Pain creeped in with the early hours of the morning,
I was doubled over in pain.
As I was screaming,
my dad was wrapping me in a blanket.
Off to the hospital he sped,
then carrying me through the big doors.
My appendix was about to burst open,
emergency surgery was for me.
He Was a Child Once, Too
He was a child once, too—
before the dusk outgrew the dawn,
before his little hands knew
how much a heart could carry on.
A face once lived beyond his sight,
then slipped away from memory’s light;
and childhood, like a fading tune,
grew quiet beneath a borrowed moon.
He became a roof in someone’s rain,
a little warmth against their pain;
he gave his flame so others could see,
while darkness kept a place for him silently.
He wore the years like a borrowed coat,
kept every storm inside his throat;
and though the world saw strength in him,
I know the child still lives within.
To me, that man is not merely strong—
he is the real hero of my life.
I love you, Abu.
— Zehreen
Before the midnight hour chimed
A white wolf crossed albescent snow
And saw me with its diamond eyes
Shining right into my soul
I miss the woods where Dad and I
Sat by the coppice of conifer trees
The warmth of the winter sun piqued my mind
Nature’s aroma wafting in the breeze
The years have eased the ache of loss
And let the Northwoods live once more
White snow, warm meals, and paths we crossed
Return like footsteps to my door
For every memory, I give thanks
For love, that time cannot unravel
And pray beyond these earthly banks
We’ll meet in Heaven by God’s gavel
Everything is crushing down again,
his mind is gone and his body shakes.
I used to say he was like a ticking time bomb,
because we are just waiting, but it´s even harder on my mom.
Usually, he finds his way back,
But for us, it´s really hard.
And for me to help, I have to be tough,
But I only want to make him laugh.
I hope this time is no different
And that we can have some more time,
Before his mind becomes indifferent
And we can only say goodbye.
That fearful moment is getting closer,
But this time I think we are prepared,
We just hope it´s not too hard on her,
And that we can all just remember the moments we shared.
Now he is gone,
And we just have to go home,
Knowing he is in a better place now,
With no more suffering
And we have to learn to live without him somehow…
Sometimes I don’t decide; sometimes I do.
Really, I always take a decision –
Choosing nothing’s a decision too,
But not a choice of no revision
As if refusal makes an incision.
Now my dad has offered me chips,
I’m feeling my willpower slip,
My answer holding all my weight.
I let go to taste… but regain my grip.
There are healthier snacks that still are great!
What can I say?
Did I know you wouldn't stay?
Why did you play?
Was our bond just moldable clay?
Why did I get a formal "father",
When I just wanted a "dad" who'd bother?
When I was small, I wished to be big,
Tired of playing this childhood jig.
But once I grew up, I wanted back small,
To escape the shadows that made me feel tall.
My teenage years were drowning in tension,
While they relaxed and lived on a pension.
You demanded so much more,
I asked, "Is there nothing else in store?"
You screamed that you still wanted more!
Was my existence just a tedious chore?
They want the girl to build a home,
Though she was left to weep alone.
Mother sees the rising evil,
But she prefers to love her own
Sweet devil.
Daddy, there's an octopus in the cellar.
Dear, the octopus is an ocean dweller.
Daddy, now the octopus is in the attic.
Dear, the octopus is known to be aquatic -
just as I have told you, daughter.
Daddy, but the house is underwater.
Sometimes I think of all the lives I could’ve lived, all the careers, plans, and people I could’ve met, and I sit with myself and sigh, “Ah, if it weren’t because of him.”
I wanted to be a hairdresser, but he laughed at me.
I wanted to be a cook, but he said that it’s already my duty.
I wanted to be a teacher, but he mocked me.
I wanted to be an artist, but he couldn’t let me be.
Some other times, I think of all the places I could’ve been, all the cafés, the exhibitions, and the little shops I could’ve liked, and I sit with myself and sigh, “Who’s stopping me?”
I wanted to be everything, anything, all at once.
And I remember that I still could be.
Chances are
Come time to remain
It wears our crest
It knows of our land our domain
Deep thought in time of massacre
But after, that's when the River can explain
I released the burden
The arrow out the quiver
The AR15 or the M16
But this time, there is no profit to save us
Proof of reverence deep in our vein
Today, I feel a fight but with no man or life against
Just to keep water below my neck
The ones should never be given the power
Poverty's grip bounces in the street
Then acts like a clown and becomes the wind
The weight is incredible
But it floats away
Carried by those with love deep
Enter the invited invaders
Their white hanker-chief waiting to be
Someone with a free ticket
Someone the opposite of me
¦¦¦ masks and metamorphoses of ¦¦¦¦¦ Native Son
¦¦¦
¦¦¦ icy evil ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ravished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ into madness
trapped ¦¦¦ in violence of a punished self
struggling to break free.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
he fled his name, became the quarry of
his own obsessed pursuit.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ swinging those chicks
in the hot rose and reefer glow.
His injured childhood bullied him.
He skirmished ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ cannibal flowers of the American Dream--
but could not hurt the enemy
powered against him there.
(Blackout of El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) by Robert Hayden)
You’re walking now
in perfect paradise,
your vision restored
like never before.
You get to be with
all who have gone before.
No more pain.
No more suffering.
Your memory lives
in each of us,
in the stories you told
and the time spent together.
We cherish
each of the memories made,
missing you here on earth,
but we all know
you made it home
to live eternity
in perfect paradise
with the Lord by your side.
In the house of many mansions
We know you’re looking down on us
from heaven up above,
watching over your loved ones.
We know how proud you were
of all us kids
and your grandchildren too.
We love you, Daddy,
and we will miss you deeply
until the day we reunite
in perfect paradise.
Watch over Mommy
as she goes on
without the love of her life.
Send her little reminders
every now and then
to let her know
your love will never end.
Goodnight, John-Boy.
Rest in peace.
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father's house has many rooms... I am going there to prepare a place for you." — John 14:1-2 :::
Written for my father who passed away June 7th 2026
used to refer to as we said goodnight.
A baby will be born; I don't know when.
I'll take care of them the best that I can.
I'll give them love and affection beyond tomorrow,
So I won't have to say, "Baby, I'm sorry."
I'll take care of them and give them everything
That the virtues of the world cannot bring.
Make every moment special so life brings them joy.
I will love every moment spent with them, whether it's a girl or a boy.
I’ll be able to raise them to not have any doubts
And teach them the truth of what life is all about.
So when they are married and living on their own,
It lets me know that we did everything right with the blessing from "The Father and The Son."
They say blood is thicker than water
Maybe if you weighed it by the gram
Rule obeyed by every son & daughter
Ham it up when you are in your pram
A through strife of life transporter
With some families it can be a scam
Parents don’t love like they oughter
Sadly behave badly don’t give a damn
Should be your ultimate problem sorter
Even when your are in a real jam
Treat their offspring like a free porter
As your emotions they will just slam
We are just a lamb to the slaughter
As your devotions like a bull they ram
They should be your bricks & mortar
Older realise I’m in their folder of spam
Despite fact they should be a supporter
So with our friends the good times cram
Because sometimes famalam is a sham
Deepest fears deplete the darkened mirror
The shallow artifact goads the seer
Lamps switch between worlds
Starlight crimp and burn
A hellbent crucible is near
.................................KITE
up high
in the sky
with a trailing tail
floating without a care
in between the cotton clouds
"my dad's gift to me as a child"
(Podium 1st in Joseph May’s Clarity Pyramid Poem)
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Definition | What is Dad in Poetry?
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Related Poetry Forms
daddy, father, father of the bride, father time, fathers day, grandad, godfather, grandfather, great grandfather, pa, papa, parent, pop, procreator