Relationship Father Son Poems | Examples
These Relationship Father Son poems are examples of Father Son poems about Relationship. These are the best examples of Father Son Relationship poems written by international poets.
His days he spent pleasantly
as befit his soft upbringing
running the family business
counting the money pouring in
leaving the real work to his brother
One day their father passed –
deciding to attend the burial
he was startled to see a rabbi presiding
father was not Jewish, was he
Does that mean, he wondered –
could it be that I’m Jewish
But he dismissed the preposterous thought
buried it deep in his conscience
Father – thy name is Strength
And Courage
And Wisdom
Forever art thou the castle
And the Fortress
Of my Faith
Thy name shall be eternal
Within the Mansions
Of my many Dreams
They are your Dreams
And my life
Is your life
Even unto infinity
As the seed gently planted in the soil
Lives and Dies
And lives yet more…
So, too, do the Hopes and Aspirations
Of Fathers live in
Their Sons
And Time Honors them!
Nothing complex about His love,
A relationship with Father above,
To seek Him is to love Christ,
Father, Son, Holy Spirit a trinity spliced.
Bronny James’ game
came up lame
demoted to the 'G-League'
~ fawning media's shame
Relentless guilt screams her name
His cowardice brought on her regretful shame
Womb silencer, he's a false friend and true foe
Thirteen years of patience. She needs to let go
She roared with loyalty to his weak manly reflection
Undeserving of her patience, his love was an unfortunate infection
He's like a disease in her heart, she struggles to be cured
We told her many times he was never matured
Enough to be a bold righeous man
And take her generous giving hand
In marriage and walk down the aisle
Man up and make her heart smile
This toxic situation ignored its expiry date
Refusing to open her eyes to reality and the path of fate
Her frowning heart is filled with melancholy and sorrow
Move on my friend to a real man and happier tomorrow
(Inspired by a friend of mine)
Knighthood tale
While we look back at the past
Great memories keep rushing back
As today is the joy of many tomorrow
Many yesterdays have no hiding places
Though i live to love you forever
Love walks away from the reminiscence
As a good name is coated in gold
Streams of joy and happiness
We are going to tell you fables!
From the king tables for nobles
Great Men are the Men of the past
Like a titan fall among the minnows
For a living dog is better than a dead lion
As pages are born for his knighthood
A great knight is a crowned king
Many fables and tales to tell
His world is full of wonder
as sober as pie of honors
Something to remember than flowers
As a friend closes at the same heart.
How glad I could be if, like the teaching of the Gita
I can renounce the fruits of each of my tireless labour.
Being a long way from the perfection of Lord Krishna
Midst lost gifts, I'd seek my son's note that I value greater
As boyish, buoyant naughtiness navigated his road
Fun and frolic outwitted his fervour for true wisdom.
Roaming carefree, like a hippy, his youthful trails he trod
My hopes for him were hushed like the glows of a broken prism.
He grew up with his mother dead; I was his all in all.
My chides pierced his heart, which, I know, might be like a knife.
Like a gipsy, with a note, he left; didn't write or call.
That precious note is lost; I feel as though I've lost my life.
Silver, gold, or gems would never match a paternal bond.
Though in the travails of time, bonds tend to fly far beyond
Once I thought
the 'Generation Gap'
was a pile of crap
Yet today
I think it's here
to stay...
I felt scared and naked
Though fully clothed
I felt lonely than a loner
Never felt like this on the inside
I knew I had breached the great divide
The shield had lost its defense
My undoing has done me in
Woe to me! I am undone
I am a man of unclean lips
I have entered His presence unworthily
I carried unholy fire in my censors
I dread the reactions of my actions
Nadab and Abihu didn't have a second chance.
With trepidation I approached the throne
Crying "touch my tongue
Cleanse me with the refiners fire
I come bowed pleading for mercy
Appealing on your compassion.
Renew the right spirit within me
And restore unto me the joy of salvation
(Written 23rd of March 2015)
My father told me every day
If you've nothing nice to say
Don't say it!
God, give me strength
to honor Dad's request
and then to forward pay it!
His father cast such a long shadow
He couldn't step out, no matter he tried
Wherever he went, whatever he did
Folks looked at him as 'the president's kid'
He came to think his dad liked it like that
So the kid swung from a rope ~ that was that
I stood at the edge of hopelessness,
Losing my son when my ex-wife left
My spirit was at its lowest ebb, I confess.
I could only imagine the loss of his smiles,
I can honestly say, I was completely bereft
Separated from him by hundreds of miles.
My ex- knew nothing of parental cooperation,
She was filled with meanness and revenge
Adam was the real victim of the separation.
Soon she was remarried, making a new life,
But I longed for a relationship with my son
Free from the vindictiveness of my ex-wife.
Twenty-three years later, I met my son,
He was no longer under his mother’s care
His relationship with her was over and done.
In her desire to shut me out of his life
Promoting a rift that ultimately failed
She became the victim of her own strife.
Adam and I are close as we can possibly be
And, we have recovered much of the past
Nothing could ever separate him from me,
For I have found in him a love that will last.
Written March 19, 2022
[tercets with a closing quatrain]
I remember nights on the south side porch
After a full dinner & nothing on TV
We gather to sit talk and listen to cicadas cry
High
Into the spring night
Or deep into the fall gloom
Or even long into the summers eve
We watch lightning playing across a dark sky
Anticipating the wrath of summer storms
Or fall rains, spring showers
I’ve remember my father weaving
Tales of another time
Another place stringing memories
Into entertaining far away worlds
He would strike a match
A light will flare and highlight
His deep creviced face
I would watch enchanted as the amber
Light of his cigarette tip trace lines in the night
Weaving tapestries of other times
Seasons long gone in memory
Orange the color of his history
The pumpkin light dance deep into the night
As he wove stories of another past
memories of his childhood
With each deep inhalation of breath
A Spark would flare an outline of his heavy creased
& well warn face
Sparks would twinkle in highlights of
deep aged UMBER eyes
Like reflections form long ago summer suns
Or deep harvest fall moons
I wish I could write a Father’s Day poem
Telling about my father’s great love for me,
Maybe sharing a story about his dedication,
His making a loving home for our family.
A poem that would suffice if it were true
But, alas, it would simply be make-believe
No kind, loving, fatherly things can be said
Of the kind of father my mind can conceive.
I cannot recall a single happy time I spent
With my father when I was growing up a lad
He never gave to me a loving gesture, or
Said, “I love you, Son” or acted like a dad.
I remember many times he made me cry
Times when he threatened and bullied me
Times when he was deliberately abusive
And, forced me to do things unmercifully.
When I observe a happy father and son
I feel incredible surges of pride and joy
For their beautiful, coveted relationship
I never experienced growing up as a boy.
Written June 18, 2021
Some saw him as a gifted author
Others aware but didn't bear to bother
He only cared to be there unlike his father
At first it was the worst he started to Pother
Even the air wasn't fair
For the Young scholar
He didn't dare lift a hair
As she took away his toddler
Her anti social dispair
Desperately needed a doctor
The pain he sweared
Was hell as the degrees increase much hotter
He was tired like a spare
But kept his head above water
They said on contraire
As they began to uneven the totter
He was there to declare
Yet their sins entered pins like a cotter
Wounded impaired
Held together with solder
The two were a pair
Father and son, no daughter
Indeed its not rare
That the sick pick who to slaughter
Ill leave it right there
With the thoughts caught left to wonder