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Birth of death
Birth of death
(Stream of consciousness poetry)
This is a well thinking thought
How to control
A robot
Before inventing,
How do you cherish
The success of poetry
Before composing,
This is a well thinking thought
Of the immortality
To give the meaning
The state of being
As the creator
Can not create
The enemy of
Immortality,
Which He Himself is,
Death
Is the success
Of the game plan
Before the game
Was invented
But loophole lies
The immortality
Does not have life.
What's the pleasure
Of being an entity
Of immortality
Without taste
Of life and death!
(He Himself knows)
poem by Abdul Wahab

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A graceful and honorable old age is the childhood of immortality.

Poems On Life
Life is given to us,
we earn it by giving it.
Let the dead have the immortality of fame,
but the living the immortality of love.
Life's errors cry for the merciful beauty
that can modulate their isolation into a
harmony with the whole.
Life, like a child, laughs,
shaking its rattle of death as it runs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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My Childhood Garden
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden
poem by Danielle Eager

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I look through my childhood
I look through my childhood as if I were there,
but yet remain in this grown up body, which in life is not fair,
I have forgotten the good times in my past,
I can't believe that my childhood moved on very fast,
I thought it would last, and last forever,
but I was wrong, it did not last, it never.
but all happens for the best,
so that I could grow up to be a man and experience life
which comes in han 'd'.
I look through my childhood.
poem by Savio Vogt

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To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
William Wordsworth in Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood, 1803

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood Memories Sung to the Tune of Shawnee West Franklin Bison Blues
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
Mine is sere
Throughout the year
Nothing grows here
Some people have a childhood rainbow
A sea of colors all aglow
Some people have a childhood rainbow
Red to violet in a row
Mine is gray
Bow of clay
Without a ray
Some people have a childhood temple
Covered with a million treasured dreams
Some people have a childhood temple
A sunny Wat of Gods and kings
Mine is plain
Squats in the rain
Functional 'n sane
Where childhood memories abound
Life flows vividly around
Where childhood memories have fled
Hearts lie dead
When My Childhood Dies
You see it in the my eyes,
The walls are built up on me.
Delightness will replaced my guiltiness,
When my childhood dies.
Afraid to show surprising face because of my shame of be young and dumb.
It's best to hold your tongue,
When my childhood dies.
Uniqueness deemed unwisely on
One’s life must it fit in.
And wear a different skin,
When my childhood dies.
Behind adult disguise,
A too tight gown.
All naturalness shut down,
When my childhood dies.
You see it in the eyes,
At nine or eight.
Before, if that's their fate,
When my childhood dies soon.
poem by Evevona Plummer

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In My Dream, light plays!
Night is the time,
Sleeping in infinite nothing,
becoming nothing in beloved
embrace,
forgetting everything! In the lap of beloved enjoy
dreams,
may some come true,
Some may not,
Observing dreams one sees the
light within,
Randomly light plays in my dream
At the dawn, with gentle breeze,
Dreams melt, innerlight into light
of world,
Never go back to sleep,
If you sleep at dawn,
What will be there at dusk? If dustfree dawn make you sleep,
Failing to Smile and work,
If can't feel lighter in the light of
dawn,
Sure the darkness covering light,
Will make you faint at dusk!
Seeds says seed of immortality
is packed in mortal seed coat!
DNA sings, its immortality
covered in mortality of seed,
Finally Life sings,
Immortality of life is packed in mortal DNA,
and Self whispers, my
immortality is sung by mortal
life!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Something at the back of your mind.
If I had done something wonderful in my life
Or left a book with my name in print
Would that be my immortality?
Or is immortality a done deal
If you believe in Christ
Then where are the rules?
Kindness, love and an attitude
That would please Christ
Surely that is the answer?
Man interferes and proposes
A complete turn
Even if there has been murder
Theft or a lapse in the ten
Commandments
Be born again
What is that?
In my life I have learnt
And seen people savaged
By corruption and fear
In the next life will
All of us be there?
Good or bad?
The holocaust survivor
And the men that sent
Thousands to their death?
It is the eternal question.
poem by Willow Moon Pearce

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Len Webster's 'Childhood Is...
Childhood Is
when the world to come
is an adventure to be met
Childhood Is
running and hiding
peeking around blind corners
hoping you have been followed
Childhood Is
ducking and diving
dreaming of being in the best
football team in the world
and scoring the winning goal
in the Cup FInal
Childhood Is
being the perfect person
(or not being caught out
when you're not being
the perfect person)
Childhood Is
a mass of contradictions
you don't want to unravel
Childhood Is
a nice cosy bed,
clean sheets
and Mummy's kisses
poem by Len Webster

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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood,
Miss my mommy’s lap,
The lullabies that my grandpa sung,
The breakfast my granny prepared for me.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the brother-sister fights,
The way the small secrets we kept,
The days we dreamt of becoming someone big.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the friends’, who were never mean,
The teacher so caring,
The playground where we played for hours’.
I miss my childhood,
Miss my dad’s arms which did hold me and wrapped me throughout,
The chocolates he bought so frequently,
The wonder rides he took me to.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the tree where I sat for hours,
The teddy which was my life,
And the way you consoled me dad whenever I cried….
@copyrights reserved with Author.
poem by Jinal Oswal

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Childhood Is...
Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup
poem by Shenika Vermaak

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Immortality is not a gift, Immortality is an achievement; And only those who strive mightily Shall possess it.
quote by Edgar Lee Masters

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In childhood we live under the brightness of immortality — heaven is as near and actual as seaside. Behind the complicated details of the world stand the simplicities: God is good, the grown-up man or woman knows the answer to every question, there is such a thing as truth, and justice is as measured and faultless as a clock. Our heroes are simple: they are brave, they tell the truth, they are good swordsmen and they are never in the long run really defeated. That is why no later books satisfy us like those which were read to us in childhood — for those promised a world of great simplicity of which we knew the rules, but the later books are complicated and contradictory with experience; they are formed out of our own disappointing memories…
quote by Graham Greene

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Innocence Matter: Restoration Perfection
Innocence is the question?
Innocence is the X factor?
Innocence is life mortality?
Innocence is sinless state immortality?
Innocence is physical perfection?
Innocence is purity soul divinity?
Innocence is state of grace harmony?
Innocence is Trinity creation link eternity?
Innocence is life breath immortality?
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Childhood is calling
Come on people move
For childhood is calling
time to get up and groove
there is no time for stalling
Enjoy the warm sunny day
and chase all of your blues away
this is a day that is so enthralling
listen, as your childhood is calling
old men sit and are soon recalling
and slowly as their hair is graying
they hear the siren song of youth playing
saying that their childhood is calling
the time is slipping away so quickly,
so run fast and catch the dying sun
for childhood is calling
and your life has just begun
JPM 1/4/2008 - 1/11/2008
Childhood Dreams
Sunlight peeps thru closed curtains
like a sleepy child, nodding in - out
yet you sleep. the wave of pre-dawn
passion, renaming lost childhood dreams
I often wonder about some childhood friend,
how at the time we were pardners, for life
what has become of him? is he sitting
somewhere with a cup of coffee?
I touch your skin, to gently introduce you
to a new day, and you with a smile, say
'I was just dreaming about you' thus
leaving my thoughts of childhood friends
poem by Joe Howell

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The Village Atheist
Ye young debaters over the doctrine
Of the soul's immortality
I who lie here was the village atheist,
Talkative, contentious, versed in the arguments
Of the infidels.
But through a long sickness
Coughing myself to death
I read the Upanishads and the poetry of Jesus.
And they lighted a torch of hope and intuition
And desire which the Shadow,
Leading me swiftly through the caverns of darkness,
Could not extinguish.
Listen to me, ye who live in the senses
And think through the senses only:
Immortality is not a gift,
Immortality is an achievement;
And only those who strive mightily
Shall possess it.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters

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