Best Fathertime Poems
The Judge
Accused and accuser, a battle for life,
Abused and abuser, a husband and wife,
Thieves and robbers, the unjust takers,
Pushers, druggies, and even drug makers,
Quickly I decide the fates of these,
The server of justice, respect me please,
I try my best to serve with skill,
To protect the public from those that kill,
Justice is not so cut and dried,
Letter of law before each case tried,
Some guilty go free in this court of mine,
Others are released with only a fine,
Stacks of papers, stories to tell,
Left to me to judge them well,
Pros and cons, wrongs and rights,
As I listen to lawyers’ fights,
Restitution for damages, punishment for crime,
Fault being corrected by the serving of time,
Hours to contemplate how life went astray,
Freedom restricted and fines to pay,
Equality in justice, fairness to all,
Innocent till guilty, no time to stall,
How can we be sure that I’m fair and just?
There’s only one way, In God We Tru$t.
Thaddeus Tietsort
1998
SIX FORTY-FIVE A.M.
(FAMILY GATHERING)
You knew I was scared
Of flying almost as much
As I was scared of you.
Yet, you decided it was time
For me to fly in and
Watch you die.
The phone rang at 6:45 a.m.
What else could it be? You have been sick
Forever. After twenty rings (I counted), I picked up
The phone and my sister stated the obvious:
He is dying. We are
gathering the family.
I said: This time for real?
Because you had died at least once
A month for the past six months
And I had received nothing
For my fear except useless
Frequent flyer miles.
You knew I’d come even though I hated family
Gatherings almost as much as I hated
Flying . . . you. I packed a small bag,
Boarded the plane, and took four Xanax.
I passed out for the duration of the flight
And for the entire time it took you to die.
Eventually, I traded my frequent flyer miles
In for an i-Pod. And since your death
I have refused to attend
any family gatherings.
I have not had to fly.
I have not been scared.
Copyrighted
Jim Brewer
April 28, 2011
The spiritual birth of word
I recently lost my mind spirit and individual life.
But was always soulfull just without knowledge of the
one self
To understand knowledge shown thru understanding.
But through it all I came back
In the essence and words that
Filled me that up to now
I had many Epiphany but none as profound.
I was shown by my mother
A two verse poem written by my father.
The time of transition from righteous
To complaicent mediocrity
The time of the inspiration
Is key to its power of comited energy
And in two versus my father sacraficed understanding
for knowledge
To provide food for his son and daughter.
You shouldn't waste your time
Waiting foryour child to grow
Cherish the time you have with themnow
For tomorrow will become yesterday
And yesterday will become a month
A month will become a year
A year, a lifetime ago...
Before you know it
He'll be talking, then walking
Going to school, playing sports
Driving, dating girls
Getting a job, getting in trouble
Getting in fights, getting his heart broken
Moving out and starting his only family
Leaving you wonder where time when
Love the moment you're innow with him
For it won't last forever
Forgive the back talk
Forgive the trouble making
Forgive the fights and late nights
Remember you where young once too
Be proud of him no matter what
He does or becomes
For he will learn how to be a man
By watching and listening to you
So walk tall, stand proud
And I hoipe you have a Happy Father's Day
This is to my cute Andy Tovarez
~ Killing Time is Murder ~
Missing image
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~
~
~
~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~
~~~~~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~ ~
~ ~~ ~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~~~ Killing time is murder. ~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~ Sometimes too short it is! ~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~ Coffee in hand mitten slippers, ~~
~ too and fro, oh the ebb and flow. ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Gentle ride on Daddy's feet ~
~~~~~ waltinz away! ~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~ A struggle, ~~~~
~~~ though entire. ~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Nothing else to do. ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Way better time ~
~ is killing time. ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~ Though, ~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ friend cancer, ~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~ is murder ~~
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author notes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ e v e r y o n e 1 ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written for my Father and all those who suffer like he did, for those suffering with them.
Was remembering Him today, like most every day. How much I love, miss him, how good he was
to me, though suffering. As he always did try his best to love ... move to cherish life,
respect everybody!
Sometimes too short it is time!
To suffer with him through it! Better time it was killing time ... suffering together!
Though cancer, still it is ... murder!
Love: ~ James ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Father time’s a weary aging relic;
he’s earned another blissful sleep.
New Years Eve heralds another birth, Baby New Year,
a fresh bell, comes into our world with Heavenly wisdom
and the muscle to begin his guardian shift.
His labor, freshly mined golden nuggets of hope.
Every year, he gives the world and all within it,
another chance.