.
A rainbow of possibilities prostrate at your feet.
I check every now and again
whether you are breathing.
neither a frown upon your smooth face,
nor a care in the world.
Your long, black eyelashes quiver slightly,
as though following a dream –
a dream we all shared:
a dream of boundless expectations …
Exhuming long forgotten memories;
mingling with my fevered tears –
echoing my breaking heart.
They lead you away.
Assaulting the arresting officer
had sealed your fate.
best laid to rest
together with the memories of you.
The sky has lost its colour,
as I step outside the courtroom.
Closer By Chris Aechtner
“If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations”
3 July 2013
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
Contest Name Referential
Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013
You struggled Screaming
Fighting that creature
Sleep But I managed to rock you
Off into calm and bliss
And peace And as I wrote Looking over
Every once and again
To see you embraced Enveloped in dream
You woke and looked at me.
"Hush." I whispered. "Daddy is right here... Beside you."
You smiled acknowledgement Falling back
Into that place I am not allowed
And I cried Not full of envy
But satiated in unconditional
Love Love for all that
Light and hope you fill
My humble chest with
I cried because before you smiled
Before you fell Back to sleep
I felt the glory it is
To be a parent...
Copyright © Joseph Granda-Padron | Year Posted 2016
How far can you fall and get back up
How high can you jump
And keep your feet in the sand
To touch grace and fall from within
Next to you I was out of my skin
I missed you yesterday and you leave tomorrow
A life spent in the shadows of lushly tint
Smoke your waves
Exhale the freshness of your menthol scent
Home is what you call shelters that need no defense
You’ll say goodbye
I’ll send again
You won’t reply
Is the appreciation of another’s existence
Is the anticipation of seeing you again
You and I, we’ll cruise the shores
Together we’ll settle with the wind
The joy of a small hut, a lovers den
I’ll wonder why
You’ll send again
I will not reply
"our songs for sale"
Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009
In the beginning it is just a lovely cloud
Collin comes across her in the coffee house
One of his friends calls his attention
Look, your mom is here, let’s go elsewhere
A descent of birds pecking at his brain
The cloud he keeps looking at for quite a while
The face and the figure look like his
He goes to the toilet to look into the mirror
The semblance he sees is a puzzling wonder
The birds dance and sing in tumultuous chorus
His friend confounded when he is told
Collin does not know who his mother is
He had been adopted when he was just two
The lady too looks at them off and on
When a bridge comes up none can say
The next few hours he passes in a daze
Is the quest for four years going to succeed
Is the cloud preordained for the sudden rain
Or it is just a fortuitous resemblance
But then isn’t it an exactly mirror image
Returning home Collin scrutinizes himself again
In the mirror he finds the same chiseled face
The same desirous dreamy eyes, head full of hair
He recites poems and talks to himself
Same grace radiates from the daffodils
The plant with the flowers hangs in the air
The charm and the fragrance are irresistible
He craves to rush forward and hug it tight
And flood the flower with crimson kisses
The scented air stays elusive nonetheless
Collin says everything to his adopted parents
They are very glad and cooperate to get to the truth
There would be no problem in living all together
Collin laughs and says very forcefully
The twenty two years old son is no more an introvert
When the magnet works in the very stem cells
The eventual fusion is inevitable obviously
She takes him to her apartment
She lives alone her husband dead
No shadow of children nowhere in the rooms
Thousand wasps biting inside his head
The pain is traumatic for the hidden truth
Light and dark interchange day after day
Poems of love keep churning the two hearts
Drama outside and a flood within
The day DNA test confirms the gene
The two intermingle to a river serene
August 8, 2016: For the Contest: Long Lost Family
Sponsored by Silent One
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
Walk With Me
I said, "Look at the mess I've made."
He said, "Take my hand and don't be afraid."
I said, "But I feel so ashamed."
He said, "I love you son and you're the reason I came."
I said, "What about those dark days ahead?"
He said, "My love will be nourishment and keep you well fed."
I said, "I'm not brave tell me what to do."
He said, "Believe in me and I'll carry you through."
I said, "Okay Father, teach me to be a man."
He said, "I love you my son now take my hand."
I said, "My soul is Yours for eternity."
He said, "I'm proud of you my son, now walk with me."
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2010
A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this allotrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevalent from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths
roles and qualities of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
~My Trip With Love~
A arrival from Montreal to San Francisco seeing my son and his children.
B beautiful red roses on my approach expressing their love towards me.
C for caring to have an eye contact honoring my motherly devotion & fidelity.
D for dreams come true when i sleep at night in my own studio.
E for enjoy having our breakfast first day while exchanging our life time stories.
F for faithfulness towards one another was so important since his childhood.
G good friends who invites me to their homes to meet their families.
H for happiness when I run to the restaurant help greett his customers at work.
I interfering with my sons life is a long forgotten issue, a perpetual respect .
J for jokes we exchange together through evenings laughing endlessly.
K kissing me good night when the night is over for me to retire.
L for love that I get from both of them when I cook an oriental dish.
M morning ride on a tour with family & soft music while driving.
N for never do I complain about any subject when shared together.
O older, but I don't let them feel my arthritis pains when I am visiting.
P for pictures are taken as souvenirs from this fabulous journey once a year
Q quite evenings when I leave my son and wife to have an intimate night.
R for roll up my sleeves to clean their home to amaze them out of love.
S surprise when home from work to a house clean & table set for dinner.
T transport for me is the subway my independence not to bother him.
U unique love between a son and mother, he is my rock. Best friends.
V variable outings touring the city while discussing his children's future.
W wanting those happy days to last forever. But will return next year.
X xylophone for enjoying the music of our last dinner together.
Y yearning from my depth to have wanted my stay to last longer.
Z zone when we said farewell at the end of the visitors area. Tears of joy.
Visiting my sons once a year is my dream come true forever. The love for my children has always been, "The Endless Love Of A Child".
An ABC poem :For Alfred Vassello
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013
A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior
My dear son, Jayson
When you called late last night to let me know
You were deploying to go overseas tomorrow
In spite of my great resolve
I broke down and sobbed.
The little boy I lovingly nurtured
So witty and good-natured
So kind, compassionate, and loving
You’ll always be my sweet boy
Even though the world now sees you as a grown man.
Recalling special times when I showered your baby face with kisses
Or tickled your armpits
Howling with laughter, you would beg me
“Do it again, Mommy, I love it!”
I remember all those moments we had
At times rocky, sometimes sad
But most of all memorable and enjoyable.
I remember your growing pains
All your questions, anxieties, and mixed-up emotions
Yes, we made it through hurdles you and I
Making me laugh, making me cry
But taking that journey together was quite priceless!
You’re now a strong, valiant, young man
Willingly putting your life on the line
Many have thanked you for your service
And, my brave warrior, I am so proud of you
When I hear your humble, heartfelt reply, “Glad to do it!”
You’re just simply the best!
While you took a minute to leave the nest
I’m grateful for the extra time we were given
But I know
It’s time to let you go –
Go take your rightful place in the world.
You’ve grown wings like a fierce eagle
It’s your time to fly high! Now soar!
But remember that you are always a part of me
And even though we may no longer hold hands
We are still holding hearts.
These tear-splattered pages
Reflect my anguished heart
Knowing you’re prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country
I pray that you will return to me safe and sound
I love you, my hero - my precious son.
¡Vaya con Dios!
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014
In my arms,
in the depths of mine heart
In the shadows,
in the bright
In the pastures,
in betwixt the trees
In his thoughts,
inside of mine
In Noah trots
into Pops life
Copyright © James Peranteau | Year Posted 2012
I woke this morning
yes this morning
and felt the warmth of love
‘pon mine forehead
and my face
and my ears
and my nose
I woke this morning
yes this morning
and heard the warmth of love
close to mine forehead
and my face
and my ears
and my nose
I woke this morning
yes this morning
and heard his words of love
“Don’t worry Pops
I washed my fingers before
I counted the wrinkles on your
and your nose
Copyright © James Peranteau | Year Posted 2015
Quiet and still now.
The swing occasionally catches the air.
The tire never moves.
There’s no one there to care.
The jungle gym beside it is played with by squirrels.
The sand box below holds creatures quiet and shy.
Tiny plastic men are lost in the sand deep below.
A metal car is with them, once favorite of them all.
Leaves stir in the clubhouse, with spiders in its loft.
My son hadn’t played with it for a long, long while.
But I hadn’t noticed while he was here running in the house.
And now when I see the Wooden Swing Set…
It’s connects with my empty heart.
A touch of Empty Nest Syndrome brought this poem to me.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
I am a black prince
Who use to rule over a kingdom
But now my people and me are enslaved
Force to pick the white mans cotton
I see my brother and sisters
Being whipped and branded like cattle
They think we are cattle
So we are treated like cattle
But my people dream and sing of the future
Where we are free from our shackles
I am the black preacher
Who has been freed from his shackles
But now fighting for our rights
So my son and daughter
Can go to a pool and not be separated
By the racial line.
Or when they go outside to play
They don’t have to worry about the KKK
Trying to hang them from a tree branch
That is the reason I fight that is why I want equal rights
For there can be a better tomorrow
The better tomorrow
I’m the son of the preacher
Who was the grandson of the black prince.
Here saying that enslavement and segregation
An now the only problem remains is
The fact that we are killing each other
Over money and women
This makes no sense
Have we as a people suffered enough?
Have we shed enough blood?
So I ask you
Put the gun down spread the word
Tell our brothers tell are sisters that the
300 years of enslavement and segregation is over
We have our black president
We have the power
To show the world that
We as a people are united
Copyright © kevin goodrum | Year Posted 2012
Pulled himself to the very top
Looked over the world on high
Felt the warm and stirring breeze
falling from the sky
Knowing this was how it felt
to soar above the land
To feel so safe away from things
so free to be alive
Yet down the pole we all must come
to touch the very ground
This is where we laugh and play
gives us what we need
The loving smile of a young girl's face
a women's tender care
For up above the pole to fly
is nothing but the air
But on the soil we grow and live
to reach out, to touch, to give
So keep your feet upon the ground
take a good long look around
and see if flying above the pole
isn't like living in a hole
from where you never see
the reaching hands pulling you down
pulling you down to be
Copyright © Elinore Carney | Year Posted 2005
My son, my one and only
To you, I give my hand
You left us grieving for you
This dark and lonely night
Take my hand and lead me
Leave me not in despair
Let me join you this present hour
For my heart can not go on
A moment more without you
My love, my one and only.
Copyright © Giselle Sun | Year Posted 2009
Watching leaves cartwheel down
we meet at the bench
tucked under the trees, in the park
Unable to speak
I am feeling a squeeze in my breast
My emotions are clenched
with years of unrest
since that day that I left, empty armed
Still weak in the knees
I must sit while I watch
this child, once mine,
sit cross-legged, in light
of the late August sun
His fingers unpeel
the paper, and twine
from the gift I have brought
from a little gift shop
that I passed when I walked in the night
With the package undone,
he smiles up at me
and I see in his eyes
the wholeness of him
And I am strangled to say
the words that I could….
Would I tell him the things
that would empty those eyes
of a soft place to land ?
Now he grabs for the hand
of the mother he knows
and I thank her with eyes
before I must go
I must leave him to her
and not say the words
that would follow him home for all time
I have broken away
any hold that I had
except for the one
that chokes out the sun
on a hot August day
in the late afternoon
A leaf tumbles down, then is swept by the breeze
Only here for a moment, then gone
A Fictional Poem Based On Contest: "Long Lost Family"
And for Contest: Personal Best of 2016
Sponsored by Frank Herrera
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016
As I follow the footsteps of my son
My heart breaks at every word said
As my tears run down my face
I vision, tenderly cradling him in my arms
when he was young
Does it have to be this way?
They only loved and worshiped Him yesterday
What has happened in just a day to make everyone hate him so?
As I take every step behind him watching him suffer so
My legs want to fold underneath me of the pain in my heart for my son
For every blow he takes, for every time he falls
My eyes swell and my nose runs
from the suffering that my son is enduring
and I am not allowed to get near him to comfort him in my arms
Please, let his suffering end
I can’t bear it any longer watching Him being nailed to the cross
I know it was meant to be, for our redemption
© Eve Roper 3/21/2015
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015
Too big for his britches, too small for his cap
Just the right size for mama's lap
He keeps me in stitches, the things he will say
"Oh let him stay little", I repeatedly pray
A little firecracker with spunk to spare
He walks in the house and strips down bare
Not a single piece of clothing, not even a sock
Demands to be naked, stubborn as a rock
Bath time is the best if you'r ready for some fun
Not a dry spot on the wall by the time he is done
There is something about that boy that tugs at my heart
An emptiness inside, when we are apart
His little blonde curls and sweet little face
A perfect little person, thanks to God's glory and grace
I love that he needs me and doesn't want me to leave
Lord knows I need him too, more than I need to breathe
Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2015
I went back into that dark, dark place
Were demons dwell
Lives are taken away
Through the pain
Through the tears
You were there and kept me near.
You saved my life by loving me;
Your silent strength was the key.
Gentle touches and silent words
Let me know that love was the cure.
Depression is my evil curse,
When it planted the seed of death
Your love washed it away
Gave me the strength
To seek the help I needed to keep it at bay.
I’ve walked that dark path so many times
I’ve done lost track,
Things have change
And God’s given me a special tool
To help me through,
I have you and Joshua too,
Rooted deeper is the knowledge
Both of you want me to stay a little longer.
So like a drug addict that has lost their way
I start the road back to brighter days,
There are not enough words to say
I Love You
In every way
May God bless us ever day.
Copyright © Sarah Frieman | Year Posted 2009
"Put on channel seven.
My Lord!! What have they done!
I can not believe it..
they killed my only son!"
Raised with respect.
Never a problem.
Worked hard as a Man.
Problems..he would solve them.
He did well in College..
He struggled..but made it through.
Held his chin up when he was down.
Gods help..guided him through.
He put down his cup of coffee.
Kissed his daughters face.
Ran to catch the bus.
To join the daily race.
On the 105th floor,
"Ding!" and he steps out.
He can already hear.
His boss’s vivid shouts.
We are staring at the screen.
The worst disaster I have ever seen.
The building collapsed.
My heart went numb.
is my only son?
Did he make to the office?
Lord tell me..it’s not true.
God, take me instead of him!
Please help him get through.
"Where is my Daddy?"
I was staring in her eyes..
I saw it then..she realized.
"Why would they do it?
..What have they done?
I said, "We are not to hate but..
..but they have killed my only son."
Copyright © Jennifer M. | Year Posted 2014
I have said at one time and another that my soul evolves When perhaps I should have said It remembers Like the prodigal son returning from whence he came And rejoicing in the knowledge that he is home And maybe it is the heart that remembers the perfection of the soul For what God has created is even now perfect and eternal The more I love the more I behold As if I have awakened with all of you in the heart of God
Copyright © Michael Ainsley | Year Posted 2013
I must confess!!
my mother was not there
when i needed milk from somebody's breast
Probably she was feeling stress -
daddy used to beat her down
living marks from the face to the chest
Eventually mom left,
living behind two sons;
i must believe she thought it was best
To do not worry about the rest -
she kept on going forward
and buildup a new nest
I'm not writing this for you to criticize
for you to analyze
That i had realize!!
You couldn't ever gone back
to get hurt and be utilize
So you came to the deep south
with only one purpose;
not ever going back to the devil's mouth
If i was you i would have done the same,
but again, what about my sons
you know what, don't take the blame
Mother is alright!!
I am very thankful
for i am very bright
Thank you again for giving birth
two beautiful sons;
worth introducing to the planet Earth
Copyright © Diogenes Zuniga | Year Posted 2009
On the beach at dusk,
you say that someone has
thrown sand into the sky,
and please won't I sweep
it away so you can play
awhile longer with your
sand castles and little plastic boats.
You are confident
I can do anything,
and, Son, I've always tried.
But even I cannot
hold back the night.
Darkness closes in around us,
and for the first time
you look up at me,
and see that I'm not God!
For your best free verse poem
SKAT A/ Contest
Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014