We seem but to linger in manhood to tell the dreams of our childhood, and they vanish out of memory ere we learn the language.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children Of The Heart
Have you ever left?
Your childhood alone
Have you ever let?
Your childhood dreams go
I've never really known
The joys a child should know
I've never really seen
What it's like to just being a child
But in each of us there lies
A child breaking to be free
To learn life's mysteries
In child like dream
To run with friends and family
Free just like a breeze
To play in the fields
Of a childhood memory's
What is it really like?
To be a warrior of old
What is it really like?
To be innocent in ones life
What is it really like?
To be a hero in a child's dream
I sigh and often dream
What it would be like to be free
Free of all your burdens
In a child's innocent world
Of dreams
Can you explain to me?
What the mystery a child hold's
Why do we crave
Our childhood of old
I smile and think often
Deep inside my soul
There will always be a child
Bursting forth to be free
Just wanting to let go
There will always be a child
Wanting all their dreams
To fly into a world of fantasy's
And just being free
Smiling softly to myself
I close my eyes and dream
Of when I was a little girl
Reliving all my dreams
poem by Kaila George
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My Memories
Today will be a memory
yesterday is a memory drifting away
memories turn into tears,
tearing us apart.
Fear of moving on, afraid of change,
in a minute this will just be a memory
memories are all pain in vain
memories are like dreams, a reflection of the past.
Memories are vision of what it used to be.
my memories are sadness and struggle
what are yours?
are they sadness and struggle?
You are but a memory
that dwindles as each day passes me by.
and as you slowly vanish
I huddle in my room and cry.
A memory that’s all I have
that’s all that’s left of you
nothing but a mere memory
that still lingers, only for a little while longer in my head.
Don’t forget about the past
without memories there is no yesterday.
make every day one to remember a
memory to move on with no regrets
poem by lizzy Sydney
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My Memories
Today will be a memory
yesterday is a memory drifting away
memories turn into tears,
tearing us apart.
Fear of moving on, afraid of change,
in a minute this will just be a memory
memories are all pain in vain
memories are like dreams, a reflection of the past.
Memories are vision of what it used to be.
my memories are sadness and struggle
what are yours?
are they sadness and struggle?
You are but a memory
that dwindles as each day passes me by.
and as you slowly vanish
I huddle in my room and cry.
A memory that’s all I have
that’s all that’s left of you
nothing but a mere memory
that still lingers, only for a little while longer in my head.
Don’t forget about the past
without memories there is no yesterday.
make every day one to remember a
memory to move on with no pain or anymore regrets
poem by Ralph Acosta
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Poetry cannot be translated; and, therefore, it is the poets that preserve the languages; for we would not be at the trouble to learn a language if we could have all that is written in it just as well in a translation. But as the beauties of poetry cannot be preserved in any language except that in which it was originally written, we learn the language.
quote by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Precious Memories
Precious memories, unseen angels
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger ever near me
And the sacred scenes unfold
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And those old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear
Chorus:
Precious memories
How they linger
How they ever flood my soul
Then, the stillness of the midnight
Precious sacred scenes unfold
Repeat chorus
Tag:
Precious memories
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Lady
My shadow lady with melodious dreams of childhood ask to my youth age, how are you?
'I'm not well so you can't well
you should not well
when I will well than you should well'
At childhood I was very restive kiddy
my dream was batter fly of different colours flew
with dance around you was bud of flower
You was my first lovely heat
ice was dropping to transform waterfall
My shadow lady with sweet childhood dreams please hear
I'm not well but well
because I'm alone yet and forever will reach...
poem by Mashiur Rahman
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I Am
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live like shadows tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.
poem by John Clare (1865)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pale Blue Eyes
Sometimes I feel so happy
Sometimes I feel so sad
Sometimes I feel so happy
But mostly you just make me mad
Baby, you just make me mad
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Thought of you as my mountain top
Thought of you as my peak
A thought of you as everything
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Skip a life completely
Stuff it in a cup
They said, money is like us in time
It lies, but cant stand up
Down for you is up
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
It was good what we did yesterday
And Id do it once again
The fact that you are married
Only proves youre my best friend
But its truly, truly a sin
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
If I could make the world as pure
And strange as what I see
Id put you in a mirror
Id put in front of me
Id put in front of me
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blue Tit's Nest
Some childhood memories with us seem to linger
And I recall when I was nine or so
Of seeing blue tit fly from hole in standing tree stump
One April day more than forty years ago.
I stood on tip toes and tried to look inside the tree stump
But all seemed dark in there I needed light
I hurried back home for to fetch a flash lamp
And what I saw a memorable sight.
A little nest of moss and hay and lined with feathers
And nine pale eggs with freckles brown to red
Laid by the little bird with yellow unders
Blue wings and tail and tiny blue cap on head.
I marvelled at this wondrous sight of Nature
How one small bird so many eggs could lay
The memory all those years has remained with me
And I still can picture what I see today.
I still can picture forty five years later
Nine speckled eggs in nest of moss and hay
Some things from childhood always remain with us
And from the memory never fade away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Absence Of Mind
There is an elephant in the room it’s in the corner eating my
straw mattress the one I have had since childhood and could
not bear to get rid of, because all my dreams are hidden in
the stalks of cereal plants; white now as an old man’s beard,
yet soft as the fleece of a spring born lamb.
Ah, memory of a good life lived; sing for m let me write down
what happened so long time ago when time was forever and
forgetfulness was a youthful distraction on a jubilant day.
Poor memory is more sinister now, what is forgotten will not
be remembered, so I need my dreams.
It is true that once upon a time I was seafarer, but since I do
not recall well, I have to invent my tales, yet I have seen and
feared the irate sea. I must write all this down if the elephant
eat the last straw my dreams will be blank screen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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If You Keep The Need Believed
Don't linger to wish for those dreams,
Too long.
Give them a moment or two...
Then begin to make them true.
Escapades seldom come to stay.
Fade they do...
And drift away.
What is wished can come true,
If you keep the need believed.
Don't linger to wish for those dreams,
Too long.
Give them a moment or two...
Then begin to make them true.
Make it your promise,
You will remain honest...
With yourself,
And...
Chase every doubt away,
To places you don't go to visit.
Don't linger to wish for those dreams,
Too long.
Give them a moment or two...
Then begin to make them true.
It may seem impossible at first.
But you must keep your thirst,
Real and certain.
And if you do...
Those dreams you feel,
Will come to touch you too.
If,
You keep the need believed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why Do Children Want To Grow
Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday
poem by Kaila George
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Ghosts of Dreams
We are all of us dreamers of dreams,
On visions our childhood is fed;
And the heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead.
From childhood to youth's but a span,
And the years of our life are soon sped;
But the youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead.
'Tis a cup of wormwood and gall,
When the doom of a great man is said;
And the best of a man is under a pall
When the best of his dreams is dead.
He may live on by compact and plan
When the fine bloom of living is shed,
But God pity the little that's left of a man
When most of his dreams are dead.
Let him show a brave face if he can;
Let him woo fame and fortune instead;
Yet there's not much to do, but to bury a man
When the last of his dreams is dead.
poem by William Herbert Carruth
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Childhood Dreams
Said the little Boy to the little Girl
“When I grow up, I’ll be King of the world,
A cowboy, a fireman, the singer in a band,
A scientist or the greatest ball player in the land.”
He never said to his childhood friend
“I’ll be a junkie in the end-
I’ll watch as the dope steals my job and my wife
My self-respect, my children, and eventually, my life.”
That little Boy had plans and dreams
That weren’t about falling apart at the seams.
Said the little Girl to the little Boy
“When I grow up I’ll bring such joy,
I’ll write a song or maybe a book,
I’ll be a model, a mother, a teacher, a cook.”
She never thought in a million years
“I’ll end up a crackhead who has cried all her tears
Whose only wish is another hit,
Who’s lost her soul and herself to it.”
That little girl had dreams in her head-
She never thought she’d be walking dead.
The Moral of this story sad but true
Is that these things could happen to you
Or me, or anyone, it seems, who forgets
Their smaller self and their childhood dreams,
The hungry ghosts with their tortured eyes
Got caught up in their webs of lies.
They lost their dreams, abandoned hope,
And sold their souls to the gods of dope.
But dreams of childhood can always renew-
And mend the hurts life puts us through;
Let Go, Let God(ess) take your pain,
And Change and make you Whole again.
Let Great Spirit open up your eyes
And tell you truths, not twisted lies.
Let Peace Begin inside of you-
The Peace of God which will make you new.
Let Mother guide you as you go,
And learn from watching the river flow.
If you will do these simple things
You’ll remember your Childhood Dreams.
poem by Vicki Ellis
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Box
Box
by Ted L Glines
working working
no time to play
postpone your dreams
for another day
eternity waits
an endless stage
for your childish glee
or dreams of rage
children know
magickal places
dragons and elves
grins on their faces
but growing up
is serious stuff
put your childhood away
learn how to bluff
living by logic
from man-made books
kills your soul
under pious looks
an empty life
is something built
one day at a time
from fears and guilt
growing misuses
drown childhood gladness
replaced with abuses
of adult sadness
rushing your life
schedules and clocks
all of it ends
in a fancy box
going to heaven
or that place of screams
such an awful waste
for the soul with no dreams
poem by Ted L Glines
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I remember my childhood
I remember my childhood
Whenever I am in the mood
I remember my childhood
With the bad and the good
I remember my childhood
With the variety of available junk food
Funny, the old want to be young
While kids endeavour to be old and strong
Girls wanted to grow up fast as women
Boys wanted to grow up fast as men
Before they could walk right or learn
Those were good times
With very little crime
We had fun with little a dime
How is that for a rhyme?
Mum would call us for biscuits and cakes
While we played games and learnt from mistakes
We all went anxiously to school
To see what best pranks any of us could pull
I remember my childhood
I was always polite and not rude
I remember my childhood
If I could then you should
We as kids all had dreams
Which we shared as a team
We all loved to rock but hated homework
I mean what was the point of so much paperwork
And what is really bizarre
Is that I was always after
The bedtime stories from Mama and Papa
I also enjoyed the view of the nightly stars from afar
Same way I loved presents at Christmas and Easter
Mama always used to say
A gift no matter how little will lift anyone's spirit any day
I remember my childhood
And the adventures in the woods
I remember my childhood
With all the includes and excludes
I remember my childhood
And till today there are still things I've never understood
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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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
Just Imagine...............
Some of us look at the present state of this world
And wish things could be different
We imagine the way the world should be
We visualize and hypothesize - it is possible
Imagine the whole world speaking one language
Then, there will be no need for translators
Everybody will understand each other
no matter where they live on planet earth
One language will reduce racial discrimination
and facilitate movements across national borders
Just imagine the entire world using one currency
The need to convert dollars into yen will vanish
or ask – how many euros equals one renminbi
or wonder how many pesos equals one rupee
and speculate how many rands equal one riyal
All the folks in foreign exchange departments
will do something else in the financial market
apart from tracking the rise and fall of
money markets and its influence on stock markets
Just imagine the super rich taking more care
of the poor, the needy, and the unemployed
Then, the homeless will disappear from our roads
The beggars will vanish from our streets
An egalitarian society will be in the making
Just imagine free education at all levels
Then, everybody will be able to develop their
talents and natural endowments to the maximum
Scholars will not be burdened with heavy
student loans for the rest of their lives
They will think of better ways to improve the
society rather than think how to pay back loans
Do you feel all the above imaginations are mere dreams?
Who knows tomorrow! Some dreams have turned into reality
in our life-time. Please stay happy and be optimistic.
poem by Julius Babarinsa
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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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To and Back From the Ocean
Oceanocracy the concept from my childhood memory
Dream holiday is worth 20 millions us $ saving it for 30 years for a dreamer of adventure from Russia to go up to the ISS (international space center)
I am a spaceman going to touch the sand of the ocean and the snow ball of the New Mexico mountains
From a small village from an unknown area of the world
I am bird of a new birth
Still watching the illusive dreams
To the ocean of the dreams
Coming back from the battle of the dreams
To reality-based wisdom, only true intellectuals touch the base of its interaction
what is your most important thing in life, a question to be explored and satoried like language has to be invented, life has to be discovered across disciplines
Bright future with ocean and village apart
intellectual infusion
intellectual genuineness
intellectual nothingness but moving quiteness
ploughshares on the spur of the moments
lines on the new edge of the modern science
Cutting edge is breezeness of change, the real one