Poems for My Sons

Tag: Love

  • 14 March 2026, 6.06PM

    Sometimes we’re the only kids in the playground.

    The only sound, your laughter
    or when you call out
    to show me some new feat you’ve achieved

    Or maybe something you believed you couldn’t do
    but learned because I urged you to
    try and to struggle through
    And then I’m just left in awe of you.

    Early morning the other day
    We were both out for a play
    You’d stumbled and scraped your elbow
    You got upset
    Called for dad
    Wanting me to know
    that you were hurt and wanted a cuddle

    So we got into a huddle.

    The only kids in the playground.

    No distraction.
    Full attention.

    A warmth, so profound.

    Man, I love being the only kids in the playground.

  • 15 February 2026, 6.43AM

    If you ever feel lost
    Go to the ocean in the early hours of the morning
    Watch the colours change in the sky
    The light, washing away the night
    Listen to the waves crashing on the sand
    Remember the kisses I have laid on your hands


  • 6 March 2026, 7.15PM

    Maybe I’m an idealist 
    Call me a hypocrite
    But I hate 
    that hate exists

    Growing up,
    my best friends in school
    were from all different parts of the map
    Some adults can really be fools
    They should learn from children 
    who don’t give a crap

    About creating divisions and causing dissent
    Manipulating meanings 
    of what things truly represent
    The misguided don’t care about the collateral damage
    They lash out and loathe in fits of rage 

    It’s insanity
    Inanity
    Total inhumanity

    This evening in the park there was a celebration of Holi
    Gulal throwing with other families
    of different cultures and ethnicities 
    Celebrating good over evil’s victory
    A love and forgiveness festivity

    I sat as the sun set, thinking quietly
    This is the way things should really be.

  • 3 March 2026, 5.22PM

    Ye Ye was a dad during a different time
    Things not done now were back then fine
    I remember having to pick which cane
    (or sometimes it was just the belt)
    I can’t remember the pain
    Though I can still feel my finger caressing the welts

    It was a different form of discipline
    Not much room for bargaining
    When he was tempered he had a thunderous voice
    His own way to show love for his boys

    Ye Ye’s mission was just for us to be good
    Have a home, a good job, and not lack for food
    Although we may not have done all that he wished
    He was content in the end

    Dad,
    Mission accomplished.

  • 12 February 2026, 7.15AM

    Laughter is the best medicine
    I know now,
    I’ve heard yours!