Most mothers are instinctive philosophers.
quote by Harriet Beecher Stowe
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Philosophers Stone
Out on the highways and the by-ways all alone
Im still searching for, searching for my home
Up in the morning, up in the morning out on the road
And my head is aching and my hands are cold
And Im looking for the silver lining, silver lining in the clouds
And Im searching for and
Im searching for the philosophers stone
And its a hard road, its a hard road daddy-o
When my job is turning lead into gold
He was born in the back street, born in the back street jelly roll
Im on the road again and Im searching for
The philosophers stone
Can you hear that engine
Woe can you hear that engine drone
Well Im on the road again and Im searching for
Searching for the philosophers stone
Up in the morning, up in the morning
When the streets are white with snow
Its a hard road, its a hard road daddy-o
Up in the morning, up in the morning
Out on the job
Well youve got me searching for
Searching for, the philosophers stone
Even my best friends, even my best friends they dont know
That my job is turning lead into gold
When you hear that engine, when you hear that engine drone
Im on the road again and Im searching for the philosophers stone
Its a hard road even my best friends they dont know
And Im searching for, searching for the philosophers stone
song performed by Van Morrison
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Some Mothers Son
Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains
song performed by Kinks
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Complementary viewpoints for friend Chandra
Philosophy and poetry
are not completely different.
Each represents a way to see
What is not always evident.
Philosophers and poets try
to understand the universe.
The answers which they can supply.
Expressed in turgid prose or verse.
Philosophers can be abstruse
and difficult to understand
Because of how they phrase their views.
I don’t dismiss them out of hand.
I much prefer the poets verse
To endless reams of complex prose.
I do not think I am perverse
Simplicity I must suppose.
Is really what appeals to me.
the poets seek to entertain
and yet express with clarity.
Philosophers try to explain.
Their reasoning in great detail.
They just succeed in boring me
Their efforts are to no avail
I will admit quite openly
I simply cannot spare the time
To plough through densely written prose.
But I find poetry sublime
I like the way it ebbs and flows.
The insight that a poet shows
can entertain and educate.
Philosophers try to impose
their views, discouraging debate.
Which does not sit too well with me.
Folks can’t stand being patronised
and will rebel instinctively.
A fact that poets recognise.
They are content to share their thoughts.
With anyone who chooses to
read the verses they have wrought.
Which may express a different view
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mother's Opinion
Mother's opinion is that we're too young to be old
And mother's opinion is we should never do what we are told
And mothers reactions are the same as they were before
And mothers anterior she gave us all of this and much more
And mothers superior, she's been through all this before
She's got a lot of things she wants to tell you
Like who you are and what you've came here for
Mothers reaction hasn't changed much since the war
And mothers opinion is the same as it was before
And mothers anterior she's got a lot of tricks up her sleeve
And mothers superior, gave us everything that we need
And mother superior, she's been through all this before
She's got a lot of things she wants to tell you
Like who you are and what you've came here for
I say hey, it sounds familiar, but it just doesn't sound the same
I say hey, it sounds familiar, but just a million miles away, hey, hey, hey
And mothers reactions are the same as they were before
And mothers anterior she gave us all of this and much more
I say hey, it sounds familiar, but it just doesn't sound the same
I say hey, it sounds familiar, just a million miles away, hey, hey, hey
It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound the same
It sounds familiar, just a million miles away, away!
It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound the same
It sounds familiar, just a million miles away
It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound the same
It sounds familiar, just a million miles away
It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound the same
It sounds familiar, just a million miles away
It sounds familiar, but it doesn't sound the same
It sounds familiar, just a million miles away, away
song performed by Men Without Hats
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Welfare Mothers
People, pick up on what Im puttin down now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Down at every laundromat in town now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
While theyre washin you can hear this sound now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!
Hard to believe that love is free now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Out on the street with the whole family now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Hard to believe that love is free now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!
People, pick up on what Im puttin down now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Down in every laundromat in town now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
While theyre washin you can hear this sound now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!
song performed by Neil Young
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Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others
From the ice-age to the dole-age
There is but one concern
I have just discovered :
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls mothers are bigger than
Other girls mothers
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls mothers are bigger than
Other girls mothers
As anthony said to cleopatra
As he opened a crate of ale :
Oh, I say :
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls mothers are bigger than
Other girls mothers
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls mothers are bigger than
Other girls mothers
Send me the pillow ...
The one that you dream on ...
Send me the pillow ...
The one that you dream on ...
And Ill send you mine
song performed by Smiths
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~ Pero Yo Te Saludo Madre ~
Since there can be no cozy place
God devised womb in Mothers.
Since no first immunization can be synthesized
God created colostrums in Mothers.
Since no nutrient can be ever chemicalized
God sprung nectarine spring in Mother.
Since no freshener can be so allayer
God formulated corpusfreshener in Mothers.
Since no smile can be so captivating
God designed smiles in Mothers.
Since no toy gizmo ever give comfy
God crafted caresses in Mothers.
Since there is no better soother
God voxed berceuse in Mother.
Since no poet can portray attributes of human
God imaged unportrayable Mothers.
All hymn psalm
All leaves are paper
All sermons parables
All sages seers literati
Stumble bumble swag to
Portray greatness and
Brilliances of Mothers.
Holiest Whole
Wholesome Whole
You’re embodiment of.
Since God couldn’t be
Present everywhere
All Highest created Mothers.
I Ms. Nivedita
Try vainly
To portray You
Condone this self but.
Pero Yo Te Saludo Madre ~ O' Magnum Bonum
- - -
[1] Pero Yo Te Saludo Madre [Spanish] ~ But I Salute You Mother.
[2] Magnum Bonum [Latin] ~ A Great Good.
- - -
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Bestof The Rest= Mother's Day & Mom Poems!
MOTHERS
There's no greater power on Earth
Than the love we get from our mothers.
They feel our fears within themselves
Far more than sisters or brothers.
As seasons pass; in time we learn
We can't always rely on others.
No mater what our mistakes may be
We know we can run to our mothers.
Mothers have great big aprons
To hide from the world our flaws.
They kiss and scold when we do wrong
Teaching compliance of laws.
From birth to death mothers lead
Our angels of kindness from above.
They give us more than anyone else
Preaching the importance of love.
Moms are certainly God's gift to Earth
So if you still have one, let it be known.
You can't imagine your life without her
While the seed of your future is sown.
MOMS
Millions of dewdrops greet the dawn
As hungry of bees buzz the clover.
Dazzling butterflies flutter about
As moms give love the world over.
Lessons learned at our mother's knee
Last a lifetime till we grow older.
Popping up when troubles accrue
Like a whispering angel on our shoulder.
Gods gives us friends that mean so much
Children, fathers, sisters and brothers.
Though far, far above all the rest
No one loves us more than our mothers.
In and out of friendships, jobs and partners
Our mothers always remain our evening star.
Those who where born to a selfish mom
Make the rest us realize how lucky we are.
How great life is to have a good mom,
[...] Read more
poem by Tom Zart
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Mothers Always Want Theirs Sons To Be Happy
mothers always want their sons to be happy
and so even if they marry someone
whom their fathers dislike
it is always them who settle for a compromise
and tell fathers to be flexible sometimes
not to hurt the hearts of sons
but sometimes when sons want something else
that only mothers understand
something that fathers cannot really compromise
mothers still compromise
and walk a mile farther
just to make their sons happy
and their sons leave them
to places that only mothers
by their loving hearts
know.
only mothers, yes only mothers,
and no one else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Daughters
I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hand
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me
Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart
On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
song performed by John Mayer
Added by Lucian Velea
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2Oth WHO WBW Celebrations: Breast-milk is Still, the Very Best!
‘Breast-milk is best, ' most doctors surely vouch,
By working mothers or one sick on couch;
It gives the babe, the human warmth and touch!
Only the lazy moms would try to grouch!
The first secreted milk Colostrum's, good,
With nutrients, immune bodies - great food!
To give her baby this, all mothers should;
Turn weak if 'tis denied, the baby could.
The Almighty destined Eve bear children
With labour-pains, and raise them up even;
The suckling-reflex too comes from heaven;
Breast-milk is best - a fact, long back proven!
Contents are ideal for the child always;
Container's ready, hygienic all days;
Matching the baby's hunger, sucking pace,
Breast-milk has kept healthy, the human race!
Milk gently comes through nipple's holes like spray!
The mother burns more calories each day;
‘The lactose suits the baby', people say;
The uterus gets back to size this way!
No formula can replace breast-milk's place!
Breast-milk is clean, sterile in every case;
The baby's brain and gaze well-developed stays;
The habit builds a bond of love that pays!
Breast-feeding does not affect maiden's form;
'Tis natural for mothers, does no harm;
It keeps the baby snug, busy and warm;
Well breast-fed baby stays happy and calm!
‘For babies' sake, let mothers learn the craft;
Breast-feeding is an art that should be taught;
The mind and hormones play a magic role;
It helps mother-hood to achieve its goal! '
‘Understanding the past - Planning the future! '
Dedicated by the Dean, IRT PMC Perundurai, TN, India
To all mothers and would-be mothers, world-wide.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-8-12
poem by John Celes
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I salute you
I salute you, all the ladies
who work late to keep on the
lights on and putting food on the
table to make the ends meet..
I salute every mother out there
who is responsible with looking
after the family, bringing joy, love
and happiness inspite of the dark
moments in the family...
I salute and put on all the single mothers who work up early and
work late just to keep on the lights on and putting food on
the table.
I salute and put on all mothers
on the radar, for the tremendous
efforts to keep the family happy
and striving to ensure the family
is happy through dark moments
of life...
I salute all mothers on the streets
who are making all ends to meet
inorder to earn a living for the survival of the family, and out of
love for the family's sake..
I salute every mothers out there
who are bringing a change to the
world and all mothers who are breadwinners, all mothers who are
playing a pivotal role for the survival and a change in the family, l salute you all....
Dedication
Mai masora(muyotcha D)
Anita Masora
Mai nyarai
Mai Muza
Mai shumba
Mai nyatoti
Mai Chitaka
God bless every MOTHER........GOD BLESS MY MOTHER I LOVE YOU MOM
poem by Donald Kuutsi
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Hymne Des Transportés (Hymn Of The Transported)
Prions ! voici l'ombre sereine.
Vers toi, grand Dieu, nos yeux et nos bras sont levés.
Ceux qui t'offrent ici leurs larmes et leur chaîne
Sont les plus douloureux parmi les éprouvés.
Ils ont le plus d'honneur ayant le plus de peine.
Souffrons ! le crime aura son tour.
Oiseaux qui passez, nos chaumières,
Vents qui passez, nos soeurs, nos mères
Sont là-bas, pleurant nuit et jour. !
Oiseaux, dites-leur nos misères !
Ô vents, portez-leur notre amour !
Nous t'envoyons notre pensée,
Dieu ! nous te demandons d'oublier les proscrits,
Mais de rendre sa gloire à la France abaissée ;
Et laisse-nous mourir, nous brisés et meurtris,
Nous que le jour brûlant livre à la nuit glacée !
Souffrons ! le crime -
Comme un archer frappe une cible,
L'implacable soleil nous perce de ses traits
Après le dur labeur, le sommeil impossible ;
Cette chauve-souris qui sort des noirs marais,
La fièvre, bat nos fronts de son aile invisible.
Souffrons ! le crime -
On a soif, l'eau brûle la bouche
On a faim, du pain noir ; travaillez, malheureux !
A chaque coup de pioche en ce désert farouche
La mort sort de la terre avec son rire affreux,
Prend l'homme dans ses bras, l'étreint et se recouche.
Souffrons ! le crime -
Mais qu'importe ! rien ne nous dompte ;
Nous sommes torturés et nous sommes contents.
Nous remercions Dieu vers qui notre hymne monte
De nous avoir choisis pour souffrir dans ce temps
Où tous ceux qui n'ont pas la souffrance ont la honte.
Souffrons ! le crime -
Vive la grande République !
Paix à l'immensité du soir mystérieux !
Paix aux morts endormis dans la tombe stoïque !
Paix au sombre océan qui mêle sous les cieux
La plainte de Cayenne au sanglot de l'Afrique !
[...] Read more
poem by Victor Hugo
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Do Not Give Poetry A Bad Name
The frogs should not have croaked a lot
when everyone is fast asleep
Aristophanes after all is right
These frogs should not live like the Clouds.
On the other hand
THe Philosophers should cling to being
Philosophers
Stay with the embrace of Reason and Not
Embrace the Strong Arms of Emotions
For Emotions belong to nothing but the
Realm of Poetry
aH! Lysistrata shall now wage her own
War against the Men
Claiming as she does
Her sole right to Eroticism
Honestly, i still love to hear the frogs croaking
In the Pond
I for the meantime loves to Keep
The Philosophers dwell in their Own
Cloud Point of view.
If Lysistrata obliges
One night with Her would be enough
After which, I shall work hard to
Give Poetry its Own Right Name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Concerning the Philosophers Stone. ( alchemical verse .)
.
And also with great diligence,
Thei fonde thilke Experience:
Which cleped is Alconomie,
Whereof the Silver multiplie;
Thei made, and eke the Gold also.
And for to telle howe itt is so:
Of bodies seven in Speciall,
With fowre Spirites joynt withall;
Stant the substance of this matere,
The bodies which I speke of here,
Of the Plannets ben begonne,
The Gold is titled to the Sonne:
The Moone of Silver hath hi part,
And Iron that stonde uppon Mart:
The Leed after Saturne groweth,
And Jupiter the Brasse bestoweth;
The Copper sette is to Venus:
And to his part Mercurius
Hath the Quicksilver, as it falleth,
The which after the Boke it calleth,
Is first of thilke foure named
Of Spirits, which be proclymed,
And the Spirite which is seconde,
In Sal Armoniake is founde:
The third Spirite Sulphur is,
The fourth Sewende after this,
Arcennium by name is hotte
With blowyng, and with fires hote:
In these things which I say,
Thei worchen by divers waye.
For as the Philosopher tolde,
Of Gold and Sylver thei ben holde,
Two Principall extremitees,
To which all other by degrees,
Of the mettals ben accordant,
And so through kinde resemblant:
That what man couth awaie take,
The rust, of which they waxen blake,
And And the favour of the hardnes;
Thei shulden take the likeness;
Of Gold or Silver parfectly,
Bot for to worche it sykerly;
Between the Corps and the Spirite,
Er that the Metall be parfite,
In seven forms itt is sette
Of all, and if one be lette,
[...] Read more
poem by John Gower
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Third Book
'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.
For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!
Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.
Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Mother and Daughter- Sonnet Sequence
I
Young laughters, and my music! Aye till now
The voice can reach no blending minors near;
'Tis the bird's trill because the spring is here
And spring means trilling on a blossomy bough;
'Tis the spring joy that has no why or how,
But sees the sun and hopes not nor can fear--
Spring is so sweet and spring seems all the year.
Dear voice, the first-come birds but trill as thou.
Oh music of my heart, be thus for long:
Too soon the spring bird learns the later song;
Too soon a sadder sweetness slays content
Too soon! There comes new light on onward day,
There comes new perfume o'er a rosier way:
Comes not again the young spring joy that went.
ROME, November 1881.
II
That she is beautiful is not delight,
As some think mothers joy, by pride of her,
To witness questing eyes caught prisoner
And hear her praised the livelong dancing night;
But the glad impulse that makes painters sight
Bids me note her and grow the happier;
And love that finds me as her worshipper
Reveals me each best loveliness aright.
Oh goddess head! Oh innocent brave eyes!
Oh curved and parted lips where smiles are rare
And sweetness ever! Oh smooth shadowy hair
Gathered around the silence of her brow!
Child, I'd needs love thy beauty stranger-wise:
And oh the beauty of it, being thou!
III
I watch the sweet grave face in timorous thought
Lest I should see it dawn to some unrest
And read that in her heart is youth's ill guest,
The querulous young sadness, born of nought,
That wearies of the strife it has not fought,
And finds the life it has not had unblest,
And asks it knows not what that should be best,
And till Love come has never what it sought.
But she is still. A full and crystal lake
So gives it skies their passage to its deeps
In an unruffled morn where no winds wake,
And, strong and fretless, 'stirs not, nor yet sleeps.
My darling smiles and 'tis for gladness' sake;
[...] Read more
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Mother Poems
We have Fathers Poems
Why not Mothers Poems?
Without our Mothers, we won't be born,
Without Mothers, We are so forlorn.
Babies, Mothers nurture,
And guide us in our future.
To Mothers everywhere,
Lovely poems, I do declare!
poem by Philo Yan
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A Mother's Day Poem For You
Written by my Grand daughter
Cayce Taylor
Her first poem.
May 6,2008
Mothers do not like it
When their children are sad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are bad.
Mothers do not like it
When their children are mad.
But, Mothers do like it
When their children are glad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been sad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been bad.
Dear mom, I am so sorry
When I have been mad.w
Dear mom, I only want
To make you very glad.
Happy mothers day mom from Cayce
poem by Loyd C. Taylor
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A Mothers Love
A mothers love is everlasting, forever
A mother and her child will always be together
A mothers love for her child through the smiles and the tears
Will stay strong for years and years
A mothers love will never die
Even if sometimes her child makes her cry
A mother can really reach up high, and touch the sky
When next to her is her child
A mothers love will reach beyond the grave
When a mother is with her child she will always be brave
Two children or one, daughter or son
More precious than the stars above
You can never take a mothers love
poem by Natasha Potter
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