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xavier thomas Nov 2019
When I wake up in the morning, you’re the first thing that’s on my mind.
I get out of bed, stretch real good, & yawn real loud so that you can hear me breathing.
I rush to the bathroom, quickly brush my teeth, wash my face, & run straight for you.
Running down the hallway, staring at your door, only to open it slowly to see if you’re awake.
I peek my head around the corner...
You’re eyes open as they lock onto mines with such joy.
Happiness appears on your face, reaching out for me.
Happiness upon my face, as my heart skips a beat.
Amazed with such excitement, I run as fast as I can screaming out a laugher.
We hug & kiss knowing that’s one of my favorite things.
When I wake up in the morning, our first words are:
—“I love you mommy”
—“I love baby”
frankie Jul 2018
How deep were we in?
Restrained by chains that burn our skin
Car headlights, a hush falls over
Shines through the window, time feels slower
I hope he knows that we care
He grabbed him, dragged him by his hair
Cry, scream, or maybe not
Could have done anything, but we couldn't make him stop
Nigdaw Sep 2019
At first you will love me
With an honesty and truth,
Before you learn to use me
And abuse my love for you.


After a while you will hate me
Everything I do will be wrong,
And no kind words will touch you
Or cure the ills I’ve caused.


Then one day you’ll meet me
As an equal in life,
And find you never beat me
Or turned my love from you.


When you become a parent
You’ll understand such love,
Given without condition
And more than you can tell.
Renee Jul 2019
My dear

Your body is yours to give
But is never anyone else’s to take

Beware the sweet words they will use
To try to win you over
Nigdaw Jul 2019
She sits
Watching tv
Omnipresent being
Glasses on the end of her nose
Eyes closed

Sometimes
Lost in a book
A bit of a thriller
She could always detect a lie
Bad vibes

Dab hand
In the kitchen
Always something cooking
We’re the recipe for children
She made

Mother
Always at home
Waiting for our return
To hear news of great adventures, the
Nest flown

Our lives
Are souvenirs
She collects our memories
Travelling with us through our days
From home
YOU
A ten-year-old boy and his two brothers up in the cerro for three months during the rainy season, with their herd of goats. You camped inside a little house made of rocks with a roof of large leaves and every so often you or one of your brothers ventured down the mountain to your mother’s house to bring back food.
You who as a teenager helped your family keep bees. I wonder how you have managed to live in a city for 30 some years. How you have become accustomed to the L.A morning commute. HOW.

ME
I have outgrown the linen tops you bought me as a child
but not running barefoot & spreading my toes in the mud.
I still like to climb the trees, and lay on the grass and if
I ever find a bee indoors I cup one palm over the other, and take it outside.
Me who as a teenager helped you plant the tomatoes, cut the pumpkins and who’d run outside to snip some leaves from the cedron for tea. How do I live in a city again? How do I breathe deeply enough to find the traffic on the highway “ another” part of life? HOW.
Logan Robertson Jan 2019
Every so often children throwing tantrums
Catch parent faces, bracing fallen sourness
Where outlines wrinkle rosy outlook sadly
Raisins having pits

Logan Robertson

1/16/2019
Read CC's blog at Poetry Soup, describing  sapphic stanza with a jux. I found that form interesting, spent hours marveling and researching. I attempted my first one. Not sure if this is correct-11/11/11/5. In this poem I wrote of a parent coping with a child's misbehavior. The effect of such leaving a wrinkled image much like a raisen on the parents face with the juxtaposition at the end of the poem, which is a play on words, too, raisens/raising.
PC classic Feb 2017
A city with cemented horizons
Proposterous
Blazing and everywhere
My empty wallet after
3 day ******
God and milky way
Nights don't stop at the door

the streets are empty but the windows come alive
and the houses wake up
and there is light from the TV
and a child watching Disney Cartoons
and a parent ringing the doorbell
and dinner table conversations with the evening news on

and outside the dogs on the street chase every other vehicle that pass by

You don't even have a license.
Orange Rose Jun 2018
I walked a mile in Mother’s shoes,
Before turning around.
I realized everything I’d done,
And crumpled to the ground.

For all my tears she wiped away,
She cried a hundred more.
I heard her praying late one night,
For all God had in store.

I lived a life of pleasure.
She lived a life of pain.
She always wore a smile,
Though for all she lost I gained.

And although I’m still changing,
And growing everyday,
Her simple midnight whispers,
Have always stayed the same.
MJL Feb 2019
Horrible words
Just one more lap
Just one more dive
Just one more minute
Just watch this cannonball
Please
Pretty please
Just a little while longer
I’m not hungry
My lips are NOT blue
Just one more second
Please
Can we come back later
...Move very slowly
Whittney May 2018
Fighting on the front lines
With red pens
For creativity,
For independent thought,
For common sense
Not Common Core

This is a battle in a bureaucratic war we’re losing
Keep pushing and shoving against an impenetrable wall
But we’re only foot soldiers, not actually giving orders

Kids look down on us and they ask,
“Will this be on the test?”
And say,
“Get out of my face.”

Taught by parent(s) to resist.
These are Kids who fail to create
But recite, recall, and retaliate

“Mistake” has become a forbidden word.

School is no longer a safe haven
Testing, testing, 1-2-3 hundred murdered students, teachers

Hanging by a thread and losing the grip a little more every day

Following the curriculum map to X marks the standardized test.

We dig and
                  Dig and
                                 Dig
For the buried treasure trove of teaching magic. The legitimacy and respect our careers deserve. The money, the time, the love, the support.

But it’s buried under so much testing and red tape, and so    

We fail.
stopdoopy Oct 2018
A woman once
                                        Wished on star
                                        From lands afar

                              "Please oh please
                              Bright twinkling light
                              Give me a child tonight"

                    And the woman prayed
                    Every night for years
                    Her plea fell on deaf ears

          Until a goddess
          Who made me swoon
          Heard her tune;
          The Moon

Begging she had heard
The mother of Earth
The call answered
With a "birth"

          Transcending her planet
          Coming to ours
          In a pomegranate

                    Inside the botanic
                    Did she travel
                    Until cloth unravel

                              Child Delivered
                              To dainty hands
                              Such divine plans

                                        Celestial now infant
                                        Baby and parent
                                        Woman loves ancient
For Houkyou, the title is what my friend calls their daughter and the whole poem is based off of it.
As a parent
You must show that you care
Be a mentor to that child
Just always be there
Be there for guidance and protection
Show that child to reach greater heights
Instill positive thoughts
Encourage the child to take flight
nina Nov 2019
a newborn rests her head on her mother's chest.
doubting herself, the mother's breath hitches.
her heart beats too loudly.
the newborn cries.

the world is colder than she imagined.
and now she has gone deaf.
we learn to be better with each generation. is that efficient enough?
Paul Hansford Feb 2016
My poems are my children, more or less.
I care about them, want them to go far,
would like the world to love them as they are.
Or would it help if I could maybe dress
them in fancy words, improve their accent? Yes,
though a judicious measure of sobriety
might give my work commendable variety.
Alas, they're disadvantaged from the start,
these single-parent children of my art,
and I can't blame their failings on Society.
The décima is a Spanish form of ten lines (hence the name).  See my Youth and Age for more details.
pk tunuri Nov 2018
You're a Teacher first and a Parent second
As a father, you're doing great every second

You have always been true  
And knew the right thing to do
No matter how much negativity surrounds you

We wonder how do you manage to
Forgive the ones who hurt you

You gave us everything from the bottom of your heart
We inherited our love for badminton, cricket, and art

The love you gave us and the values you taught
Are so priceless and can never be bought

Here's your Birthday song, "My Dad, My Hero"
Because without you, we are nothing but a Zero

>><><><><><<

Prem Kumar Tunuri
Sunil Jaikar Tunuri
Prem Kumar TUNURI
Sunil Jaikar TUNURI
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