Poems about Parents
#parent
Poems about parents, childhood memories and nostalgia about our parents. Along with heartfelt and emotional poetry, expressing admiration, respect and sadness for aging parents. You'll also find poems about becoming a parent and the challenges of parenthood.
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RELATIONSHIPS THAT JOIN AT HIPS
#love
#lust
#parent
#sex
#rhyming
149 reads
3 Comments
Dreams echoes and vibrations
This dream is now yours
know this to be true
I am but a bit character that someday will not be
To perhaps be a rose known as nemo
Surely that would put the bard to rest?
However I am rambling whimsical nonsensical
Kiddo daddy never stopped thinking of you
so much catching up with the constraint
So little time
To be honest I would not know where to begin
The first few years with you
Joy
Then those years long apart, scarcely an echo
empty silence would cause many to...
know this to be true
I am but a bit character that someday will not be
To perhaps be a rose known as nemo
Surely that would put the bard to rest?
However I am rambling whimsical nonsensical
Kiddo daddy never stopped thinking of you
so much catching up with the constraint
So little time
To be honest I would not know where to begin
The first few years with you
Joy
Then those years long apart, scarcely an echo
empty silence would cause many to...
#father
#parent
#family
#daughter
#responsibility
129 reads
2 Comments
winter in Cascais
Winter in Cascais
This is a cold day, and bleak too, like a fish left behind
on the grass verge when the anglers go home for lunch
Sport fishing doesn't mean you want to eat the prizes
She is having salmon today at the cafe on the first floor of our building,
I, when a farm boy in Norway, was served salmon or trout every day except Sundays
will settle for a slice of ham, boiled potatoes and salad
Olive oil is used here in Portugal, but I think food tastes better with butter.
So, said the great chef and entertainer who hung himself
with a...
This is a cold day, and bleak too, like a fish left behind
on the grass verge when the anglers go home for lunch
Sport fishing doesn't mean you want to eat the prizes
She is having salmon today at the cafe on the first floor of our building,
I, when a farm boy in Norway, was served salmon or trout every day except Sundays
will settle for a slice of ham, boiled potatoes and salad
Olive oil is used here in Portugal, but I think food tastes better with butter.
So, said the great chef and entertainer who hung himself
with a...
#brother
#parent
#childhood
#separation
#responsibility
49 reads
0 Comments
[[sometimes underground walkways, other times private parking lots]]
[sometimes underground walkways, other times private parking lots]]
We curled into each other,
in the parking lot,
hooked, lined and sinkered,
legs and arms and blankets
where electric lights and Mercedes cars
stayed dry from the wet gloom of the city.
He had a bottle of cheap cider,
they had cigarettes, passed them 'round,
called me the 'Angel',
we found this place as it was an alley away
from the youth centre we went as kids
when we had nowhere else to go.
With no one else to listen,
they taught me...
We curled into each other,
in the parking lot,
hooked, lined and sinkered,
legs and arms and blankets
where electric lights and Mercedes cars
stayed dry from the wet gloom of the city.
He had a bottle of cheap cider,
they had cigarettes, passed them 'round,
called me the 'Angel',
we found this place as it was an alley away
from the youth centre we went as kids
when we had nowhere else to go.
With no one else to listen,
they taught me...
#parent
#teens
#home #healing
#home #healing
111 reads
1 Comment
Fathers and Sons of Gaza
He does not look at the child in his arms
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
he looks only ahead, his feet fly
at the spur of worry, does a child
weigh less when it loses playfulness?
he does not look at the child in his arms
The stagger of his run make the limbs
of the child sway, giving a semblance
of breathing, his arms tighten to keep
the pieces from falling, he searches
for succor in the eyes of other men
he meets only quiet hopelessness
sitting on rubble of erstwhile homes.
#sadness
#children
#parent
#war
#death
135 reads
2 Comments
An Open Letter to My Father
12/20/2018
Dear Frank, I want to be frank with you,
I want to be open and honest with what I’m about to say,
Because even though I said goodbye some time ago,
I’m blue because today it ended this way.
I know you had your demons, they’re hard to let go,
But you fought hard and fell and got up and fell again,
And though you didn’t always make the best choices,
After so many long talks, I know there was good in you.
I know we laughed, we cried and you tried,
But I always loved hearing you talk to your grandchildren,...
Dear Frank, I want to be frank with you,
I want to be open and honest with what I’m about to say,
Because even though I said goodbye some time ago,
I’m blue because today it ended this way.
I know you had your demons, they’re hard to let go,
But you fought hard and fell and got up and fell again,
And though you didn’t always make the best choices,
After so many long talks, I know there was good in you.
I know we laughed, we cried and you tried,
But I always loved hearing you talk to your grandchildren,...
#father
#parent
#death
#memories
#son
1052 reads
4 Comments
orphan
There’s a day that is coming when all the last will be first and
every orphan will be home.”―Steven Curtis Chapman
afghan wars
have orphaned me,
in stages.
silent stars
weep over me,
for wages
overdue
cannot be paid
...
every orphan will be home.”―Steven Curtis Chapman
afghan wars
have orphaned me,
in stages.
silent stars
weep over me,
for wages
overdue
cannot be paid
...
#mother
#father
#children
#parent
#war
109 reads
2 Comments
If You Wish To See Her Again, Give Us What We Want!
Pamela was in
the middle of enjoying
her massage before
two thugs kidnapped and held her
for ransom from her parents.
the middle of enjoying
her massage before
two thugs kidnapped and held her
for ransom from her parents.
#parent
#bullying
#fiction
#tanka
#mystery
83 reads
0 Comments
Teenagers
A slow kiss
clothes peeling off
bodies smooth
sliding close
in tune with the music
on the car radio.
Shirt buttoned wrong
pants zipper down
hair all a mess
mom and dad frown
girl gets pregnant
shotgun wedding bound.
clothes peeling off
bodies smooth
sliding close
in tune with the music
on the car radio.
Shirt buttoned wrong
pants zipper down
hair all a mess
mom and dad frown
girl gets pregnant
shotgun wedding bound.
#parent
#teens
#sex
#cars
#pregnancy
159 reads
7 Comments
Hank
I remember the first time I met him,
I was only nine years old,
he had dropped by with a dozen red roses,
this story I have never told.
He was taking my mom on their first date,
when I greeted him at the door,
holding a bouquet of red roses,
so beautiful I could not ignore.
His smile was big under that white cowboy hat,
a white western shirt he wore,
faded old blue jeans and cowboy boots,
holding red roses, oh yes I mentioned that before.
They married not too long after,
he had easily won all of...
I was only nine years old,
he had dropped by with a dozen red roses,
this story I have never told.
He was taking my mom on their first date,
when I greeted him at the door,
holding a bouquet of red roses,
so beautiful I could not ignore.
His smile was big under that white cowboy hat,
a white western shirt he wore,
faded old blue jeans and cowboy boots,
holding red roses, oh yes I mentioned that before.
They married not too long after,
he had easily won all of...
#mother
#parent
#memories
#WritingPoetry
#dating
98 reads
14 Comments
The Joy They Bring
Hearing the voices of my children
the hugs and smiles they give
their willingness to be there in my older age
being together during the holidays
these things bring me more joy than I can say
with the turning of every page.
the hugs and smiles they give
their willingness to be there in my older age
being together during the holidays
these things bring me more joy than I can say
with the turning of every page.
#happiness
#love
#children
#parent
#family
105 reads
6 Comments
The One I Call Dad
My father he was just the seed,
but he was not the one who raised me.
He was not the one who took me under his wing,
not the one who taught me how to ride a bike or swim.
He was not the one who built me a scooter out of wood,
and not the one to take a splinter out of my foot.
He was not the one who played ball with me inside the house breaking my mother's vase,
and not the one in a scary mask handing out treats to the kids on Halloween night.
No, the one I am talking about is the one who adopted me,
the one I call my dad, the one I love with all...
but he was not the one who raised me.
He was not the one who took me under his wing,
not the one who taught me how to ride a bike or swim.
He was not the one who built me a scooter out of wood,
and not the one to take a splinter out of my foot.
He was not the one who played ball with me inside the house breaking my mother's vase,
and not the one in a scary mask handing out treats to the kids on Halloween night.
No, the one I am talking about is the one who adopted me,
the one I call my dad, the one I love with all...
#love
#parent
#childhood
#family
#WritingPoetry
106 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Parents