You white people are so strange. We think it is very primitive for a child to have only two parents.
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Primitive Love
Primitive love
I want what it used to be, primitive love
No modern love, its all a hustle
Whats done is done, now its my turn to have some fun
Youre much to sly, dont give me alibis
I dont want to know, I dont want to know
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primtive love
You dont have to worry , I dont want your money
I dont have to think, right now youve got me at the brink
This is good-bye for all the times I cried
Dont want no more, dont want no more
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primitive love
Is it right, or is it wrong?
Primitive drums call me backward into stone
Pack up and leave, Im not yours to deceive
Dont want you no more, dont want you no more
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primtive love
song performed by by Gloria Estefan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons

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Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes

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The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive medicine.
quote by Stephen Leacock

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Pea
Oh my sweet pea,
The white child doesn't know the black child;
Oh my sweet pea,
The white child doesn't know the coloured child;
But the black child is aware of the coloured and the white!
And this poem is to bring forth the message of love to all amnkind,
Because we were all made by the Creator!
Just as it is written,
So is the seed of the Medes;
And like Sodom and Gomorrah!
For i saw people queuing for pig meat and,
Like the sins of our past.
Of the people and by the people,
Read your Bible and pray everyday;
For many are still not ready to learn.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Primitive
Primitive feeling, primitive way
Getting closer to the primitive day
Intuition wherever it goes
The primitive day, the primitive way
Primitive feeling, primitive way
Getting closer to the primitive day
Follow the feeling wherever it goes
The primitive day, the primitive way
song performed by by Helmet

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today is primitive of tomorrow
‘How primitive I was! ’,
It was my grandfather’s woe
When I was young.
How primitive I am!
It is my woe to my grandson.
Yesterday is primitive
02.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Primitive
My heart keeps beating me to death
I see you move and I can't catch my breath
I want to touch you with my lips
I want to touch you with a kiss
My heart keeps pounding like a fist
I see you there and I just can't resist
You make me tremble like this
You make me tremble like a jellyfish
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me feel
Primitive
When you lock me in your arms
You chain me to your heart
...Oh
I hear you calling out my name
And when you talk your words they numb my brain
You make this fire in me start
I want to touch you with my heart
I hear you whisper in the dark
And when you touch me I just come apart
I feel the fever in your hands
We feel things we don't even understand
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me feel
Primitive
When you lock me in your arms
You chain me to your heart
...Oh
It's animal
Like the moon pulls at the tide
I'm at your side
The world in which we live
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me real
Primitive
When you lock me in your arms
You chain me to your heart
...Oh
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from A Night To Remember

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXVII: Nickname
Parents name their child with hope, memories or obsession
People around name the child according to behavior, compassion or sentiment
The child name himself for identity, confidence, or ambition
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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The Tears of Masho
She gave her child away
She had AIDS, they say
Her children should have
Parents to care of them
when she by death
should say goodbye to life.
And her dear own child was
sent to adoption
to a far away land, to a land
she had never been before-
A strange paradise
for her child and which
She as mother could not reach
by her bare feet or sandals.
She did not get the
address of the new parents
She could not write
them in her own tongue
She was not even allowed
to see the last glimpse
of her dear own child,
to give her last embrace
and words of goodbye.
And this child, Masho, who
used to be cuddled by her
own dear mother,
cried day and night
in the new land thought to
be a new paradise.
She watered her pillow
with her own tears and longing.
And she could not understand
why she had to leave her
own mother and playmates
in her own village far away
just because her mother
is condemned to die
by AIDS, they say.
_________
Response to the debate of adoption of children in Denmark, to a particular case of the Ethiopian child, Masho. November 27,2012
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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Strange Things Happen
She believes in god
And karma too
Paranormal powers
You know some people do
Got scorpio risin
Uh huh
Tell you whats in your stars
She was down in rio
Turn the heads of state
Got em into makin
This planet a better place
On copacabana
Uh huh
Oh yeah she radiate better go meditate
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Met a pshycic reader
With a crystal ball
Had a vision
Said we could have it all
I caught her gazin
Uh huh
At our destiny cosmically
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange
song performed by by Beach Boys

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Give This Child What She Needs
Give this child what she needs
Love
Give this child what she needs
Shelter
Give this child what she needs
Prayers
Give this child what she needs
Some food and water
Give this child what she needs
Good parents
Give this child what she needs
Good manors
Give this child what she needs
A smoke free home
Give this child what she needs
Peace and happiness
Give this child what she needs
To know God
Give this child what she needs
Your guidance
Give this child what she needs
Clothes
Give this child what she needs
Your support
Give this child what she needs
Some family time
Give this child what she needs
A nice bath every day
Give this child what she needs
Some discipline
Give this child what she needs
A warm bed to sleep on
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony
There was a girl named Abigail
Who was taking a drive
Through the country
With her parents
When she spied a beautiful sad-eyed
Grey and white pony.
And next to it was a sign
That said,
FOR SALE—CHEAP.
“Oh,” said Abigail,
“May I have that pony?
May I please?”
And her parents said,
“No you may not.”
And Abigail said,
“But I MUST have that pony.”
And her parents said,
“Well, you can have a nice butter pecan
Ice cream cone when we get home.”
And Abigail said,
“I don’t want a butter pecan
Ice cream cone,
I WANT THAT PONY—
I MUST HAVE THAT PONY.”
And her parents said,
“Be quiet and stop nagging—
You’re not getting that pony.”
And Abigail began to cry and said,
“If I don’t get that pony I’ll die.”
And her parents said, “You won’t die.
No child ever died yet from not getting a pony.”
And Abigail felt so bad
That when she got home she went to bed,
And she couldn’t eat,
And she couldn’t sleep,
And her heart was broken,
And she DID die—
All because of a pony
That her parents wouldn’t buy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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Every Child!
the faces of...
every child who'll
go to bed hungry tonite...
every child afraid to sleep
for fear of the soldiers,
the bullets, the bombs....
every child abused
by his parents...
every child humiliated
for being different.
every child who's never
known his own father...
every child with no hope
for an education...
every child sleeping
in homeless cars.
every child alone,
lonely, without love.
every child of every broken home,
every child, every color, every country...
staring at me this sleepless night,
tearing at my heart...
all my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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By name
I am called Hasmukh* by name
Exactly to be understood as smiling man and to claim
I feel no shy in explaining self to all
As many friends ask and make frequent calls
Why you are not named crying person?
Some friends jokingly asked for reasons
"No, parents decided it" I used to answer
They were my custodian and after all mentor
There is tradition to name a child with meaningful name
Some times they may be so funny and exactly opposite to claim
Child may be named as chand*(moon) but to be as dark as black
Some people may call him as dark night and cut a simple joke
Some parents may be really poor but keep name as Sukhi*(happy)
In fact they may have no meals to eat and living in misery
Yet it is strange to name every child with good bearing
It is done with all fun fare and without cause of worrying
There is nothing special in name but still stands good
Each person is known by name, position and surely understood
So this tradition, by and large, adds to person's glory
"See person has proved to his name" people may exclaim and attach story
What is left behind when you depart?
Name, statue, palaces or golden cart
Nothing will accompany you at the end
Some memory to be remembered by family and friends
• hasmukh … name…
• Chand ….. Moon
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Color
Children don't see color in a human face.
All that they see is the human race.
Little child of brown
come let's swing around.
Little child of black
let's play piggy-back.
Little child of white
let's go fly a kite.
Little child of yellow
come share my marshmallow.
When you get all grown up,
I hope that you won; t change.
Can you remember all the fun
when our faces were not strange?
Innocence is fleeting.
All too soon it's lost.
Now we notice colors
and look what it has cost.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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The educating of the parents is really the education of the child children tend to live what is unlived in the parents, so it is vital that parents should be aware of their inferior, their dark side, and should press on getting to know themselves.
quote by Laurens Van der Post

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis

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She had called in the debt that parents owe a child for bringing her, unasked, into a strange world. One should never make an offer without knowing full well what will happen if it is accepted.
quote by David Brin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When A Child Is Lost
When a child is lost,
lost to unknown circumstances,
lost to suspicion of persons
with evil intentions,
then to the eyes of the parents
the lights of sun, moon and stars
have ceased to shine,
the blooming flowers in October
lose their fragrance,
and food doesn't taste
in the tongue.
When a child is lost,
then parents who plea
for their child's return
move us to tears
because children are not
goods to be stolen
but priceless treasure
to be cared for.
When the child is lost,
we share the universal pain
of losing our beloved.
Let us pray that the human goodness
in the heart of the person
who stole the child prevail
and that the lost child
be found.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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