Best Papa Poems
~ What Papa Taught Me ~
Save, don't spend
The good times will end
Extravagance, for fools
Frugality rules
A penny saved
A penny earned
A dollar wasted
Independence spurned...
Inflation, deflation
Whatever the situation
Cash is King
Credit ~ bling
You never said the words yet I heard them
all the time in your eyes as they crinkled
in laughter when you lifted me on your shoulders,
as I ran to you when you came with the dusk,
with the gold in sunset and silver at moonrise.
You never asked me not to cry, yet I saw
the dark chocolate in your eyes turn sour
at the salty waters running down my cheeks.
You went on a plane and I wished to have wings,
to travel free over your desert flyways for a while.
I never dreamed your dream, and had I known,
O, had I known, I never would have said yes.
Then, you never would have had to go away;
I wouldn’t have had to meet you, now inside a box.
My glass too shattered, I damn the river in my eyes.
Devices :Alliteration, Allusion, Assonance, imagery, metaphor, mood
For Cyndi MacMillan's FIVE PROOF: FREE VERSE THAT SHOWS IT AIN'T NO PROSE
21 January 2015
Have you ever seen bullfrog green jump across a Lilly pad?
Did you ever see gold moth bathing in a moonshine bath?
Do you watch as teal raindrops bless and baptize the stream?
Will you hear the wood windmill song it sings each spring?
I walk real close to the sandy coast where Nana and I share things
She told me once always have fun always be true and dream
I recall those days her voice her face I can still see her smile
The dandelions seemed less boring to me a wild city child
Papa came into the house with his muddy blue overalls
His gray mustache seems to shout louder than Pa talks
“The time is close and he is nearly broke come if you want to see
The albino pony being tamed from the only pack of wild ones near the creek”
My eyes grow big and I must admit I love excitement of any kind
So I dropped my book to have a look and ponder the pony so fine
The pony kicks and then it sits as if one final stubborn nerve exists
Then it saw me it started to scream and have all kind of fits
Papa says whew! This one likes you! Why don’t you say hi?
I was really too scared and had never dared to ride a pony or try
But for some reason I had a season of unusual courage to spare
I climbed the fence went straight to him
The pony with ice eyes white hair
As soon as I came close, he let out a little noise
It was as if he had hoped to find comfort in my voice
I didn’t know what to do or how I would earn his faith
But in a minute or two our eyes like glue
Stuck and we became mates
The pony calm was eating from my palm
And I feel a new esteem
Instead breaking the pony in
I feel he broke into me
Each day the boredom was swept away
By my pony friend indeed
I would feed him little treats change his hay
And he fed me spiritually
The pony still was a little strong willed
So no one was allowed
To ride him or take him anywhere
That was too far from the house
So times were slow even so the pony and I would play
He could do tricks and even dance a bit
If I ask him a certain way.
Pony bends and I get on him
Like the wind he rides to town
I find the nurse who was at church
And she calls others around.
So that summer I lost and found things
I would never willingly give up
Nana and kittens and Papa getting bitten
A pony and farm full of love.
A NOTABLE HORSE CONTEST
10/13/2021
SPONSOR ROBERT JAMES LIGUORI
~ Papa ~
Dawn broke uneasy o'er damp, dreary lane
Fish markets open, the merchant a-bustle
Hawking his fresh catch to eke out a gain
Daily routine, one of stressed, ceaseless hustle
Perils of prepping each fish for display
Callouses, cuts and old scars that he'd hide
Leathery skin soaked in brine and dismay
Profits already had started to slide...
Meanwhile at home wife and children slept sound
Knowing that Papa was busy at work
Earning a living straight up, pound by pound
Back-breaking labor which he would not shirk
Papa Giovanni, a man oh-so-proud
His praises be sung in the fish market loud
August 15, 2020
Strand Completely New (#25) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
C’mon Papa
The gauntlet tossed
The challenge…
Ten rounds
With a 2 year old
Speed vs stealth
Experience vs enthusiasm
Age vs agility
Castle builder vs the siege
Best two out of three cookies
Co-Co melon is not a fruit
C’mon Papa
Let’s go OUTSIDE…..
On that unhappy morning
The sad sun refuses
To shine on earth
The sky grumbles in pains
Just to announce the news
Sorrow and agony flit pin me
When I felt the bitter taste of death
The sour crisp wine
I hold him at high esteem
Oh! Death
Why stretch thou
Thy cold hand on him
In deed a tree has fallen
Oh! Our beloved PAPA!
I hope to see you again
On the harvest day
When the new earth shall come
(By Opurum Precious: Nigeria)
Copyright © odiboy 2016
Pillar of the home, backbone and strength
Astride, sitting on mama's needs
Providing, caring for the kids
Always working, caring less for rest.
The first guy who kissed me by my lips
Tickled me down to my fingertips
Careful to handle me with every grip
Selfless love without a director's script
You are my first ever boyfriend
Guarding me, every now and then
Always ready to mend and defend
''My ideal man'', you set the blend
Your strong arms have held me dear
My shield through raging storm of fears
Same wide open arms keep me on cheer
Every time there are thunder rolling tears
A gaze likened to a tiger's eye
Strict and firm with my cry
Yet, tender daring me with tries
Letting me free to soar and fly
Although now, I'm more than twenty
Father, your patience is so plenty
Providing me both love and penny
Even when things get so messy
Us, your family, is your sweetest cherry
With every ounce of life's' chevy
You remain ready and so sturdy
My love grows for you each day
Father... My ever dearest Papa.
Thank you for all love you display
I am sorry if by chance I disobey
Do know that I love you
More than those words (above) say...
__________________________________________
1:37 am, May 01, 2014
She twirls round and round,
In her yellow princess gown,
Her eyes all aglow with delight.
On her head sits a crown,
Plastic jewels all around,
A charming, adorable sight.
"Papa, dance!", she demands,
And he gladly takes her hands,
Twirling her around the floor.
Her laughter resounds,
And her joy knows no bounds,
As she cries out, "More, Papa, more!"
He tosses her high,
Bringing squeals and a cry,
As he catches her in his strong arms.
She smiles into his eyes,
Her love not disguised,
And he marvels at her innocent charm.
The little princess, now danced out,
Is fast asleep on the couch,
Dreaming of tea parties and such.
Without making a peep,
Her Papa watches her sleep.
He loves his little princess so much.
9/22/13
Written about my 2 yr old cousin Olivia and her Grandpa (Papa) Porter.
For PD's Any poem #5 contest
I’ve placed it in the most visible place
This old photo of black and white
Taken in 1943, the edges worn and frayed
Papa, Mama, and Winnie, eyes so bright
Though one by one they’ve all gone
Each leaving a legacy of love and faith
And while sweet memories linger on
This beautiful photo transmits still
When I gaze at beautiful eyes so soft
Rare warmth and gentleness reside
Dressed in their best, wearing subtle smiles
Beauty forever captured survives!
~*~
3/03/13
Roland Carey+
Ayeko Carey+
Winnifred Carey-Valentine+
Inspired by a beautiful photo of my parents and eldest sister...R.I.P.
by Gilbert Mapengo Mwanguku
Why so soon Pa?
I thought you should have been patient
Without being a patient on the hospital bed
You could have waited for a little while
To see me grow the seeds you bestowed in me
And let them glow to the world all over
But you hurried in a twist of events
Making events twist events of the future
You left our souls torn asunder
As you surrendered to the black thunder under
Whether it meant to be a starter of new life somewhere
None of us knew how to renew your life here
Like a thorn deep in flesh it endlessly pains
They are now calling us cowards
The award of your departure driving us backwards
Misery oozing out from these ruptured veins
You were a hero our pillow
In you we were relieved of our sorrows
We mourn you every morning
So as you eternally rest
Let there be peace in your nest
My Mama and my Papa. They're good and kind, pure and refined.
Sixty-three years together, their loves become genuine.
Like sweet expressions of art; Papa a poem and Mama a song.
With me, they share their wisdom. I listen and see their words take wing.
This is their story, spoken through his poetry and sung through her song:
Once on destiny’s field, a confident Poem chanced an eloquent Song.
By providence divine, the Jasmine intertwined with the Muscadine.
A Ruff-neck blue-collar, beholden to a bride of serene waters.
Two artists with a portrait in progress. Colored in Faith, in Trust, in Love.
One child comes. Another. Then two. Dressed in his rhyme, kept by her tune.
Four paved paths; scented with sweet Jasmine, bearing fruits of Muscadine’s.
Their children are raised and grand-baby’s grow. A harvest, good and kind.
Their past has become distant, but that love so genuine continues on.
It sails over waves of struggle. It conquers, even in the brutal storms.
Through the trials, the Song acquired her virtue and the Poem gained his grit.
Like royalties of time, Crowned with gray hair and cloaked in old skin.
To open-eared youth, they offer insight and share their understanding.
His wisdom speaks thru weathered words. Her sweet song waters thirsty ears.
Their portrait, is still being made. An aesthetic piece of art, valued thru time.
Sixty-three-year journey; their bodies display age, but their spirits are primed.
New Papa Adam
Saint Paul describes Jesus or Father Christ
As the new Papa Adam
Before his scars
Before his umbilical unsevered
Before the hurricane season
Papa made me proud.
Mama once spoke of comforts
His hands spinned
He and mother were in love
She lend me her mahogany gift
He carved smooth for her,
Papa made me proud.
I loved him in spite of nine fingers
One was severed on his job
I loved him even as he lingered long
I loved him though his presence was cut short,
Papa made me proud.
I watched him dig holes for renewal
I heard him strain, I heard his sighs; our house stood firm
I felt his energy, his passion for family,
Papa made me proud.
He rarely complained as he worked
He worked, and loved, and cried, and drank
He was drenched; spoiled, in Granny's love, yet,
Papa made me proud.
I can only imagine
He would trace many course for healing.
*
There comes a time
in the life of us all
when we're no longer hindered
and appreciate the small
Like birds of childhood to recall
When papa would sit
near the barns swinging door
To teach us their colors
and what Protection is for
They'd chirp and sing and suddenly soar
Oh...If I could return to yesteryear
Kindling the love that he taught
Just close my eyes and suddenly
I would want for naught
Knowing love can never be bought
5/4/13