Long Parenthood Poems

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


Premium Member Being quiet for Ben

isn't easy
because I talk about nothing
all the time.

It is late March and I love
everything I see
around me:
blooming trees
that I don't know
but appreciate
one color at a time,
bees that are busy and
industrious, sunsets that 
are never identical and always
 worth ogling over, 
as well as
the bare buds
of creativity and song.  

That was a mouthful
of a stanza
that I hope 
you swallowed down
as smooth as a lozenge.  

I tried not to embarrass
my cool kid.
I tried not 
to get excited
about the birds
in the trees
who could care less
about golf, and scores,
and fancy pants, and awkward
golf carts.

I made it five minutes.

Then, I asked Ben:
"Did you hear 
the goldfinch."

Immediate 
embarrassment 
ensued.  

I learned my lesson
and went back
to my golf cart
to continue drawing
the goddess of war
because I admire
strong women 
who face battle
when it counts.

They are the women
who don't shut up.
© CC Bloom  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member About Parenting

For gentle is the spirit of parents 

That listens intuitively to a child’s echo,

An accompaniment from their breaths
 
Speaking only purity of thought--

Without deceit or adult-like fakery:  like so,

Night birds croon in deep esteem,

When moonlight leads their youngster home… till

Burst of morning glistens  on a child, 

Utterly joyous and fed with familial love

While heaven bows back to man and wife,

Humming tunes of praise for safe journeys…

A couple devoted, guiding their child’s essence

That makes his world ever brave and authentic.



Silent One's Parenthood Contest
10/18/2017
Form: Verse

Premium Member A Question To Parents

When our first child is born
we celebrate the day
at that moment we don’t care
if they are bi or straight or gay

We only care they are alive…
have all their body parts...
that they are breathing on their own…
and come with healthy hearts.

And each time we are blessed with a child
we celebrate that day
still not caring at that moment
if they are bi
or straight
or gay.

We only care that they are close to us…
that in their lives we play a part
that they all have gentleness in their souls…
and kindness in their hearts

And so parents of the world I ask this question: 
As we think back to our initial vow…
If we didn’t care when they were born…
Why should we care now?
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Support To Abort

Rights we are born into are being stripped. 
Ability to plan one’s parenthood is ripped. 
By replacing mid-election a progressive. 
With this barbaric right wing repressive. 
 
Our American families will be disrupted. 
Since the Supreme Court was corrupted. 
The toxic volcano Coney-Barrett erupted. 
Causing family choices to be interrupted. 
 
People assume it’s a young woman issue. 
But it’s sadder than that, so grab a tissue. 
It also sets back men, kids and retirees. 
Unless money for moms grows on trees. 
 
Funds are not being raised for their bills. 
Grandparents will leave less in their wills. 
Since horny boys have not begun careers. 
So the girlfriends and parents shed tears. 
 
The pro-lifers celebrate poverty caused.
As bright futures of women are paused. 
Parents’ savings and 401-ks are drained. 
Because the antiabortionists complained. 
 
Adults must choose diapers over degrees. 
In fear of these new restrictive decrees. 
Men forced into child support over tuition. 
Slaves to Amy’s baby factory institution. 
 
Seniors return to work to cover the cost. 
Competing with youngsters for jobs lost. 
For the unskilled moms with no net worth. 
Supporting results an of unwanted birth.
 
These kids learn to live off charity and aid. 
Lacking parent role models who get paid. 
Being told to do as I say, and not as I do. 
All because of a mistake from their screw. 
 
They are reversing decades of progress. 
Backwards priorities causing a regress. 
Destroying livelihoods of young and old. 
Justices unaware of the chaos they mold.
© Adam Segal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member LEGEND THAT'S COMMENDABLE THROUGH PARENTS' LEGACY

Gracious fortress of caring fortitude
Guarding by their compassion’s latitude
Governing to soar through faith’s latitude
Guiding with attitude of gratitude…
God blest our parents’ love-packed magnitude!

Daddy’s chromosomes in his fatherhood
Blended with Mama’s genes midst motherhood
Nourishing fully healthy babyhood
Toward fruitful nurture of adulthood…
Yes, we salute their faithful parenthood!

With Dad and Mom’s steadfast, sweet partnership
Around strong and endearing fellowship 
We, their children did learn wise stewardship
With glad followship and joyous worship…
Creating in us servant-leadership!

Good provider always – that’s Father
Gearing housekeeping skills of Mother
Indeed complementing each other
With their home-craftmanship together…
They’re role models to me, Sis and Brother!

Along their driving mentorship force
We’re trained to enjoy our daily course
To work well, shutting slothfulness’ doors
Warned against problems brought by debt-source…
Around contentment and commitment discourse!

As masterpieces’ molders, so clear
Dad and Mom with guidance, very near
Kept us counseled midst precepts we hear
To face functionally pressure-tear…
Oh, they propelled us with righteous steer!

In their consistent life-building zest
They sought God’s instructions for what’s best
Shaping behaviour toward finest
For virtues crest, inside values’ nest…
Praying for our future, vibrantly blest!

Championing kindness against hatred’s pain
Dad and Mom let us savour pardon-gain
With forgiveness pursuit, sans guilt’s stain
Freeing our hearts from bitterness-strain…
Making our home thrive in heaven’s domain!

They’re not perfect since we saw them pout
Sometimes, their assertions made us doubt
But they never failed to reach us out
With beware cautions against wrong route… 
Now, we are on right track; “Thanks so much.” We shout!

As great heroes in their own right
My parents* radiated truth’s light
Constructing sturdy legacy-height
Victorious by the Lord’s grace and might…
Along priceless name yon treasures’ delight!

*Ephesians 6:1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.

March 30, 2024
2nd place, "Legend" Poetry	Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 4/10/2024
Form: Epic


Premium Member Watching golf

is worse than death,
or so I imagine.

Watching my only son
play in a middle school
golf match
on a Monday evening,
after work, and
driving 40 minutes
to the middle of nowhere
has got to be
worse than death,
giving birth,
filling out tax returns,
and watching
the squirrels.

At least the squirrels
get to scamper
up the trees
and “accidentally”
chuck acorns at my
pathetic head.

It’s a nice view
but only nature can make noise
during this
seriously quiet
competition.

Maybe I’ll spot
a pine warbler,
or a crow will caw
(laugh) at me.

I should have brought
two beers.
© CC Bloom  Create an image from this poem.

A Good Man

Looks after his family and treasure's his wife.
Does not let his parents struggle in later life.
Does not cause others trouble and strife.
Makes every day the time of his  life.

Try's his very best never to grow up .
Go's to the football and a pint with the lads.
See's a yellow traffic light and speed's up.
Spends a day at the races with the other lads and the dads.

Compassion runs through him like others blood.
A need to help others if and when he could.
Maintain peace and nurture brotherhood.
Be a good son, brother  and excel at parenthood.

And try  to live your life by these  golden rules.
Treasure your family as if they where gold
And your friends as if they where precious jewels
And never vote Tory  or make war .


comp entry  2910   (read trump for tory to my American friends)
fun

Sunbeam Souls

Date:8 October 2020

The Sunbeams pass
slamming the door to a heartbeat.
A generational rejection 
to my face that softens my feet
while I cringe on more notes.

An evolution that has
declined, suppose I curl 
my spine towards
an endless beauty 
of highly stylized  wrinkles.

The more I witness.
the fierceness of my tribe ages.
The angry men that I have raised
as rocks seek my eyes and tribulations.
Take me to a timeless peace.

Dissolving into another,
bridging the breathing has
taught me to harvest better energies
as I pay my daydreams 
until we meet.

I have felt unknown shivers
in these streets.
Raising the parenthood 
of all these teenage feels but still 

he found a way to move into my soul.

Advice For My Child of Heaven's Paradise

Do not look or wait for heaven’s kingdom, for it is in and outside of you 
Never tremble to ask for a hand to get through 
Pray without hypocrisy or you will fool just yourself 
Pray every day and night till the last breath itself 
Do not let the left hand know the crafting of your right hand 
Build your house on the cornerstone, not drifting sand 
Watch with care all animals and plants as your eye’s pupil 
Love your friends as your own light without a scruple 
Make peace with yourself to make the mountain of this world move
Do what is bright even when your colleagues reprove
Ride the heavenly horse, since you can’t ride two as a pair
Hear the neighing of heaven’s pleroma through prayer
Form: Rhyme

Mothers' Day

Mothers should be celebrated
Every single day,
But instead it’s once a year – 
Well, what is there to say?

You enter into parenthood
And do what you must do.
Quite often, in a family,
The mothers are the glue.

We hold it all together
With a little help from dad;
And wonder, when our kids grow up
What life they’ll think they had.

Psychologists assign us blame.
We must be trauma’s cause;
But hopefully, with age, such thoughts
Will give our children pause.

Perhaps they’ll somehow understand
The depth of how we feel
And recognize a mother’s love
Is bottomless and real.

It’s lovely to receive a card,
Store-bought or made by hand,
‘Cause it acknowledges that sometimes
Things work out as planned.

And, in addition, if you got
To see your kids today,
Appreciate the fact
Good fortune held you in its sway.

Mothers’ Day will soon be gone
Yet if you are in luck,
That glue that you set long ago
Will still be strongly stuck.

The calendar records the time,
One day like any other;
You do not need a holiday
To reach out to your mother.

For she is always there for you
When life gets tough or hard;
Her blood is flowing in your veins – 
She needs no gift or card.
Form: Rhyme

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