Dad poems
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The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
© Edgar Albert Guest
It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell
Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well;
You's Sweet to Yo' Mammy de Same
© James Weldon Johnson
You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same;
Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name.
Yo' face is black, dat's true,
An' yo' hair is woolly, too,
But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same.
The Long March
© Mao Zedong
The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March,
Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents.
High Talk
© William Butler Yeats
PROCESSIONS that lack high stilts have nothing that
catches the eye.
Mount Bukaroo
© Henry Lawson
Only one old post is standing --
Solid yet, but only one --
Where the milking, and the branding,
And the slaughtering were done.
The Ballad Of The Drover
© Henry Lawson
Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
Comes riding home again.
Almon Keefer
© James Whitcomb Riley
Ah, Almon Keefer! what a boy you were,
With your back-tilted hat and careless hair,
And open, honest, fresh, fair face and eyes
With their all-varying looks of pleased surprise
And joyous interest in flower and tree,
And poising humming-bird, and maundering bee.
A Boy Named Sue
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.
Merrow Down
© Rudyard Kipling
There runs a road by Merrow Down--
A grassy track to-day it is--
An hour out Guildford town,
Above the river Wey it is.
The Mary Gloster
© Rudyard Kipling
I've paid for your sickest fancies; I've humoured your crackedest whim --
Dick, it's your daddy, dying; you've got to listen to him!
Good for a fortnight, am I? The doctor told you? He lied.
I shall go under by morning, and -- Put that nurse outside.
Knoxville Tennessee
© Nikki Giovanni
I always like summer
Best
you can eat fresh corn
From daddy's garden
The Moss Of His Skin
© Anne Sexton
"Young girls in old Arabia were often buried alive next
to their fathers, apparently as sacrifice to the goddesses
of the tribes..."
To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph
© Anne Sexton
Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wintgs on,
testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade,
and think of that first flawless moment over the lawn
of the labyrinth. Think of the difference it made!
Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty)
© Anne Sexton
Consider
a girl who keeps slipping off,
arms limp as old carrots,
into the hypnotist's trance,
"Daddy" Warbucks
© Anne Sexton
In MemoriamWhat's missing is the eyeballs
in each of us, but it doesn't matter
because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
You let me touch them, fondle the green faces
