Tag Archives: Family

For A Very Tolerant Mother On This Auspicious Day

My mommy was a mother

Since before I was a brother

To my sister, and she kissed her

And tucked her into bed.

Then my mommy had another

(That was me), and then no other;

She was done, and though now I’m fun

Back then we cried ‘til fed.

And feed us well my mother did,

Both me and that darn other kid,

And I’ve attested she never rested

‘Til we kids were satisfied.

Then we got bigger and less cute;

One could walk and one could scoot,

After baby-proofing and pillow floofing

She probably wanted to hide.

Alas, we found her hiding places

And made her wipe our snotty faces.

She loved us still, despite the thrill

Having long since departed.

And then we started going to school,

Which meant less time mopping our drool.

With phlegmless floors she still did chores

As we laughed and said “I farted.”

And even when my sister was bad

(I never was, just ask our dad)

With grace and calm she’d slap her palm

Anywhere but on our faces.

When we got big and pubescent

She gave us the finest present

Like love and stuff, always enough

Yet gave us private spaces.

And oh the years of meals she cooked,

Though overworked and overlooked!

Oh the the years and sweat and tears

Endured by her for us! She

Will be remembered evermore,

For all of this, but even more:

She inspired my art. She’s old, but not a fart.

I end this poem thusly.

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Together Or Apart, The Heart Still Desires

Even if the submarine is yellow

It’s hidden still, deep below the light.

Its crew works around the clock

So it’s bright all morning, noon, and night.

So even though it never feels like evening

The submariners must long for the sun,

Which they’ll be apart from, underwater

Until they’re told the mission’s finally done.

So it is to be apart from loved ones,

Trapped by distance out of your control,

Like a bird migrating by its lonesome

Or a puzzle one piece short of whole.

If you feel longing, I wish you peace;

If your family is making you consider a career in the submarine corps because they just won’t stop, I hope they cease.

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TV Breakfasts

Mom and Dad both work all day

But when the morning breaks

You should see the breakfast

That Mama somehow makes:

A hundred stacks of pancakes,

Bacon, toast, and jam,

Four glasses of fresh orange juice

And a massive honey ham,

And upon this wondrous bounty

Cometh the kids and Dad

They grab a strawberry and run

And Mom’s not even mad…

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Conversation Openers

My wife starts conversations

By saying, “Hey there honey!”

My son starts conversations

By saying, “I need money.”

But no one beats my daughter

Who starts to talk to me

With, “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said!

“I hate you! OMG!”

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Bless Me Son, For I Done Sinned

A while ago I wrote a poem

About how to be your own son.

Recently, through Jesus,

I wrote another one:

If you are a grandfather

Of your son’s male offspring

I’m happy to report that you

Can do an exciting thing…

If your son joins the clergy

As a Presbyterian

And you go to his church

Your grandkid is your Father’s son.

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Infinity

I was an ordinary guy

Who married a single mom.

My new wife had an adult son…

I chose to call him Tom.

I was the product of a household

If a single mom as well

And it just so happened that my mom

Was my son Tom’s new belle.

Mom and Tom got married

And things got really fun

‘Cause a man who’s now my uncle

Is also my stepson.

Also interesting,

And nearly twice as bad,

Is that my stepson/uncle

Is also now my dad.

So if my son’s my father

Then I really have become

My own father as well

Since I’m my father’s father’s son.

Thus I am at once myself

And someone unrelated.

One of me is weirded out;

The other is elated.

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Did You Read The New Twilight Spinoff?

I’m proud to be half-centaur

And so are my sister and brother.

We have human legs

And a centaur’s torso

And a very satisfied mother.

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When Parents Use Your Full Name

I was not prepared

For how badly I’d be scared

When mom called “a^2 + 2ab

“+b^2, come here to me.”

FYI, my name’s (a+b)^2

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The Family Diner

I went to a family diner

I ordered a “family omelette”.

The menu wasn’t specific

So I waited to see what I’d get.

When they delivered the omelette

I found myself rather stricken

‘Cause what they called a “family omelette”

Was apparently just eggs and chicken.

The submenu options included

The “family omelette deluxe”

Which, inspired by Angelina Jolie,

Was chicken with eggs from some ducks.

The Conservative family omelette

Came with napkins that asked you to pray for it.

The Liberal family omelette

Was the same, but made someone else pay for it.

The feminist family omelette

Had no eggs and weighed 300 pounds.

The black family omelette had half as much chicken

‘Cause was no daddy chicken around.

The Japanese family omelette

Came with an unrealistic hairdo

And, upon looking closer, you’ll find

It has better SAT scores than you.

When I went to that family diner

I brought my future wife on a date.

I still visit on weekends and holidays

When I don’t have a lot on my plate.

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Without My Mom You’d Still Be Pretending To Like Robert Frost

Today we thank our mothers,

The reason we’re alive,

The commuter jets of fetuses

That ensured to life we’d arrive.

And after our delivery

Their labors didn’t stop;

Our every cry reminded them

Of a long-ago hop-on-Pop.

They spent many sleepless hours

Changing diapers, wiping tears,

Just for us to becomes teenagers

All full of angst and sneers.

But two moms we thank today

Whose children are divine.

One is the virgin Mary

And the other mom is mine.

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