These days, there are a great many books about childhood trauma and its effects, but at the time all the experts agreed that one should forget about it as quickly as possible and pick up where you left off.
quote by Peter Straub
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Theresienstadt
If you search there
With today's high-tech tools
You will find the effects there
In ovens there that were his final stop
Somewhere there
Is enough of a sample
To test with modern equipment
For proof he with others ended there
From a sample of dust in pile there
Maybe still buried in a trench
Maybe blown away by now
Since 1943 is a long time
Long enough to forget George Pick ended there
The man who in 1912 caused Eiestein
To consider absolute differential calculus
Which got General Relativity unstuck
Eienstein - a Jew was welcomed
In England Germany America
George Pick - a Jew too
Got stuffed into a freight rail car to Theresienstadt
We've left him there
We allowed the cause that took him there
We should never forget the effect
We should never forget George Pick
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Books
Books take me to a place like no other
When I'm reading no one else madders
All my problems go away and it's just my books and me.
Books I like that word but when I read
My mom and dad and all my brothers and sisters go away
And I'm left there with no one but a book.
And then I pick it up and the word isn't so empty any more
It's full again. Like when you're a kid and your mom or dad
Come home after a long trip without you and you missed them
And then you're crying, laughing and happy all at the same time.
That how I get with a book I just found.
Happy because it's by my favorite Author but yet sad because
The book ended with questions still in my head.
And laughing because it was funny at one point in the book.
I love that felling when I pick up a book.
How do you fell when you pick up a book?
Happy, sad, a funny felling? You tell me please come on now don't be shy.
poem by Alley Rodriguez
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Christmas In Lisnaboy
Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
In Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary's house of here far north and far away
We enjoyed the ham and turkey and pudding on Christmas Day
But the years went by so quickly and time has left me looking gray
And the biological clock on my life silently ticking away
Weeks before Christmas we wondered what toys Santa to us would bring
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing,
The Seasons go so quickly and the past forever gone
But the happy times from childhood in the memory living on
Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary in eternal rest now lay
But they come into my memory on the eve of Christmas Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Never could you hide from...
1. Never could you hide from
Years, passed in turn.
Childhood is left for
Adult's life by all.
R.: But the school desk
I'm dreaming,
And the school books
I'm reading,
I remember all the teachers
One by one.
And the freckled girl is crying
From my childhood, when I'm
Trying to recall in mind the old time.
2. If you know, the childs
Try to grow fast,
Being in hurry
Turn to man, at last.
R.
3. We feel being tighted
In the golden age,
But we long for childhood,
When it comes to end.
R.
song, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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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 Faded Away
Childhood Faded away,
to a far away land,
simple, so simple were we,
Days of Play,
Going our Way,
Having fun, no care,
for another day,
time for us stood still,
playing king of the hill
Childhood Faded away
thinking of another day,
summer time was fine,
when friends were kind,
swiming holes were filled,
our hearts were thrilled
Childhood Faded Away
to a time that makes me sway
many years have passed away,
since childhood faded to another day,
Childhood Faded to places,
UNKNOWN TO US
floating somewhere in time.
wrote 1-15-07
We Agree
AndersonHoweSquireWhite
September 11, 2001
Answers never clear again
This turning of the page
This turn look away
There I took a left turning
Before I came of age
I agreed to let it out
I agreed to let it go
I agreed to turn around
I agreed to turn my face away
Danger is the most important
Fear you'll ever know
The transporting of refugees
The silent night is cold
And all the time
We looked around
As we were never told
But we agreed to let it out
We agreed to let it go
We agreed to turn our backs
We agreed to turn our face away, away
Thousands to the million
Sisters, grandmothers and more
It's not the feast we throw away
It's the way we close the door
Their silence deafens every sound
We try just to ignore
To waste their future freedom
We'll regret forever more
I believe in
I believe in
These are the days that we will talk about
I believe in
I believe in
One understanding what is real
If we are one
Then we are refugees
We are the prisoners of our own design
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song
Perpetuate this song of love
Now we build the bridges
That we walk upon together
At the last count many lonely souls
The sadness always kills
Each breaking point is waiting
For the promise to fulfill
When we agree to turn the page
When we agree to help th
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Agree
AndersonHoweSquireWhite
September 11, 2001
Answers never clear again
This turning of the page
This turn look away
There I took a left turning
Before I came of age
I agreed to let it out
I agreed to let it go
I agreed to turn around
I agreed to turn my face away
Danger is the most important
Fear you'll ever know
The transporting of refugees
The silent night is cold
And all the time
We looked around
As we were never told
But we agreed to let it out
We agreed to let it go
We agreed to turn our backs
We agreed to turn our face away, away
Thousands to the million
Sisters, grandmothers and more
It's not the feast we throw away
It's the way we close the door
Their silence deafens every sound
We try just to ignore
To waste their future freedom
We'll regret forever more
I believe in
I believe in
These are the days that we will talk about
I believe in
I believe in
One understanding what is real
If we are one
Then we are refugees
We are the prisoners of our own design
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song of love
If we are one
Seen through the eyes of a child
We will perpetuate this song
Perpetuate this song of love
Now we build the bridges
That we walk upon together
At the last count many lonely souls
The sadness always kills
Each breaking point is waiting
For the promise to fulfill
When we agree to turn the page
When we agree to help th
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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On Books
Books are my first love, I’m so proud to read;
They give me knowledge and help life to lead;
Hours, days just pass by, by reading life-time;
Life would not be worth, if not for my rhyme.
Great are those people who write books all life;
Burning just candles, with Goose-quills in strife;
Tired of writing though day-long or night,
They keep on writing in such a bad light.
Books serve a great cause; their value can’t cease;
It takes years to write but reading is ease;
Book-makers struggle to print a few books;
And keep spending time to, improve their looks.
Some find their way to libraries in town;
Some remain untouched and nev’r taken down;
Silver-fish, Moths eat the books that are old;
Some are gone obsolete, some sold like gold.
Some are in tatters and must be rebound;
Books are Man’s best friends where solace is found;
Reading for long hours, does help you to learn;
Books give much knowledge and wisdom to men.
Read books with great care whose weight is in gold;
Serve generations though they may be old;
Source of much Info, deserving respect;
Books are life-partners whom you ne’er reject!
poem by John Celes
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Good Ole Days
Oh, the good ole days,
why can't this day be,
the good ole days
thinking of those days,
long ago, when old age,
was on the horizon,
childhood just a step behind,
yesterday just a memory,
childhood memories when,
oh, so carefree
today the present,
will be those good ole days,
when old age is upon us
we once again wished we
were back in time and,
oh so care free.
wrote 12-31-06
There are so many effects and so many things that are done digitally now that it's so hard for the director to really control the process, because there are more and more experts that come in.
quote by John Frankenheimer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deleted
The last time you said no,
And I agreed.
You wanted me to extend to you,
An apology.
I couldn't believe you actually insisted.
You wanted me to resist.
But instead I went along with it.
Remember when I persisted...
To get you to see me differently?
I wanted to prove to you,
I was genuine and true.
But you wanted to play hard to get.
And when you did that,
I had no regrets.
And now you wish to begin again.
After you have discovered,
My honesty is not a trend.
I am not someone you can dump,
And pick back up!
You thought you were too good for me.
But it is you who has run out of luck.
The last time you said no,
And I agreed.
I deleted you off the scene.
And that was done immediately.
I am not the one,
Suffering from an emotion of desperate need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Forget (22nd)
Don’t forget those times we used to laugh
About your silliness and awkwardness
I so love that about you
Don’t forget those times we watched
Some epic gross movie, I enjoyed
The best part was- sitting next to you!
Don’t forget those times we felt so uninspired
Yet your presence lights my fire,
You gave me so much joy
Don’t forget those times we just sit and talk
Sometimes you sang, I listened,
I cherish that moment my love
Don’t forget those times we used to eat out
The best days we had together
I wish that more would come
Don’t forget my words to you
How great and good you are,
I will say it again, if ever you doubt
Don’t forget those times of long silence
Yet our hearts beat as one
I will miss your empty corner
Don’t forget those times I didn’t speak
I was praying for you, I was longing
To be near you
Don’t forget those times of sadness
I was teaching you to rise up,
so you would know what you want
Don’t forget this special time, I allowed
My heart to love, I want to talk
I want to know, how about you?
Don’t forget that all we have, is but limited time
Just talk, just ask,
I have been waiting all this time
poem by Claire Ann Pajo Sansolis
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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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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Star Maps
Never in a year does a star
Misshapen the globe,
The war is on, the wars have begun.
Stars have battles of great aggression,
Opening the road; generals foretell,
Strict warriors beautifully die.
My experts are forgiven at times,
This time their weapons sell heat,
Forsaking our world, and their world has won.
Stars revolve around us once more,
Stars' destinations can be mapped
And embarked upon.
These experts have clothes of the stars
And this night is the time of our Life,
The mercenaries debate with words once more.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Carson McCullers
she died of alcoholism
wrapped in a blanket
on a deck chair
on an ocean
steamer.
all her books of
terrified loneliness
all her books about
the cruelty
of loveless love
were all that was left
of her
as the strolling vacationer
discovered her body
notified the captain
and she was quickly dispatched
to somewhere else
on the ship
as everything
continued just
as
she had written it
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Trauma...
having heard that you had trauma
falling on the busy street with no one helping
in a bit, i cannot really relate,
but i remember in that big city where i once lived
trauma is everywhere
even in the restaurants where new lovers dine
even in boulevards where yachts love their rest
even in bed where love is invented
trauma has become a way of life
like breakfast and special dinners
like waking up
in some ways when another person jumps from
the 13th floor and then you hear the ambulance screaming
you simply dismiss this as another daily routine
and so you close the window
and watch the soap opera on TV
lying on the sofa
your thoughts focusing on the most trivial matter
that is more of
another trauma.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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