A growing number of young women who have the freedom to decide have decided that career can wait, and the delicious early years of their children's lives can't.
quote by Suzanne Fields
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In my early years, there were a number of experiences that made me decide I could not afford the luxury of just being an actress. There were a number of issues I wanted to address. And I wanted to use my career as a platform.
quote by Cicely Tyson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Numbers
Its stranger how some numbers
keep recurring in our lives.
At first, we do not notice it
until one day we think of them.
Our date of birth, houses numbers we have lived in,
our children’s birth date
and our brother or sister’s date of birth.
When you look at them
and one number seems to readily appear,
you begin to wonder if that number
has some bearing on our lives.
The number linked to my life is number 8.
I was born on the 18th,
in Canada the house I grew up in was 28
and my sister was born on the 18th.
Moving to England our house number was 62.
When my wife and I got married,
our first house was 24,
our second house was 18
and our present house number is 107.
My wife’s birth date is the 8th;
my son was born on the 17-8-71.
Everywhere I look the number 8 just keeps popping up.
Coincidence I guess you could call it,
or is there something else a foot.
I will just let you the reader to decide.
3 September 2009
Author’s note.
The evening I wrote this, my wife went out, was talking to someone, and mentioned how the number 8 always appeared in our lives.
Coincidence?
poem by David Harris
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He’s Mine
No one asked if you cared
So you can care or not care all you want
Cuase I’m enjoying being his pretty sweet thing
I’m not in line and I don’t have to wait
I’m the first priority and the one who brings in the bait
It’s kind of cute how you rhymed all
Of your jealous call
He doesn’t have to fool
No body but your childish ways
He may be the man with all the words in your lonely corn maze
But he is my man
A real woman, girl please, I am and always will be
Yes I may be young
but age is just a number
A real women is shown on what she gives to her family
Her education
And her LOVER
That is up to him to decide if she is worth enough
A real women is everything a man is not
That is why silly poets say women complete men
Heck if I’m not a real woman then
What is such a amazing man doing with me
Because he’s mine
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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If This Is What Freedom Is About
If this is what freedom is about who would wish to be free
When only of war dead we read and hear about and pictures of death we see
Mothers grieving for their dead children in Iraq their heartbreak with them will stay
Until the Reaper claim them though for them 'twill be a happy day.
Is this what freedom is about when some talk of liberty
For the suffering of others they cannot show empathy
They say to rid you of your tyrant some of your children had to die
But that's the price you pay for democracy so your freedom now enjoy.
If this is what freedom is about then tyranny sounds sweet
A young woman murdered by a suicide bomber bits of her scattered around the Street
For how many years must this go on how many more must die in this way
If this is what freedom is about the price is too much too pay.
Is this what freedom is about a young man without feet
And some even say he is lucky that the Reaper he did cheat
The victim of a roadside bomb now in his mother's care
Do not talk of freedom to the one who sits in his wheelchair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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04. Beautiful Women
young women, old women
in their heart
despite the years
the yearning to be beautiful
young women, old women
they look at each other
one with envy
the other with fear and contempt (of the wrinkles, old age)
young women, old women
they look into each other
one for a mother
the other for a daughter
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Through The Years
Through the years, I have thought of you quite often:
Your absence was ne'er a lacking that time could soften.
I had always hoped that our friendship would last forever-
With a prayer to God, I wished we would always be together.
Nothing could have prepared me for that fateful day-
What it shall mean, only our patient wait will say-
A wait for a time when you and I are both ready-
When our inspired hearts may be made to be steady,
To receive one another-wholly and completely,
When we learn to love one another unabashedly and repletely!
Through the years, I have found naught, with which to draw compare
To the beauty inherent in the depths of your soul-inspiring stare;
You need not be here, nor do I need be, there-
I may not make part with thee, nor would I dare;
Though the years without thee had numbered more than twenty,
Thoughts about thee had been beauteous, varied and plenty.
Through the years, our lives have been quite disparate-
Perhaps it was each of our hearts' way to prepare it
For the glorious resplendence that is our consort's refrain;
I could ne'er aspire to heights this lofty, nor would I deign.
Our parting was my sweetest sorrow, our re-acquaintance, its recompense:
Mine own soul hath gathered inspiration ever since!
Through the years, mine mind hath thusly wandered
To thoughts of the beauty you are, and the years that we squandered
In search of the ardor only we could, to each other, provide-
Though this too, was not left for us, to decide,
But rather parcel to His Grandiose Plan;
It was He alone that decided this separation's span.
Through the years, our disparate lives have yet been connected,
By a Power far greater than we know-He corrected
What was indeed our failure-that to our separation, we ceded;
Perhap we were just not prime, and knew not, what we needed;
It is no matter any longer, the solution hath been provided
Through the render of our ardor, our fate hath been decided:
What hath been yet revealed, is but to the whole, a pittance-
Our lives entire, offered to each as this burden's quittance!
Through the years, the Truth shall be revealed:
A beautiful amative comes to fruition, hitherto concealed!
A fanciful futurity depends upon but our own free will-
What it shall be, is to be decided still.
The power to mold same is in three most capable hands-
Fashioned by what you and I, as well as God Almighty, commands!
-Maurice Harris,26 March 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Freedom Is For Children
I wrote the words of freedom,
Ive even sung the song.
But freedom is for children,
cause they dont understand whats wrong.
The children are so very lucky,
cause theyre not old enough to know.
Not old enough to realize,
But theyll find out as they grow.
The children are so very lucky,
But, on the other hand, whos gonna save the land?
The children are so very lucky,
But mans invention is gonna be the prevention of their life.
This song is nearly over,
And sos the world and the day.
Theres something missin,
But who will listen enough to do what it will take?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
Freedom is for children. why cant it be for me?
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guns and their shadows
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
life spirit lessens,
innocence suffers,
dream dies,
expectation extincts.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
hopes become horrors,
desires become despairs,
trust becomes tenions,
smiles become sighs.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
word means whispers,
home means house,
homeland means ex land,
freedom means fantasy.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
life still goes on,
some where a force moves on,
binding and blending every one
for guns can spit only fires and not lives.
poem by Manju Shree
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In The Name Of Freedom...
we give a young man a gun,
and tell him to go kill in
the name of freedom...
we assure him that God is
on his side.
and he goes and kills and
commits atrocious acts of
violence...
and the defense contracts
grow, we secure more oil...
the war machine feeds itself!
this young man comes home to no job,
no real future, limited benefits,
and pretty much no help.
and he has to try to sleep at
night, hearing the cries and
the screams of the dying, of
women and children...
freedom? bullshit!
a license to kill?
who is the murderer here?
the young man put on the altar?
or the faceless ones who sent him?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Decided
I decided not to cry
'cause I know
you cannot wipe my tears
I decided not to ask
'cause I know you cannot give
I decided not to give
'cause I know you will reject
I decided not to speak
'cause I know
you will be...hurt.
I decided to decide
'cause I know....
I have to.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Taho (english)
Tahooo! ! !
The loud voice
of the young Taho vendor
awokes the children
early in the morning
of Saturdays and Sundays.
The young Taho vendor
he always had the smile
and he always added more Taho
at the same price of two pesos
in every cup of every child.
Taho,
I like it too
it's not only delicious
but nutritious too.
But so sad,
several Saturdays
and Sundays passed by
and the voice
of the young Taho vendor
I heard no more.
Oh, yes...
the young Taho vendor,
he's now in Singapore.
How lucky he is
he could earn more
in Singapore.
Taho,
I'm afraid
I could no longer taste it
and the children....
oh, yes
now they wake up late
on Saturdays and Sundays.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Having played an angel for so long, you can imagine that I've been asked to endorse any number of causes over the years. Obviously I have to limit my participation with any charity, so I decided to really concentrate on my love of children.
quote by Roma Downey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On September 11,2001
On September 11,2001
Smothering black and gray smoke ascended to
The luminous blue sky
Engulfing it until it turned as black as night.
Young children are confused while thier parents cry noiselessly for loved ones.
Calling every person they know to make sure that they are alive and well.
On September 11,2001.
On September 11,2001,
Brave young men and women struggled to save our citizens.
The young. The old.
Those planes.
Those innocent men, women and children who died.
Whose lives were lost on that timid day because of terriosts.
WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER AND WE WILL NEVER FORGET! !
On September 11,2001.
poem by Shannon Monroe
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Keep On Growing
I was laughing, playing in the streets,
I was unknowing; I didnt know about things.
Then he came along, but never really showed me,
I thought that love could wait.
I was a young girl. I was sure to go astray.
You walked right into my life and told me
Love would find a way, find a way, yeah.
Gotta keep on growing,
Keep on growing, gotta keep on growing.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I was standing, looking in the face
Of one who loved me, feeling so ashamed.
Hoping, I pray the lord, that he could understand me,
And I didnt know his name.
He took my hand in his and told me I was wrong.
He said, youre gonna be all right girl,
Oh just as long, just as long...
Gotta keep on growing,
Keep on growing, gotta keep on growing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Baby, someday maybe, who knows where or when, lord,
Just you wait and see. let me hold you,
Together hand in hand, alone forever;
cause I want just you and me.
This time is gonna change it all, I know its true;
Our love is gonna keep on growing
And growings all we gotta do, all we gotta do, yeah.
Oh, got to keep on growing,
Gotta keep on growing, gotta keep on growing.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Gotta keep on growing,
Keep on growing, gotta keep on growing.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Gotta keep on growing, gotta keep on growing,
Staring, looking in the face of the one that loved me.
Gotta keep on growing,
Gotta keep on growing, gotta keep on growing, oh yeah,
I was a young girl,
You said love will find a way,
Love will find a way.
Gotta keep on growing...
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extension 33
Living at the y, extension 33,
Nothing to care or to worry.
Once I was in love with a blind man,
But my auntie told me, dont do it, its not worth it.
Living at the y, 33 years,
No one to call or to write to.
Once I was in love with a married man,
But my instincts told me, dont tell him, itll kill you.
Im sad I didnt marry the blind man,
But whats a life with three blind children?
Im glad I never told the married man,
It saved my pride and freedom.
Living at the y, in 33 rooms,
Nowhere to visit or write to.
Once I was in love, it nearly killed me,
But now I have my pride and freedom.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom and pride.
Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom,
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep On Growing
By eric clapton and bobby whitlock
I was laughing,
Playing in the streets, I was unknowing;
I didnt know my fate.
Playing
The game of love, but never really showing;
I thought that love could wait.
I was a young man and sure to go astray.
You walked right into my life and told me love would find a way
To keep on growing, keep on growing, keep on growing.
I was standing,
Looking in the face of one who loved me,
Feeling so ashamed.
Hoping,
And praying, lord, that she could understand me,
But I didnt know her name.
She took my hand in hers and told me I was wrong.
She said, youre gonna be all right boy, oh just as long
As you keep on growing, keep on growing, keep on growing. yeah, yeah, yeah.
Maybe,
Someday baby, who knows where or when, lord,
Just you wait and see.
Well be walking,
Together hand in hand, alone forever;
Woman just you and me.
cause time is gonna change us, lord, and I know its true;
Our love is gonna keep on glowing and growing and its all we gotta do.
Keep on growing, keep on growing, keep on growing. yeah, yeah, yeah.
Keep on growing, keep on growing, keep on growing.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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R N R
Dont put that thing too close to my head
It took this long just to get ahead, he says
He knows for sure, but that he cant decide
Between his decency and this matter of pride
So hes growing up on time, hes growing up in the middle...
And it burns, and it burns, the sun burns
Oh, now I can really feel it. how could you ever stand it?
Weve got the same ideas, we got the same old fears;
Different colors sometimes, but hey, who cares?
Its just years that shears our lives apart, like the
Time you tried to teach your nephew to fart, he couldnt do it. push!
So hes growing up on time, Im growing up in the middle...
Oh, now I can really feel it. how could you ever stand it?
Im not the kind of person who would say it, if it wasnt the truth
And then you go and tell a friend that her hearts on fire
And it has no meaning.
Now and only now I know the difference when you tell me
There is no difference.
So shes growing up on time, shes growing up in the middle...
Nows the time to evaluate between the love you give
And the love that you take.
Its not a matter of opinion, when it comes down to it,
Its just a difference of opinion, that much I can take.
So Im growing up on time, Im growing up in the middle...
And it burns
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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None of Them Have Men In Their Lives
None of them have men in their lives.
The boys that were raised...
Stayed boys.
Encouraged to do what boys do.
To go outside and play.
Games they would do all day.
None of them have men in their lives.
They were taught to criticize the ones that tried.
They would mock their attempts.
To convince the efforts made...
Were not up to par.
And less than grade A.
Leaving children to be raised by women...
To degrade any man that came their way!
None of them have men in their lives.
Because they do not recognize what one is.
They seek an image...
Portrayed by society.
And they wait for society to create for them...
Men that society has diminished,
With false images.
And none of them will ever find,
A man who can duck bullets and flies!
Or escape criticism...
For the things he does and tries.
There will never be a man,
To be who he is in their eyes.
They have all been lied to!
And that's why...
None of them have men in their lives!
Not even the boys who too seek men...
To show the women they have found at least one.
One that had a mind...
And did no prison time!
Or played games,
Like boys who grow up to look like men do!
None of them have men in their lives.
Since the ones who know they are,
Men.
Have chosen not to have anything to do with them.
Believing they are just as rare as true women.
So...
They fly alone solo!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Knowing you might some day come
Knowing you might some day come
and how unprepared I’ve always
been
like Mr. Sloppy
in Charles Dickens’
our Mutual Friend
I made a list:
not meat, vegetables, beer and pudding
but number l, warmth.
number 2, warmth.
number 3, warmth.
number 4, a good snuggler.
number 5, someone who sings
while he/she works.
number 6, a dancer.
number 7, someone who grows & is
intrigued by
the mind. And
by the spirit too.
Number 7, someone who is loved
by animals; and loves
them back without
a thought.
number 8, someone who smells
delicious.
number 9, someone whose anger
lasts no longer than mine.
number 10, someone who
stands beside me. behind me. If necessary
in front of me.
number 11, someone who
is a passable cook.
number 12, Someone who laughs
a lot, thinks I have a fine
sense
of humor
& has friends.
number 13, someone who can be
original in dress:
stylish
warlock –In silver, lapis
& black – to my witch.
poem by Alice Walker
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The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan
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