Here is a list of Family Poems ordered by Random, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Faithfulness
There is a certain faith of which I am particularly fond
Not one in which I find fulfillment in ignorance
Where promised luxury and happiness abound
But rather from a stark and real sense of wealth
Not so simple as faith in money, tho
That is not where I find my consolation
This life is far too short for such a thing
As embarrassing and meaningless as fiscal power
To know that she maintains her faithfulness
To reward the efforts I have attempted
Which, in the same way, cannot be bought
But only given to one they feel is so worthy
This, in return, strengthens my resolve
That I may be her rock and fortress
And my confidence the steel threshold
For the gate through which she takes refuge
Not one in which I find fulfillment in ignorance
Where promised luxury and happiness abound
But rather from a stark and real sense of wealth
Not so simple as faith in money, tho
That is not where I find my consolation
This life is far too short for such a thing
As embarrassing and meaningless as fiscal power
To know that she maintains her faithfulness
To reward the efforts I have attempted
Which, in the same way, cannot be bought
But only given to one they feel is so worthy
This, in return, strengthens my resolve
That I may be her rock and fortress
And my confidence the steel threshold
For the gate through which she takes refuge
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Have you considered, perhaps, not only whom you place your faith in, but who might place their faith in you?
Madhouse
Up is down and down is up
And sideways thoughts assault me.
Babbling noises blast my ears
Devoid of rationality.
Chaos rules this mad house
As the time ticks slowly by
Accused of countless wicked things
That no one can deny.
It matters not who's nuts or sane
when 'ere those forces meet
For neither one can ever win
Nor can accept defeat.
It's all just utter madness
And it's just gone on and on.
And cannot, will not ever change
'Til one is out and gone.
Gone for good or just a week,
It's a damned fine change of pace
And I really need a holiday
That's miles from this place.
Contented days of sanity
Are waiting now for me.
Beyond a single wakeup past
A count of days just three.
And sideways thoughts assault me.
Babbling noises blast my ears
Devoid of rationality.
Chaos rules this mad house
As the time ticks slowly by
Accused of countless wicked things
That no one can deny.
It matters not who's nuts or sane
when 'ere those forces meet
For neither one can ever win
Nor can accept defeat.
It's all just utter madness
And it's just gone on and on.
And cannot, will not ever change
'Til one is out and gone.
Gone for good or just a week,
It's a damned fine change of pace
And I really need a holiday
That's miles from this place.
Contented days of sanity
Are waiting now for me.
Beyond a single wakeup past
A count of days just three.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
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MANNERS
They are not a gift you receive,
They cannot be borrowed or bought.
It's your character, would you believe,
Or have you given it any thought.
You get them as you're being raised,
Or learn them on your own.
A well mannered person is highly praised.
Ill mannered people are left alone.
A lack of manners is very rude.
A mannerless person may not realize,
The extent to which they are crude.
Sometimes we must open their eyes.
Inmates often know of respect,
Not many of them have manners.
They're criminals, what do you expect,
Business suits and Day Planners?
Many times they have to fight,
Because of a lack of manners.
Not easy for them to see the light.
You have to wave them banners.
Good manners will make people smile.
They help make a good impression.
Without them you are most likely vile.
And often cause oppression.
Bad mannered people are often unwelcome.
They're usually tolerated for a while.
I wish they'd all go learn some,
And give us reason to smile.
Criminals have common characteristics.
Lack of education and manners are two.
Their lacking adds to our statistics,
Making things rough for me and you.
Written 10-18- 09
They cannot be borrowed or bought.
It's your character, would you believe,
Or have you given it any thought.
You get them as you're being raised,
Or learn them on your own.
A well mannered person is highly praised.
Ill mannered people are left alone.
A lack of manners is very rude.
A mannerless person may not realize,
The extent to which they are crude.
Sometimes we must open their eyes.
Inmates often know of respect,
Not many of them have manners.
They're criminals, what do you expect,
Business suits and Day Planners?
Many times they have to fight,
Because of a lack of manners.
Not easy for them to see the light.
You have to wave them banners.
Good manners will make people smile.
They help make a good impression.
Without them you are most likely vile.
And often cause oppression.
Bad mannered people are often unwelcome.
They're usually tolerated for a while.
I wish they'd all go learn some,
And give us reason to smile.
Criminals have common characteristics.
Lack of education and manners are two.
Their lacking adds to our statistics,
Making things rough for me and you.
Written 10-18- 09
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2014
About this poem:
I was getting frustrated by the lack of manners of those around me.
BROTHER
there was a boy that i once knew
now he is alone
and on his own,
he is leaving the nest
to go to a place where he will
hardly ever rest.
he stands so tall
with his back on the wall
and without any reculation
he defends the GREAT NATION!!!
with a gun in hand
looking at his target to kill his enemy
he feels so GRAND
knowing that he can save so many lives
by the pull of one trigger
and without a blink of an eye
he, who is serving this GREAT NATION,
and threw the frustration
you can be sure
there will be domination
cause he is a solider
a true soilder
he has made is family safe
he has made me safe
HE KEEPS EVERYBODY SAFE
he is my hero
and will always be
my hero
this is my brother
this is blood
keeping me safe from harm
keeping all of us
safe from harm
now he is alone
and on his own,
he is leaving the nest
to go to a place where he will
hardly ever rest.
he stands so tall
with his back on the wall
and without any reculation
he defends the GREAT NATION!!!
with a gun in hand
looking at his target to kill his enemy
he feels so GRAND
knowing that he can save so many lives
by the pull of one trigger
and without a blink of an eye
he, who is serving this GREAT NATION,
and threw the frustration
you can be sure
there will be domination
cause he is a solider
a true soilder
he has made is family safe
he has made me safe
HE KEEPS EVERYBODY SAFE
he is my hero
and will always be
my hero
this is my brother
this is blood
keeping me safe from harm
keeping all of us
safe from harm
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
this is about my brother who has made me proud. he is a solider in the USAF and like every solider i want to say THANKS FOR ALL THE DEDICATION AND HARD WORK THEY DO.
30 Odd Years
Here I stand, holding steady but leaning perilously close to falling forward into the mess.
Looking around me I see the cigarettes my father has smoked these 30 odd years since he began.
I can smell them and feel the need to vomit but nothing comes up
As a kid my father couldn`t die, couldn`t age, and couldn`t be hurt. He was like an immortal Greek God.
Now that he`s fighting to be somebody in a world that dislikes the unique, talented, artistically inclined people, his tears tell me something different.
My father is human.
And he can hurt.
He has aged.
And I don`t know whether he can trust himself
All these years of promises..."I`ll quit."
Maybe he isn`t as strong a person as I thought.
I`ll have to keep from falling for us both.
Looking around me I see the cigarettes my father has smoked these 30 odd years since he began.
I can smell them and feel the need to vomit but nothing comes up
As a kid my father couldn`t die, couldn`t age, and couldn`t be hurt. He was like an immortal Greek God.
Now that he`s fighting to be somebody in a world that dislikes the unique, talented, artistically inclined people, his tears tell me something different.
My father is human.
And he can hurt.
He has aged.
And I don`t know whether he can trust himself
All these years of promises..."I`ll quit."
Maybe he isn`t as strong a person as I thought.
I`ll have to keep from falling for us both.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
About this poem:
Since I was 8 years old, my father promised me he`d quit smoking. He`s tried the patch, cold turkey, and has done it half heartedly at times but it never stuck. He tells me he`s healthy but his tears worry me as his life takes a dramatic change for standing up for himself. If he`s so happy about all these projects coming to him and his business, why can`t he let the rest of him be happy, and finally let this vice go...Written 3-12-11
you would smile a lot more… Part II
“…if only you knew who you were, if only you knew what was in store for you, you would smile a lot more…”
Anonymous guru
Flash-forward many more years to a suburb of Johannesburg, South Africa… I was walking along a dusty road with one of my six precious daughters, who, will, of course, remain anonymous. She had just lost her precious and wonderfully-healthy 32-day old baby girl to murder at the hands of our little angel’s biological father, a psychopath, who, in their right minds, would, after all, kill their own baby with their own hands? We had done our very unpleasant duty and finished with the 2-year court case, which sentenced the boy to 30 years in prison, and we had decided to go home to Africa, to, if at all possible, heal and find some meaning and hope to go on, though none of us felt like going on, we just wanted to join our celestial lost baby girl…
My very special and very gifted and talented and much beloved young daughter, was at last at the end of her tether, as she was torn in a gazillion different pieces from her fiery trial…, sans hope, sans feeling… At that point we were in a field, suddenly, she just sat down… The field was a typical African field, I noticed, peripherally, broken glass everywhere, empty soda bottles, wrappers of all kinds, some blobs of human excrement here and there and the nauseating stench of human urine permeated the hot summer air…
I knew what was coming, devastated, I sat down with her, with a finality that alarmed my academic mind to say the least… we both just burst out in loud tears and inconsolable wailing, the great drops of our life force falling on the African soil upon which we were both born, and love so much… Luckily, the field was out of the way and no passers-by noted our rite of passage… No words were exchanged, we just emptied ourselves of the pent-up agony of our souls for the day, as it is not possible to gain total catharsis in a day, or a year or a life-time or two…, no, rather, like a volcano, you release what you can for the day, till the next eruption… incoherent phrases, like:
“Go on without me, please, Dad, just leave me here to die, I am not getting up again…”
“Never, my daughter, I will perish here with you…”
“Why Dad, why…”
“I have no idea, my daughter, none, whatsoever…”
“Am I such a great sinner Dad, that God had to take my baby away…”
“Of course not, my angel, you’re still a babe yourself…”
Continued in Part III
Anonymous guru
Flash-forward many more years to a suburb of Johannesburg, South Africa… I was walking along a dusty road with one of my six precious daughters, who, will, of course, remain anonymous. She had just lost her precious and wonderfully-healthy 32-day old baby girl to murder at the hands of our little angel’s biological father, a psychopath, who, in their right minds, would, after all, kill their own baby with their own hands? We had done our very unpleasant duty and finished with the 2-year court case, which sentenced the boy to 30 years in prison, and we had decided to go home to Africa, to, if at all possible, heal and find some meaning and hope to go on, though none of us felt like going on, we just wanted to join our celestial lost baby girl…
My very special and very gifted and talented and much beloved young daughter, was at last at the end of her tether, as she was torn in a gazillion different pieces from her fiery trial…, sans hope, sans feeling… At that point we were in a field, suddenly, she just sat down… The field was a typical African field, I noticed, peripherally, broken glass everywhere, empty soda bottles, wrappers of all kinds, some blobs of human excrement here and there and the nauseating stench of human urine permeated the hot summer air…
I knew what was coming, devastated, I sat down with her, with a finality that alarmed my academic mind to say the least… we both just burst out in loud tears and inconsolable wailing, the great drops of our life force falling on the African soil upon which we were both born, and love so much… Luckily, the field was out of the way and no passers-by noted our rite of passage… No words were exchanged, we just emptied ourselves of the pent-up agony of our souls for the day, as it is not possible to gain total catharsis in a day, or a year or a life-time or two…, no, rather, like a volcano, you release what you can for the day, till the next eruption… incoherent phrases, like:
“Go on without me, please, Dad, just leave me here to die, I am not getting up again…”
“Never, my daughter, I will perish here with you…”
“Why Dad, why…”
“I have no idea, my daughter, none, whatsoever…”
“Am I such a great sinner Dad, that God had to take my baby away…”
“Of course not, my angel, you’re still a babe yourself…”
Continued in Part III
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
Post Comment
One for the Road
Standing over them,
I touched their backs but they didn't turn.
They walked right through me.
How could they do that to me!
I sew and heard their cries
But I didn't know why.
They had surrounded a coffin.
I took a look with-in.
It was me.
Dead as I could be.
But then I woke up
I had enough.
I'll take a drive,
But I won't wake my wife.
I'll drink some wine,
Then I go out in 5 minutes time.
Drank as hell.
What was that smell.
Driving to fast
And that was my last.
So the dream came through
Who really knew
That to drive this way
Would make it my final and last day.
I should have lesson to my dream,
Inside of think it was just a scream.
Now I'm so sorry,
Please don't worry.
I'm still here
My little dears.
I touched their backs but they didn't turn.
They walked right through me.
How could they do that to me!
I sew and heard their cries
But I didn't know why.
They had surrounded a coffin.
I took a look with-in.
It was me.
Dead as I could be.
But then I woke up
I had enough.
I'll take a drive,
But I won't wake my wife.
I'll drink some wine,
Then I go out in 5 minutes time.
Drank as hell.
What was that smell.
Driving to fast
And that was my last.
So the dream came through
Who really knew
That to drive this way
Would make it my final and last day.
I should have lesson to my dream,
Inside of think it was just a scream.
Now I'm so sorry,
Please don't worry.
I'm still here
My little dears.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2012
About this poem:
So I did this on the composison about a man who went out driving while he was drunk. Which was one of my H.W.poemI also did this, to make people think before the go out driving drunk .
A Hero
A hero can be anyone,
You're important to someone.
You don't have to save a life,
To be a hero to your wife.
You're a hero when you do,
More than what you have to.
Providing things for those you love,
Teaching them of things above.
Teaching others to do their best,
To try harder than the rest.
What they should and should not fear,
And the morels we hold dear.
Helping them to grow mature,
Living life honest and pure.
To do their duty all the time,
And to never commit a crime
Many do that which they should,
Some do not, though they could.
Others only what they must,
Those doing most are easier to trust.
You should be a living example,
Nothing good ever to trample.
If you want to be your best,
You must do more than the rest.
You're important to someone.
You don't have to save a life,
To be a hero to your wife.
You're a hero when you do,
More than what you have to.
Providing things for those you love,
Teaching them of things above.
Teaching others to do their best,
To try harder than the rest.
What they should and should not fear,
And the morels we hold dear.
Helping them to grow mature,
Living life honest and pure.
To do their duty all the time,
And to never commit a crime
Many do that which they should,
Some do not, though they could.
Others only what they must,
Those doing most are easier to trust.
You should be a living example,
Nothing good ever to trample.
If you want to be your best,
You must do more than the rest.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2014
About this poem:
I have written about 200 poems and they are still a work in progress.
Living In Two Worlds
Do not be fooled by this silly fool’s grin
How my day went don’t know where to begin
Like hiding how hopeless I feel within
Please pour me a glass of tonic and gin
Unfold my cramped arms from across my chest
Been all day since I took a real deep breath
Work shakes me up get all fizzy when stressed
Sometimes my life is like dancing with death
At last I cross through the portal of home
It’s time to check my baggage at the door
Always good to hear a hearty ‘welcome’
Such simple greeting is hard to ignore
Not keeping apart two worlds is a sin
Where one leaves off let another begin
How my day went don’t know where to begin
Like hiding how hopeless I feel within
Please pour me a glass of tonic and gin
Unfold my cramped arms from across my chest
Been all day since I took a real deep breath
Work shakes me up get all fizzy when stressed
Sometimes my life is like dancing with death
At last I cross through the portal of home
It’s time to check my baggage at the door
Always good to hear a hearty ‘welcome’
Such simple greeting is hard to ignore
Not keeping apart two worlds is a sin
Where one leaves off let another begin
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2012
About this poem:
Exercising that balance between work and home is a daily ritual for most of us.....this poem relfects on that.
Friends and family
Sitting in the sun !
Having me some fun !
Haven't been home for a year!
Lots of tears we shared !
Now it's time to cheer !
I'm even drinking a beer !
All the friends that use to be
Are here for all to see !
How much we've aged
I remember when we would sit out front
Getting drunk !
Some are still the same !
What can I say ?
It doesn't change the past !
For we always had a blast !
We all sit here and share our favorite stories !
And many memories too!
Some even pull out old pictures!
Oh the laughs we share!
Nothing could compare !
A few have passed away !
All were remembered today!
I will go to the cementary
Visit my mother and my father
Thank them each for a special gift !
My mother I will thank for giving me my brothers !
My father I will thank for loving another's children !
It's been 20 years since I moved away !
The deep love I have for my friends and family
Still feels the same to this day!
Here's to another glorious day!
Having me some fun !
Haven't been home for a year!
Lots of tears we shared !
Now it's time to cheer !
I'm even drinking a beer !
All the friends that use to be
Are here for all to see !
How much we've aged
I remember when we would sit out front
Getting drunk !
Some are still the same !
What can I say ?
It doesn't change the past !
For we always had a blast !
We all sit here and share our favorite stories !
And many memories too!
Some even pull out old pictures!
Oh the laughs we share!
Nothing could compare !
A few have passed away !
All were remembered today!
I will go to the cementary
Visit my mother and my father
Thank them each for a special gift !
My mother I will thank for giving me my brothers !
My father I will thank for loving another's children !
It's been 20 years since I moved away !
The deep love I have for my friends and family
Still feels the same to this day!
Here's to another glorious day!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
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