First Time close Maria D. For you are my daughter someone is concerned timelessness. Falcon in blended @ Family Friend Poems Create a Link Click in the subject-matter bottle up unbefitting and ape the traditions (CTRL + C) Html Link ...Readers who liked this poem also liked. Category A� Subcategory A� Poem Title. Family A� Mother Daughter Poems A� Precious Gift. Family A� Mom Poems A� A Poem For Mom. Family A� Mother Daughter Poems A� Mother, Daughter Bond ...I felt a poem on the homecoming rape should be posted here. Daughter, Our Daughter By Nordette N. Adams When I was young, I sought boys' praise, hoping a knight scooped me up onto his fast white stallion. On the radio ...My name is Kathy Maher, a mother to two wonderful kids, and a daughter to a nice and classy lady. I hope you enjoy reading my blog. If this is your first time here, you might want to sign up below to receive new posts in your email. ...Poem Of The Day Monday, October 12, 2009. Category: Family Subcategory: Mother Daughter Poems. Votes: 40 Rating: 4.63. I wrote this poem for my first born, she was the first "reason" I had to keep on going. It's my way of telling her ...My daughter, Violette, has a project where she has to read a poem to people and have them sign to say they heard her tell them the poem. She read it to a bunch of people, but she needs a bunch more to accomplish her goal. ...Forever Poems for Now and Then a?� Raphael Tuck Die Cut Booklet "Under the Blue Sky" Poem & Lithographs a?� Sterling Silver "My Daughter My Friend" Pendants with Chain #5001 a?� Mother Daughter Bond a?� Mother Daughter W Poem Lot 2 Premade ...Mother Daughter. Mom comes today for our San Francisco holiday together! More to come on whereabouts and shenanigans...but I'm guessing teatime everyday like we try to do at home. Posted by Megan Taylor at 8:20 AM. Labels: Teatime ...Poem Of The Day Wednesday, October 07, 2009. Category: Family Subcategory: Mother Daughter Poems. Votes: 78 Rating: 4.62. I dedicate my poem to my Mother, your Mother, and all the Mothers of the world who sacrifice their lives everyday ...Little's collection of poems of 1792, The Poetical Works Of Janet Little, The Scotch Milkmaid, is dedicated to the only daughter of the fifth earl, the Right Honourable Flora, countess of Loudoun, then twelve years old (Paterson 83). ...
A really close friend of mine is pregnant, were both 15, im a lad, shes a lass, obviously....
I wrote her this poem to say well done, and, im just wondering what kind of impression it gives off, im not too sure: ???
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I cana��t believe youa��re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
A giant high-five to Jodie,
I really think youa��re a�?swella��,
And what a perfect mum youa��ll be,
I dona��t care who i tell!
A huge well done to Jodie,
Big pats on the back and that,
Your brand new daughter Chloe,
Upon your bump shea��s sat.
A big thumbs up to Jodie,
For really coping well,
For going through some awful times,
We all know it was hell.
Although Ia��m really happy,
And chuffed to bits for you,
I must confess my slight dismay,
No more bum to watch, its true.
But me aside for few last verse,
I cana��t say it enough,
Your daughter such an amazing thing,
Whoa��s mother stayed so tough.
Such a lucky girl she is to have,
A mum whoa��s just like you,
I know that shea��ll love you forever,
A little like me too...
I know youa��ll love her dearly,
And be with her through all,
But hear me now when i offer this,
If you need any help at all.......
I know all mums get these words,
But with you I know its true,
Chloe will have the best life ever,
With your familly, mates and you.
Congratulations Jodie!
I truly mean well done.
I cana��t believe youa��re now a mummy,
Oh god, how sweet, how fun!
It's bedtime at the okay corral & I wrote this in a hurry. It is a rough, rough draft, so...
The drummer boy kept the beat
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
Along with the soldiers' marching feet
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
The sound was thunderous on the street
LEFT, right, LEFT, right
History again was about to repeat
LEFT, right, LEFT!
The army was marching down the street
To go to a war that no one could beat
And some of them going would not come back
And ones that did would be broken and cracked
And kiss the girls and make them cry
You're off to war and about to die
Salute the flag and hold it high
Kiss your mother and wave goodbye
LEFT, right, LEFT
They'll put you in a new body bag
Drape your coffin with a nice, new flag
Then send your medals to your Mom and Dad
To replace the son or daughter they had
LEFT, right, LEFT!
I am very patriotic and support the troops, but...
1. What, according to Beowulf, is better than mourning a death?
A. Celebrating a birth
B. Avenging a death
C. Drinking onea��s sorrows away
D. Making peace with onea��s enemies
2. Beowulf fights Grendel's mother
A. in Herot
B. in an underwater battle hall
C. at the dragon's tower
D. at the bottom of the ocean
3. Beowulf reflects the following values of his society except
A. compassion for monsters
B. courageous acts
C. loyalty to kings and men
D. bragging
4. Beowulf defeats Grendela��s mother by using a giant, magical
A. sword
B. dagger
C. catapult
D. bow and arrow
5. At the first banquet, who taunts Beowulf about a swimming match with Breca?
A. Unferth
B. Wiglaf
C. Hygelac
D. Heardred
6. After Grendel is defeated, what follows that brings further sorrow to King Hrothgar?
A. Grendela��s mother kills Hrothgara��s son.
B. Beowulf is killed fighting a dragon
C. Grendela��s mother kills Hrothgara��s best friend.
D. Grendela��s mother attacks the Geats.
7. What is a scop?
A. a poet
B. a warrior
C. a Danish king
D. a lake
8. How does Hrothgar know of Beowulf?
A. Beowulf once proposed to his daughter.
B. Beowulf had gained a widespread reputation after slaying a dragon.
C. He had heard tales of his bravery.
D. Hrothgar was friends with Beowulfa��s father.
9. Who is Beowulf's father?
A. Ecgtheow
B. Hrothgar
C. Wulfgar
D. Wealhtheow
10. How does Grendel respond when he realizes Beowulf is able to fight back?
A. joyously
B. excitedly
C. indifferently
D. fearfully
11. King Hrothgar's hall has been deserted for twelve years because
A. It became infested with evil spirits.
B. He never finished it.
C. Beowulfa��s warriors took it over.
D. Grendel was attacking it at night.
12. The outcome of Beowulf's battle with Grendel is that
A. Beowulfa��s arm is torn off and he dies later.
B. Grendela��s arm is torn off and he dies later.
C. Grendel is killed immediately.
D. Beowulf is killed immediately.
13. What is the name of Hrothgara��s great mead-hall?
A. Herot
B. Wergild
C. Hrurting
D. Naegling
14. Beowulf's deeds require tremendous
A. courage
B. humility
C. wisdom
D. trust
15. Which character is descended from Shield Sheafson?
A. Beowulf
B. Wiglaf
C. Ecgtheow
D. Hrothgar
16. Grendela��s mother lives
A. in the woods
B. on an island
C. in a lake
D. in the dungeon
17. Beowulf believes that the outcome of his battles with Grendel and Grendela��s mother will be determined by
A. God and fate
B. the needs of his people
C. the strength of his body
D. the strength of his will
18. Beowulf (the poem, not the character) reflects the idea that the battle between good and evil
A. has bee won by evil
B. eded with Beowulf's death
C. is never-ending
D. has been won by good
19. Who guides Beowulf to the dragona��s barrow?
A. Wulfgar
B. the thief
C. the slave-girl
D. Hygd
20. Who is queen of the Geats?
A. Wealhtheow
B. Modthryth
C. Unferth
D. Hygd
21. After Beowulf defeats Grendela��s mother, how long does he rule over the Geats?
A. 3 years
B. 10 years
C. 20 years
D. 50 years
22. How many men does it take to carry Grendela��s head back to the mead-hall?
A. 2
B. 4
C. 20
D. 100
23. The fiery dragon is angry because a fugitive slave stole what from him?
A. flagon/cup
B. sword
C. ring
D. shield
24. From whom is Grendel descended?
A. Satan
B. Cain
C. Judas
D. Ecgtheow
25. Who comes to Beowulfa��s aid in the dragon fight and then becomes the future Geat king?
A. Wiglaf
B. Hygelac
C. Heardred
D. Aeschere
26. The mythological character that founded Hrothgara��s kingdom was named
A. Guthlaf
B. Healfdene
C. Scyld Scefing
D. Queen Modthrytho
27. The main struggle in Beowulf is between
A. courgae and cowardice
B. love and hate
C. good and evil
D. peace and war
28. Who is the father of Shield Sheafson?
A. Beowulf
B. Hrothgar
C. Grendel
D. Sheafson is an orphan
29. Beowulf defeats Grendel by ripping off its
A. head
B. claw
C. tongue
30. Where do the Geats place Beowulfa��s Barrow?
A. In Grendela��s swamp
B. in the dragon's lair
C. on the palace temple
D. on a cliff overlooking the sea
At least every two years, we'd
trek across country, always from
coast to coast....why the Navy did that,
I don't know, never did we move
to a state nearby.
In the backseat of the car with
two other siblings, we saw every
gas station, every Dairy Queen
and every field of corn in the country,
nice straight rows of corn,
look how straight those rows are,
my dad would say.
From point A to point B, we
never strayed, unless he took extra leave,
then we would make a beeline to
Traverse City, Michigan, to Long Lake
and a week in a rented cabin.
Hearts Delight was our favorite,
we always tried to get that one.
And, it was the one we got that summer
when my mom decided to return to us
after her affair with my best friend's father.
She didn't come back because she
no longer loved him, nor because
she realized she still loved my dad,
no, her lover of nine months had dumped her,
decided to return to his family, and she,
she had no where else to go, so,
she came back "for the children."
I'll never forget that day. I was only
eleven, it's been almost fifty years, but
I still see her walking up the path to us.
She had on black Capri's and a sleeveless
black knit shirt with six huge white buttons,
the size of silver dollars, down the front.
Being the youngest, I ran out to hug her.
Mom didn't like being touched, she never
was a hugger, something I always respected, but,
today, today I felt I'd be forgiven. I was so damn
glad to see my mom. For many reasons.
So, I ran right out there and threw my arms
around her frame. It was the coldest hug I'd ever
had, and since that day, I've only had one other
that cold, oddly enough, it was from
my own daughter.
But, that's another story.
All I felt were the bones in her back. Her arms were
so thin, they felt foreign to me. Where had my
mother gone? Was this all that was left of her?
That night, in "Hearts Delight," we put on
the record of "The King and I." My brother
was Yul Brynner and I, Debra Kerr, together we
waltzed to "Shall We Dance?" to entertain
the family. We hammed it up and mimicked
our characters, our performance worthy of
awards. Well, everyone thought so, but Mom.
She just sat, and stared, and occasionally cried.
We stayed a family to the very end, but never
returned to Long Lake. Our hearts lost any
delight.
moving on in th past!
got to go forward just wanna go back
teen years are supose to be the best but are the worst
a single father no longer alone
a daughter wishing to go back but to late in time
a mother thats gone and a girl who mises her life
memories hat canot be brought back
a girl that needs to move on but stays in th past
I wrote this some time ago, don't think I ever posted it, though:
IMPRESSIONS
You should have been a little less firm when you yelled and watched him turn away as you cried and fell asleep, only to wake to the telephone ringing. "This is the sheriff, your son has died, crashed into a tree while out for a ride." You remember the moments before his passing and now you realize what they mean by impressions are lasting. It's been 10 years since he's been gone, you finally realize, he's never coming home.
You never should have done what you did, but when she cried you were full of rage, you saw the blood and the ripped up blouse as she cried to you for help, you didn't know until the very last second it was his fault, and she was unprotected. You told her just before she left, don't gone too long, that you will not regret, but the fear in her eyes is what hurt you most as you stood there and told her to go, run away and it's your fault then the day came when she never came home.
We never realize how much we hurt those we love until it's too late, so take this time to love. Love your children with all your might never let them leave your sight, be overprotective don't be ashamed, you are a mother or a father just the same. Sometimes it's hard to make a good impression but remember all those who never get the impression, that they are loved and they are protected.
Don't let it be your son or daughter, don't let them feel neglected.
He was just a shy young man, didn't want to go to the party, but you forced him and as he left you didn't realize that it wasn't that kind of party.
You didn't know the hurt you caused as you drank and told her to go; she was too young; she did not understand what it meant to be in love with a man.
These are the things that hurt children most, parents who don't see the hurt that is caused most, not by a bully or an overbearing teacher, but by a mother or father with a cross to bear.
A�Copyright June 3, 2007 by Danielle N. Calhoun
Thank you sara f and Christy. I have a keen mind for observing things, and although I am happy to say I have not experienced life such as what I wrote about, hearing about things like this just brings to mind things in me that I like to let out when I can.
We are having a poem contest at school. I think its the same as the speaking contest, whoever is best at speeching is chosen and those people challenge off to see who wins. Anyway i have a short one, or a very long one. I already know the Short one off by heart and its Wednesday that we go back to school, but i got my mums opinion and she likes the long one better. I geuss i do to, because it keeps people thinking. Here is the short one:
Ladies and Jellyspoons, hobos and tramps
crosseyed mosquitos and bow legged ants
I come before you
to stand behind you
and tell you something i no nothing about
Next thursday which is good friday
their will be a mothers meeting
for fathers only
wear your best clothes
if you havent any
come if you cant
if you can, stay at home
admission is free so
pay at the door
pull up a seat
and sit on the floor
it makes no difference where you sit,
the man in the gallery's sure to spit.
And heres the long one:
Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was a pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.
This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.
My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.
For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother
Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.
If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.
For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!
Bonus points (thumbs up) if you tell my who the author of the long one was?
And if you are wondering, we don't malke up the poems, they have to be written by real poets.
THANKYOU!!
Who do you think you are? Trying to make me jelous like im the
one who was hurt? You claim you needed me but not as just a friend
bitch do you not understand this is the begining and not the end? When i say
its not the end check it out baby girl i am a real man i don't have time for what
you have to say trust me i heard it all before and this is what im going to say.
You say baby i need you and i say for what?
You say because i can't let you go and i say why?
You say because i was the one who changed your life and i say ok?
You say dont ignore me is that all you got to say? and i say yeah!
You then say look at you. Do you not even care? And i say i care but i heard it all before!
And you say what you mean you heard it all before? and i say?
You told me i hurted you but you got with my brother
You told me i was a liar but you was the one keeping secrets.
You told me i was a jerk when you was the bitch.
You told me you loved me and our love will never end but yet you slept with your friend..
and now im saying.
Screw you bitch im much better than that.
I went threw it not Only once but twice and i learned never again.
I'm writing this because you keep thinking what you say is eating at me
but i know deep down the real deal is your just mad that you cant have me.
So listen good and listen very carefully.
You need to get yourself together before you end up lonely permantly
I tried with you several times but all you did was screw me.
Not no more you no longer exsist! I'm sorry i had to right this and no this is not a diss.
Not only is this the truth its what you are made of and as they say like mother like daughter and the apple dont fall far from the tree so good day and by the way what did you have to say?
Can anyone help me. i need to find a poem that best relates to this poem.
dusting by julia alvarez
Each morning I wrote my name
On the dusty cabinet, then crossed
the dining table in script, scrawled
in capitals on the backs of chairs,
practicing signatures like scales
while Mother followed, squirting
linseed from a burping can
into a crumpled flannel.
She erase my fingerprints
from the bookshelf and rocker,
polished mirrors on the desk
scribbled with my alphabets.
My name was swallowed in the towel
with which she jeweled the table tops.
The grain surfaced in the oak
and the pine grew luminous.
But I refused with every mark
to be like her, anonymous.
ill also write a summary about it if u dont understand the poem:
This poem is about a disagreement between a mother and a daughter. The daughters mother is a a�?neat freaka�?. Her mother believes that she knows better and knows the right way to live for her and her daughter. the daughter is trying to portray that she is her own person and wants to live her life, the way she wants.
i just need the website u got it from.
the title, author
She made a promise to her mother
To learn to dance just like no other
But she could feel it in her vision
To never make one bad decision
You see her mom had done a move so daring
And found the floor was not so sparing
Now shea��s slightly paralyzed
Her dream is done unrealized
Well as time went by a new contest
Her daughter vowed to be the best
She felt her mother watching her
Praying old events will not occur
But she glided to that very move
And did the leap and found her groove
Then like Fred Astaire did with a broom
She danced the floor and swept that room
Then in her ears there came a roar
The votes were in a perfect score
And to all the others who had tried
With that leap of love they were denied
But a vision seen then was not kept
Her mom forgave her as they wept
They felt their tears, they shared their cries
Her mom had won now through her eyes
Shooting Kinesha
a�?I hate what I come from,a�? says my cousin Shoshana,
22, jawing per always, feather earrings tangling
in her light brown hair. Shoshana hangs on to Kinesha,
her kid, to stop her running off. Our cousin Deba��s
wedding just got out; wea��re standing at the bottom
of the wedding hall steps. a�?White people
dona��t have culture, except what they stole
from our African brothers.a�? Shoshanaa��s
wearing black, per always, me too, her in leather,
me in acetate-velour. a�?Weddings, U-G-H.a�?
Shoshana spells out ugh like ita��s spelled
in books. a�?I hope yours was cooler than this.a�?
I nod. I always nod at Shoshana, whatever she says.
Shoshana checks, rechecks her watch, watching
for her boyfriend. Ia��m waiting for my husband too.
Ia��ve been a pain in the ass to him all morning.
Shoshana sips cheap California champagne
to hide her upset feelings. Kinesha breaks loose,
veers close to the street and parked cars and traffic,
thrashes her lace anklets and buckle shoes
into a crowd of part-white pigeons.
a�?In London I only hung out with Jamaicans,a�?
Shoshana says. a�?People gave me looks on the bus.
Ouch.a�? She detangles an earring. a�?Once I ripped
an earlobe on these. Anyway, I want you to meet
my boyfriend. Hea��s cool, hea��s sticking by me.
He says he knew he could when I wouldna��t
dime him out after they caught me with his pot
in the Kingston airport. Kineshaa��s his. Hea��s
the only guy Ia��ve loved since, you know, Ken?a�?
Kena��s the one who died beside her
of an overdose in the Motel 6 in Ohio
the time she was 16 and stole her dada��s Beamer
to run away. a�?You heard?a�? Of course I did,
in this family. a�?Kineshaa��s Kinesha
to remember him,a�? she says. a�?I still miss him.a�?
I nod. I poke Kineshaa��s belly, her nose.
a�?U-G-H,a�? says Kinesha, annoyed. Ia��m bad with kids.
a�?Ia��m teaching her to assert herself,a�? Shoshana says.
Her wrist-chains jangle. I twist my wedding ring.
An organ somewhere plays a�?Ode to Joy.a�?
Here comes the third bad cousin, Christina,
scruff-haired in the pale-pink prom dress
the bride her sister made her wear. $90,000
per year doing something with websites and she
cana��t even keep her hair in order. a�?Isna��t it awful?a�?
Christina says, a�?What do I look like, Gwyneth Paltrow?
You guys look swell.a�? Shea��s good with kids:
Kinesha slams herself for a hug into Christinaa��s
legs. Christina and Kinesha kiss. She says
a�?Did you like my PowerPoint presentation
on the bridea��s life? Did you think it was funny?
Go play with the pigeons.a�? She puts Kinesha down.
a�?Deb wanted a poem, but dona��t you hate poems?
Was it wrong of me to start with an Eminem quote?a�?
Kinesha shouts, staggers, stamps at the pigeons;
jaded, they hardly move, only jump-start
halfhearted when Kinesha brandishes
her one-armed naked Barbie above her head,
then turns Barbie into a gun, shoots
at the pigeons. a�?I feel like we should be
sneaking around back with cigarettes
like we used to, remember?a�? says Christina.
a�?Too bad we dona��t smoke anymore.a�?
Shoshana takes out her Newports, lights up.
Ia��m remembering we never much liked each other,
only hung together at family gatherings
because we were supposed to be the bad ones.
I hate what I come from. I say a�?My father
just told me again my poems are a�?too full
of disgusting sex.a�� He said a�?Why dona��t you
write more like Derek Walcott?a�� Ia��m sick
of him throwing deep-thinking
genius men up at me.a�? Christina rolls
her eyes, shakes her head, fudges hair tendrils
back into her frizzy twisted updo, vibrates
her lips, blows air out. a�?Can you tell Ia��m
drunk already?a�? she asks. I nod. She shrugs.
a�?Well, why not, Deb didna��t invite single guysa�?
for me like I asked her. Selfish as always.a�?
Shoshana checks her watch. a�?Ia��m gonna kill him.a�?
I wish I wanted to kill my husband.
Right now, I hate everything, everybody,
and dona��t have a friend in the world
except my husband. Ita��s true he dislikes me
more and more these days but at least
he likes my poems and hates Derek Walcott.
Kinesha sprays Barbie bullets at everything,
Barbiea��s head as bald as her elided crotch.
a�?I didna��t buy her that racist, sexist doll,a�?
says Shoshana. Christina and I nod.
a�?She found my old one. I pulled
all her hair out when I was 14
and shaved my head the first time.a�?
Kinesha moves away from the settling pigeons,
turns her Barbie gun on us, shoots.
Rat-a-tat-tat. a�?Ugh, you got me,a�?
we say, and a�?BANG!a�? I say. We turn
our hands into guns, three bad cousins,
Mother, Bridesmaid, Wife-and-Daughter,
for all our different reasons, shooting the child.
Asalam walaikum ,
t was early in the morning at four,
When death knocked upon a bedroom door,
Who is there? The sleeping one cried.
I'm Malkul Mawt, let me inside.
At once, the man began to shiver,
As one sweating in deadly fever,
He shouted to his sleeping wife,
Don't let him take away my life.
Please go away, O Angel of Death!
Leave me alone; I'm not ready yet.
My family on me depends,
Give me a chance, O please prepense!
The angel knocked again and again,
Friend! I 'll=2 0take your life without a pain,
Tis your soul Allah requires,
I come not with my own desire.
Bewildered, the man began to cry,
O Angel I'm so afraid to die,
I'll give you gold and be your
slave,
Don't send me to the unlit grave.
Let me in, O Friend! The Angel said,
Open the door; get up from your bed,
If you do not allow me in,
I20will walk through it, like a Jinn.
The man held a gun in his right hand,
Ready to defy the Angel's stand.
I'll point my gun, towards your head,
You dare come in; I'll shoot you dead.
By now the Angel was in the room,
Saying, O Friend! Prepare for you doom.
Foolish man, Angels never die,
Put down your gun and do not sigh.
Why are you afraid! Tell me O man,
To die a ccording to Allah's plan?
Come smile at me, do not be grim,
Be Happy to return to Him.
O Angel! I bow my head in shame,
I had no time to take Allah's Name.
From morning till dusk, I made my wealth,
Not even caring for my health.
Allah's command I never obeyed,
Nor five times a day I ever
prayed.
A Ramadan came and a Ramadan went,
But no time had I to repent.
The Hajj was already FARD on me,
But I would not part with my money.
All charities I did ignore,
Taking usury more and more.
Sometimes I sipped my favorite wine,
With flirting women I sat to dine.
O Angel! I appeal to you,
Spare my life for a year or two.
The Laws of Quran I will obey,
I'll begin SALAT this very day.
My Fast and Hajj, I will complete,
And keep away from self-conceit.
I will refrain from usury,
And give all my wealth to charity,
Wi ne and wenches I will detest
,
Allah's oneness I will attest.
We Angels do what Allah demands,
We cannot go against His commands.
Death is ordained for everyone,
Father, mother, daughter or son.
I'm afraid this moment is your last,
Now be reminded, of your past,
I
do understand your fears,
But it is now too late for tears.
You lived in this world, two score and more,
Never did you, your people adore.
Your parents, you did not obey,
Hungry beggars, you turned away.
Your two ill-gotten, female offspring,
In nightclubs, for livelihood they sing.
Instead of making more Muslims,
You made your children non-Muslims.
You ignored the Mua'dhin Adhaan,
Nor did you read the Holy Quran.
Breaking promises all your life,
Backbiting friends, and causing strife.
From hoarded goods, great profits you made,
And your poor workers, you underpaid.
Horses and cards were your leisure,
Moneymak ing was your pleasure.
You ate vitamins and grew more fat,
With the very sick, you never sat.
A pint of blood you never gave,
Which could a little baby save?
O Human, you have done enough
wrong,
You bought good properties for a song.
When the farmers appealed to you,
You did not have mercy, tis true.
Paradise for you? I cannot tell,
Undoubted ly you will dwell in hell.
There is no time for you to repent,
I'
ll take your soul for which I am sent.
The ending however, is very sad,
Eventually the man became mad
With a cry, he jumped out of bed,
And suddenly, he fell down dead.
O Reader! Take moral from here,
You never know, your end may be near
Change your living and make amends
For heaven, on your deeds depends.
If this poem inspires you,
It can help someone too.
STAR THIS Q
Its and ABC poem I did in 7th grade.
Watch The World:
AIDS spread through Africa.
Boundaries are ignored by
Crowds of ignorant rebels, while the
Death count rises.
Everything has
Fallen to pieces.
Ghandia��s dreams of tranquility are forgotten.
Houses are torn in half by divorce.
Immigrants are rejected a better life.
Jobs dona��t supply enough money for some families, while the
KKK claims a victim.
Lets forget this all,
Move on, but
Nine-eleven witnesses are still haunted.
Offensive statements cause a riot, when
Poverty strikes another household, and the children
Quiver with fright.
Redemption isna��t a choice, but a necessity, while
Signs caution
That sixteen is
Unsafe.
Violence occurs daily throughout America.
Watch the world and ita��s flaws.
Xenophobia condemns the unlucky ones.
Youth is stolen with
Zero chance of return.
A thousand faces wea��ll choose to ignore.
Babies born without mother or fathers, become
Crippled from exhaustion. or cold with
Disappointment.
Elections might
Finally work out this time, but we still need
Guidance, wea��ve been mislead, young and
Hostile, but not stupid.
Icy glaciers melt before our eyes.
Jack abused his daughter today, nothing new.
Kids are victims in this story.
Let this train wreck burn
More slowly.
Nationality is mocked or scolded by
Others.
Parents uncontrollably
Quarrel
Right in front of their children, and the
Shades have been pulled shut.
The Iraq soldier came back different,
Unusual, perhaps.
Voyagers never return the same anyway.
Was it the way they watched civilians die around them, or the
X-ray of their broken hearts?
Youngsters feel the need to wreak havoc, while
Zoos conquer
An animala��s life, spirit and mind.
Any form of feedback is welcomed.
A life
She was just a daughter
Just a baby
Just a toddler
Just a girl
Just a girl who jumped in the autumn leaves
A girl who played in the snow till her toes grew numb
A girl who watched the cherry blossom buds burst into life when spring came along
A girl who drank cool lemonade on hot summer days
She was just a student
Just a wife
Just a mother
A mother who wiped her first daughetera��s tears when she fell down trying to take her first steps
A mother who scolded her first son for bringing mud into the house
A mother who listened to her daughtera��s worries about a boy in her class
A mother who helped her boy get through Algebra
A mother who watched her children grow and who loved her children above anything in this world
She was just a grandmother
A grandmother who was loved and cherished by everyone around her
But thena��
She was just a patient
In a cold, dark hospital
Those who loved her dearly crowding around her
Praying to the dear Lord for him to save her
For him to return her to them safely and without harm
She was just another humanbeing
Fighting for her life
Fighting with those whom she loved and was loved by
Fighting as slowly the life was sucked out of her
They said there was nothing more for them to do
She couldna��t make it through this
She was just another human
Whose life was lost to a preventable disease
She was just a dead body
Just a coffin
Just another human body
Six feet under the ground~
--thank you
The poem "His Story" by Sandra Cisneros is a poem with great detail. To me, it's about Sandra's own life. Growing up with six other brothers, her being the only daughter. In her fathers and families eyes it was a " An ancient fate. A family trait we trace back to a great aunt no one mentions" to be a girl her father even goes as far as putting it as being born under a crooked star. Her aunt's sin was her beauty she lived being a "whore" and died a single lady. Her cousin a gold digger, only in it for her colonel husbands "payroll" she made quite a profession of that. Or her grandmothers mother for instance, a lady brought to death by her own voodoo doing. The trend so far with this family is that the women in it are all sinners and witchdoctors, living life for all the wrong reasons. So in her father's eyes, his only daughter shall most likely follow the other women in his families footsteps and be bad mischievous women. Sandra's dad even compares his daughter to this lady in the newspaper who has her same name , Sandra Cisneros. A lady arrested for audacious crimes that began by disobeying her father. He also says the Cubano who sells him his shoes , says he too knew a Sandra Cisneros who was three times cursed a widow. To me this all seems like it makes Sandra looks like she too, will be as bad as all these other women but as I thought about it more, Sandra is her own women who can make her own decisions and just because these women have her name or the women in her family are women like her doesn't mean she too will be like these women. At the end the author, Sandra Cisneros, says this " An unlucky fate is mine to be born woman in a family of men. Six sons, my father groans, all home.
And one female, gone." To me this says that she is not liked as much as her other brothers are and to her she feels the got the short end of the stick and was born unlucky because she is..... a women.
When the clouds tear apart, when dusk eats the day,
When I float through the shrinking and vastly wasting frays
Of dust giving birth, living for time and painting clay,
Solidifying the adapting, will I long to stay?
Crashing down or gliding up, to the fire or the water,
Will you, sweet mother burn or drown your sour daughter?
You will watch.
There are oak chips in space; the branches hold the stars,
Crumbling in epileptic ants, bark tainted in her scars,
But there was a time, one close but sprinting to land afar,
When we slept within its roots, a preserved, unlit cigar.
Then as we slept we dreamed,
A walking, speaking castle we seemed,
And when you swept me in your arms and beamed,
a�?My child!a�? my love and child-heart streamed
Throughout the plains who were a yard,
You stood tall, bravely standing my guard,
And although the stream clenched to rock hard,
I never believed in or looked at the stars.
I treaded the river, which burned and scraped my feet,
For ten years, ten more, I thought it to be deep.
Now I dangle from the walls, crispy bread sweating in sleep,
And as I tumble to the stones, the river hovers in my weeps.
But beside the moon lives a fly breathing smoke,
A dragon on a twig, alert and awoke,
And when he breathes as all are honoured to, he chokes,
For hea��s airborne Sisyphus, with nowhere to float.
Bitterly leaving space, then bitterly arriving with a sigh,
a�?A bitter and endless cyclea�?, hisses the bitter-fly.
In a microscopic circle, infinitesimal but the world,
He suffocates, mocked by my river of white swirls.
This fly knowing hea��s a dragon curses a selfish girl;
She created the pathway creek, resting tangled and furled.
This love thata��s my love is in no way mine,
And I give and I feed, a fine, rooted spine,
Emerging from my back, starved and climbed
By a tiny creature, a sleep-walking fly.
I hear him with my nerves, see with my skin,
And in that moment of end, where again it begins,
I have everything any can have, everything there is,
Nailed into a dollhouse, sanctuary of chagrin.
When the clouds tear apart, when dusk eats the day,
When I float through the shrinking and vastly wasting frays
Of dust giving birth, living for time and painting clay,
Solidifying adapting, Ia��ll be honoured to stay.
(Honour is blind, Ingratitudea��s confined.)
I usually don't rhyme, like...ever. But I decided to try it haha. Probobly because I'm listening to so much Joanna Newsom music and it's like this.
SISYPHUS!
Not an STD. He's a greek myth. He was forced to push a boulder up a hill and then roll it down, push it up again etc. for all eternity.
my father is getting married next year and i already have a poem together for my mother but i dont have one for my own dad....does anyone know any poem that i can read to my dad on his wedding day....im LOST?????
Glasgow you could not afford me the spare change
For the ferryman's boat.
Glasgow a packet of lights and some Earl Grey April 26th, 2008.
Glasgow the green leaf of the Botanics
And the silver dollar of the whore's ghetto.
I have breached the walls of insanity and let out the chaos.
Glasgow when will you rebuild the fire?
Fuck the City Chambers and the dead statues of George Square.
Fuck the traffic cops and the paranoid delinquents.
I write to feel alive for Blair's Britain has killed me.
Glasgow when will you show me your nakedness?
When will you flower in the light?
When will you adopt your prodigal sons?
Glasgow why do you shit in your own streets?
Glasgow when will you be true to your word?
I'm admonished of your intolerable sin.
When can I reach for the sky above the designer labels
And executive coffee houses with my honurable intentions?
Glasgow you swim in the twilight of heroin
And the sawdust of greatness and I am but the poet of your vanity.
Your heart is what is left of me.
You speak like the widow at her husband's funeral.
There must be thoughts in the anger you possess.
Quinn is in Amsterdam with his summer delight
And the prostitute's cream.
Are you watching the barge on Maryhill canal
Or is this just some of your banter?
I'm willing to forgive you.
I want to rejoice in your happiness.
Glasgow shout no more for I am but a stranger
In your docklands.
Glasgow the thistle has struck you down.
I didn't seek your truth for your bosom is swelling
With stabbings and murders.
Glasgow some of the most beautiful woman walk by your side.
Glasgow I was a revolutionary
But then I never had your stubborn pride.
I watch him talk with the dragon at every chance I get.
I stand by your estuary for hours and hours
And gaze at the gathering of grey herons on the shore.
When I go to the Barras my mother waits and I feel at home.
My head is the lost city of Sodom.
You are the witness as I read Rimbaud in your parks.
My psychologist got divorced and is now in therapy.
I say the Lord's Pray every day.
I have gifts of bread and wine and lateral visitations of an alien kind.
Glasgow I listen to you and you confess what happened
To Marlene, 7th October 1997, as she jumped
From the Towers of Barlanark.
I'm speaking to you
Are you going to survive
And let your heart be ruled
By the malignant suit in the black wagon.
I'm obsessed with sanity.
I search for her all the time
And when I find her she looks at me form behind a glass door,
Desperate to be return to her family.
I see her in the face of my sister and my brother
But she is always unchained. I am unchained. God is unchained.
I think I belong to Glasgow.
Bush is fighting with me
In the land of the free
Perpetuating the material disease
As Sheriden the hope of the radical few
Fucks swingers, as the sweat breaks the fake
Suntan of his blemished skin.
What do I have but a box of valium, thousands
Of poems awaiting my death and publication,
The sight of an Osprey on Loch Chon
And twelve days and counting in an asylum.
I whisper nothing of my illusions nor my beliefs
Nor the multitude who chase poverty down the street
And who are housed in the bins of the rich
And whose only recourse to justice is prison or rehab.
I have banned the brothels of Charing Cross, St Enoch
And Venus will be the last.
My ambition is to die having been loved.
Glasgow what do I write in your elegy to celebrate your heroism?
I will go on like Napoleon, my struggle as significant
As his defeat.
Glasgow solace and honesty does not come cheap.
I'll give you both for a grand.
Glasgow release Rose Gentle.
Glasgow save St. Mungo.
Glasgow your addicted sons and buckfast daughter must not die.
Glasgow I am the Anderston girls.
Glasgow when I was eight my father took me to church
Where they told stories of Jesus sang on the rickety piano
Drew his picture on fine paper knelt in sermon and prayer
Conversed with the old and dying babtised the unfaithful
And I would look up to the roof above me and watch as it opened
And proclaimed me the second Christ.
Everybody must have been an unbeliever.
Glasgow don't drown with your salmon.
Glasgow it's them Corporate Capitalists.
Them Corporate Capitalists them Corporate Capitalists
And them Muslims and them Corporate Capitalists.
The Corporate Capitalist wants to carve your spirit out
Of your bricks and mortar. Their ruthless. They want everything
Even the Orchids in your Glasshouses.
He wants the land on which you were born, the people who love you
To march on his wheel to keep it turning. He wants "Big Brother"
To move in and live with us. He wants to eat the bones
Of this city in his gluttony.
If not then what, packing shelves in Iceland or perhaps Farmfoods
To pay for his robes of gold?
Glasgow stand for your people.
Glasgow you are what you have made me.
Glasgow am I right?
I must leave you now.
It's true I don't want to touch the Devil's cloth
Or
(Ending)
Or serve customers in a sandwich bar, I'm hopeless
And too psychotic by far.
Glasgow I'm finally turning my blind eye the other way.
at a campgroud where my husband son daughter and i met them. in my past i MIGHT have THOUGHT of doing this but wouldnt think of it now. in my younger years i had a very minliputiave past but have changed. They met some new friends while at the campgroud who seemed so nice even to me ...now a week or so later after they were very hurtful and told the whole family and loads of friends... and hurt my feelings so bad with the nasty words by her and my step dad ... checks have been cahsed and i was here in town and the check cashed near camp over 2 hours from home where we all live ..now they are ( they have to be sure ) it WASNT me because i have been home and in this area ... they wont say sorry or even reassure me it was a mistake . I know i didnt do it and i am pretty sure they do to . Then tonight my daughter who adores my mom wanted to go home with her after we all crossed paths at my grandmothers (where i live in the same duplex) just next door ... i said no my daughter could not go until i was aplogized to , i am really hurt . they have the right to have felt the way at first that they did ...but now they should admiit the worng and atleast say something like i am sorry . iw ould like a pem to my mom telling her i understand their point in the begining. but i wouldnt do something to hurt them or steal from them and now they knwo it couldnt have been me ( she wants to aplogize AFTER it is PROVEN by the police who it is and they are tried in court and covicted ) i am HURT upset and angry ... i love her and wouldnt want my hard feelings but .... beings they cant admit they jumped the gun ... anyway i want a poem to say i love her wouldnt hurt her and her not saying sorry hurts and i understand y she accused me at frist , and i am hurt hurt hurt ...please help jsut something short and sweet ...i broken down and agreed to allow my baby girl (3years old) to go stay with her tomorrow night should my mother want her to , everyone was crying when she left my daughter my mom and me cause i wouldnt allow her to go until this was resolved and i was told sorry . my gram says my momcant say sorry cause she feels like to big of an ass ...HELP
here is what it should be about-------the attributes of God and humanity that are developed in the first five books of the Biblea��the Pentateuch....
please add or delete anything you think needs to be done. my email is will09lane@yahoo.com if its easier for you to save it to your comp. then fix things and send it back to my email attatched. here's the essay...
Many things happen in the first five books of the bible or what they call the Pentateuch. These are the really some of the main books in the bible. They tell about the creations and how many things were made.
The first book of the entire bible is called Genesis, which means creation. In Genesis we learn how everything was created, about humans, and how sin came into the world. It begins with the creation of man and the world. It tells us about the creation, the fall, the flood, and the Tower of Babel. There are six different theories of how everything was created. Therea��s the Literal Seven Day Theory, Gap Theory, Day- Age Theory, Intermittent Day Theory, Mythopoeic Theory, and the Framework Theory. The Seven Day Theory is pretty much saying that there are thousands of years between each day that they talk about. The Gap Theory is saying that there are millions of years between the first and second verse of the first chapter of Genesis. The Day- Age Theory is pretty much the same as the Gap Theory. They think there were millions of years in chapter 1. The Intermittent Day Theory is almost the same as the Day- Age Theory. It says that they are 24- hour says, but there was a lengthy amount of time between each day. The Mythopoeic Theory is a poem of Goda��s power to create. The last one is called the Framework Theory. It is showing the purpose of how and when everything was created. It goes light, water, earth, sun and moon, fish, man in that order. Light goes with the sun and moon, water and fish go together, and earth and man go together. The truths about creation are first, God created the entire universe and human beings. Then God gave human beings a special status. Genesis also has four different structures, the rise, the fall, the flood, and the Tower of Babel. The second half of the bible is about the Patriarchs from Goda��s people. It starts with Abraham and God tells him to leave his country and family and to go to the land that he shows him. God promised him if he did this he would get land, blessings, and generations of people. Next is Isaac who goes to Egypt with Rebecca then later has twins named Jacob and Esau. The next chosen one is Jacob, who was not favored at all by Isaac. Jacob decides he wants to steal the birthright so he puts on a sheep coat to make him smell and feel like Esau so he can serve his father since he liked Esau the most. Jacob then moves to Haran to live with Laban whose daughters are Leah and Rachael. Jacob decides he wants to marry Rachael to Laban tells him to work for him for seven years and he can have her. When the seven years is up, Laban sends Leah instead of Rachael to sleep with him. So in the end he had to work seven more years to get Rachael. Then he has a daughter named Dinah from Leah who is later raped by Sheckham. The end of Genesis is about Joseph moving to Egypt and becomes Potiphara��s slave. Then Potiphara��s wife tries to sleep with Joseph and he says no so she cries out that he raped her and gets put in prison. He is later let out of prison because people think that he can tell them what their dreams mean and he becomes the second most powerful person in all of Egypt. Then Josepha��s brothers show up in Egypt to get some food and he starts questioning them, then throws them in jail. Joseph then tells his brothers he wants to see the youngest son so they go back and get Benjamin. When they get back Joseph lets them eat with him and he puts the Kinga��s cup in Benjamina��s bag to set him up. As they are heading home Joseph sends people after them to see if they stole it so he could say hea��s going to kill one of them. Ita��s in Benjamina��s bag so he threatens to kill him but Judah tells him that he can take his life and his kids before he kills Benjamin.
Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy tell the story of the exit of Israela��s people from Egypt and going to the Promised Land, and also the Ten Commandments that were given. The story of the people having to leave Egypt starts off by Jacob and Joseph dying which causes the Israelites to become slaves. This slavery lasted around 430 years. The King of Egypt started making them do a lot more work and ordered the death of all newly born males. One woman gave birth to a male and hid him then sent him down the Nile River and was later picked up by the daughter of Pharaoh. She called him Moses and took care of him like his mother. When Moses became an adult he killed an Egyptian man so he had to flee from Egypt. While he was escaping an Angel came to him and God made the promise of getting rid of slavery and to take him to the Promise Land. Then Mos
A reddened shadow lay upon the water
as evidence of an impending slaughter
In the reflected glow of dusk aesthete's fodder.
The Sun descends below the Golden the Earth
Night rises devoid of mirth
Old Country Buffet has widened my girth
Feel as though I may soon emplode
A reddened shadow lay upon the water
as evidence of an impending slaughter
In the reflected glow of dusk aesthete's fodder.
The Sun descends below the Golden the Earth
----Night rises devoid of mirth
Old Country Buffet has widened my girth
Feel as though I may soon implode
Woe is me, to have to carry such a heavy load
By light of moon what creaturesa�� prowl
Undistinguished by grunt or growl
But then potato rapes my foot.
As sausage slithers past my lips
Back to the lake of imminent slaughter
Crossed over by Lord Ullan's daughter.
Across the chasm in two small jumps
and I am in love with the rolling earth
While upon my Harley, wind in my hair,
----I gave birth to a dream
And I woke up with a ghastly scream
O Please, Mother of us all, never reject my dream
To your hardened skin
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had asked an earlier question for the Yahoo Answers Poets to contribute one line to the first Yahoo Answers epic poem and this is the result. I did not change a thing as far as format and the lines=]
What do you think?
Bloody Music Box
A little girl calls out "Mama,"
Gun shots, the only answer to her cries,
She runs away with dirt covered cheeks,
Trying to find an escape from this hell.
Stumbling through her blackened house,
She comes across her mother's body,
Curled and burnt, she stares blankly at her daughter,
In her hands she holds a little music box.
The girl climbs into her mother's arms,
A twinkling noise interrupts her tears,
She looks down and finds a ballerina,
The tiny pink dancer moves up and down.
Booms are overshadowed by the music,
As she tries to imitate the delicate movements,
Flowing back and forth the girl cries happily,
Dancing for her mother's tender soul.
As the music begins to slow it's pace,
Heavy lead whistles through the air,
Still dancing, the little girl gets hit,
She lands beside her mother with a smile.
And together, their souls dance up to Heaven.
-Kara-
Learning To Be My Fathers Daughter
At 12, my brother would put on a driver's cap
and climb up into the bulky black Chevrolet.
He was a chaffeur,
he'd drive us out of Asbestos, all the way
To San Francisco.
One trip I had him stop the car.
It was hot, midsummer,
the car was a black oven
and we were baking, jammed into the back seat,
me and my three sisters.
I clambered onto the roof
and my brother was suddenly
there behind me, he threw me off
onto the pavement
the way you'd toss a sack of rice
down, just to see the grains, white and
polished pour out of the split burlap.
I saw the blood on my elbows and knees.
I remember screaming and then
there was my father, disturbed while he calculated
the prices of mining stocks,
he picked me up and dangled me, don't cry
shook me like a mop, it doesn't hurt
told me how he'd learned to control
the pain of an abscess when he was only 15
by imagining it elsewhere, outside his body.
When my mother was air-lifted
from the garage filled with carbon monoxide,
registered at the hospital DOA
and my father had her cremated
before her children even arrived, refusing
a funeral, I didn't even whimper,
I took that pain and pushed it
as far outside my body as I could
I watched it dangle in space beside my fathers pain,
I saw that they didn't think they were related,
those two pains, although
they were father and daughter.
anyone? haha
I am 24 and he is 30. We have been together for a year and a half. He has a 6 year old daughter. We have had a kind of rocky relationship but we were very committed to eachother. We have lived together all but 3 months of that. He asked my Dad if he could marry me two months into our relationship. When we met I was still recovering from an eating disorder and he had just lost his house to foreclosure so we both had struggles. We met at our job. He worked crazy hours because he has split custody of his daughter. So we got a rental house and things were rocky but we loved eachother very much. We were fighting more and more but I didn't know why. I blamed myself alot and always ended up apologizing to him. He never liked to address our problems. He met my family and they loved him. I met his and they were way different from mine.. pretty cold and unwelcoming. But it was okay. I always saw the good in him and he had a big heart. He had his troubles but I always saw the good side to him. And I loved how he had helped me in my recovery and showed me how to live my life as enjoyable as possible. I got pregnant and he seemed okay with it. I was happy though I wished we had waited until we were more stable. He went on a trip to Honduras with me and my extended family. He surprised me and asked my dad if he could marry me and proposed to me. I was so happy and surprised. When we got back we started fighting a lot. I now realize that it was how he talked to me. He wasn't very nice to me. We had my ultrasound to see what we were having and it was a girl. He seemed to be kind of unhappy about that and stopped really acknowledging my pregnancy. He never once did anything to help me while I was pregnant. He would get on to me for doing the laundry wrong and for asking him to clean up after himself in the kitchen. I would cry all the time because he would just be mean and tell me I'm crazy (i was hormonal!) and then ignore me and spend time with his daughter so he didn't have to address our problems. I was isolated and miserable just a few months after our engagement. I was getting more and more frustrated and unhappy. I cried all the time and he'd tell me to leave the house if I was going to do that. It seemed like sex was the only thing we still had. I tried to talk to him but he didn't want to anymore. He blamed me for all of the problems and I believed him.. though it didn't feel right. I was just trying to make it work. I was so good to him. Rubbed his back, cooked, brought him food to work, played with his daughter. He didn't do one thing for me except wash my car (which I could care less about). I kept asking him if he still wanted to be with me which drove him crazy but it really didn't feel right. I even paid for counseling for us. He came two times and I was hopeful that we'd figure it out. Then he threw me a baby shower with both our families. That same day, we had an argument and he called and said he wouldn't be coming home. I was crying and felt desparate. Instead of giving him space I kept telling him to come back and we can make it work. I was hysterical. I stayed with my mom and I got him a new bike I'd been wanting to get him. I thought space would be good. But while I was gone he had a 20 year old girl over and slept with her in my bed, leaving my bedsheets in a heap after he washed them. He avoided me for a whole week and then just said he was done and that he had been 'over me' for a month. I found love poems he had wrote with this girl in my house. He stayed with his sister and had this girl who is a 20year old single mother staying there with him because she just split with the father of her baby. They were waiting there because they thought I would move out of my house and let them take over the lease but I wasn't having that. I wanted him to come back. Finally he got his own place with her and left me with a $1100 lease and bills and hasn't talked to me since. Not about the baby not about how I am not about where I'm staying. I'm devastated and confused. Please give me your opinion. Please don't judge.
If it's too long for you then don't read it. You don't have to comment on it. Please be a little more mature. THank you.
My friends and family told me that I was probably the best girl he had ever had the chance to be with. And I was very good to him. I guess I am not strong enough to demand better for myself yet. But in a way he did love me too... but I guess it was a very immature love. I just was asking him to be there and support me and show me he loved me and he didn't know how to do that. He got tired of me asking for that little bit of support and he left. I felt alone all of the pregnance. The hardest part about letting go is that I still see the good in him and his intentions. I think I may have wanted him to be and saw him as something that he wasn't. I feel stupid. This has been the hardest experience of my short life.
In the dark of the night
In the highest of all tides
In the roughness of any wind
In the silence of my pain
Youa��re always there
In the light of the day
In the gayest moment
In the happiest time
In the tears of my joy
Youa��re always there
Through thick and thin
With warmth and love
Youa��re always there
Armed with wisdom and just the right words
To soothe my pains
And wipe my tears
Dear mother I say
God blessed me that day
I was brought to you
This Mothera��s day
I have no just way
I have no lone words
Just right to say
How much you mean to me
How much I love you
How much I wish
To see you smile
Each and everyday
Dear Mother I say
Thank you for you
And thank you for the list
Of endless things
With a rose and this poem
Ita��s my way to say
Happy Mothera��s day
With all my heart
Your daughter,
Malina
Soooo what do you think? I know its abit deeep but ya. Please comment about the poetry k. Thxx
Golden-haired Erato and you, sweet lute,
that comfort people in their anguished mood,
calm my distressed thought just for a moment,
'ere i turn into a stone monument
that's shedding bloody tears through live marble,
a mark of deep grief, a sign of great trouble.
Am i wrong or viewing human mishaps,
we deem more modestly our own collapse?
Poor mother (if we ascribe to ill chance,
what we bear due to reason's ignorance),
Where are your seven sons and seven daughters?
Where is comfort? Where joy and your pleasures?
I see fourteen graves and you, pitiable
and it seems still alive against your will,
embrace cold graces, in which (o, poor woman!)
you laid your dearest children, cruelly slain.
They lie like flowers by a scythe cut down
or beaten by a fierce rain to the ground.
What's your hope? What else are you awaiting?
Why not rush to death to discharge grieving
What do you, Phoebus and vengeful goddess,
do with unerring bow and swift arrows?
either in wrath (for her guilt) or in pity.
End, by God, her feeble longevity.
A new revenge, new trial matched her proud tone:
Weeping for her young, Niobe, turned to stone.
And as timeless marble stands at Mount Sipylus,
yet even 'neath the stone live hidden wounds.
As her heartfelt teardrops seep through the rock
and fall in a clear stream from the hilltop,
whence beast and fowl drink; and in endless bonds
she stands at cliff edge, in path of strong storms.
This tomb has no corpse, this corpse has no tomb,
but it is at one its own corpse and tomb.
I want to go to the doctor to talk about the way I'm feeling but I don't know how to approach them. I'm not sure if I have a family doctor, I'll ask my mom but I'll just go talk to one of the doctors. I've been feeling really horrible for the past few months maybe starting from second semester of the 10th grade. I'm now in the 12th grade and things are really bad. I just drifted from my friends because of all the talk behind my back, it was pretty obvious and its just everything with school. EVERY SINGLE PERSON at my school gives me this look even in public because I'm not a beautiful sight and this I know dont say im not cuz its true. So every time they do look at me I feel like im a freak an alien and god I just want it to stop it hurts so bad and every time I talk about this or even think about it I start to cry and I've thought about suicide but 1) I cannot do that to my mummy and 2) im too much of a chicken. When my mom did notice that i get uncomfortable around people we got into this argument and she cried and said that shell be a mother who finds her daughter hanging in her room. Id never do it....only if my mom wasn' t around on earth. So I really cant talk to her and also my teachers find me pathetic, one of them even sighed when he say me today(I wrote a really disturbing poem last year and so its really awkward) I try to sleep early but I just end up thinking about all this and crying at night, I'm very irritable, my brother and I get into physical fights every other day and he even threatened to tell my mom about my journal that has every thing in fact hes telling her today and he's only 15 a year younger than me. Could this just be hormones, normal for a teenager or something more. There are other things though but its too much....how do I talk to the doctor about this problem?
Please help me translate this poem for my Mom. :) Mucho Gracias!!
"Mom...I haven't been to these sites in years it feels. I had been missing out on what I couldn't remember...Two years gone by and so much has changed...but our poetry still remains. Our combined heart spilled onto the page, as we laughed, as we cried, as we grew closer undoubtedly. I have so much to say, and no words to describe; since you left, the words are like tides. Flowing from the mind to the hand and then back again; never touching a drop of ink. You were and always will be my source of lettering; the ink to my paper, as we are mother and daughter. The physical distance between us is great, yet the metaphysical distance is less. All that I need to put the feelings onto paper, is your touch of love, the mothering grace; the one you had given me through our years of poetry. When I write with you, it is like no other; you truly are the best mother. I love you very much mom!"
Deep within the heart of the blackened glade
Sleeping in the flames of the weeping shade
Laid to rest underneath the dying oak trees
The shadow of a mothera��s forgotten pleas
Run along and hide
Little darling
Run along and hide
Commit suicide
Little darling
Commit suicide
While outside her mother began collecting cans
Bathroom light on, her daughter had many plans
To take from the drawers her instrumental release
And run along her arm in hope of finding peace
Run along and hide
Little darling
Run along and hide
Commit suicide
Little darling
Commit suicide
The only place she heard her daughtera��s screams
Was within the darkened alleys of her dreams
But this poor mother never dared to have dreamt
a�?Ia��ll kill myself,a�? her daughter had really meant
Run along and hide
Little darling
Run along and hide
Commit suicide
Little darling
Commit suicide
And never return to me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
teen. male
just wrote this at like 4 AM couldnt sleep...............
ugh.
so,.,.umm tell me if u like it.
Untitled
Cant you see she misses you?
She rarely surfaces,
grieving, mourning, alone.
When she speaks her voice quivers,
when she cries her screams are mute,
but im sure you know that by now.
Dont you?
Cant you realize the truth.
That you have broken her.
Shattered her so many times,
and so grief is the only thing she feels.
That she knows.
Yet she misses you and I cannot understand why.
Why you?
She lies within me,
aching for your presence every moment.
I can feel it,
the emptiness creeping in.
The void that youve created.
And she wants you, wishes for you, waits for you.
But I know your gone.
I know and I tell her,
but she wont listen.
Because knowing will destroy her.
It is your illusion that keeps her alive.
All her love, all her life, all her being,
its all for you.
Mother
For you who granted me life,
The bond among a woman and her child can not be explained by words,
but through pure emotion.
You must know this,
For each moment together
the sentiment that connects us
permeates our consciousness.
And I will never cease to be aware
of how special you truly are.
For ive learned love rarely can be continuous,
yet ours remains constant.
Through each conflict,
each personal tradgedy
we cannot stray apart.
Mother and Daughter we stay.
Our tie handed to us by nature,
and it is her blessing thats made me yours.
Trickery
Love so pure, Love so divine, Love so meaningful,
Oh please help me.
For I have been told that it is you,
and only you who can fix my torn heart.
Although it was you who ripped it to shreds,
I beg thee to repair the damage.
For you must have made a mistake,
or have I?
In trusting you,
you who gave me such ecstasy.
Should I have known good things are merely lucid dreams,?
for it is inevitable to dream forever.
Oh Love, Just look what you have done,
shattering my soul,
pilfering my other half.
Leaving me with nothing but pieces of myself.
Is it wrong of me to ask you to fix what you have broken?
Or is destruction part of a gilded trap you devised?,
that I fell into.
A trap that poisons the heart while soothing the soul.
Oh love you have tricked me,
I have been deceived by you.
Alone, Hurt,
Destroyed.
Beauty
Beauty is the wind that whistles,
the flowers that glow in the morning sun.
Beauty is the humm of a working bee,
the look in a mothers eye when she sees her new born child.
Beauty is mother nature at her finest,
working hard,
creating miracles.
Beauty is distorted, twisted, mocked by human perception.
For it is nothing but that, a mere opinion, faulty reality.
A trick that we, mankind, force upon ourselves,
Beauty can be man made,
lulling the mind while robbing the heart.
Man's beauty is filled with deception.
Tis a mere illusion, which we, adore.
Thriving, killing, cheating in its name.
But beauty isnt what man truly wants,
for we will never know its true meaning.
And this deceit,
this lucid perception,
will cause our destruction.
Grief
Creeping slowly the pain settles upon my consious,
Feeding, leeching, devouring, sucking out all happiness.
Till my heart is empty,
and with emptiness emotion becomes lost.
Yet I live,
dreaming in my routine world.
In every aspect, every way,
I am alive.
But my soul shes dying, the grief suffocating her.
Till I am void of all feeling.
My step-mother was physically and emotionally abusive to me for 14yrs. growing up. I haven't talked to her or my father in nine years but I have alot of hate and have been struggling to move on .I would like to hear feedback on the poem as well as If I should sent it to her ?or just put it in a box ?Please help somehow after all this time I can't let go of this,and it has affected my relationship with my husband of 12yrs. Why is that?
Either way here it is.....
you've hated me so all through my life ,and all you are is my dads newest wife,
you've taken my soul and heart in such a way ,i can't forgive you to this day,
my kids were born with no sight of you, you we're supposed to be part of who they knew.
you took my childhood right out of me, you shoved my face in my own pee,
you took my head and banged it so , i've never hit an all time low,
i bet your power is your drug of choice,i bet it is when hateful actions gave me no voice,
to stop you and all the hurt, you even ripped up my favorite shirt,
you monitored my calls, and told me no, how in the hell was i suppose to grow,
i dropped out just to run from you, getting away was all i could do.
i told mom and you beat me worse, u just wanted me to end up in a hurst..
i bet you never thought with your cheerleading daughters,when i'd be the one to tread water..
i can't keep friends, or the love of my life, again this is to you,my dad's newest wife ,
no wonder why i feel like i'm dying, because im not happy ,I seem to be only crying.
i hate you,but not that you care ,grow a heart if you dare,
take back your actions and words you have said ..
because of you i have lived half dead.
i miss myself ,oh wait i don't know who that is ..all wasn't wasn't one of your kids
but somehow through the pain you've cased in my life ,again all i think of you as is my dads newest wife.
a person with no remorse for anything you've done ,well it starts with me NOW..the battle will be won...
it's gonna be awhile but i refuse to quit, not over you, and yourhatefulatefull PITY ME shit.
you've done enough damage now, i have to let go ....now it's time for me to say ,NO!!!
FINALLY
My father never stood up to her either,he,turned to drugs and alh.-he almost killed both of us when I was 8 my step-mom told him to take "your daughter"me (while) throughly intoxicated and he let his hands off the wheel and wrapped the truck around a telephone pole.
I miss my father and have heard through my half brother he and my grandma his mom are'nt doing well..I just can't bare to face her after all this time
PS. when i copied the poem from my notepad to this site it duplicated some of my words,and left out some .sorry
Thankyou all so much for your feedback this has been really difficult for me and because of that it does feel like "she's winning the battle"
Here lies, to each her parents' ruth,
Mary, the daughter of their youth;
Yet all heaven's gifts being heaven's due,
It makes the father less to rue.
At six months' end she parted hence
With safety of her innocence;
Whose soul heaven's queen, whose name she bears,
In comfort of her mother's tears,
Hath placed amongst her virgin-train:
Where, while that severed doth remain,
This grave partakes the fleshly birth;
Which cover lightly, gentle earth!
I really have no clue what ANY of this means. i have to do it for school, and i don't have to just write what the poem means for the work, so i'm not cheating now. i just have NO CLUE what this means! if someone could give me a line by line analysis of this i will be eternily grateful!!!
This poem is "On My First Daughter" by Ben Jonson, by the way.
Hi
Do you think this poem is understandable?
Bathed in sunlight
Feeling it warm upon my face
And running my hand over her wrinkled arm.
Decades between us
Yet we are as close as mother and daughter
Or father and son.
Her warm breath against my ear is comfort
From my greatest fear.
Then it's gone.
She's gone
To a place far away
They said it's what she wanted.
The tears slip
And I cry
Why oh why did you have to die?
Why couldn't I even say goodbye?
An emptiness
Is eating at my insides.
Until I am an empty shell
And it's time
For me to join her
I take Death by the hand
And go with it gladly
Departing this life
And then I see her beaming face
Brighter than the brightest star.
And I look down and see my world from afar.
A CHANGED HEART.
Together you and I always,
laughing and dining
thinkingand talking.
We stay up all hours of the day
we make cakes and tea.
Dance around the house
and making jokes.
I hope it stays like this forever
I love being with you all the time
A vioce answers back
''of course it will stay like this
you are my daughter and 'i love you'
nothing will ever change.
'Am i seeing you tonight' I ask
we can do the things we used to,
and hang out.
No replie, then i hear a shout.
''Are you ready sweetheart''
we are going out.
Who is this I wonder once again.
Mother, where are you going?
Just out again love.
You have been with your lover all week
I want time with you.
No, she says.
I go to my room and weep.
END OF PART 1
please comment i am now 26 and me and my mother used to be close as sisters wen i was younger. Her lover changed all that.If its OK I will be writing part 2 soon. thanks
2 days ago my neighbor's daughter died, We were like sisters, her name is Shoroq .. please remember her in your prayers.
This is a poem I wrote in the memory of my neighbor's daughter.
----------------------------
The Depart
-----
Cry for the living and not for the dead,
Those who wish God has taken them instead,
On August 20 she left,
And so her mothera��s tears are shed,
How could life be so cruel and unfair?
To take a life of a girl of 18, so young and fair,
For a mother to see her beloved daughter depart,
To hold the news from her sisters or to tear them apart,
The loss of a loved one, it hurts at heart,
Or when it tortures the mind,
That a loved one cannot once be there,
To remember the blessings and the memories.
She made a promise to her mother
To learn to dance just like no other
But she could feel it in her vision
To never make one bad decision
You see her mom had done a move so daring
And found the floor was not so sparing
Now shea��s slightly paralyzed
Her dream is done unrealized
Well as time went by a new contest
Her daughter vowed to be the best
She felt her mother watching her
Praying old events will not occur
But she glided to that very move
And did the leap and found her groove
Then like Fred Astaire did with a broom
She danced the floor and swept that room
Then in her ears there came a roar
The votes were in a perfect score
And to all the others who had tried
With that leap of love they were denied
But a vision seen then was not kept
Her mom forgave her as they wept
They felt their tears, they shared their cries
Her mom had won now through her eyes
She wrote a letter she wrote a song
She wrote that letter and was it long.
On every line she dropped her tears
and wondered ' why me my dear.
+Her daughter came home late that night
calling her mother it all seemed so right.
She went upstairs the door she broke
all she seen was mama hanging on a rope..
She got a knife to cut her down on paper few words were found.
Go dig my grave wide and deep
put your picture by my feet' and on my grave
please put a dove to show all I died from love.
I am writing a scene for my novel and just wanted some perspective from actual parents. I know it has to do with growing up but I can't pin point how I would like to enter this scene. So thanks for your help.
I am 18 years old male. And well, my parents never went through that phase.
This is an excerpt from the scene:
a�?Yes, exactly,a�? I said brushing the bangs from my eyes. a�?I mean, why cana��t she just be proud of what I have accomplished up to date which is, wella��.a�?
I did not know what to say. What had I accomplished up until this point? I could not recall any rewards that I had won while I was in high school nor even any contests I had won from my own poems. Now that I thought about it, I hadna��t even entered or thought about the possibility of entering any poetry contests. I guess I never really considered my own poems good enough for all of that.
a�?Do you really want to know the truth Charlene,a�? said my father, reaching into the cupboards and extracting two tall glasses. a�?Your mother behaves the way she behaves because she is scared of you.a�? He rinsed them off with hot water.
a�?Scared?a�? I asked him, with complete bewilderedment. a�?My mother, who puts me down every second of every day and who yells at me every day, is scared of me?a�?
As much as I wanted to burst out laughing I did not in fear of being disrespectful.
My father grinned and said, a�?Not you, but of who you are becoming.a�?
I was completely perplexed. I could not understand how my mother, who I viewed as Godzilla around the household, was scared of someone like me. How could I possibly frighten her in any way? The day my mother became frightened of me is the day blue shark became scared of clown fish and humpback whales of krill.
a�?She has a hard time grasping who you are becoming as a person,a�?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Then it ends.
Jill- Thank you for your feedback=]
And also yes Charlene the main character loves writing peotry and did drop out of highschool because of her distaste for the educational system and her mother did not have the luxuries she had and feels her daughter is wasting her potential especially since her daughter has financial advantages she never had. She feels her daughter is wasting her potential on writing poetry and understands that she will never really get anywhere with it or so she believes. Kind of like that,.=]
My heart sank once more, fearing another outburst like the day before.
My father walked up to her and embraced her and tried to kiss her lightly upon her forehead but she shrugged him off, scolding him with distaste. He reluctantly withdrew and asked, a�?How was your sleep, honey?a�?
She lazily gazed at me and I averted my eyes downward towards the counter.
a�?Well, I was having a good sleep until you two woke me up,a�? said mother grumpily glaring at him. a�?What was with all of the fuss, anyway?a�?
My fathera��s eyes flickered my way and I caught his gaze. A small smile pierced the intensity of my lips. He waited until my mother was busy making herself coffee; the soft grinding off coffee beans broke the awkward silence.
He made his funny gesture once more and I laughed.
a�?Now what is it?a�? My mother said turning around and glaring at me with utter disgust, as if I was nothing more than gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
a�?Nothing,a�? I said trying with all of my strength to stifle a laugh.
But I could not as a sudden tidal wave of laughter broke through the seams of my mouth and my father broke into laughter of equal merit. I howled and buried my face into my arms which were crossed upon the counter. My black hair splayed all across my arms creating a tent in which only my face would emerge from.
My mother tapped her fingers on the mahogany counters, pouring her coffee into a golden mug decorated with red roses, letting the steam waft into the air, and then took a sip.
She flustered with agitation and said, a�?I really do not see what all of the fuss is about, and what are you laughing about Miss Charlene Mae Dawson?a�?
Her voice rose stifled our laughter, yet the vibrations silhouetted within the echoes still vibrated long after subsiding to a dull whisper.
She glared at me and slammed her coffee mug down against the counter with a loud clank. I peered up from my make-shit tent, still smiling at my father who had cowered in fear of another eruption by my mother who threateningly put her hands on her hips. The small lump in my throat grew hard and painful to swallow.
a�?Nothing,a�? I said brushing my bangs away from my eyes.
a�?Nothing, huh,a�? said my mother with disbelief. a�?And what will you be doing today Miss Charlene Mae Dawson, going to the beach and writing another one of your useless poems?a�?
I said nothing.
Obviously flushed by my resistance for confrontation she continued, a�?Or will you just sit up in your room doing nothing and wasting your life away while many othera��s are out looking for jobs, going to college----a�?
She swallowed with resentment. My father bowed his head down looking at his feet and murmured, a�?Honey, please, we are trying to have a peaceful morning and you are just---a�?
He never got to finish as her chest swelled with frustration, a�?I am just what Jonathan? Her voice like feet snapping branches in two.
He sighed and continued, a�?Nothing, look, honey,a�? grabbing her by the shoulders, a�?Your constant putting down and arguing over this will not make anything better, why dona��t you just focus on giving your daughter the support she needs and stop comparing her to othera��s children out there.a�?
a�?Do you know howa��utterly embarrassing it is to go down to the country club and listen to all of the other women speak about their sona��s and daughters, about how they are going off to ivy league schools like Yale, Harvard, Princeton, West Point, amidst a variety of others----a�?
She paused and said with an even quieter tone,a�? You cana��t imagine how that must feel to know that othera��s daughters and sons are going off to college and doing something with their lives and your daughter is just---just---a�? She didna��t finish.
My father picked up where she had left off and calmly said, a�?Is just biding her time and awaiting an opportunity that best suits her. a�?
a�?She is my daughter,a�? said mother chewing the words then spitting them out and tossing his arms aside like rag dolls.
Her face contorted into a sort of ugly grimace. Her eyes glowed with anger and her face began to flash beet red as if it was a warning of a melt down. Her feet remain firmly planted upon the kitchen tile.
I peered up at my father, eyes widened with surprise. He had never spoken out against my mother like that before. I did not know what to say.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Basically in a nut shell:
Her mother is mad because she didn't graduate has not job all she does is write poetry. Her father is understanding has a great relationship with her daughter mother doesn't. Charlene (daughter) meets a black girl whose dialect is a bit different because she is from the other side of town, she is poor but she did graduate, a clash between two social and economic backgrounds.=]
They change each others lives.
Father learns he has prostate cancer and eventually dies.
She narrates in the end that he does=[
I
Chapter 1:
a�?Mother and daughter collide over school
a�?Father mother daughter introduced
a�?Daughter and father fall asleep together
Chapter 2:
a�?Introduce father as lawyer
a�?Charlene walks on beach (writes a poem)
a�?Dad offers that she volunteer at the local convalescent hospital
Chapter 3:
a�?First day of volunteering at hospital
a�?Meets another girl named Alexis
a�?Invites Alexis Over for dinner
Chapter 4:
a�?Writes poetry in her room when her father enters.
Asking her if she is alright, she says she is okay and he pats her on the head and leaves
a�?Next day Alexis and Charlene spend the day at the beach
a�?Alexis spends the night talks about her boyfriend
Chapter 5:
a�?Alexis is found missing by the docks bleeding and crying
She was gang raped by her boyfriend and his friends and they dropped her off there.
a�?Charlenea��s father is lawyer for Alexis.
a�?The case of alexis vs. Danny RipWater Begins
Chapter 6:
a�?Mother, drunk, beats Charlene, father rushes in and stops her.
a�?Father and Charlene go walking on the beach (use the penny paragraph)
a�?Alexis hearing
Chapter 7:
a�?Dannya��s friends deny danny ever did anything to alexis, they are found guilty and sentenced to jail time but danny is let go on bail of 10, 000. Uproar in court, drama, crying over decision,
a�?Father asks for divorce from her mother
a�?Charlene has a weight lifted up off her shoulders
Chapter 8:
i asked this a few days ago, and i got some very good, insightful answers but i would like some more users opinions.
my fiance's 17 year old sister committed suicide last month. the family is taking this very hard, especially my mil because she feels like this was all her fault. sherry, the deceased sister, was into drugs and drinking and lived with her 26 year old bf, and that is where she killed herself. (hung herself in the garage of the boyfriends house when no one else was home)
my mil let her move in with the bf back in dec of 08 after she stole from the family for drug $.
but my question is that im worried about my mil. i know that losing a child must be the most terrible thing a mother can go through, and i cannot imagine it.
but i am worried about my mil not handling this healthy at all. she never leaves the house except to go to the cemetery daily and next door to her sisters house. she built a shrine for sherry in the dining room w/ pics of sherry and poems and flowers and candles and things, which she cleans daily.
my mil also takes her other daughter, whose 15, for an ice cream cone and they eat it down at the grave site "with sherry" a couple times a week. my mils bday was a few days ago, and my fiance and sister got her a card and they signed it. mil got upset b/c nobody signed for sherry and demanded that somebody signed for her since "sherry wasn't available to sign it today."
my mil also talks to the grave and says see you tomorrow baby sleep tight tonite. sherry's 18th bday is in 3 weeks, and my mil's sister is baking a cake for her and every1 in the extended family is going down to the cemetery on sherry's bday w/ cards and gifts to lay on her grave. they are also going to eat cake down there by the grave and sing happy birthday to her. my mil is also taking sherry's cat down to see her for her bday.
im not being insensitive, i am honestly asking if this is normal grievance. i am worried my mil will never get back to normal. she seems to be in denial to me. very severe denial. she has even gone so far as to say she pretends that sherry stills lives across town and she can call if she wants to. she plans to get sherry's cat cremated and bury the ashes over sherry's grave when the cat passes away. i have never lost a child so i really have no idea, but i don't want my mil to harm herself in the process of grieving. is this natural or normal behavior? when and will she get better?
the strangest part to me is the my mil acts as if sherry is still living. i think by doing this, she prolongs grieving and letting go. not that i expect her to do that immediately or soon or anything like that. this just reminds me of those couples who still set a place at the table and dish out food for there deceased spouse, my mil would honestly probley be doing this if sherry had lived here when she died.. it hurts me to see her this way.
i am not going to say anything b/c frankly it isn't my business to say the least. but i don't want my mil to develop some serious issue in a few years when i saw the red flags from the beginning. like i mentioned, i have no clue how hard this can be for my mil. but i wanted to see if it was normal or a serious red flag.
My father walked over to where I was seated and he put his arm around me and softly whispered in my ear, a�?Everything will be alright Char-char, stop crying, everything will be okay.a�?
I glanced upward into his soft brown eyes and saw that he too, was crying. I bowed my head back down towards my plate unable to see him in such an emotional state. I did my best to gather myself and wiped the tears away with my sleeve although they continued to pour involuntarily.
He took my plate which had barely been touched. The salmon and vegetables lay cold upon the plate although the faint trickle of its aroma still lingered within my nostrils. He rinsed the plate with hot water and then walked over to the fridge.
a�?I have some,a�? said father bending over into the refrigerator. a�?I think I have some chocolate cake here somewhere---ah---yes!a�?
He pulled out a half-eaten chocolate devil cake which sat on a crystal plate wrapped in seram wrap.
a�?Now, he said smiling. a�?I know you cannot resist chocolatea��devila��cake, now can you char-char?a�?
He let the words flow out of his mouth in an exaggerated manner, lifting the cake up towards his nose, smelling its contents in humorous seduction.
I wiped my eyes and I could not help but smile. I stifled a laugh but it escaped through excessive giggling. I did love chocolate devil cake.
a�?Can I have some ice cream too?a�? I said quietly.
He put the cake down on the counter next to me, walked over, taking my hand in his and said, a�?You can havea��anythinga��you want.a�?
I embraced with as much love and warmth as I could possibly give. He kissed me on top of my head as I let the warmth of his body ease my shaking.
Later that night while the cool ocean breeze swept through my window, my father and I sat on my bed cuddling with love only a father and daughter could share. This special bonding I would come to cherish above all else. When I was locked in his embrace I felt as if the weight of the world was suddenly lifted off of my shoulders. I loved my father so very much.
I lay my head against his shoulder and opened my notebook, a�?I wrote a poem today when I was down at the docks by the beach,a�? I said in a soft voice flipping through the pages.
a�?Is that so,a�? asked father eyebrows raised and massaging my scalp. a�?I would love to read it.a�?
I smiled, glancing into his eyes; his entire face glowed from the illumination conceived by the lamp shade that sat atop my bedside table. I continued flipping through the pages until I found the poem I had written. I smiled once more.
a�?Okay,a�? I said shifting underneath the covers. a�?Are you ready?a�?
a�?Of course, baby.a�?
The page read:
The sun burned into spitting ashes
Laying upon the deep blue ocean
My eyes cast a downward glance
Dark shadows cried upon my lap
I knew you had to leave me
But why did you have to take
My tears with you, tears that could
Have been saved by being honesty
a�?The sun burned into spitting ashes, laying upon the deep blue ocean,a�? I slowly read sniffling back tears left over from dinner.
I continued, a�?My eyes cast a downward glance, dark shadows cried upon my lap, I knew you had to leave me, but why did you have to take my tears with you.a�?
At those words my father held me even tighter.
a�?Tears that could have been saved,a�? I paused, letting the words hang in the air for a bit before continuing once more. a�?By being honest.a�?
I slowly closed my eyes and closed the journal. I took a deep breathe and gazed upward into fathera��s eyes. He was crying.
a�?That was---a�?said father choking back sobs. a�?That was beautiful.a�?
a�?Thank you,a�? I said with a whisper, staring down at my lap.
I shifted underneath my covers once more until my entire body was leaning against his. He leaned over and turned off the bedside light covering me with his arms, shielding me from the rest of the world.
The ocean waves lapped against the quiet shores while the light from the stars and the moon shone through my blinds and upon my face. I relaxed while his chest rose and fell against my shoulder; his breathing was soft like a petal drifting through the wind.
My gaze never left the whitened spectacle of the sky, with all of her radiance and pride while her stars surrounded her with loving adoration.
My eyelids began to heavy, and I leaned against my fathera��s body grateful for his comfort, then I slept long and hard, still dreaming of the wonders of the ocean.
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I am trying to make the characters as believable as possible. Some of this actually happened in my own life. The girl is based off my own girlfriend of now , her names Charlene and she has similiar characteristics. The mother is actually, well was, how my mother treated me same situation, the father loves to cook as does mine but most of what he says is basically my standpoint on life and perspective. But he i
The Stump
There were five of us,
Five to venture into the jungle.
All was pleasant,
Though not long lasting,
As a tree branch snapped,
And impaled my grandmother.
Blood gushed from her every orphus,
We could not save her,
So we smiled;
We had more water.
Miles more had past,
And so we came upon a narrow bridge,
Below crocodile infested waters;
The epitome of my mothera��s heart.
I pushed her over the edge,
Watched the beasts devour her flesh.
Revenge was sweet,
No one missed that nagger,
So we looted her purse and continued;
Three of us in the jungle.
When the sun had set,
We lay to rest,
A bed of soft jungle leaves.
The night was not calm,
There was business to be done,
And so I grabbed some rope,
And tied together His hands and feet,
I dragged him to a tree,
And there I lay him for a moment.
The moment ended,
As I lit some tinder;
Set that bastard on fire.
I laughed as he burned,
As his skin blistered,
And finally he was but a pile of ashes and bones;
I took his bones to feed my dog.
Then there were two of us,
Alone in the jungle,
I could not stand his company;
The poor excuse of a husband.
Large log in hand,
I knocked him out,
Cold on the ground.
There I drew my blade,
Castrated his manhood;
Laughed as each of his fingers was removed,
Each of his toes sliced away,
His arms,
Than his legs;
So he was nothing but a stump.
a�?This is what you made me feel like I saida�?;
Like a worthless stump.
The starred word is suppossed to say n@gg3r...
my fiance's 17 year old sister committed suicide last month. the family is taking this very hard, especially my mil because she feels like this was all her fault. sherry, the deceased sister, was into drugs and drinking and lived with her 26 year old bf, and that is where she killed herself. (hung herself in the garage of the boyfriends house when no one else was home)
my mil let her move in with the bf back in dec of 08 after she stole from the family for drug $.
but my question is that im worried about my mil. i know that losing a child must be the most terrible thing a mother can go through, and i cannot imagine it.
but i am worried about my mil not handling this healthy at all. she never leaves the house except to go to the cemetery daily and next door to her sisters house. she built a shrine for sherry in the dining room w/ pics of sherry and poems and flowers and candles and things, which she cleans daily.
my mil also takes her other daughter, whose 15, for an ice cream cone and they eat it down at the grave site "with sherry" a couple times a week. my mils bday was a few days ago, and my fiance and sister got her a card and they signed it. mil got upset b/c nobody signed for sherry and demanded that somebody signed for her since "sherry wasn't available to sign it today."
my mil also talks to the grave and says see you tomorrow baby sleep tight tonite. sherry's 18th bday is in 3 weeks, and my mil's sister is baking a cake for her and every1 in the extended family is going down to the cemetery on sherry's bday w/ cards and gifts to lay on her grave. they are also going to eat cake down there by the grave and sing happy birthday to her. my mil is also taking sherry's cat down to see her for her bday.
im not being insensitive, i am honestly asking if this is normal grievance. i am worried my mil will never get back to normal. she seems to be in denial to me. very severe denial. she has even gone so far as to say she pretends that sherry stills lives across town and she can call if she wants to. she plans to get sherry's cat cremated and bury the ashes over sherry's grave when the cat passes away. i have never lost a child so i really have no idea, but i don't want my mil to harm herself in the process of grieving. is this natural or normal behavior? when and will she get better?
the strangest part to me is the my mil acts as if sherry is still living. i think by doing this, she prolongs grieving and letting go. not that i expect her to do that immediately or soon or anything like that. this just reminds me of those couples who still set a place at the table and dish out food for there deceased spouse, my mil would honestly probley be doing this if sherry had lived here when she died.. it hurts me to see her this way.
yes i agree. i am not going to say anything b/c frankly it isn't my business to say the least. but i don't want my mil to develop some serious issue in a few years when i saw the red flags from the beginning. like i mentioned, i have no clue how hard this can be for my mil. but i wanted to see if it was normal or a serious red flag.
Candle-light flickers
whispers gently
In her ear throbbing
from embers burning
with dirty secrets
Yearning to melt
The regretful wax
Yet these embers
Are cold like snow
Snow can never grow
Without water much
Like a mother can
Never grow without
Her daughter nor the
Daughter without her
Mother nor the mother
Without her father
She did not know secrets
Ran as deep as rivers
Redder than sunset
Or those cherries
They used to eat from
A bowl on Sunday
Mornings watching
Flowers bloom bees
Buzzing and sunlight
Beaming while they
Spit out the pits
Into a basket they
Wove together
What happened to those days
They used to do things
Together and actually
Enjoy doing them?
Were they spit out from
The mouth of growing up
Like pits into a basket
Wove from strands of
Peer pressure
Need for having sex
Smoking weed is cool
Stealing is okay as
Long as you do not
Get caught
The statement:
a�?School is for chumpsa�?
Is now law
And anybody who breaks
This law is now seen as
Not cool and a square
Or a geek and should
Sit at the highly
Worship rejection
Table in the cafeteria
Yeah they name tables
Now like they
Name their babies
After they have them
At the young age
Of thirteen
But dona��t tell them
I said that
They might get mad
And tell me to sit
At the rejection
Table
But what happened to those days
When kids used to be kids
And adults used to be adults
And everybody got along
What happened to those days?
Are those days gone forever
Or has the flame simply
Died out
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Spoken word partial. What do you think?
Are they decent? I wrote them in April.
Look into my eyes to tell the truth from lies,
Sadness, pain, hate, fear,
Nothing you would want to hear,
Of your daughter, only 14,
that she's always feeling these things;
In place of happiness, she feels hate,
feels like there's nothing in life to appreciate.
Depression overwhelming,
can't stop herself from crying;
Feels like dying is the only way to stop her pain.
Makes her decision, takes the pills,
those pills weren't enough to kill;
Regretting her choice, she starts to cry,
No words are enough to apologize,
To her mother, her sister, her friends,
That night seemed to never end;
And now, look into my eyes,
To know that I was strong enough to survive.
That one was about the time I tried to kill myself in September of 2008.
This one, I heard the grim reaper saying in one of my dreams:
Sleep now,
Drift away,
Into the darkness,
The darkness of your nightmare.
In this eerie darkness,
terror grows on you,
Growing like vines:
bigger and stronger every second,
the terror keeps growing:
Struggling,
Crying,
Unable to escape,
Your worst fears surround you.
Worst memories playing like a horror movie,
You give into the fear.
Overwhelming,
Terrifying,
Unable to wake up,
You cry;
Defeated by your own subconscious,
You die.
What do you think of these, and which is better?
I don't think the second one was as good either, but it's just one that I heard in a dream and wrote down when I woke up.
Also, should I change "In this eerie darkness" into in these eerie shadows"?
Idk, I'm not much of a poet.
She is controlling, manupulative, and has made my life a living hell from day one. She has my husband under her thumb and the worst part is he listens because he's a mummys boy, and if i turn around and tell her to back off (Like i have in the past and now we dont talk), I am the bad one, she tells me she hopes god will pay me back, ect. I got abused by my father in law for telling her to back off. Its bad, its worse than bad, and the worse part is my husband thinks this is all normal and cant see whats wrong and why i get so angry. She went and cancelled my engagement ring before we got married, she tried to stop the wedding, she made me cry a day before our wedding saying that I stuffed the whole wedding because I didnt give the dj the song she wanted to walk into at the reception, she sms's all the time to my husband all these love poems and assures him that no one will ever love him like she does, when we argue she comes over straight away because my husband tells her and tells me off, we see her 2 times a week and she complains to everyone about me that we never go and see her, she never buys things for our daughter, they never come to see her, we alway have to go-even when she was born, they didnt give us a wedding gift, they are trying to make us move in with them, she;s trying to get my husband to quit his job and work where she want him to....and when I turn around and get angry, I always end up looking like the bad one, and have serious fights with my husband to the point of me wanting to leave him because I cant take all of this anymore. Even now atm he's at his mums.I have spoken to her many times to back off, but i may as well have a conversation with the brick wall......HELP!!!!!!
The Wedding Day
As I held her in my arms
The first day she was born
God told me that we would never be torn
As a little girl at 4 years old
We would go to church and pray for everyone
I would put her hair in pig tails
And that smile that lit up her face
Was so beautiful
When I saw it I said to God
She looks like her mother
The one that I feel in love with
But she broke my soul
I have never been able to recover
So here was my daughter
The only one that would ever be in my heart
Forever
As the years went on it started to get hard
The teenage years that was the worst
Where she was tricked, confused
Heartbroken
My heart was aching
For my little girl
After that while this was all happenina��
She grew up looking like the most
Gorgeous daughter I know
And I was happy to say she was mine
When she was over 18
She had a boyfriend
She never felt the way she did
When she was with other men
She was special to him
She said he is my life
The one I love
The only one
Forever to hold
He felt the same way
So one day he came to me
We were talking about her
How he wanted to propose
I felt so great
That this would work out this way
I thought about it
I really liked him
I wanted my girl to start a life
So I said yes
One morning I woke up
She was here
She sat by my bedside
And looked me straight in the eye
I knew what it was
She was glowing like a star
Shining like a new car
With that smile that was emerging
She needed to tell me something
She said Daddy walk me down the isle
That was the day
That I gave my princess away
The wedding day
The most exciting day
That she has been looking for
She will remember this forever
The love of her life
Was standing at the podium side
Dressed in a tux
So handsome
Waiting to be married with his true love
The room filled up with glee
But I did not plead
It was very hard for me
I needed to let her go
But I didna��t know how
This man that she loved
I hope never breaks her soul
The wedding day
That I cry for her
Will be something special to remember
I remember when she was little
I always wondered how this would turn out
I dona��t want to let my princess go
She is my little girl that I know
My flower my star
I saw everything from the start
But I hope to God
That she will be happy
For the rest of her life
My life has been filled with hurt
I hope she never feels the way I do
When I got off the road and fell
And never came back the right way
So the preacher said it was time
To let my baby girl shine
Before we opened the door
I turned to her
And said I love you
I always do
And if anything happens you know Ia��m here
Her eye filled up with tears
And said to me thank you daddy
This is the best day of my life
So I grabbed her in my arm
One of the men pulled the door
The doves went flying
And I knew she had butterflies in her stomach
Gracefully we walked down isle
And I knew that it was getting close
The love of her life
Was standing right there
And we stopped
So I said to my pumpkin
My little girl
Youa��ll always be in my heart
She whispered something my hear
The only one that could hear
So she hugged me
I went down and sat on the bench
I saw her mother
Sitting with her other
Husband
And I thanked the lord
That I wasna��t him
The preacher began to speak
My little girl
Looked so beautiful in her wedding dress
So I had given her away to another man
That would fill her dreams
And that was the wedding day
I will always remember
The wedding Day
Was the day I gave my princess away
what do you think about it? need to add things or edit? sorry it was long
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