Son i truly hope you know
How much you mean to me
I know at times I make it difficult
But somehow I hope you see
I don't mean to be so tough on you
For me emotions are hard to show
And I'm doing the best I can
To guide you as you grow
Life isn't an easy journey
We don't always know what to do
As you bear witness to my struggles
Know I want better for you
As my baby boy grows into a man
This is all I will ask of you
Have a heart gentler than mine
And take pride in every thing you do
And know that not a day goes by
That you don't fill my heart with joy
I pray you know how much I love you
And you will always be my baby boy
A boy living alone
Never gave up like a stone
Struck by stern and stormy weathers
Yet surviving like a full grown-dog, playing around heathers
The most popular newborn male’s name in Israel in 2025: Muhammad
I guess that’s what happens when 'Jews commit genocide'
They start giving their kids Moslem names, don’t they
~ Any other fraudulent claims you want to accuse Israel of today?
________________________________________________________________________
If you doubt the truth of line one, please, please fact-check to your
heart's delight.
To make sure that lines two and three are clear: They are written
as total satire; They are completely and unequivocally untrue!!
The population of Israeli Arabs - that's right: Israeli Arabs who are
full citizens - while only about 25% that of Jewish Israelis, is growing
so fast that Muhammad is the most popular name for new baby males
in the entire country! Amazing! (Some 'genocide,' eh??)
I translated this from German to English. Which unfortunately makes it less elegant.
To share my love,
nothing more painful can I imagine,
than to tear my heart in two.
To be bound to someone eternally,
but never fully belong to him
There is neither yes nor no,
just endless desire.
To be betrayed, in the
most cruel way, is not
with the body, but
with the heart.
Chaos of emotions, Love and
Suffering have never been closer to
each other.
How will this End, no
solution in sight
With pain and tears?
I don't know
The obligation, to have to make a decision
weighs heavily on my Shoulders
The boy tossed the old denim shoe over a limb,
during a summer dare.
He meant to retrieve it, but forgot.
The tree kept it the way trees keep old things.
And the sparrow, small and serious,
looked at that denim hollow
and saw a home no one else imagined.
It’s the kind of story where the world
doesn’t fix what’s broken~
it simply lets something new grow inside it.
The day I arrived
in my own good time
(not at all shy)
neither early nor late
13th July
I remember it well
t'was a memorable date
as a present from my parents
(their pride and joy a baby boy)
a Wednesday I recall
some time in the morn
the best day of my life after all
for it was the one
on which I was born
leather car seat feels
like your poaching an egg
at ninety degrees
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow ¦¦¦ on a green tree,
¦¦¦ he chirruped, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ so merry ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
A ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ boy came with his ¦¦¦ bow and arrow,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ to shoot this ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow.
"This ¦¦¦¦¦¦ cock-sparrow shall make ¦¦¦ a stew,
And ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ pie, too."
¦¦¦¦ no," says the sparrow "I won't ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ he flapped his wings ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ he flew.
(Blackout of Boy And The Sparrow by Mother Goose)
brewing burlington bunny blunted
cockamamy communications caliculus
his hemisphere her hector
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 17–23, 2026)
I'm a good boy, gone bad.
It's pretty sad.
I'd ruther
you didn't tell mother.
I
corked
the last
lightning bug
in this Coke bottle,
too precious for any matchbox,
distinguishing it from slugs, snips, spineless annelids;
for no other reason than juvenile sensibilities, vainglorious captures,
nothing for practical science, all to preserve a boyish reputation that made me aleatory, dire, perilous, savage, bland
but pride, quaintly, comes as I bear its marginal light, dwindling the dutiful darkness of evening, like faint choking hymns of elder choristers; hence I pray it shall be till morning, since fireflies have no engagements with the sun
I could be your valley boy when the city gets old
slice of home packaged up brand new, we can take it slow
wear that vest that first hit me in the supermarket aisle
I’ll wear short shorts
my hair messy, all the while
in your car we can talk about the years gone by
and you’ll tell me you’re sorry and I’ll ask why
breathe me in, hold me close
I’ll trace the hairs on your head
and I’ll have you wishing we did this years ago instead
I could be your valley boy if you’re feeling down
you feel like you have it all
you can’t explain your frown
give me the weight of how you’re feeling
I can take it all
you can’t believe how much I have changed since we left school
I could be your valley boy if you’ll allow it
stranger things have happened and these days I’m empowered
we don’t have to tell anyone it can be a secret
I’ll give you every part of me and you can keep it
Prompt "Funeral of fireflies"
Funeral of Fireflies
Winter
Bites
The street
A jute bag
Bare feet bleed
Torn cloth holds no warmth
Hunger walks beside him like a shadow
His eyes are small fires begging someone to buy bread and bring heat
But hope dies
Like sun
On a cold
Mountain peak
Snow falls, silent
He wraps himself in jute, a coffin
At midnight fireworks bloom while the world forgets
A boy dies at twelve with light still trapped in his eyes, a firefly no one cupped
The city drinks
And laughs
Above his
Frozen grave
We buried
Kindness
Tonight the last fireflies went out
Juliet asked, “What’s in a name?”
and, methinks I shall do the same.
What have; Bo-Peep, Boy Blue, Jack Horner,
Miss Muffet, Poll Parrot, Red Riding Hood,
Robin Redbreast and Tommy Tucker
in common, scale-wise, that's underststood?
As none of them are related,
the subject may seem brittle,
altho' not small, or what I call 'tall',
one and all, they are 'Little'.
When he said his name didn't believe it to be
thought the boy was making fun of me
Through diabetes had lost two toes
wearing sandals and it shows
Gordon was really an okay kid
kinda thin like he needed to be fed
Bushy wavy hair with eyebrows to match
as if above his eyelids bushy caterpillars had hatch
His voice was squeaky being a growing boy
lips thin, eyes big and ears like a Dumbo toy
He was average height looked healthy enough
but breathing through his little nose looked tough
His smile was his charm and lighted up the place
had to smile back seeing his cute smiling face
Gordon skate boarded and the boy could fly
soaring off ramps into the sky
He must have done skateboarding for awhile
falls were few and he had that skater's style
He looked young but was tall for ten
as a kid likable always with friends
Growing fast as a boy should
that Gordon kid in my neighborhood
Was polite and respectful but a tinge of sass
but that smile cover for him his laugh oddly rasp
Never had children through the point may be moot
If I ever had a kid hope he would be like Gordon Oddfoot.
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Definition | What is Boy in Poetry?
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