Naiveté
We all are born naive at birth
Ingenuous for what it’s worth.
The cure is in the things we learn
From childhood to adult that’s earned.
Yet some of us of age remain
A child, a lamb their both the same
The naiveté are most beguiled
By those of us so versatile
Among the rank and file we lurk
And prey on you with clever words.
Word to the wise from one who knows
Be careful of the ones who pose
To be your special pal or friend
One might deceive you in the end.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Be a child-parent-adult
To the child, it is a day.
To the parent, it is a night.
To the adult both are inclusive.
The child lives in fantasy.
The parent lives in fallacy.
It is the adult that lives,
Where he is put, in ecstasy.
The child admires things.
The parent criticizes them.
The adult realizes them.
The child appreciates.
The parent deprecates.
The adult rationalizes.
The poet is the child in man.
The priest is the parent in man.
The logician is the adult in man.
Live a child to be youthful.
Live a parent to be awesome.
Live an adult to be credible.
27.01.2000, Kottayam
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Do You Believe In Angels?
Do you believe in angels, friend?
They all believe in you!
I know it's hard to comprehend,
It's too good to be true!
It's too good that God made each one
To help us day-by-day,
Yet we know life's not always fun,
Ask those who kneel and pray...
Do you believe in angels now?
Like you did as a child...
Or has your faith been crushed somehow
Or have you been beguiled?
Has science talked you out of truth
That once your heart received?
Now you're full grown, no more a youth,
Since then, were you deceived?
Do you believe in angels here?
On this, God's precious Earth...
Has something gripped your heart with fear
To steal away self-worth?
Consider how the seasons change,
The years remain the same...
Why then, today, should it seem strange
That angels know your name?
Do you believe in angels, too?
Their wings a glorious sight!
Enough to warm the likes of you
And bear you up in flight!
From land-to-land and shore-to-shore,
Their legends are renowned...
And blessed are we forevermore
Each time they come around!
Do you believe in angels, friend?
Or do you think them odd?
Read the Bible from end-to-end
And heed the Word of God...
I pray you learn to love the Lord,
His Spirit and His Son...
Holy angels of one accord
Help them to get things done!
So please, please, please! Please, please! Please, please!
Believe, believe, believe!
For when you do, what hope, what peace,
What joy you will receive!
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
We can learn more from Revelation TV
on Sky Digital and Freesat channels.
Website: revelationtv-dot-com
Angels Gallery: merrychristmas.shows.it
poem by Denis Martindale
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Birth Love
My love is like a birth
Happens once, once for a soul
Cute face and tiny structure
Loved by all as a child
Even I got the care and love
All the joys and happiness on earth
But only for somewhile and sometime
As a man passes his infancy and gets adult.
All I know is my love remains in me
As an infant child of innocence
As the essence and childhood memories
It comes before me when I think
Think of myself with them and her.
Going with Keat's and his dogma
Beauty is truth, truth beauty
Love is birth, birth love
This is all you know about birth
This is what you need to know of love.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
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An adult is still a child
A child imitates its mother with air.
An adult imitates models to seem fair.
A child imagines a child in a doll
And enjoys tending it with fantasy.
An adult imagines some ones in his
And experience bliss in fantasy.
A child fears and pretends ignorance.
An adult dreads and pretends innocence.
Though old, still a child, I amuse myself
Though wise, still a child, I fool myself.
12.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Intent Of Being Naive
Is it a trait that means that we should be treated as dirt, NO! Should we use you till you have nothing NO! Should we deny you your rights NO! Are you dumb because of it NO! What is being naive? Is it pretending things are simpler then they really are? Or is it not understanding how complex something is? The true question of being naive isn't what it means but its intent. Lieing to yourself or others shouldn't have an excuse such as naive. Now on the other if its true lack of understanding, then you should welcome any educating and we should be happy to do so. And we shouldn't associate being naive as stupidity unless there is no willingness to learn. Then its more then naive its ignorance and denial rolled into one. Am I willing learn yes. Will I ask question when I don't know yes. Will take a stand on what I believe with an open mind yes. Will I debate with someone I believe to be naive without the intent of denial yes. Being naive just means you got something to learn. Are you willing? or Are you in denial? Huh?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Love in Words
Naive little things, words,
yet so effective when strung together
breathing romance
and fading loneliness
between the lines
with words in pastel strokes
joined in just the right way.
A writer's thoughts
whether fact or fiction
become another's hopes,
and the words find their way
to a reader's heart as surely
as petals dropped in a forest
mark the way home again.
I love you's bloom, only to fade
by truths revealed in even more words.
Can we fall in love through poetry?
I believe we can,
through the pure naivete of words.
A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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Jesus Born On This Day
Today a child is born on earth
Today a child is born on earth
Today the glory of God
Shines everywhere
For all the world
[Chorus:]
Oh Jesus born on this day
He is our light and salvation
Oh Jesus born on this day
He is the King of all nations
Behold the Lamb of God has come
Behold the Lamb of God has come
Behold the Savior is born
Sing of His love
To everyone
[Chorus]
Today our hearts rejoice in him
Today our hearts rejoice in him
Today the light of His birth
Fills us with hope
And brings peace on earth
[Chorus]
Today a child is born on earth
Today a child is born on earth
He is light
song performed by by Mariah Carey from Merry Christmas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crazy Jane On God
That lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Banners choke the sky;
Men-at-arms tread;
Armoured horses neigh
In the narrow pass:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
I had wild jack for a lover;
Though like a road
That men pass over
My body makes no moan
But sings on:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Before their eyes a house
That from childhood stood
Uninhabited, ruinous,
Suddenly lit up
From door to top:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Oh, that lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What We Become
Is it what we see
and learn as a child
that defines what we become
or is it what we see
and learn as an adult
Or is our path
already made for us
before we are even born
Did we ever
have a choice
of what we become
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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My true story about myself
People stop ordering me around. I am only one person, yet you treat me like I am twelve people. I can only do one thing at a time. I am sorry I am really slow. I am only a child, I'm still trying to be kid while I have a chance. But, you see you people give me the responsibility of an adult. I am tired of ruining my plans, to do adult things. I don't want a perfect childhood but I would like a nice one where I would be able to do teenager things. I want to be a normal child, even if I am not. You people are driving me crazy with all these do this, do that. I'm sorry, but if this a normal childhood, I rather be dead. I feel like that when I try to talk nobody could hear me. I could scream and nody would hear me. I am invisable. Besides who would want to see a girl who has no mother, a father she never sees, who is a nobody, who can't make a difference, who is hideous, who can't do anything right, who is ashamed for everything she is? Sometimes I think about killing myself, actually I do it a lot. It's just I am so tired of being used. I am used one way or the other. I always wonder what would happen if I die. Would anybody care? Would anybody even notice? NO! Yes I know I made mistakes. but isn't the point of life, is make mistakes and learn from them. I know I made a lot, but I would never take any of them back. I don't care anymore about what other people say. I am just so tired of this. I can't live like this much longer. There has to be a change, and quick. To tell you the truth, I even thought about running away. I don't know where I would go. I do know is that I would never return. I'm sick of having responsibility of an adult, and everybody tells me to be a kid. HOW? When I'm constantly cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, school, school, homework, cleaning, cooking? Can I please have a break once in a while. I am begging you. What did I do to deserve this? I think I have a right to know.
poem by Makayla Straight
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Children's Special...
Every child is born with a gift,
and there is a day to celebrate it.
A child is your treasure given by God,
Be blessed so, and pray to the Lord,
for that child gives you happiness,
Gone are your day's of loneliness.
Childhood does not last,
Every child remembers the past,
It depends on how you groom,
Give the child more than a room.
A child carries an ocean of innocence,
not knowing it's consequence,
does a deed that is not desired,
Many parents have always admired.
Thinking of a day for children,
is a wonderful thought,
Cherish every moment of what they have brought,
to you with their playful minds,
which do leave a trail of joy in your mind.
Remember your own childhood days,
make it more than special today,
make the children feel how good you felt that day,
when you celebrated the children's day,
in your childhood days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi
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Old Child
Child. Old child,
No longer wild;
No longer speaking,
No longer beguiled;
I have become
A quiet old child.
Child. Old child,
No longer cold;
Never an old man,
Always too old;
I have become
An old child tenfold.
Child. Old child,
Forever a child;
Always rethinking,
Always exiled.
I should become
A happy old child.
Child. Old child.
Always soft-spoken;
No longer breaking,
Still being broken;
I have become
An old child, unspoken.
Child. Old child,
No longer bold;
By thinking, rethinking
Of stories untold,
All through my childhood,
I've become... old.
poem by Mihai Cosmescu
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In a Child's Voice
Listen to the voice of a child
You will hear the wisdom of the ages
A book ready to be written
Filled with many unwritten pages
Learn from their innocence
Honestly brutal but real
For they haven’t yet been tarnished
telling you exactly how they feel
So simple yet so wise they speak
feelings never compromised
For whatever words they speak to you
You should not be surprised
Listen to the voice of a child
You can always feel their pain
They will always bring you sunshine
When the world is filled with rain
Their laughter is the music
That comes straight from the heart
So learn to sing their praises
Rejoice in every part
Never let that child within
Escape or get away
For every child is a part of us
Each and every day
Listen to the voice of a child
Hear each and every word
For every question asked of you
From sublime to the absurd
There are many lessons to be taught
And dreams to be realized
We learn from each other every day
Yet we always act surprised
If we listen a little bit closer
You will hear that inner child
A lifetime of knowledge
Mostly tame but occasionally wild
In a world that’s constantly changing
You can always find a choice
In the wisdom of our childhood
You will truly find your voice
poem by William Lindenmuth
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He who joyfully marches in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To E-
Let Folly smile, to view the names
Of thee and me in friendship twined;
Yet Virtue will have greater claims
To love, than rank with vice combined.
And though unequal is thy fate,
Since title deck’d my higher birth!
Yet envy not this gaudy state;
Thine is the pride of modest worth.
Our souls at least congenial meet,
Nor can thy lot my rank disgrace;
Our intercourse is not less sweet,
Since worth of rank supplies the place.
poem by Byron (1802)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I call it a poem
Here we go again with a lesson
Gone are the days of my pen
Going is the era of local tribesmen
Arriving is an unstoppable breed of new women
These words I am typing
Are meant to be enlightening and delighting
My verse is classically glorifying
Above the veritable imagination of feelings
I call it a poem
Since it has style
It is about something, many things or a single item
While it is worth the while for me to file and compile
Evaporating slowly is nature suffocating us with torture
Of ways to endure and rapidly find it a cure
I call it a poem
Because I'm able to express myself to the reader
Construct words into amazing blocks like a builder!
Consider it with gratefulness as your thinking feeder
Capable of quenching the thirst of any gender!
So always think before you bleed as a teamplayer or leader
I call it a poem
As I decide when to be responsible
In painting it simple and making it sensible
Or complex and abstract so my intentions are invisible
Every word, sentence or paragraph is dispensable
On reaching the end of its pinnacle
I call it a poem
When it airs a message so strong
That has been caged for quite long!
Even an earthquake of sarcastic criticism
Cannot stop the desired effect on any citizen
My poem is always about me or you
Sometimes it turns to the old, sometimes the new
With statements that are false or true
It can shape into funny, beautiful, clever or absurd
Take heed, for at the very end, these are merely words!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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When It Comes To Love
Written by billy burnette, dennis morgan, and simon climie.
Push too hard, Ill pack my bags, Im going
Ahh, got to learn to let the river flow
Move too fast, youll end up never knowing
Whats inside my heart, give it time to grow
I need just a little space
Then I wont be afraid
When it comes to love, got to treat it special
When it comes to love, shouldnt be no pressure
When it comes to love, got to take it easy
You cant be too careful, when it comes to love
In your eyes I see a fire burning
Never seen it ever burn so bright
Beneath my feet I feel the earth start turning
Long enough to take my breath away and i
Need to know, what you feel
Got to show, its for real
When it comes to love, got to treat it special
When it comes to love, shouldnt be no pressure
When it comes to love, got to take it easy
You cant be too careful, when it comes to love
When it comes to love
Take it easy
Got to learn to take it slow
When it comes to love
Keep believin
When it comes to love
Give it time, and just let it grow
I need to know, what you feel
Got to show, its for real
When it comes to love, got to treat it special
When it comes to love, shouldnt be no pressure
When it comes to love, got to take it easy
You cant be too careful, when it comes to love
When it comes to love, got to treat it special
When it comes to love, shouldnt be no pressure
When it comes to love, got to take it easy
You cant be too careful, when it comes to love
When it comes to love, its special
When it comes to love, shouldnt be no pressure
When it comes to love, got to take it easy
You cant be too careful, when it comes to love
When it comes to love, its special
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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