Son Poems | Poemist

Popular Son Poems

Visions And Interpretations

by Li-Young Lee

Because this graveyard is a hill,
I must climb up to see my dead,
stopping once midway to rest
beside this tree.

It was here, between the anticipation
of exhaustion, and exhaustion,
between vale and peak,
my father came down to me

......

A Red Palm

by Gary Soto

You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.

That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair

......

Death of a Young Son by Drowning

by Margaret Atwood

He, who navigated with success
the dangerous river of his own birth
once more set forth

on a voyage of discovery
into the land I floated on
but could not touch to claim.

His feet slid on the bank,
the currents took him;

......

The Slave Dealer

by Thomas Pringle

From ocean's wave a Wanderer came,
With visage tanned and dun:
His Mother, when he told his name,
Scarce knew her long-lost son;
So altered was his face and frame
By the ill course he had run.

There was hot fever in his blood,
And dark thoughts in his brain;
And oh! to turn his heart to good

......

Carry On

by Robert William Service

It's easy to fight when everything's right,
And you're mad with the thrill and the glory;
It's easy to cheer when victory's near,
And wallow in fields that are gory.
It's a different song when everything's wrong,
When you're feeling infernally mortal;
When it's ten against one, and hope there is none,
Buck up, little soldier, and chortle:

Carry on! Carry on!

......

Recent Son Poems

My Son John

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

My son, John, was an engaging fellow, who was barely ten years old;
And liked frogs, marbles and playing ball, in luscious, noontime gold.

My son, John, was rather a dreamer, like the lazy cloud, sky features.
My son, John, was a leader, like a plum sky moon, flying by meteors.

John was our youngest child, very loved by his sisters, father and me;
Like the richest time of day, when cobalt sea, and mirrored sky agree.

John loved hot, stuffed dumplings, oftentimes sold by street vendors;

......

Thy Foster-Child, O Nature

by Pijush Biswas

I, thy foster-child, O Nature
Swear! I tell to thee
Thy pretty mystery sucks my tear
And what happened to be
Neither I love nor hate
But 'twas a history to portray
Again and again and again!
By my desirous flame;
Not claim, nor blame!

......

For My Lovely Son

by Ayatullah Nurjati

I didn't realize I am getting old
Dusk and maybe dim like an incandescent lamp that runs out of electricity
I am not realizing this hair is now gray
Gray hair is similar to the petals of water guava that fall out sucked honey by
bees and even by the gentle wind in the dry season

I don't do much to prove that I'm a passionate person
A desire that sometimes I find it difficult to contain it
There are not many things I have done to prove that even though you are far
away, you are very close to my heart

......

black stork

by norman rockwell

Our lives were once flocked together
with no one to separate us.
But as my wings were slowly shaded
by green of color,
it enraged your beating core
and turned your feathers black,
dark like the shadows that watches over us.
However, you were not there to watch,
but to kill like every mother bird do for their chicks.
The only difference was you did it to me, your child.

......

the man

by norman rockwell

You begged me not to confess, to lie about my quiddity,
for it pierces through your skin to hear my certitude and witness my color.
So, I listened and deceived you, as well as myself.
I did it for as long as air merged out of my body.
Still and all, the time arrived where I exhausted my soul.
You noticed but stayed blind.
That's the extent of the hatred you garnered to the man I embellished.
So I apologize, for I am what you loathe, father.