Long Family name Poems

Long Family name Poems. Below are the most popular long Family name by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Family name poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Family Name

It isn't where you come from,
Matters not where you've been.
It  isn't what your parents did,
That makes your name among men.

Your ancestors may have a name.
But what they did or not,
Has naught at all to do with you,
It's long ago forgot.

It's what you do yourself that counts.
You make your reputation.
You can make your family proud,
Or cause them denigration.

It takes time to build a name.
It starts when you are young.
It's the habits that you form,
While the song of youth is sung.

It takes less time to wreck a name,
Than it does to build it.
What you pass down to progeny,
Pride or shame, you've willed it.

Try to be the kind of person,
God intended you to be.
Live each moment with the thought,
He's watching over me.

Live each moment knowing,
Your every move He'll see,
And every word you ever speak,
Will all be heard by He,

Who sees and hears and knows all things.
Before Him we all stand.
Try to live within His will,
According to His plan;

And you will live a happy life.
You'll come through every storm.
Be obedient and kind,
And try not to conform,

To the world and wicked ways.
Drink but from The Master's cup,
So each morning when you rise,
The devil's mad you're up;

For God knows what we're all about.
This life is no mere game.
The Shepherd knows each sheep He owns.
He calls each one by name.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member WHEN FATHER STANDS NEAR

He stands beside his child  
the way a tree stands beside its shadow~  
not owning it,  
not shaping it,  
but offering a place to grow  
in the shelter of his presence.  

The boy leans in,  
trust quiet as breath,  
as if he already knows  
that the world is easier to face  
when a father’s steadiness  
is close enough to touch.  

There is no need for words.  
Love moves in the small distances~  
the space between two hands,  
the tilt of a shoulder,  
the soft gravity that pulls  
one life toward another.  

On Father's Day
what matters most
is not the weight of legacy  
or the echo of a family name,  
but the simple truth  
that a child stands taller~ 
when a father stands near.

Family Secrets

Rarely did the family speak
 of secrets and knowledge weak and indiscreet
 but as we all know, shared laughter and tears wept
draw out our secrets uncontained, never kept.

For years, my aunts were mysterious
 talking of our origins quite serious,
deciphering was impossible unless you knew
a few words to interpret better as you grew.

Little ears often strained 
 to know what grownups held hidden in their domain;
 listening for the words more easily understood
and in that revelation of not what happened but could.

Aunt and uncles, cousins too, disliked aunt Jean most intense
 and distanced themselves from the family name in their defense
 of the stories never to be told except in quiet retrospect;
Aunt Jean, you see, was wild, restless, behaving most incorrect.

She danced in bar room halls
 discarding her clothes for all
 as drunken men leered upon her naked form
 she was that way from the very day she was born. 

She was a free spirit, bipolar, un-diagnosed back then 
 freely taken in and loved by many men
 the black sheep shunned by our family
 looked down upon because of her own sense of sanity.

Why? The children never really knew
 except to follow the elders set cue,
 but as I look back over time
sanity may be found wanting in the selfless climb.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

My Life Story - Part 1 - the Early Years

Well I was born a bouncin' baby boy,

On June 23rd in Danville Illinois. ( Ill-i-noy - the s is silent)

 

My mom will never forget that special date,

Back in the year of '68.

 

Another birth in September of '70,

Ending in heart-wrenching tragedy.

 

My sister would've been my friend and pal,

But she didn't make it through the birth canal.

 

I would've been her big brother just two years older,

Mom was heart broken - didn't get to hold her.

 

Trying to write this is making me cry,

I can't stop thinking "Why God? Why?

 

Why did you take this bundle of love?

Did you need another angel above?

 

Well something good happened in August '72,

My mom married the only dad I ever knew.

 

I may not be of his own flesh and blood,

But he still called me "Son" and "Bud".

 

My dad adopted me and gave me the family name.

He treated us all one and the same.

 
- Love you mom ! -

- In loving memory of my sister (08/25/1970) also

- In loving memory of my dad (07/08/1947 - 01/16/2005)

I started this poem with the intentions of making it part of a

My Life Story collection of poetry. I'm not sure if I will continue

on with this intention or not. Should I decide to continue on with

My Life Story, the next stage will be concerning my childhood - and

the problems I went through as a young child.
Form:

Premium Member REFLECTION OF A WATERED ELDER

REFLECTIONS OF A WATERED ELDER

                                                IN AND OF WE GREENS  ?? 

                                                Like the bright green grass,
                                                We continue onward growth:
                                                God, fertilizing.

Our youth, moist and fresh,
Are in dire need of being dried and
Cured to withstand today's trying times.

Void of Rights of Passage–barely rooted
And anchored in the sustaining energy
Of ourstory, our youth have become like
Unchartered ships in aimless serpentine waters, 
Whorlwinding in a socio-psycho, bigoted cesspool:-

      In Proverbs and Psalms
       It has been collectively written:
       “Train a [child] in the way
       [They should go…[and] that the Lord
       Is [the] light in [their] salvation;
       [Whom] should [they] fear?”

The resurrection of the Village waits,
And the youth too; come, fellow elders,
Let us mirror and reflect ourstory’s journey
In a way our youths may envision their
Present-day destination: Least we fail
In ourstory’s present journeying:- 

  ??: Extended family name
Form: Prose


The Healing

Since I was young enough to remember
I was never good enough for you
And as hard as I tried to prove myself 
There was just no good that I could do
Through the beatings and beratings 
I just became a stain upon a family name.
And the wall around my heart grew so high
That I just buried all the hurt and pain
And one day I found someone who loved me
And I didn't know how it's supposed to feel 
And she helped wash away the scars inside
To where I finally felt alive and real     
I know longer wake up screaming
Fighting off the memories of your ghost
I sleep more peaceful now 
Knowing I'm surrounded by those who love me most
This heart is like fragile China
And I've seen it shattered on the floor
But ever since I've forgiven the monster
The monster can't touch me anymore
There's  freedom in forgiveness
 that washes away all pain
And this heart can learn to feel
 what it's like to love again .
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Pretty Bird

PRETTY BIRD

                                       The four toned bird on the shiniest branch
                                       in the forest somewhere, its short brown tail
                                       touching the tree while looking ahead from the 
                                      spot and the water runs beneath it

                                     The forest is covered in various kinds of leaves 
                                     surrounding the bird with four colors its blue head
                                     blending with its body of three colors especially with
                                     the light hiding its dark little beak

                                    The branch and the water glitter under the bird’s feet and 
                                    the water flows with the fall breeze appearing to be numerous
                                   shades of blue while the bird lets its thoughts drift thinking about
                                   where to go next – perhaps some place new

                                   The pretty bird’s family name is Bunting and even though travel
                                   Is both far and near there are still many destinations to which it has
                                   never been – its small body never feeling like tin nor does it drink 
                                   gin and hang around bins- one of the many sounds it longs for is,
                                  “Pretty Bird”
© John Long  Create an image from this poem.

Out of the Shallowness

Chose forgiveness
Love upon our pillow
Showed us where to go
Blessed our sleep
Guided feet
God is with us
I AM trust 
Pink shirt girl
Your love is out of this world
You always held out your hand
Lord's heart took care of his lamb
You made us twinkle
Even gave us sparkle
Birds of the sky
Will always have our Father's eye
Honor to our family name
Respected the Holy reign
True love does not fade
The silent star who he has made
Jesus Christ son of David
This crown they gave him
Wrote the words above his head
Just like it was said
New love of life
Jesus Christ
Remember
Bless each other

Premium Member The Dance

THE DANCE 

Hand in hand, heartbeats felt in palm. 
Resting embrace, making eyes close with calm. 

Blood rushing moments for the memorable kiss. 
Taking our hearts ransom for such a dance as this.

Time and eternity linking our existential truth, 
a passionate drinking from our fountain of youth. 

The dance to the rhythm of our engaging song. 
Dancing until we tire, for however long. 

As we dance planting trees for our forests to grow, 
Like acorns of little seeds cast down from a bough. 

It is the dance of all dances, so that we never age. 
Our family name and timeless story upon our infinite page.
Form: Verse

3 Blind mices

Firstly this child got close enough to know they were blind
Two he’s chasing mice(just like his hero Ed)
I mean the signs are there
Look at Mary
Let her play in the fields
and she returns singing of sunflowers
What was that one last week
Rember putting birds in a pie
Personally I would get him tested
Put safety locks on all your knives
Name me a serial killer who doesn’t know twinkle twinkle
Let’s create something that we can hang directly above our defenceless child face
And we will call it something fun…mobile
Yeah let’s make it move
Could a baby paint a house…
Deep ends
How hard I through this work
No serial killers were harmed or babies
What was Mary the opposite of
Who the  fills their garden with shells to make it.
Checklist 1.Earth
                 2. Manure
                 3. Where did all these maid come from
Is a sheep made of paper a tisewe
We
A
L
L

If you just sign your family name just on the line marked
And his first name on the line after
and you quite sure about this mr Dumpty
No takeies backies
Not an egg
So what was so special about this person
That an army was sent to fix him
Question 9. Why did he break into pieces
So basically he died
and we are warning our children about height
This guy sat on wall
Fell somehow broke into pieces
And a mad king sent his troops
to glue the eviserate together doesn’t have the same ring two to or too
You choooose
Sorrry some letttterss have bean escape ping
Form myy otter wrks
Knight.

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