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My favorite one since my high school days is "Invictus"
My second favorite is "If" by Rudyard Kipling
My second favorite is "If" by Rudyard Kipling
Posted in these groups: 
Poetry
Poetry
Edited 10 y ago
Posted 10 y ago
Responses: 37
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SGT (Join to see) and other moms I think you'll appreciate this.
This little ditty I wrote myself for my wife after returning from Iraq. It's about taking care of our 3 kids.
THE REF
By: Bob Petrarca, Jr. December 18, 2006
She doesn’t aspire to be an umpire
In the World Series or Super Bowl.
Maintaining order, day in and out,
Is truly, her only goal.
She’ll never moonlight in the NBA
Or on the ice in the NHL,
Her day is absorbed by her career,
One she’s suited for so well.
The games start bright and early,
On the one-yard line of the day.
It’s first and ten with twelve hours left,
“Get ready, get set, go play!”
They are not seven foot point guards
Or huge linemen playing defense
But her players can cause total chaos,
Being constantly on the offense.
She’s right smack in the middle
Of disputes, both big and small,
With senses sharp and voice so strong
And both eyes on the ball.
“Who just did a body slam
And caused someone some pain?”
“Who took whose pile of building blocks?”
“Who has the choo-choo train?”
“Whose turn is it to pick the show?”
“Who wants what to eat?”
“Who is whining and for what?”
“Who’s sitting in whose seat?”
“Whose turn is it with what toy?”
“Who goes first this time?”
“What just flew across the room?”
“You’re Daddy’s kids, not mine.”
When the parties to the argument
Can’t seem to work it out
You’re the one who makes the call
With the power that you tout.
“March straight up into your room!”
“For a long time-out you’ll go!”
You impose the penalty decisively,
With no whistle or flag to throw.
“Lower your voice, you’re much too loud!”
“Please be quiet while I think.”
“I just heard the toilet flush,
But I didn’t hear the sink!”
“You can’t wear that, it’s dirty.”
“On backwards are you pants.”
“Please do what I ask of you,
Without a song and dance.”
You sustain the daily rhythm.
And keep the schedule on track.
You strive to keep the house together
And the kids off each other’s back.
Aspirin and a night alone
Are the bonuses you receive,
Though you deserve much more than just
Pharmaceuticals and a brief reprieve.
The work can be quite stressful
And the days off far and few,
But no one does it half as well
Or with the finesse you do.
Although the job pays little,
And with it comes no fame,
No glory or free time for yourself,
You work hard just the same,
You do it for your children
As any parent would,
To help them grow and nurture them
The way you know you should.
While the simple scenes you settle
Will never play a Broadway stage,
The direction you give is vital to
Your children’s coming of age.
As every day you take the field,
For an ovation we should stand.
All hats off to Mom, the ref,
The fairest in the land!
This little ditty I wrote myself for my wife after returning from Iraq. It's about taking care of our 3 kids.
THE REF
By: Bob Petrarca, Jr. December 18, 2006
She doesn’t aspire to be an umpire
In the World Series or Super Bowl.
Maintaining order, day in and out,
Is truly, her only goal.
She’ll never moonlight in the NBA
Or on the ice in the NHL,
Her day is absorbed by her career,
One she’s suited for so well.
The games start bright and early,
On the one-yard line of the day.
It’s first and ten with twelve hours left,
“Get ready, get set, go play!”
They are not seven foot point guards
Or huge linemen playing defense
But her players can cause total chaos,
Being constantly on the offense.
She’s right smack in the middle
Of disputes, both big and small,
With senses sharp and voice so strong
And both eyes on the ball.
“Who just did a body slam
And caused someone some pain?”
“Who took whose pile of building blocks?”
“Who has the choo-choo train?”
“Whose turn is it to pick the show?”
“Who wants what to eat?”
“Who is whining and for what?”
“Who’s sitting in whose seat?”
“Whose turn is it with what toy?”
“Who goes first this time?”
“What just flew across the room?”
“You’re Daddy’s kids, not mine.”
When the parties to the argument
Can’t seem to work it out
You’re the one who makes the call
With the power that you tout.
“March straight up into your room!”
“For a long time-out you’ll go!”
You impose the penalty decisively,
With no whistle or flag to throw.
“Lower your voice, you’re much too loud!”
“Please be quiet while I think.”
“I just heard the toilet flush,
But I didn’t hear the sink!”
“You can’t wear that, it’s dirty.”
“On backwards are you pants.”
“Please do what I ask of you,
Without a song and dance.”
You sustain the daily rhythm.
And keep the schedule on track.
You strive to keep the house together
And the kids off each other’s back.
Aspirin and a night alone
Are the bonuses you receive,
Though you deserve much more than just
Pharmaceuticals and a brief reprieve.
The work can be quite stressful
And the days off far and few,
But no one does it half as well
Or with the finesse you do.
Although the job pays little,
And with it comes no fame,
No glory or free time for yourself,
You work hard just the same,
You do it for your children
As any parent would,
To help them grow and nurture them
The way you know you should.
While the simple scenes you settle
Will never play a Broadway stage,
The direction you give is vital to
Your children’s coming of age.
As every day you take the field,
For an ovation we should stand.
All hats off to Mom, the ref,
The fairest in the land!
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MSG(P) Michael Warrick
Still I Arise -
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise
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SSG Maurice P.
THAT WAS VERY AWESOME I THINK IT OUGHT TO BE A MOTHERS DAY TRIBUTE TO ALL WOMEN AND MOTHERS...
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"If" by Rudyard Kipling! Out of all the poems in the world, this one is magnificent. I'm not even a man, but I've had this poem memorized for the last 20 years, CPT Ahmed Faried. Awesome!
If you can keep your head
When all about you
Are losing theirs
And blaming it on you...
My second one is Fiddler's Green. I love it.
If you can keep your head
When all about you
Are losing theirs
And blaming it on you...
My second one is Fiddler's Green. I love it.
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