"childrens" poems
Amanda was a Panda
She was a lovely lass,
Although she had two big black eyes,
She retained an air of class.
She ambled into the Bamboo Bar
To have lunch with Panda Pete one day,
And he looked into her eyes
And to her he did say.
"Oh Amanda with your big black eyes
Will you please be forever mine,
And promise that you will never
Let your panda arms entwine,
Any other bloke panda
In this bamboo land,
Please oh please Amanda,
You've got to understand
For me there is no other
You're the only girl for me,
You remind me of my mother,
And so we're meant to be,
Together as a couple we'll be
With our four eyes of black,
Oh darling please look at me
Why have you turned your back?"
She answered very clearly
She said "because Pete I'd rather,
Find another Panda really,
To be my childrens father."
Now Panda Pete was really sad
He felt total and utter rejection,
So he sloped off before he got mad,
To a future of dejection.
He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,.
Back into the forest outside
And jumped into his panda car
And took off for a long lonesome ride.
Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
my love sings as the nightingale sings
as all birds sing my love hides
behind all gifted songs of Earth
psalm and childrens laughter
the sound of rhythmic hammers
mankind at work with wood and metal
hearts full of life and love and singing
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Hellenic days of poetry,
From a land of myth,
In legend dwelled the child of Zeus,
Head of the gods,
Zeus created ******* child in tryst with mortal chick,
Alcemene was the name,
Hera, wife of Zeus got angry at his infidelity,
Alcemene expected two, twin boys were on the way,
One baby conceived of Zeus the other was a mortal's son,
Hera had a consultation with Lithia, goddess of childbirth,
Hera twisted Lithia to prevent the childrens birth,
Alcemene's legs were cross locked to stop the birth ocuring,
Zeus declared in oath, child of house of Perseus born that night,
To become High King in place of heracless,.
Hera made Eurytheus, arrive too soon in premature immaturity,
Athena, half -sister of Heracles,
Protector of Gods, tricked Hera into nursing child,
Known as Alcides,
Real name Heracles,
Hera nursed him out of pity,
Heracles gave Hera pain on suckling,
Milk sprayed the heavens,
Hence there created, The Milky Way.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
by Nanao Sakaki
If you have time to chatter
Read books
If you have time to read
Walk into mountain desert and ocean
If you have time to walk
Sing songs and dance
If you have time to dance
Sit quietly, you lucky happy idiot.
Nanao Sakaki
Japan
From Can I Buy a Slice of Sky
Edited by Grace Nichols
Published by Hodder Childrens Books 1996
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
FORGET THE FAIRYTALES
Leafes believe the fairytales of the wind
And blows away
Remember to forget the fairytales
Waves believe the fairytales of the land
And loose the sea
Remember to forget the fairytales
Fairies believe the fairytales of the moon
And loose their winds
Remember to forget the fairytales
Desert believe the fairytales of the
shadow and become illusion
Remember to forget the fairytales
Sky believe the fairytales of the earth
And loose the sun
Remember to forget the fairytales
Books believe the fairytales of the truth
And loose their language
Remember to forget the fairytales
Childrens believe the fairytales of the
adults and loose their childhood
Remember to forget the fairytales.
CHRISTOS HARATSARIS
POET
ATHENS-GREECE
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
Polka Dot, Polka Dot, a one pony show
Strange name for a child, but she loves it so
Cheerful wee girl with sweet smile aglow
Adores all round shapes, expects you to know
Her twenty one garments sport assorted dots
Basic eight pairs of footwear, orange and green spots
Gaudy bows for her hair, with colored rings, lots
Dot sees spheres imbedded in her eyes and thoughts
Blankets and curtains, guess what, dots and lace
The spotted mouse toy for the cat to chase
Walls with orbs and specks on all space
In the right light they reflect on your face
Dot's off to school with a polka dot hat
Coat, umbrella with circles, imagine that
Polka dotted notebooks, pencils and backpack
Rides pink spotted two wheeler, parks in bike rack
Poor Polka Dot started feeling sickly ill
Sent to school nurse where she refused a pill
Saw the Doc, calamine lotion and advice to chill
Spots! Chickenpox! Polka Dots notable thrill
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 3:07 PM UTC
you took away my childhood, for what?
wanting to get a fix, is that it mom?
open your door, you tell me keep it shut.
i wanted your love, not a ticking bomb.
i had to suffer because you were an addict,
raised by my sister until i was twelve.
no matter what, there was always conflict.
but look mom, you're holding the helve.
your childrens lives were in your hands.
for our father was gone and you loved your pills,
i cant tell anyone about it because no one understands
that our own mother couldnt even pay our bills.
so tell me mom, was it worth it?
your children hate you and you're alone.
were the pills and other drugs worth our childhood
and your happiness?
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Here I was, wonder how to get to work?
When a blessing came my way.
From out of nowhere I was blessed.
I learn, we should always be a blessing to another.
There I was at a service station.
Then someone asked for assistance.
Without thinking.
Which I should have.
I became a blessing to another.
God lead us.
God guide us with saftey and confidence.
To be a blessing to another.
Some of us have gave our last dime.
When we was hurting.
We could have stayed selfish.
Or offer our own reason's to why not?
But for some reason we reached out.
To be a blessing to another.
Childrens do it.
Adults do it.
Unselfish churches does it.
We all is a blessing to another.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:37 PM UTC
i love that sound
a wind walks by and stirs the trees
that rushing breathing sound
the leaves make as the branches are swayed in the wind
i love the many voices of daylight
a lawnmower and childrens laughter
birds chattering
a small plane boiling overhead
pulling a sign for some event
i love the sound of summer
i love its taste
ice cold soda when your sitting on hot pavement
the texture of a overcooked hotdog at a ballpark
i love the taste of
your lips while you are sunbathing
sweat and sunscreen are an ****** mix
i love how summer tastes to my mind
it feels young
it tastes free
i reach up with incredible grace
****** the contrail from that jetliner far overhead
and tie it into a ribbon for your hair
there you go my lovely
you are a young french princess of the world
i love your taste most of all
you taste like love to me
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
Oh! Mamma hear me
please.. I'm the one
crying from your womb;
longing to see you..
I'm so excited to
see you next week.
I'm the one who need
your love and care..
I heard your sweet voice
I felt your touch. I enjoyed
your stories and poems and
all those fairy tales
I love to hear your songs
You are a good singer..
You gave me the things that
I need for my growth..
I know everyone outside
is excited to know
whether I'm a baby boy
or a baby girl...
I'm pleading you to give
me enough care I need
Gender is not the fact...
Thank to the Lord for
giving you a healthy child..
Childrens are the gift of God ,
if you deny that precious
gift, God will not forgive
to your deeds.
Oh! Mamma you are my
angel in this unknown
world.. Care me.. Love me...
You are my warmth and shelter
Yours lovingly..
Your baby child..
From your womb.......
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
There are at least ten reasons why you are beautiful hidden in the seconds when you are awake and I am asleep.
Something really precious brought us together once or twice, I don’t know what it is, but I’m not gonna ask. … … …
I don’t know what I’m supposed to say when you say everything I feel.
There are at least ten universes worth of beautiful individuality in plain sight, in a hummingbirds flight path from one flower to another.
Here are the rhymes that reason:
You grew up faster than you knew, and you realized that a long time after everyone knew what it felt like to be grown up.
You were given something that not many people have so very early, it shaped you, and you were not sure after that, if it was the world that changed you or vice versa.
My fingers feel separate from my hands to write this. My voice, coming from somewhere else.
You really really really really really really really trust in love to make the right decision, and are terrified to make decisions without that input.
Love can happen with anyone anywhere at any time…but sometimes it only happens once at a time. The less scared you are of it, the easier it is to see in yourself.
Here are the reasons that rhyme:
Everyone changes with seasons
Everyone changes with time
As everyone changes around you
You feel like a stone in a fire
With no arms or legs to hold on with or run
And having done nothing, you’re feeling jaded, and so very tired.
And I believe you can make it on your own (with a little help from the angel on your devil’s shoulder, turning hell into just high water, spilling over a little too much chaos into your day, making your nights a little bit shorter)
And I can see you when you are who you used to be, in a simpler time.
Perception is hard to live with when its constantly being pushed at by people who have agreed to act enlightened because they’re scared of the difference and diversity they face every day they decide to go outside their lonely bedrooms.
Is that what its like to hate the world for giving you a choice?
Find me.
I want to be together with you like a hummingbird and a flower, the factor of time excluded. A moment could be forever, or not. If for just the happening we could live…we could be anything…whether or not we’re tired, or ***** or used, or unaccomplished. Time doesn’t have to shape us if we can shape each other. Like ghosts in books in childrens’ minds, or a hummingbird and a flower, breathing life in deep breaths, together as one.
We could be like one reason
One reason why…
Why ten is just a number
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 9:53 PM UTC
Little feet
on mounds of earth
Lots of stamping
childrens' mirth
Jumping mole hills
wellies high
How fast these precious times go by
Little voice from mum (disguised)
wonderment shines in widening eyes
believing the poor jangled mole had said
"Stop Stamping On My Head!"
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 8:52 AM UTC
The willingness to speak objective truths!
Born out of the prejudice in experience.
He is no god, but a man who speaks to you.
The people, who are proud to be Americans.
He is our ruler, in Trump we trust.
The abused, the lied to and put in harms way.
The dead homosexuals and Christians.
The ministry of truth, the CNN.
The white lynching at the protests.
And the weak Clintonites are abandoning ship!
Had she won, we would stay and endure.
They run, we stayed under Obama.
The dead are finally leaving.
Lets see if Trudeau can treat them better.
He is hard spoken, harsh and a man of the people.
Build the wall! More like fix the wall.
Deport the illegals, they are not Americans.
Stop the muslims who are killing my people.
This is not out of hate, but love. My love for truth and happiness.
Maybe now we can have a country that values both.
Not a lying ***** who silences **** victims.
Oh, give me strength!
Strength! To save our childrens schools!
Strength! To save our children from hate!
Love! to bring love, not resentment for humanity!
O, give me truth. The truth that humanity is not horrible.
That my whiteness is not a feature to describe me.
That my heterosexuality is not a privilege.
That I find my own life, not the lives of the pacific.
Give us, to trust our country to a man who has raised successful children.
Let him be our role model, not that which seeks to lecture me on sexism.
God political poems are trash. Just like your hatred. Let it go, only admonish the actions.
It's current year.
**** Obama for campaigning for his replacement.
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
No body knows me
let the grey be all
they see.
Let only I
and the owl alone
catch that scent
of death in the air.
From across the
blazing asphalt
I watch children
chase balloons
across manicured lawns.
I stand like a
ghost and will the
balloons to float
just out of
reach of a
double braided
little girl.
As the wind catches
the childrens losses
the faintest
of smiles
flashes across
my face.
As I look
up and catch
4 more losses
that have now
been forever
taken by
the winds
of my memory.
A message I
send to one of
my only friends.
Let it reach
him or her
before I change
my mind again.
I've opened up
and presented to
them nothing.
No body knows
me,
let the poppies
blood cleanse me.
The pain I produce
is not infectious.
It's private,
it slowly tortures me.
Like the stammer
and those
years,
it destroys me.
I count four colors
forever taken
by the wind.
And 3 children
who's
teary eyes
and scornful
stares are now
fixed on me.
I look to
the heavens and
smile toward their
loss.
Let those floating
colors be their
only hurt.
Let them never
know my smile,
Shield them
from the
Dragon.
I'm numb enough,
I can take it,
Let them be
and lay all that you
got right here.
Right over here.
Right all over
me.
Lay it on me,
your payments
I've recieved
before.
And yet somehow
I find myself still
indebt to you.
Let them grow
old and wonder.
Let them wonder
before
they began to
forget.
Let them join all
the rest.
Let them
become
enemies
of my sorrow.
Let them quietly
fall into their
existence.
Let them Be.
You've already
taken all that
was left
of me.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
9th month
September2013:
blue skys
warm air
at night it would go cold
the autumn leaves slowly started to fall
still rained from the summer
and the cold wind
started to chill us to the bone
On the first week
i walked to my friends house
with Zoe and her french exchange student Elise on my side,
we waked into Zoes house and sat in the kitchen
Elise had an apple with peanut butter
Me and Zoe Had Soup
We walked after to a little River bank,
Elise sat on the rocks
i skipped flat rocks like Amelie Poulain
Zoe took picutres of the river.
We found a ripped dollar bill with a phone number written on it
Zoe texted it, no answer
it rained later that evening
i reasted on my bed and thought about the day
with a smile
i Biked to my favorite field
one evening...
recited a poem i made up in my head
the one line that i repeted was
" Will the love of Fall and Winter choose me this year?"
a week later a girl named Kirsten walked into my life
with a smile and wave, i wanted to meet her
we talked one day and planned to go to my favorite field
on a Friday..Friday the 13th..not so unlucky
though i cut myself shaving
i went to go meet her that friday
i walked down the stairs
there she was at the bottom of the stair case
"What will become of us?"i thought
She facing the other way,
i wondered if we would become friends
I tapped her on the shoulder
turned around with a surpised look
then she gave me a warm smile
We went to the field
sat in a childrens park
Then sat in the grass that melted in the sun
i showed her a leaf that looked like a heart
..i kept it under my hat...
i walked her home, she lived close by
i gave her a hug and left with a smile on my face
Got home and put the heart leaf on my wall
We became friends
Talked everyday
i would walk her home
and meet her in the field
as i came in riding my bike
She kissed me before i left...
I started to fancy her
she to started fancy me
I asked if she would be mine
she told me wait
i said " i will!"
Nights came
when we walked around looking the stars and looking at the city lights
laying the grass and runnning around
we were happy
The night was ours
She kissed me goodnight
i went home
fell upon my flower my bed
and dreamed of her...
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
The smile that she bore when he had opened his eyes the first tym in his life,
The way, care she took, understood each word of his silence then.
The hug she gave whenever he felt something creepy flowing through insides.
It was all okay till he knew that she had more hidden in,
somewhere she didnt care, and the roots of the house were broken,
In addition to the adamant over reacting when it comes to cleanliness.
The temper out of control for small reasons, he couldnt stand.
But what would a baby do when its mind comes to be in a fist,
It could do nothing but to live with fate this tryst.
but then he saw what she had done really did have the care.
She wanted him to grow the way she wanted to avoid facing the problems, she did.
But when she saw that he wants a different life,
She let go her wish and gave him a path to his chosen destiny.
Some negatives were in her but couldnt, only that much for her, he bear..??
All these punishments were, even if more than required, wid the good intentions,
And the roots werent broken, but had become hard instead,
His sight was, at first, a bit broken.
Her past wid the family people which she hid from him not letting him to bear the hurt that she took keeping mum,
And being strong to raise him as a man, to bring her repect back, that he would now do by hook or crook.
He's so sorry cause for understanding her, he's so late.
He wishes if she's not angry on him, would she open the gates.?
She then shows him a fact that the gates are always open in a god's heart.
Love she always did but his misunderstanding filled eye's couldnt see.
And the love he had lost to be taken from childhood,
Now while learning to take it, he's becoming a man the way she thinks he should,
Cause she will never guide him wrong he knows,
God couldnt be everywhere to show the way to his childrens,
So a mother is in place of him. The right path to solutions for the problems, she shows..!
Love you Mom.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
☆
*"Our sweet children, where have you been?
We're waiting for you outward the ingress,
Admitting : you nowhere were seen
As you are: each — an enraptured princess!"
☆
Vivacious shades on your ethno coat
Emphasise your femininity;
Bastet at heart — best childrens lifeboat!
Spacey gray cap: fairish and witty —
☆
It suits you — dear darling — shared hugs
Of wellcome! Lively, charming's your gaze
As young Notre~Dame; and blue scarabs
Are lit on your kind fortunate face.
☆
The theatre lady, the dreamer,
The writer, the thinker, you're teacher,
Performer, a woman, protector
Creator, great mother, old friend!*
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
it's an old tale around town
that if you pierce the ground
with a needle just right
all the spirits will escape
no one really believes it
but the lore's dramatic flare gives a sense of community
at the bus stop stand
twelve children with clay faces
day and night they stare straight ahead
and mumble the same word
over and over
Time passes by,
back bent and wretched
the dead grace of fallen kings
and eventually
the clay breaks,
the heads roll
a visiting CEO
stands to make a speech
but finds an emptiness
clawing at her throat
the clay breaks,
the silent tears
of the heart of a brooding teen
end their tenancy
and return to the ocean
a nightshift manager
swipes their card, closes the barbed gates,
fumbles rolling a cigarette
and draws in a sigh,
but the breath refuses to escape
the clay breaks,
a bluebird sings
but cannot recall the melody
petals clog the gutter
but the branches have long withered
people meet up and gather
to try to quell the empty pressure
they stand to chant the childrens' lost word
but everyone remembers it differently
time passes
routine remains
but there are waves in the waterways
and sometimes people on the surface streets
find themselves lost in the tide
time passes,
the dirt city convulses
under its silent weight
we gather a needle
and pierce the ground,
but nothing happens
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
Fairground cherry trees,
Childrens' pink balloons popping,
. . . Windy petals burst.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
On Christnas' the childrens of the world will be opening toys.
While we'll be enjoying each other.
Sharing Christmas love.
You'll be my gift.
And I'll be yours.
Who needs anything else?
When we can be one another toy.
I can be jolly.
You can be joy.
As, we sharing Christmas love.
Bells will be ringing.
If we're the only one to hear them.
Angels will be singing.
If privately we are the one listening.
While we sharing Christmas love.
Candles burning.
Lights are radiant.
As shadows of us bounce off the wall.
We just know, we sharing our love on Christmas.
Santa doesn't have to come.
He will only interrupt us.
While we enjoying creating great fun.
So, stay away Kris Kringle.
You'll be putting wrinkles in our plans.
This is the night for a man and his woman.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 9:38 PM UTC
Where is the terror please in a blameless mind
Show me the pain and fears in a brimful loving heart
Find me the nightmares 'n demons in blessed slumber
Wish me the tears in pious gratitudes real and plenty
Produce a charge sheet of dark deeds and secrets hidden
Bring witnesses of a stained criminal past and stolen items
Front me a past lover with tales of **** or ****** misdeeds
Show me anybody truly implicating me in any foul deeds
Ask my betrothed of ever knowing me drunk and disabled
Dig out any associations of me with friends of ill-repute
Point a day I conducted myself disgracefully 'n disrespectfully
Stand out a neighbour I went begging and borrowing from
Twirling taunting is nowt but delusions of ****** fantasists
Nothing to do with one devoid of fears and guilt of the neurotics
Show us the happy contented one who gives time to mudslinging
Even the most basic of intelligence tells us this is an impossibility
There are nasties out there kicking a poor policewoman in the head
There are repugnant foreign Taxi-drivers prostituting teen girls about
There are hate filled Terrorist willing to **** innocents unflinching
While our deranged think school playground antics is all they're worth
These are the ones that salivate in front of computer screens
Unwashed Keyboard cowards parading malfunctioning brains
Attention and ambition lacking deficits sad subhumans waiting to be fed
How can wasted western fodders impact on my consciousness or even my subconscious
Those by their evident actions already show they lack rationality, intelligence or understanding
Inadequates whose only recourse is to showcase their inferiority in pained envy and jealousy by trying to bully
Insignificant runts who can't better themselves despite opportunities abound
Dr Livingstone come see what your children from your Great Empire has become
You told our forefathers you came from the very cradle of Civilisation
A land of freedom and great knowledge
How come now your childrens are pathetic ignorant irrational insecure deluded cowards
What to do with morons other than to pitifully toss them a morsel of our talents once a while and laugh as they feed hungrily
You gotta laugh!
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
What makes me your enemy
is it the colour of my skin
the clothing of my people
or just the country I live in?
You do not even know me
don't know what I believe
but you revel in my childrens death
without leaving me to grieve
You came to liberate us
but you cant call this free
we get stopped and searched at roadblocks
by soldiers for your country
I understand you are scared
citizens of new Rome
but that does not, give you the right
to invade anothers home.
Especially as your reasoning
was a fabric made of lies
is it really any wonder
you're the ones we now despise?
You and I are different,
you have gotten that much right.
You have a democratic system
you can use to stop this fight.
You can call upon your government
citizens of new Rome
to end this forced invasion
and bring your soldiers home.
For although we are quite different
in how we look and how we speak
Neither of us want to die
there's common ground we seek
We share a common wish
for this war to end and cease
So we can raise our children
to live a dream of peace
May 9, 2010
May 9, 2010 at 8:33 AM UTC
I heard the voice of the world,
The color of the ocean I saw by my heart,
The sky very surprise but beautiful,
Life is guilty but its true meaning.
O smile! You stay always on my lips,
Sadness to make happiness and peaceful life,
As the sun, give the light in my journey,
O song! Come on sweetly my mouth.
You order to keep in mind and heart,
Birth I grow up with feet,
Think all the country to travel,
I dream like the river and hope.
O rhythm! My birth is for you,
Soft in your heart beautiful flowers bloom,
Happily flows rivers and wind,
O sun! You give light every my days,
I write a poem to my cutie,
And sing the songs for all mates,
I write the story to my world,
And to live for the childrens.
Like the clouds of heaven and sky,
I hope to see the world,
We born alone, we all die alone,
But I will die like the river.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
An army
in flower-print
dresses
resides in our backyard
on a guilty clothesline.
Their bloated bodies
float in the water
of the wind.
In our tiny gestures, we tell potential buyers
that we had two beautiful daughters
who left their clothes everywhere,
and we have finally killed
them.
In small voices
they sing for justice
on the clothesline.
But the dresses
are our own childishness,
and not our fake childrens'.
And we tell our buyers these things,
because we want to leave this place,
but on our own terms.
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
.
Collecting the years like a lazy butterfly
caught in the mouth of a lost time infested net.
Columbian Crush!
Where it never rains love nor money. ***** clothes,
***** hands, and
***** minds fill man's hole. Singing shotgun,
bottom feeder's cameras sling the dirt
and shoot the moon.
Wild childrens' vines still swing.
Will anyone here be voting next Thursday?
Remind me why time was killed,
so brutally gunned down in broad daylight.
He apologises as he secretly scratches her name
from his little black book.
Bartender,
another shot of Columbian Crush
on the rocks...
Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 9:18 PM UTC