This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Last Sibling.

My sons were born some years ago…

they swelled my pride and filled my soul

now their mother hates me…this I know

I used to be a daddy once…

They are smart and they are strong

I hope they understand that I was wrong

the name I’ve shamed…they carry on…

I used to be a daddy once…

Because of lust…I’ve a broken home

my heart is pained…I’m sooo alone

I cling to hope and clutch the phone…

I used to be a daddy once…

So listen fathers to my words so blue..

to your wife…your love be true…

dont let my story happen to you…

I used to be a daddy once…

to the one who nursed my joys…

my perfect kids…my loving boys..

who unknowingly killed me with feindish ploys…

I used to be a daddy once…

So hug your kids and hug them tight

thank your maker you’re there tonite

but because of anger…I lost that right…

I used to be a daddy once…

Now if only I could reverse the clock…

I’d be a better man…on this take stock

into sunsets with my kids …I would walk…

I used to be a daddy once….

So listen now and listen well….

forgive me mother…I’m here in hell

so learn this story..these words do tell…

I used to be a daddy once…

To be with my boys…hear me mother…

I’d be a good dad…a faithful lover..

to be true to my family…to want no other…

Just to be their daddy once…

I know my faults..please understand..

My spirit was weak..I’m just a man

to be with my boys…is my greatest plan…

Let me be their daddy once…

I cling to hope…I clutch at straws

I know my rights…I hate the laws..

so hear me now…please take pause…

I used to be their daddy once….

this is my story…of my wounded pride…

I’ve exposed my fear…it will not hide..

I was wrong…there is no side….

I used to be their daddy once…

Mike Laures – 2007

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at I Used to be a Daddy Once.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at life is strange.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at christmas year round.

Where the people were produced

Other selves to be themselves

With love and hate, with anger and smile

With happiness and sadness

And even with confusion, and lies

I’m not the one of their victims

There must be anyone else

I’ve realized that I’m not alone

Now I know, I’m the victim of absence

And the absence should lived me

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at In the Dark Corner.

Can you see where it is that you want, and need, and should go? Are there others in tow? A miss step, a delay…another set back, another delay. Is the precarious really that precarious.

Only certainty for the certain and well-allotted.

Every measure is a measure of direction. A balance of chance, luck and good fortune. No not so benign a reality, but sometimes so close.

Happiness and fortune rest on a turn. sadness and despair beg chance to come near. The winds blow, chance changes and Life thinks about flipping a coin.

Win one, lose one…win , lose its a chance….its possible luck.

Blowing  sunbeams, clouds in the sky. Its a lovely day, a cool breeze.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Random.

For the world is just for the fighters in us
and losers can all die without fuss.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at The Fighter.

Marriage

A day set apart by two special people

Emotions are bound to arise

Pensive, magical, mysterious.

Exciting, intriguing, joyful

Wondering if their choice is wise.

Because marriage is a sacred bond.

It takes two people

Who cared enough about each other

To enter into a sacred covenant that has no equal.

Because two individuals are now one.

Sharing every joy, happiness, sickness, sadness under the sun.

Learning many things about the other.

Things singles are not privy to know.

It is these likenesses and differences

That will tightly cement the bond enabling them to grow.

Learning new different kinds of love

Caring and sharing, laughing and weeping.

But the most important thing to learn

Is kindness and respect for each others keeping.

Harsh words, silly bickering, disrespect

Should be avoided and never cause weeping.

Tenderness and love is the secret to

A long and happy marriage.

Love soothes all wounds.

Tom Fenning

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Marriage.

Have you ever considered?

How fortunate you are

To gaze at the sky

Bejeweled by stars

And say to yourself

I wonder how many there are?

To walk through a garden

And smell the rose.

Skip through lush dewy fescue

In your bare feet and toes

Before the sun arose?

Take long walks on

A crisp fall day.

Letting your woes

Stay they lay.

Build a snowman

On a cold wintry night

Giving him eyes of coal

And a nose carrot bright.

Swim in a creek

On a warm summers noon.

Washing away

Sadness and gloom.

Ride a roller coaster

At a county fair,

Or spin in a Ferris wheel

And view the world from the air.

Ride in a convertible,

With wind ruffling your hair.

Cleansing the mind

From the days care.

Build a sandcastle

In a secluded cay

Only to have a wave

 Wash it away.

Go deep-sea fishing

On a party boat

Only to return home

With an empty tote.

Explore the bright moon

Lighting the sky at night

Wondering what it would be like

To go they’re in flight.

Watch an Eagle soar high in the sky

Floating on air currents

Zig zaging side to side

Then suddenly

Swoop down

And snatch its prey

It saw from far away.

Tom Fenning

2004

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Fortunate.

it’s been more than a year now,, since father left us,, mother, and i alone.. things have not been easy,, but we are making our way,, in this strange world,, into which we’ve both been thrown…

with father gone, and little in the coffer,, after his illness and burial and such,, our one saving grace,, has always been, the ivory keys on fathers old piano,, under mothers gentle touch..

every eve, after we’ve sup’ed,, in the dim light before we go off to bed,,, mother sits down, and speaks thru those keys.. they are her words… words left unsaid….

she speaks sometimes of her love for him,, and the music is soft and sweet,, it is playful and ticklish and smiling,, sometimes i have noticed her blush,, with a thought,, perhaps indiscreet….

and others she will wail,, and bang down hard,, on the surface of black and white keys.. reliving her days of frustration,, whilst fighting that horrible disease..

the wasting sickness that swept up father,, like a pile of old spent leaves,, and carried him away to the dustbin of life,, like a swift cold unforgiving breeze…

sometimes she will play,, and i am sure that it is,, hope i hear springing to glorious life,, and as she continues i pray that it wont spiral down yet again,, filling her heart with strife…

it has been for us both,, a blessing and a curse,, our nights spent around that piano,,, catharsis, and hope,, anger and joy,, she’s accompanied us,,, mother and i,, where ever we go..

and tomorrow when they come,, and haul her away,, to her new home in a place far from here,,, we will look on with sadness,, as if we are losing a friend, one we have both held most dear..

i cant help but wonder how we will fill our nights,, with both her and father reposed,, just mother and i in the still of the eve,, after supper,, when the drapes are all closed..

will we sit every night in the darkness,, speechless, thinking solely,, never saying a word?? or will it draw us closer,, on this road full of losses, which together she and i,, have incurred..

it is my solemn prayer,, that one night very soon,, mother will draw me to her bosom and say,, “tho’ it hasn’t been easy i’m richer by far,, having you,, daughter,, here with me each day…

by: paisley

photo:
At the Piano by James Whistler

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at at the piano.