Papa poems bring the best collection of short and long papa poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great papa rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these papa poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on papa are here for you.
Hotter riding home after fast-pitch practice than arriving this morning, my grand-girl asks if she can please turn on the air conditioner in my old truck. After my thumbs up she checks the dash, slides the temperature control to blue,
April 9th 1929, my father gasped his first breath of air Head populated with black curly locks No pediatrician at his home birth, when he uttered that initial blare Nor preschool instructors extant to teach him building blocks Inherent in
A hollow space within my heart Says, Hello Daddy let’s restart. Let us walk back in time, I’ll hold your hand you hold mine. Only the happy places we’ll visit The sad roads we will resist. We’ll walk down the
“A young, bubbly lass once I saw, Tall, dusky and a charming smile she wore. Like all little girls, she waited in anticipation, Of a handsome young man, Who’d love her like no one. Her little follies he would overlook,
It’s nice in here, warm and cozy And dark and oh-so-quiet Except for the strange ‘thump-thump’ And the occasional words of love. I’ve heard mama talking to me Telling me of the world out there She talks about squirrels and
Dear Nikkie, Today, you are on the threshold of a wondrous world A world that will be fascinating, fun and lots of discoveries You are stepping out of your baby clothes And entering the almost adult world You may be
He was the first man your eyes opened to.. The shivering hand that touched your tiny nose.. The strong arm you cuddled on.. His love that kept brimming but never spilled.. Those eyes that made everything seem within reach.. That
He was vanquished All the same, Died, like the birds in Philadelphia Dead is the watchword; Death was the unholy friend Longing for some quiet But there’s a noise inside my head And the noise is uninviting The walls are
Temptation- Part One Its evening and I’ve finished my class. I run through stairs, pass by corridors, And brisk walk down the lane. A dancer swaying in the peak hour trance. I reach the station, no intention to miss the
I was holding my child and whispering Papa this time will get the blue angel dress she laughed and said guguggug… I woke as the bus stopped suddenly the acrid tyre smell hit my nostrils still sleepy was tapped and
Fourth member you were But I found you second to none. There’s a proverb “all’s well that ends well” huh!!! easier said than done. Ma’s apple of eye, Papa’s Gondlo you were. Oh!!! did I tell what I felt? Hurricane.
Take into consideration what we’ve witnessed, experienced, Our brothers and sisters being Laid to rest every weekends. Their bodies being buried Six feet under this land, Their souls leaving this precious earth, Into the heavens and the horrible hells. All
Cold morning, eleven it was before the Christmas Eve, I picked my bag and wallet, To buy some Christmas gifts, Checklist, bucket list, lists in hand I had, Smile in heart that reflected in my eyes. Warm I was feeling
I looked out that window that swing still hangs there, today its not swinging it just hands in the air, You wonder you stare those days you remember when you just didn’t care. Go make your excuses and just sit
She smiled for a deep need of admiration Her world was of fantasy and delusion Her senses of mental fragmentation She welcomed someone When no one was there She never knew when she was sick Like demons tugging the stigma
Since the moment I was born,From the very first start, You loved me unconditionally with every piece of your heart, You changed me, fed me, and rocked me to sleep, You held me close whenever I would weep, Sleepless nights
Forged while in utero (the crucible concocting conception), the fluke of biology begat me – a happy go lucky boy, whose vulnerable uber travails susceptibly sprung sly as Tennessee Williams hip cat on a hot tin roof, where the faux
though moo cho yars older, i (bovine cuddly name = hay4four at aol dot com), could feign 2b a frat house bro by undergoing a facial augmentation – despite lacking dough unlike the multimillionaires here in lower merion, where a
The weeping of a mother The hard, cold face of a heartless father Poor little you, barely kicking inside Mama is about to throw you aside Let’s not blame mama, good beautiful mama Let’s blame papa, for his empty promises,
alternate title: debut of Amelie Beth Harris – McGeehan First borne progeny to the late Harriet and current octogenarian widower Boyce Harris her birth delivered more than the sum total of a healthy baby girl, she gurgled with contentment as
With roots wrinkled and parched, standing upright bluntly and lifelessly, And the green cloak being lost and you adore a thin skin of brown rusty bark falling in bits and pieces. The long chain of ants are seen no more
A tribal fear was lurking, behind a surge of emotion. The sun was looking black. A sexual abuse of a quaint flower aborts the fruit. This year we will go hungry. A nascent seed stripped on road- cries for water.
All hail the King who gives thee numbers. Those who fear him shall stand beside him, And laugh with him, Only to be crushed by him like all other unsatisfactory numbers. Faces upon faces upon names upon names, Thrown into
Looking at how vibrantly the tree’s leaves dance. Swaying side to side. Side by side. I watch the cars driving sorta fast up and down the street. The breeze have picked up some. Quite cool this afternoon is this Sunday’s
She only knew she was impelled by some force greater than her will. Touching her lips that warm her flash. Merely touching them wasn’t enough. She was drowning in a wealth of sensations. The salt maleness she could taste beneath
The fleshless hands lift the obscene violence of man for life after. The vacant eyes will search for the keys to open the sea of blood, faltering on umbrella of imitation rain of democracy. Age reaches the wolf’s den I
TTTD my split personality The voice that speaks through me My co-pilot of philosophy My creative side kick That knocks the worldliness Right out of me The expression of thoughts Deep down inside of me The motivation that sets my
If you will be so kind To lend me your time, I’ll lead you on a climb Of the metaphysical kind; Just one cautionary rhyme — Don’t stand too close behind Your presently cherished paradigm. From various cosmic residences Arrive
It all seems important until someone doesn’t remember the squabbling plans of a coven of third grade girls to torment a classmate each with a thick red pencil sharpened for poking each put together as glossy as a nine-year old
May God Bless…. The one waiting for a loaf of bread The one wandering aimlessly The one craving for love and support The one who wants to learn in School The one who got drenched in rain The one shivering
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?
Rub cheese on your knees, To cure a runny nose. Sliced onions on your bunions, To ease your itchy toes. A banana in your ear, Will dry those dreadful tears. A carrot up your nose, Will keep your vision clear.
Brahmin wrote it and Sanctified in thousands names of gods. Gods from books Ruled the sky; Over land and water. The real God is banished As dark matter! Shudra had nothing; The land his placenta fallen Or the sky he
Moments of pain, moments of peace Moments of space that I would seize If I could just have a moment or two I would love to spend those moments with you Moments of despair, moments of hope Moments of faith