Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies
Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age
The child is grown, and puts away childish things.
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.
Nobody that matters, that is. Distant relatives of course
Die, whom one never has seen or has seen for an hour,
And they gave one candy in a pink-and-green stripéd bag, or a jack-knife,
And went away, and cannot really be said to have lived at all.
And cats die. They lie on the floor and lash their tails,
And their reticent fur is suddenly all in motion
With fleas that one never knew were there,
Polished and brown, knowing all there is to know,
Trekking off into the living world.
You fetch a shoe-box, but it’s much too small, because she won’t curl up now:
So you find a bigger box, and bury her in the yard, and weep.
But you do not wake up a month from then, two months
A year from then, two years, in the middle of the night
And weep, with your knuckles in your mouth, and say Oh, God! Oh, God!
Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies that matters,
—mothers and fathers don’t die.
And if you have said, “For heaven’s sake, must you always be kissing a person?”
Or, “I do wish to gracious you’d stop tapping on the window with your thimble!”
Tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow if you’re busy having fun,
Is plenty of time to say, “I’m sorry, mother.”
To be grown up is to sit at the table with people who have died,
who neither listen nor speak;
Who do not drink their tea, though they always said
Tea was such a comfort.
Run down into the cellar and bring up the last jar of raspberries;
they are not tempted.
Flatter them, ask them what was it they said exactly
That time, to the bishop, or to the overseer, or to Mrs. Mason;
They are not taken in.
Shout at them, get red in the face, rise,
Drag them up out of their chairs by their stiff shoulders and shake
them and yell at them;
They are not startled, they are not even embarrassed; they slide
back into their chairs.
Your tea is cold now.
You drink it standing up,
And leave the house.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Nobody that matters, that is.
quote by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Nothing Even Matters
Now the skies could fall
Not even if my boss should call
The world it seems so very small
'Cause nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
See I don't need no alcohol
Your love makes me feel ten feet tall
Without it I'd go through withdrawal
'Cause nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters at all
These buildings could drift out to sea
Some natural catastrophe
Still there's no place I'd rather be
'Cause nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
You're part of my identity
I sometimes have the tendency
To look at you religiously
'Cause nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters to me
Now you won't find me at no store
I have no time for manicures
With you it's never either or
'Cause nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Now my team could score
And make it to the Final Four
Just repossess my 4x4
'Cause nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
Nothing even matters
Nothing even matters no more
song performed by by Lauryn Hill from The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extinct Of Childhood
childhood is matching out
My generation is not watching out
The genesis of a blackout
In a scene that must not be cut out
Scene is a stage of life
Childhood! I am in retrospect
I wonder at the turn of events
Imagine the exit of a crucial stage
These days they recognise contraceptives
That is why I am hypertensive
Children can not comprehend comprehensively
English teacher in comprehension
A child's exposure to adulthood
Achild's experience of adulthood
Equal to taking two steps at a time
Which causes a faall of a lifetime
Abomination now normal occurences
Adult language now children songs
Their songs leave our mouth ajar
Our taboo is now their faboo
Girl raped when a toddler
Exploring, performing before teenager
Perishing before adulthood
Who is the future of tomorrow?
Bring back childhood days
Let membership be mandatory
Make Right of Participation obligatory
In togetherness we rescue childhood
Children deserve the right to choose
Heavenly endowment from Mother Nature
Allow these children to nurture
Never force them to mature
My propagation about childhood
Let childhood songs be babbling
Let their dance be jumping
Let their dressing be decent
Be free to twinkle again
Stars are permanently up
Mothers should sit and watch
That Humpty might fall again
You will soon devour an elephant
With a lifetime ahead of you
Your year of Yahooze by the corner
No hurry in life, time for everything
poem by Olutosin Oladosu Adebowale
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On Child Labour
Childhood years are something we treasure,
But there are those who have not achieved this pleasure.
A childhood they could not savour,
As they had to do rigorous child labour.
Can there be a gamble of greater sorrow?
Than giving up your childhood,
For some food for tomorrow....
poem by Sameer Daniel Gardner
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In Heart In Mind
In heart in mind there is no time
each moment merges with these moods of mine
others missunderstood and couldn't see
my neediness comes from my childhood days
when i craved love hugs warmth and praise
instead i found anger, hurt and rejection
which comes back to me in moments of silent reflection
these moments which leave others lost and confused
are the times im rembering how i was abused
there is a small child held dear in my heart
who cries each night long alone in the dark
who no one hears exept myself
my sadness effects my emotional health and others to.
to her people are cold, cruel and unforgiving
her life hardly seems worth the effort of living
if no one hears her i know i must
there must be someone for this child to trust
there was no rescue in those distant childhood days
and all these years later i still long to be saved
so when i seem down and reach for your touch
try to understand why i need it so much
don't ignore me when i act juevenille but hug me and hold me for the sake of that child.
poem by Kelly Louise Houseman
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True Faith
I feel so extraordinary
Somethings got a hold on me
I get this feeling Im in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
I dont care cause Im not there
And I dont care if Im here tomorrow
Again and again Ive taken too much
Of the things that cost you too much
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...
When I was a very small boy,
Very small boys talked to me
Now that weve grown up together
Theyre afraid of what they see
Thats the price that we all pay
Our valued destiny comes to nothing
I cant tell you where were going
I guess there was just no way of knowing
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...
I feel so extraordinary
Somethings got a hold on me
I get this feeling Im in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
The chances are weve gone too far
You took my time and you took my money
Now I fear youve left me standing
In a world thats so demanding
I used to think that the day would never come
Id see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun...
song performed by by New Order
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
My Childhood Memories
Childhood memories are often steeped in mystery.
The older we get the memories exclude
sometimes things we might find painful as we journeyed on.
I tried to visualise my childhood as a happy one,
though I know in my heart it was a very much lonely one.
Not only was I shy, but I never mixed very well.
I spent so much of my time nearly always on my own.
The only exciting time I can remember
was one summer I spent with friends of my father
whom I referred to as Aunt Elsie and Uncle Jim.
For the two months I spent with them
in a small town called Allison
hold some of the best memories of my childhood.
It was away from my parents
and into someone’s house that cared.
I went fishing every day
in the stream at the end of the garden,
made many friends
and had one of the most enjoyable times
of my childhood
that will always live within me.
5-6 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Fathers Chair
My fathers chair still standing there
All alone since the long night
Now its three years on and I still feel
Hell come home, well be alright
So wheres this healing time brings
I was told the pain would ease
But it still hurts like the first night
That night my brother, my mother and i
Were looking up at a distant star
And wishing we could reach that far
And back in the house
And alone for the first time
We told each other we cared
We avoided my fathers chair
I watch my family, we hold on
We are strong and well be alright
The clock continues counting down, all the while
And every child will share the long night
But do the spirits meet again
Why am I still so filled with doubt
Is my soul everlasting
And the far distant future
When I knew youd be gone
Came too fast and stays too long
Why do they leave the weak of spirit
And take the strong
When the world turns sour
And I get sick from the smell
And I cant find no comfort there
I climb into my fathers chair
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Thats Why Im Here
Person to person and man to man
Im back in touch with my long lost friend
Listen to reason and understand
And think of me from way back when
He said me and melissa well we fell out of love
We ran out of luck seems like lightning struck
Ive been thinking of leaving but I cant raise a buck
James Im wondering could I borrow your truck
I said thats why Im here
Got no other reason
Thats why Im standing before you
Thats why Im here
Johns gone found dead he dies high hes brown bread
Later said to have drowned in his bed
After the laughter the wave of the dread
It hits us like a ton of lead
It seems learn not to burn means to turn on a dime
And walk on if youre walking even if its an uphill climb
And try to remember that workings no crime
Just dont let em take and waste your time
Thats why Im here
This is an iou
I reckon I owe you one now
Listen wendy and listen gloria
Thisll be better tomorrow
Fortune and fames such a curious game
Perfect strangers can call you by name
Pay good money to hear fire and rain
Again and again and again
Some are like summer coming back every year
Got your baby got your blanket got your bucket of beer
I break into a grin from ear to ear
And suddenly its perfectly clear
Thats why Im here
This is the part about kitty and bim
He loved her and she loved him
Wake em up shake em up the middle of the night
Got to tell me everythings alright
He said thats why Im here
Thats right
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock Me To sleep
Backward, turn backward, O time, in your flight;
Make me a child again, just for tonight!
Mother, come back from that echoless shore;
Take me again in your heart as of yore --
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair,
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Backward, turn backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears --
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain --
Take them and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay --
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away --
Weary of sowing for others to reap --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded -- our faces between --
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again;
Come from the silence, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old --
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light!
For, with its sunny-edged shadows once more,
Haply will throng all the visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep --
Rock me to sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother! the years have been long
Since I last listened to your lullaby song;
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream;
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep --
Rock me sleep, mother -- rock me to sleep!
poem by Elizabeth Akers Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Chidren Of Abraham
Our Father is the father of all fathers.
Our Father is Abraham’s Father.
Our Father is John’s Father.
Our Father is Joseph’s Father.
Our Father is Jesus’ Father.
Our Father is Paul’s Father.
Jesus would thank our Father for placing the secrets of heaven inside children.
I can be 20 and you can be 105.
We all are nothing but children in Gods perfect eyes.
Children symbolizes no worries,
Matthew Ch 6 v.25-34.
Children symbolizes love,
Matthew Ch5 v.43-48.
Children becomes the salt of the world,
Matthew Ch 5 v.13.
The salt is what makes the world taste good.
The salt are us the children of Abraham,
John,
Joseph,
Paul,
Jesus,
And the children of the Father of all fathers.
Jesus loves the youth so much.
Matthew Ch 19 v.14 Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”,
Meaning the children.
Matthew Ch 18 v.3” I tell you the truth,
Unless you change and become like children,
You will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.
Are we not children in the Fathers eyes?
Did the Father of all fathers not tell Jesus these things,
John Ch8 v.40?
Do we fall and make mistakes as little children?
Dose a good parent forgives their child after a child apologizes to them?
Dose a child builds in growth when the child cries and stops?
Dose discipline corrects the child when the child shows out?
Many would say “I pay the bills,
Therefore I am grown”,
But dose our Father God pay the bills still or is it the ones who claims their grown?
To the ones who claim their grown of course you put childish things away and you think as an adult,
But I ask you before the world dies and becomes consumed by the dark are you still a child at heart?
Matthew Ch18 v.3,
Children of Abraham please take heed.
Before Jesus returns and awaken all who are sleep.
Pleases realize and see that we all are children.
I may pay bills and work 24/7 with a complete high school education,
But still I teach those who are younger then me about the mercy of Jesus.
By playing video games and watching wrestling and cartoons on television with them.
The children by me already loves our Father Gods poetry.
Me being by their side talking and listing to them makes them smile.
I teach them what I know and I let them know that there’s nothing they can’t ask me about.
I enjoy laughing with them the kids as well,
Because I too am nothing but a child.
poem by Raff Rafael
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My Innocent Childhood
soil soil and soil, , playing in the soil,
No fear of disease, no fear of toil.
What a wonderful days that was,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
Only friend no foes,
no thinking of what dont and what does.
No fear of future, no thinking of present,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
What was the past, leave it, it surpassed,
what has to happen, lets face when it comes.
Future planning! What is this?
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
Play was religion and play was God,
only thing which gave fear, was my fathers rod.
Crying crying crying a lot, then said love you pappa,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..
poem by Zeya Mallick
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My Mother
Every one gives praise about their mothers
But none can give as much praise as me.
She brought me from a country
Where most lived in poverty.
She worked hard and saved her money
So that I may have a better life
She is an excellent mother
And to my father a good wife.
She has been there every step of my life
She turned bad things into right.
She has given me the strength to pursue my dream
For in me, there is something that she has seen.
She taught me how to love and respect
All that GOD has given
and to make life worth living.
Through her pregnancy and through my birth
She has given all her worth.
Then through my childhood years
To my teenage years, she was with me
To shed her tears.
when I was feeling down and out
And I wanted to scream and shout
She was there to wipe my tears
And put to rest, all my fears.
Even now that I am grown
all her love is still shown.
No one can love you more than a mother
And in my life there is no other.
So to my mother this is for you
You are my life, my love, my dream come true
And I am so thankful to you.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Photo from the Past
“A photo from the past’
I dreamt of returning home
Where for long time ago
I made a small house
Of green grass and broken woods.
I dreamt of returning to my childhood.
When there were no responsibilities
No worries, no fears of failure probabilities.
I dreamt of returning to my childhood,
When there were no extra loads.
Actually I returned
through a smiling child photo
through a moment from the past I borrowed.
The child ran far away
With her small hands she waves goodbye
She refused for only one moment to stay
Neither my world is hers nor the day.
I am not blaming her
As she is back to her time
And I am still in mine
So none of us can live in the other’s time.
And I wake up from my dream
On the smiling child in the photo
On the moment that for transient moment
I borrowed.
poem by Shymaa Awad
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Suffer Little Children
Jesus said, 'Let the little children
come to me, and do not hinder
them, for the kingdom of heaven
belongs to such as these.'
And he said: 'I tell you the truth,
unless you change and become
like little children, you will never
enter the kingdom of heaven.”
What then does it mean
if a grown woman entreats
to her house little children
to a few gives candy sweets
just to plan torment
a three year old child
who does not understand
this women in her heart
plans these deeds from heart
that must rage at the parents
of an innocent three year old
child who cannot understand?
What then does it mean
if publicly her husband
claims this is their right
and neighbours are silent?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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