Best My Children Poems

My poems are conceived, not within the womb,
which long time now has been devoid of seed.
My poems are born from a need to be heard:
my thoughts, passions, sentiments and beliefs.

They start as fragments,
flecks of ash from my mind's abyss,
a restless volcano that never long sleeps.
The...

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I’m tired of knowing
That because of my race
Because of where I live
Because of my last name
I’m part of the band…
The children of a lesser God

I’m tired of knowing
That there is so much hate
That it can only escalate
Till someone presses the button
And we blow up in...

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The Mother Tree

I am the mother tree that spawned the seeds of you.
My children, you've grown and branched away from me.
You've married, left home to start your life anew.
Where e'er you go remember you're my family.

My roots run very deep into the earthly soil.
My centered...

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Oh little one, how soon you'll be
In turbulence of puberty.
I will hold tight your days of youth 
And share with you my honest truth 

That innocence ingrained at birth,
Precious childhood days filled with mirth,
Will be so fleeting... you will see
The need for God's tranquility.

How grandma's...

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I know I promised
 no more ‘Make you Cry Poems’
I said I'd never write another 
‘Wipe your eye poem’

 And for three years 
I tried not to retract, 
but after so many tears 
I have to take that promise back. 

I write this Thesis 
after...

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THE BLACK
                                           ...

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Images of children dwelling in developing world
In plight of poverty~~ some two billion strong,
Fly a flag of existence, waving distress unfurled,
Crooning mournful song: is this where we belong?

Struggling in parched lands of bared dreary sights
World they live in is the world they have known,
Where days...

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St Anthony's orphanage was founded some thirty years ago
For homeless and orphaned children, by a priest Father Angelo
Every child was made welcome; race and religion mattered not
And every Christmas Father Angelo ensured presents they all got.

Throughout the year many fundraisers were held inside and out
Father...

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Screaming at the Sky
 
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky
holding their heads helplessly as they cry
pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered
in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars
drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity
on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but
who really gives a damn,...

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The innocence lost so long ago
The undying faith we used to know
The gentle rain of a summer's skies
You can find it all in your child's eyes.

The world was right one time it seems
And we could reach beyond our dreams
To meet a challenge of any size
That...

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The child is a poet with innocent eyes
And a bumpity A-B-C rhyme,
A dancer whose feet with the rhythm of life
Move in jubilant one-two-three time.

The child is a doctor who heals with a kiss
And treats with a serum called smile,
A researcher who seeks out the meaning...

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The mustard seed 

a wild mustard seed took flight 
carried aloft in gathering light 
over thistle'd sage and poppies  
in countless colorful copies

as brash rain showers subside 
the retreat of angry clouds abide
scolded by the Northern wind 
in search of infinity's final end

once barren...

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Wondrous poems are melodies
Emancipated from live trees
Freed at last from trunk and limb
Freed at last to sing their hymn
Transplanted in the hearts they've torn
Transplanted by the poets they've borne
Echo in our hearts as rhyme
Echo through the sands of time
Written down with pen and ink
That all,
...

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When I hold your hand, happily you trek along 
Because you trust me to know where I'm going.
Listening to my stories, you hold my sight intently
Being proud of me, you consider me all-knowing.

Whether I teach or not, you always learn from me
For innocently you believe,...

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Haunted by the death of dreams 
and slaughtering of innocence 
but too afraid to dig up the bones 
and examine our own mistakes, 
we bury our heads instead, 
blindly following greedy leaders 
who give nothing but hollow words  
and meaningless moments of silence. ...

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