When we were kids, you liked to torment me, go to the park and climb the highest tree.
Run across gullies at high speed, leave me on the other side with shaking knees.
But then there were days by the TV watching Banana splits and Christopher Lee.
Going to the fields to hide in long grass then run round the streets and fall on our ****.
We moved like gypsies from place to place, new schools, new people, we accepted our fate.
The boy with the golden hair was by my side and I wasn’t lonely cause we were best mates.
Then came the day we no longer roamed, found schools with good teachers, at last we were home.
We got on our bikes to explore the estate; cautious and wary we sped round the place.
To our surprise the kids were friendly and fun, not hostile or tough, or in your face.
Young ones, older ones, boys and girls, down by the brook all summer long.
Through escapades, bonfires, occasional tiffs, the Steppingstone gang stayed strong.
My Husband
My Golden Spoon!
When I was swimming in the waters, I saw a boat to swim towards.
I never knew that it would become my lifeline,
though it was just a piece of wood.
It stayed with me, accepting all my thoughts.
The breeze once opened its eyes
and taught me to talk.
— Poor thing, it carried so many droplets of water;
I wonder how much it suffered in the water.
Once upon a day, I fell in love,
and I met the same water again.
I searched for my lifeboat yesterday,
trying to understand what was so special about
this “best piece of wood.”
And my mind finally realized—
it was my “Golden Spoon.”
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
If there's no light, I'll create it.
If there's no fire, I'll make Warmth.
If kindness is lacking,
I'll gently place my hand on the wound.
If the ether is missing, I'll call it.
If the shelter is crumbling, I'll fix it.
If home is unreachable,
I'll build another with integrity and might.
If the joy is no longer, I'll find it.
If the spark is out, I'll light it.
If conciousness is gone,
I'll sit with you quietly to remember.
If the noise is too loud, I'll bring quiet.
If the quiet is too loud, I'll bring poetry.
If meaning is no longer present,
I'll remind you of how time and space aligned so we could look into each other
They ask about my first love.
I tell them she ruined me.
Before I knew what romance required,
She was already teaching me
That love looked more like sacrifice
Than butterflies.
She worked when she was tired.
Smiled when she was worried.
Went without
So I wouldn't notice we were without.
Looking back...
Every woman I ever loved
Had to compete with a standard
She never knew she created.
She taught me
That love never needed applause.
I watched her give away
The better portion of herself,
Then somehow convince everyone else
She still had plenty left.
I've spent years searching
For another heart like hers.
Never found one.
Then I remembered...
I wasn't supposed to.
She was my mother.
No wonder no one else ever stood a chance.
Tried it all
Parents scared of my thoughts
Have a lot of lives
A past say; not exactly
At the end all come to a point
Wouldn't say talent or hidden either
A curse to me, didn't like the things.
Was not exactly a beginner
Never thought I had it in me
The freer the verse the deeper the cuts
Good for nothing; Yeah I was
Why care about people did they cry with you
Too much stress too little time
I want some, at least one to hear.
I was a child with questions, no answers in sight,
Why was love absent, why was home not so bright?
A little girl stood in a storm alone,
Searching for love that she had never known.
But then two hands held me, old yet so strong,
My grandparents whispered, "Child, you belong."
They did not ask about my scars or past,
They gave me love that would forever last.
They taught me to read, to write, to dream,
To find my voice, to proudly scream.
Where mother left shadows, they gave me light,
They turned my darkness into mornings bright.
So no, I am not broken, not lost anymore,
I have found what I was looking for.
I am not the tears my childhood knew,
I am the love my grandparents grew.
Mama Squirrel fussed with her curls,
claiming they were “the finest fall swirls.”
Her leaf-crown of gold,
kept slipping in the cold,
Papa strutted like he was king of the squirrels.
Junior kicked leaves in a blaze,
sending showers of amber in playful displays.
Pumpkins lined the scene,
cider steamed warm between,
and the portrait looks like they were a bit crazed.
Twenty-five years have passed,
yet the memory still remains,
a morning filled with sorrow,
a nation washed in pain.
The towers reached toward heaven,
then disappeared from sight,
leaving behind a silence
that still echoes every night.
We remember those who never
made it home that day,
the mothers, fathers, sons and daughters
who were taken far away.
We remember every hero
who ran toward the flame,
while others ran for safety,
they answered when we called their name.
The firefighters and the officers,
the strangers helping strangers too,
the countless acts of courage
from red, white, and blue.
We remember those in heaven,
and the families left behind,
the empty chairs, the photographs,
the memories frozen in time.
Though years may pass before us,
their stories will not fade.
For every life that was taken,
a promise must be made:
To remember their names,
to honor what they gave,
to cherish those beside us,
and never forget the brave.
So today we bow our heads,
with hearts both proud and torn,
and whisper through the years:
We remember.
We honor.
We will never forget.
America care about your children, your family, your land, your environment and send the others to the place that makes them happy.
America has cared for many, has lost many, continues to care for many, yet has failed to take care of its own.
America is like a business, like a clan, like a passed-down vine that has grown and learned, and continues to grow with each new season.
America care for your children, your family, your land your environment and send the others to the place that makes them happy.
America care for your freedom, freedom to grow, freedom to learn, freedom to be free and many more ways that make us proud to be American.
End the genocide of America and care about your American family, send the others that hate America to the place that makes them happy.
God gave us freedom, God is freedom and love and many other positive things that we love.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Todd spent two weeks working in a seaside town
Til he and his boss man had a falling out
He packed up his bag, paid up his motel,
& he was outta there like a shot
before the sun went down
He hadn't seen his wife in quite a long time
So he couldn't wait to be homeward bound
By: J.N.R Dutton
Robbie came home in the evening it was 6 p.m.
He'd come from a hard day of work again
He had himself a plate of steak and eggs
and a cold sweet tea,
Sat down to hang out with his family
No matter what stresses his days would bring
Coming home to them was always
the perfect thing
By: J.N.R Dutton
Tears fall
Lived in New York City all my life
Now I am relocating to Los Angeles
It’s hard for me to leave
A new life for me
Not Hollywood status
A change of horizon
Here I am at the Greyhound Bus Terminal
Friends and Family gather to see me off
It will be hard through the hugs and tears
This is my time to preserver
My Greyhound Bus Departure has been announced, and it’s time to board
My tears pouring down
Bye to my friends and Family
Thanks to my Grand Father and Mother
You both told me how to survive
That’s wisdom in my stride
From days on, I have your guidance to look upon
It won’t be easy, but understanding will reign true
Time for me to board
Crying and feeling like I don’t want to go
Sitting in my Greyhound bus seat with a recline to begin
The Greyhound Driver closes the door and we back away from the Gate
I wave bye and cry at the same time
My journey begins
My new home away from my original
New Day New thoughts
Maneuvering from the East Coast to the West Coast
Being the young man stable west.
834.
Wala Nang Pang-Family Needs
Nung ako ay tanggalin
Sa CapSU noong 2016
Family Needs ipinagkait sa'tin
Pambayad ng kuriente wala na
Para sa ilaw at iba pa
Sa pamilya nalang inaasa
Pambayad ng tubig wala na
Para sa inom, hugas, ligo at laba
Sa pangungutang nalang inaasa
Pambili ng gamot wala na
Para sa maintenance ng ina
Sa RHU nalang inaasa
Nang sa CapSU alisin ako
Wala a po
Na Pang-Family Needs tayo.
-11/07/2022
(Dumarao)
*My Losing CapSU
Never say never, always say "perhaps;" unless it's a
Wedding, a funeral, or your daughter's v-ball game.
Never say never, instead say "maybe."
Never feel forced to use rhyme, tired is the fad despite the ear's need
To smile at the sound of music; rhymes are for the dullard,
Like Dr. Seuss and Mother Hubbard.
Never say never to your kids lest your aim is to model
Human folly & the grace-skill of Forgiveness.
This will all be over soon so please don't cry.
Y'know this whole poem goes way better with chicken stir-fry.
Family Categories
Read wonderful family poetry on the following sub-topics:
addiction, beautiful, birthday, black, blended, broken, brother, christian, christmas, death, difficult, father, fathers day, funeral, funny, graduation, grandchildren, grandfather, grandmother, hard times, holiday, hope, inspiration, love, mother, mother child, mother daughter, mothers day, niece, relationship, rhyme, sibling, sister, step families, trials, values,
and more.
Definition | What is Family in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
ancestors, aunt, brother, children, cousin, descendants, family life, family tree, father, genealogy, grandfather, grandmother, in laws, mother, relatives, siblings, sister, uncle