Long Familyday Poems
Long Familyday Poems. Below are the most popular long Familyday by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Familyday poems by poem length and keyword.
The quiet rain dispelled any thoughts of a rain out.
It was Fenway, it was Father's Day,
And within the sacred realm of wooden bats,
Unswung and dumbly waiting,
There is the halcyon hope of impact
This on our first day of summer
Like the first day with our father
When he slapped us on our day-old baby chests
To keep us alive, keep the beeps beeping,
Forcing life's tiny engine to re-fire,
Making love's literal labor rumble back into place
Like the slamming of the hood of the car or
The smacking of the hanging breaking ball or
The blowing up of balloons, in school, for winter's child
Who needs to see the swelling of life into vivid colors
So that he'll be tempted to speak through the tumors
And show me how even more not-so-small, slow miracles take form,
Like the oldest man on the team,
On the mound, leading the league in wins,
Like my father putting a lunch together,
A salad, asparagus, and sausage in three
Giant containers I could never fit in my work bag
So in a flash he grabs this nifty-sized paper bag out of nowhere,
(the nowhere where the cabinet and the refrigerator is),
That dark and unspeakable vertical slit
Where all things crawl to be forgotten
Except by my dad who hears nothing and attends to everything
Scrambling even now to get a lunch together for his
29-year-old son who slogs eye-blinkingly around the kitchen
As morning-dumb as the day of his arrival
With the first pitch, the first slap, the first symbol of love.
Father's guide us through the passing fog
Like a lighthouse with a hearing problem, on wheels,
Barreling into the future, keeping the ball moving,
Keeping the world working.
The father is our Sun, Summer's Eternal Boy,
Guiding truth (or his version of it) where it need go:
Another Red Sox win,
Another sandwich made,
Another reason to smoke a cigar.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
As long as you promise to keep swinging
I'll promise to speak up. (And answer my phone.)
There, in the kitchen of this modest dwelling,
A cheerful room, in spite of its lack of grandness
Home to the little family
Who gathered together each evening
For string beans and mashed potatoes,
Eating with relish at the rectangle of oak
They recounted a day filled with stories
Of the playground mishap,
Of the clearance sale at the hardware store,
Significant things or things without matter
The scene reconstructed, each night of the week
With new accounts of a busy day
A ritual never lacking in importance.
This coming together at the end of the day,
While chomping away on an unidentifiable casserole,
Filling the belly, as well as the soul,
Consuming tidbits of noodles, and wisdom and the love of being together.
Until, one day it was time to retire
The humble piece of oak with the four wobbly legs
For something more presentable. Something more impressive,
That would serve the expanse of a family
Which had grown in numbers throughout the years.
How could anyone have known the significance
Of that aging old table with its warp in the middle?
The sag she had tried to hide with a checkered cloth.
Those who sat there day after day, hardly aware of it's meaning.
This old oak piece, having withstood crayon marks, spilled milk,
Even small holes from the time when father, while repairing a picture frame,
Had accidently hammered nails all the way through and into it's top.
Who knew that a weathered old piece of wood would be witness
To such love and importance
And in itself, was more worthy than
Anything this family could have ever imagined?
My Joy
There is a woman crafted in the furnace of God’s eternal fire,
And for millennia, God has waited for her arrival,
For she was to train two sons who would live for his glory,
And she lived a life of suffering such that she might empathize with their struggles,
And though she made many mistakes,
She has been my truth, my wisdom, and my light,
Often reminding me of realities that I would rather ignore,
She has raged against the rager on my behalf,
And when satan had agripped me, she rose up against him and said, “NO!”
For there was a time when I writhed in darkness,
And only she understood,
With an understanding that stemmed from the cosmos,
From the cosmic tree of life, she fed me fruit,
And I survived,
And I tell you, I see her future,
I see her standing in glory with Mother Mary before her,
And I know Joy,
Her name is Melba Lucas, she is my Divine Light, and it is from her womb that I know my
beginning,
She is my strength when I am weak,
She is my courage, when I might cower,
For she walks in the eternal alpha and omega,
And there will come a time when she no longer walks the earth,
But not until her work is done,
And when that day comes, I will not sorrow, but I will rather rejoice for heaven’s gain,
For in times when clouds would obscure the brightest sun,
She is my Joy.
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY MOM!!!
ONE DAY YOU WILL GROW UP.
ONE DAY YOU WILL LEAVE HOME.
I DREAD THAT DAY.
BUT I KNOW DEEP IN MY HEART YOU WILL RETURN.
I PRAY EVERY DAY YAL DON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES I HAVE MADE.
I PRAY THAT YAL WILL BE BETTER THAN ME.
YOU WILL GROW UP ALITTLE MORE EACH YEAR.
YOU WILL SEE THINGS IN LIFE THATS NOT RIGHT.
I PRAY THAT YAL DON'T FALL INTO THAT LIFESTYLE.
I PRAY THAT YOU WILL NOT FALL INTO PEER PREASURE.
I PRAY THAT I HAVE TAUGHT YAL WELL.
YOU WILL SEE CRIMES.
YOU WILL SEE PEOPLE UNABLE TO HAVE A NICE WARM PLACE TO SLEEP.
YOU WILL SEE ALOT OF THE BAD.
I AM TRYING TO SHOW YOU THE GOOD IN THE WORLD .
BUT IT IS NOT THE SAME AS IT USE TO BE.
THE WORLD HAS GOT WORSE INSTEAD OF BETTER.
I SEE CHILDREN YOUR AGE EVERY DAY OUT ON THE STREETS .
AND I STOP AND PRAY THAT IT WILL NEVER BE YAL.
THE WORLD IS CRULE .
THE WORLD IS UNGIVING.
THE WORLD JUST DON'T CARE.
AND I PRAY EVERY NIGHT THAT YAL WILL BE GREATFUL FOR WHAT I TRIED TO TEACH YAL.
I GIVE MY ALL TO TRY TO PROTECT YAL.
I GIVE MY ALL TO TEACH YAL THE RIGHT WAY .
AND NOW IT IS UP TO YAL TO TAKE THIS CRULE WORLD BY THE HORNS .
DON'T GIVE UP .
AND THERE IS ALWAYS A PLACE FOR YAL AT HOME.
AND DON'T BE SCARED TO CALL UPON ME FOR HELP .
I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YAL.
YOU BOTH ARE MY WORLD , MY LIFE , AND MY BABIES .
NO MATTER HOW OLD YAL GET.
Form:
Sharing Saturday
Sometimes I sit down and without any warning
I think about cartoons back on Saturday morning
How my siblings and I gathered around the T.V.
And then argued and bickered about what we'd see
Mom and dad would awaken and come out yelling
And everyone had a story that they'd start telling
Dad would get so mad and it always ended the same
We all found ourselves grounded when Saturday came
We all had our programs that we just had to see
The problem was that we only owned one T.V.
Till one day mom announced she'd found a solution
We'd all take a turn on a four week revolution
That day we agreed that we'd all hold our tongue
As we each took our turn from oldest to young
After that morning Saturdays passed by so fast
Her plan kept on working as the years drifted past
Now we're all grown up and have kids of our own
Who always argue and whimper and bicker and moan
I wish I could teach them to share or take a turn
I think it's the best lesson that they'd ever learn
By: Jeremy Siedlecki
Sibling Rivalry: Hitting
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Time after time my brother hit me.
Rather than fight, I would quickly flee.
Too many days, I ran into mom.
Sometimes she'd explode just like a bomb!
One day she looked me straight in the eye.
You must fight back. You must at least try.
Don't come crying, if you haven't hit back.
I will spank you. You'll feel the switch crack.
How I could do it, I did not know.
Smack my brother so courage would grow?
For several days, he left me alone.
Then, it happened, a hit then a moan.
Down on the ground, he was in a flash.
I, on his chest, his face I did bash.
Over and over my fist hit face.
One last slug and to mom I did race.
Right behind me, steadily crying.
To hear him, you'd think he was dying.
She started to scold; I did remind.
You said, “Hit him… “ Or trouble was mine.
That was the day I stood for myself.
And put some fear to rest on a shelf.
The day I learned, through my brother's moan.
Thanks goes to Mom, my courage had grown.
Another day another hour
time spent with friends, it's never sour
We cruise all day, hit up the town
drive the square to see who is around
We have all the time, no matter the day
We love life, how every option has a way
We crank our music, shun the haters
drive away from police, there nothing but dictators
We have no worries or doubts in our head
We are who we are, we are never mislead
Everything we do, is for our enjoyment
We do it as if we are ready for deployment
We are not scared of time, because we use it our advantage
We get through it all we always seem to manage
Dont look at us, and wish that was you
No one wants to her your crap, you wimpy Blink 182
We are the 3 brothers that drive
Heads held high
Until the day that we die
Bandit
That first day he took his own room
He doesn’t want anyone in there
Especially to sweep with a broom
From day one he’s been housebroken
He barks at me like crazy
If he were human he would be outspoken
When it comes to rodents he is daring
He’s gotten slower and other losses
One being his hearing
He has lost some of his sight
He won’t go down the stairs
I have to turn on a light
About his nose for him to smell
When I take out food
It’s like I rang a dinner bell
He won’t leave me out of his sight
He follows me around the house
He must be with me day and night
He likes outside in the cold
He dislikes summer
My dog now at 15 years old
An Apple a day keeps the doctor away
Or so my mother would say
My granny said the same
To keep the ailments tame
A little tummy ache
Many times I would fake
Immediately mama would stand
With an apple in hand
A little sniff when weather turned cold
Thankfully would keep the school on hold
Soon granny would be beside
With an apple sliced
A heat stroke I would suffer
Going out without cover
My mama would be near
Giving an apple she held dear
Both mama and granny would love to say
This is an apple’s day, an apple’s day
All the sickness would melt
If with an apple a child dealt.
Inspired by the saying--- An apple a day keeps the doctor away.