Best Familyme Poems


Premium Member Labyrinth

silk dreams

 weave a path
 of ancient memories

leading me towards a shared destiny 
with my ancestors

blessing me with visions
 they dreamt

and now I see





~inspired by my interest in finding and walking 'labyrinths' around the Midwest...

Premium Member Grandma's Arms

I remember long ago when I was just a child
Climbing into Grandma’s arms and the way she smiled
She’d hold me close and rock me, kiss me on my head
When I’d fall asleep she’d gently put me in my bed

There was a coal stove in the kitchen used for cooking and for heat
When Grandpa picked blueberries, she’d bake us a special treat
For the little things in life, we would thank the Lord above
We had more than what we needed, we were enriched by love

While Grandma was doing wash, I would be playing on the floor
Sometimes we’d take a walk down to the grocery store
After supper she’d be tired and sit down in the rocking chair
I’d climb into Grandma’s arms. I was always happy there.
me
Form: Couplet

Grandpa

Grandpa

      Telling me always
      about the old world
      trying to make me 
      an understanding girl.


             I love You
   None can ever replace you.
Form: Quatrain


This One Is For You

From time to time I find myself staring into the heavens lit by our stars
The elders spoke of each star having its name, and how God knew the all by it
  At a very young age I grew much interest in adventure, to be an explorer of such
Dream after dream, a huge imagination for images costed no money, dreams of much
  I lived by my creativity and will to be strong
Not many believed in me
  Some of which even put me down, stateing that I was worth nothing
With a shattered heart I saw the days evolve into night
  Patiently awaiting the sight of the first star
Dropping to my knees making a wish upon the first star in view
  Who would know that the stars grant no wish
My first language was spanish
  Not a single word of english or french I spoke
Growing up in grade school, I was the cause of many jokes
  I had not much but a few rags that I kept clean as best to my ability
Shoes with holes made my month
  None mattered because the love I searched was not of school but of my own home
Always been so different
  A mind of a genius
The will of a warrior
  But the love of...
When the tide is high swim not
  For a tormented sea might just never return you
I play guilt
  Guilt I know not for I made it as best I could
Sing me a song that I may sing to
  Paint me a portrait so that I too may loose in the form and color
Write me a poem so that I may see it play
  Pardon me for not being what you wanted me to be
Pardon me for being me
  I hope one day you may forgive my life
I meant no disrespect, what did I ever do to you
  You abused me and stomped on my heart
You punched my soul right out
  I'm sorry for not being you
And I pass to find my joy
  I will live to meet my future
This one is for you dad

My Daughter, My Hero

Who is your hero?
As for me, I would have to say,
"My Daughter, My Hero."
She brings joy and happy tears to my eyes each time she says,
"Mommy, I Love You."
So once again I ask
who is your hero?
And once again I reply
"My Daughter, My Hero"
Although my reasons would change for I have so many,
She is my hero for she brings laughter when I am sad, and is there to inform me 
that everything will be alright.
She is my hero for she is there to take care of me as I am there for her.
She comes to me before any other.
And once again I ask,
Who is your hero?
As for me, I again reply,
"My Daughter, My Hero."
Form:

Premium Member My Brother, My Friend

I followed you around when we were young
I worshiped you; your praises I sung
You were so much older and wiser and right
You were my north star in my blackest night

I broke your clowns when I was three
I cried on your shoulder when I skinned my knee
You were always there when I needed a friend
You were the unwavering force that would not bend

We sang in the kitchen, you and me
Classic oldies, and ballads and Fiddle de Dee
Summertime in soprano and bass
Our own special concert in a warm homey place

I grew to my teens and you threatened the boys
Not letting them treat me like one of their toys
Then off to war you went and I cried and I prayed
That God would return you to us as we waited afraid

Home you came; we wed the loves of our life’s
Through happiness, birth and the day to day strife’s
We shared every one; burdens and bliss
Even the death of our parents, we made it through this

You moved across country but we still stayed in touch
Birthdays, holidays, grandchildren and such
But you called me tonight to give me the news
That my best friend and my brother was singing the blues

The prognosis wasn’t good; I cannot accept
I cussed, and I paced and then I just wept
Now I'm praying again that He'll answer my plea
To help you, to cure you, to keep you with me.
© Lena Pate  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member My Ten Grands and More

One of my grandsons, name of Benjamin
He likes eating toast made with cinnamon
But uses his wits
To not eat his grits
Then excuses himself like a gentleman

Charlie thrives on competition
Out smarting you is his mission
Bear hugs
Tiny bugs, 
And “stick to it” repitition

William’s impish smile is contagious
The attention he wants is outrageous
That slobbery kiss
He can’t let you miss
Borders on being sanctimonious

The little princess is Laura Nance
She wears frilly, girlish underpants
She loves a warm lap
Cartoons and a nap
Getting attention with a coy glance

Joseph loves learning karate
He seldom is rude or naughty
A steady grind
Kicking behind
Finding wisdom beats the haughty

There is much to say of Caroline
She is definitely DNA  of mine
Quietly aggressive
Lovingly possessive
She calculates when to toe the line

Jackson just started to first grade
I’m sure he has more game plans made
Like the rest
Mom knows best
His lunch is PBJ and marmalade

Colin just finished his S.A.T.
I’m sure he did better than me
Sharp as a tack
Knows how to rack
The pool balls to break wimpily. 

Derek made the junior varsity
The “main man” he would seem to be.
Fit to be tied,
Praise not denied, 
He’s still that six foot little boy to me.

Ryan—such a smart young man
I teach him a card trick when I can
He learned how to play
Challenged me one day
Skunked me then got up and ran

Three dogs, alpaca and a kit
Where in my family do they fit
My pseudo grands
By a daughter’s hands
Who admires them more than a bit

© 02 Dec 2010  Charles Henderson
Form: Limerick

Super Mom

My mom is always there
She can be my mom
Or she can be my friend.

She is very beautiful
And she doesn’t admit
That she’s humble about it.

She stays true to her word 
And she makes me laugh so hard
Most of the time she’s happy
And some of the time she’s grumpy.

She will always be my mommy
She amazes me on what she can do
And she will always be my superhero.
Form:

Penance

I hated you for your iron, 
cracking and slipping through my 
own disaster, 
weeping,
engraving linoleum into my bones and joints
and praying to stand but never having the heart.

You shoved my face into the wall so many times-
forcing my skin under your fingernails while you smiled-
I began to think it was an embrace,
shaking my head to shake you off
and hoping you didn’t love me 
as much as you claimed.
I dreamed of the day I could return the favor.

Then you turned back.
I already had my fists raised and
curled around their handful of air,
stretching the atmosphere taut
while you covered your face.
Unexpected fingers draped 
careless over your head,
grieving 
and choking me into stillness
-the lone candle wick before your sorrow-
You sobbed from your own crumbling center-
the kind I make when no one's listening.
You felt for my mouth, and desecrated my lips 
into pillars of salt -
the ones you mocked time and again
for weakness.
And maybe I deserved it, 
because I stood with tears in my eyes 
and fire in my veins
and metal in my mouth.
while the world wheeled beneath us.
I stood downcast amidst the stars,
and all the ashes of god and gomorrah,
and mumbled to myself

I 

don’t

trust

you.


I can’t ever trust you.

Premium Member Grandpa's Pocket Watch

Grandpa had so many folks and things he cared for;
God's Creation, his family, nation and very much more.
I sorta thought I was special to him, the apple of his eye,
Showering love on me of which he had and abundant supply!

One of his dear possessions in which he took special pride,
Was given to him by Grandma when he took her as his bride.
A handsome railroad pocket watch is was, a Waltham by name,
Exquisitely encased in gold with ornate etching 'round its frame.

Grandpa was always clad in a stylish suit and vest,
With an elegant gold chain and fob draped across his chest.
Asked the time, with a twinkle in his eye and practiced panache,
He'd produce his watch and tell you the time as quick as a flash!

His daily routine was ruled by the watch and it would never fail,
If his meals weren't on time, at Grandma he'd rail!
He'd look at his watch and say, "It's time for my afternoon nap,"
And he'd invite me to join him on his comforting lap!

Grandpa cherished that old watch - it was wound only by him,
But time passed on, he grew frail, his eyes grew dim.
He called me aside one day saying, "This watch is yours my lad.
Pass it to your son and tell him it's from his Great Grandad."

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Form: Rhyme

A Decisive Hour Pt. 2

This is going to hurt. As the catheter was inserted into
my groin, I screamed, I cried and I was forgiven.
I watched the whole procedure in awe, There before me
was my heart, vulnerable, beautiful. I saw what Dr. Dib 
called the snake, come to a stop within my heart. Dr. Dib
said, " do you see the snakes tail? Yes I said. Just ahead of it
is a 100% blocked artery,Now watch! All this time which was 
actually a couple short minutes, which felt an eternity with
the heart attack still in motion, he pushed the catheter
through the blockage, " I'm going to pull the catheter out
now and attach a balloon and what is called a stent. ( he showed
me what it looked like later) And re-inserted the catheter.
As the balloon arrived back at the partially open blockage,
Dr. Dib said " Are you alright?" Yes.. " Then here we go" 
" Keep watching" The balloon was inserted into the blockage
inflated a bit, deflated and pulled back into the stent. The
balloon and stent were re-inserted and the balloon re-inflated
until the stent locked into place in the artery. As soon as the 
balloon was removed from the in place stent, the pain was gone.
From massive pain to no pain in an instant. I felt that
voice again, " You still have work yet to do" I prayed, I 
thanked God, I thanked Dr. Dib for saving my life, he smiled
and said " You're going to be fine, rest now" As I was 
now whisked to the Cardiac ICU all wired for sound,
The hand remained, ever present. Finally less than an hour
after it started, it was over, basically. I was in my room to 
be greeted by the smiling, yet concerned face of my Mary.
I knew the full impact of God's Grace and Love for me.
She said do you want me to get Josh from school? "Yes".
She kissed me, told me she loved me and for me to rest.
I closed my eyes, feeling more at peace than I had in years.
I awoke to see my wonderful Son concerned, yet strong.
He kissed my forehead. The hand that was holding mine slipped
away and was replaced by Josh's. I felt his love ever present,
my hand in his.


Thank you Dr. Dib, Thank you Mary and Josh and all who love me.

                   Thank you Father! from your Loving Son!
Form: Narrative

House Arrest

Under lock and key
no way of escape
yet everyone else 
is free to roam the streets
Sinking and sinking
suffocating under pressure
Treated as a little girl
with no escape
Can't make my own choices
Stupid me does as I'm told 
Left alone in a cold house
with no love
A long time from now 
till my release
it's been 22 years
with hope still far off
Many things binding me home
while the other child 
is as free as a bird
How can I escape?
How can I gain freedom?
because right now 
I'm rotting in prison

Man In a Suitcase

MAN   IN    A    SUITCASE

Used to joke  how Gregory Peck  was my father                   
But never knew why I was called Sydney.                                             
Or why  Australia’s city was named after me -                       
And a dozen other cities around the world  farther.              

My dad surely was where mum’s love-treasure  was spent,   
But died before I was born  and before they could marry.      
Her family hated this guy but she was  tough, didn’t worry,          
And named me after the man for whom she was meant.        
     
She never discussed  her  feelings buried, 
Showed  no photos, never talked about him to me.      
Broken hearted I guess.   Who wouldn’t be?
I never knew  the man she would have married.

I didn’t really cotton  to  the name I had.
I preferred  Alan or Steve or maybe Vincent
And a dozen other names  meant  for a gent,
Regardless of who may have been my dad.

I  also disliked the name for its ambiguity,  this name Sydney
-  Sort of amphibious.  A name in American movies - for women,
It could swim across the ocean and in British movies - for men,  
(Always  small-time crooks who were chirpy and cockney).

No, I never liked the name.  It wasn’t  worth a jitney
To me;  and I used other nicknames for many a year,
It was only used in mockery for it was relatively rare.
Even today,  “Syd”  is ok;  but please, never call me “Sydney”

But I found a  dusty  old suitcase and lifted its lid  
After she passed away.   Her life’s  treasurechest, 
And out rolled some  gold,  photo of old soldier dressed
In uniform: he looked like me:  the name on back  was  Syd.

That moment  -  Damascus Road - change of heart.
Now,  proud to have it, say it, hear it.  Nicknames I forbid.
I like it  especially when my loving wife  says  “Syd”  
Now with this name  I’d never part.
…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Written for Linda-Marie’s contest  WHAT’S  IN  A  NAME?

A Message To Heaven

i wait at night, look for your star
i feel you close, but bodys so far
taken away, removed all your pain
your words and your wisdom, were the things that i gain 
long late night chats, getting blind drunk
sharing a beer, or smoking some skunk
i miss all those things, i miss how we talk
i miss when you used me to lean on to walk 
i miss when us kids were just little nippers 
or when you stunk the house out when cooking your kippers 
i miss when we went driving for hours on end
you wernt just a dad you were my best friend
laughing and joking, like when mum burnt the gravey 
or the storys you told bout being young in the navey
the tears and the crying, the shouting and screaming 
and now that your gone i wake hoping im dreaming 
the quick witted mind, but you were sometimes a knob
but now your at peace, reunited with rob
you once told me a secret, when i was eleven
so god bless you dad, is my message to heaven.
mum
Form:

Premium Member Yes Dear

"What ever you say Dear, "
He hasn't heard me at all.
It's his ready answer
Whenever I call.

I told him this morning,
I told him last night.
I told him so often
We almost had a fight.

"Please do come home early,
And stop at the store.
I've made a list for you,
I'll call if there's more."

He can't figure out what I do
All the day while he works.
A wife who runs errands,
Should be part of the perks.

My life should be easy
Just me and the kids.
If I take my eyes off one,
Law and Heaven forbids.

Three strollers, three car seats,
How hard can that be?
"Well if you say so, Darling,
Try it once and you'll see."


For Francine's contest  received hm

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Hide Ad