#childs
When you first heard Aretha sing, did you know just what she meant?
Or did you ponder the words, in your mouth.
Cloying.
Stuck to your tongue with cement.
R. E. S. P. E. C. T.
I've got no idea what it means to me.
Jan 3, 2023
Jan 3, 2023 at 5:36 PM UTC
Radio news bulletin in the car
the last item read in those mellifluous tones
is about a seven-year-old boy
struck and killed by a car
in a poor suburb of Wellington.
The protocol around the legal and privacy issues
means it’s “no name, no pack drill”,
but he was someone,
someone’s son, grandson
perhaps even great-grandson.
He had probably had siblings,
definitely friends and playmates.
Somewhere in a house with
inadequate winter heating,
where the household income is
constantly under siege
and life never rises above a struggle,
there is a mother and a father
who bear this greatest grief.
Andrew M. Bell
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 12:48 AM UTC
Thoughts of a Child During the Outbreak of Covid-19
Ujjal Mandal, Ganguria, India, July 08, 2020
I was a flying kite
Full of indomitable might.
Like a roe was my mind
Bounded over but quite kind.
I was a tiny butterfly
I entered into the bud like a spy.
Today the kite is on a broken string.
Mind is a hideous animal.
Today I am a BLACK HORNET.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 12:28 AM UTC
a toddler's summer of the wondrous....falling asleep in
fireflies' glow
Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
The loss of your father,
no matter how old you are,
changes your life forever.
Your dad is your protector
who keeps you safe and secure.
You never really get over the loss.
You learn to live with the loss,
and he is never far from your thoughts.
There is an indescribable amount
of grief after losing a father.
Losing a father often means
losing a protector,
a guiding hand,
a best friend,
and a superhero.
But focusing on all
the incredible memories
you shared and the amazing man
he was can help bring light into your darker days.
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 2:34 AM UTC
Moved around a lot
-Cockle-jocked kid
plastic with newness
Trailers dusty
roses blousy with thorns and white
pecked leaves mottled.
Resist these yards’ allure
avoid the
crackers’ friendly waves
Pedal to the Haven
piles of fill, construction
reduced tombs of left over
concrete
bricks mounds of playtimes
trenches in which to ****
off.
Trenches in which
mosquito larvae swim
skeezle-legged and
willow branches are
whips
pieces of drywall
soaked grenades and
wooden
are the guns.
Summer haircut flat nest of
stubble
face and scalp burnt. Enough
pieces of bikes to Frankenstein
one fine ride.
From the top of the hill
mawed youth
rumbles down to barrel
roll crescendo’d
stops. Let the
good
times.
Close out the day draw its
petty dread adrenalined
Panting cuz you are
late and he said
six.
Sectioned eight
pink stucco flakes and
sweetened lead.
Tatty shades
shriven.
He’s a tar cracked heel
small white dot
white
blink
blot
thinks about a
lot, these yards
landscapes drifted, curled with
feet to face, conserve his
heat.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
Have I captured your soul?
Your tone sepia as if nostalgic
A memory a place held in my heart
Can I hold your words a little closer
They feed me in the dark dreary night
Sometimes your words are as colourful as a child's painting
There's no faking sincerity
Your words cast a rainbow over me.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC
Sorrows of the world.
A child that cries, an angel that fall.
A child that starves, a thousand of stars fall.
A child that is sad, a human heart stop.
And for a child, this heart will stop.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 4:32 AM UTC
I have been waiting
for her to pick me off the shelf
To remember me as fondly
as I dream of her nightly
Wanting nothing more than to be
used like her favorite toy
The one she played with as a child
when holding each other came simple
For her to lay me next to her heart
during the dim nights under gods shadow
Giving up on the complexities
of the never ending day before us
While engulfing each other in stories
of an emotion we remembered as love
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC