I Knocked my Head Against the Wall
As a child
I put my finger in the fire
to become
a saint.
As a teenager
every day I would knock my head against the wall.
As a young girl
I went out through a window of a garret
to the roof
in order to jump.
As a woman
I had lice all over my body.
They cracked when I was ironing my sweater.
I waited sixty minutes
to be executed.
I was hungry for six years.
Then I bore a child,
they were carving me
without putting me to sleep.
Then a thunderbolt killed me
three times and I had to rise from the dead three times
without anyone’s help.
Now I am resting
after three resurrections.
poem by Anna Swirszczynska
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To Be A Child Again
To Be a Child Again by Kenny Davis
I see the children of today
Their smiles take me away
To my times as a child
And the games that I would play
To be a child again
Means to be taken to an imaginary place
Where a box could be a house or race car
Or a ship in outer space
To be a child again
Means Mother is God in my eyes
My father is like my hero
Like Superman in the skies
To be a child again
There are many times, I would smile from ear to ear
I would jump into my parent’s loving arms
With nothing left to fear
To be a child again
Full of bedtime stories and fairy tales
Whether it was Jack and the Beanstalk
Or Jack and Jill with their water pails
To be a child again
My life filled with Mother Goose
The tails of Humpty Dumpty
And Green Eggs and Ham from Dr. Seuss
Now that I have grown
I recall my times as a child
So young, so innocent
So reckless and wild
To be a child again
My parents would wipe away every tear
It is all of those tender moments as a child
That I will always hold dear
© June 2009 k.davis
poem by Kenneth Davis
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Knock Three Times
Hey,girl
What are you doing down there?
Dancing alone every night
While I live right above you.
I can hear your music playing,
I can fell your body swaying,
One floor below me,
You don't even know me,
I love you.
Oh,darling,knock three times on the ceiling if you want me
Twice on the pipe if the answer is no.
Oh,my sweetness,(knock)means you'll meet me in the hallway,
Twice on the pipe means you ain't gonna show.
If you look out your window tonight,
Pull in the string with the note
That's attached to my heart,
Read how many times I saw you,
How in my silence I adore you,
And only in my dreams
Did that wall between us come apart.
Oh,darling,knock three times on the ceiling if you want me
Twice on the pipe if the answer is no.
Oh,my sweetness,(knock)means you'll meet me in the hallway,
Twice on the pipe means you ain't gonna show.
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Is Mother Nature Keeper of Our Lives!
She stands upon the shores of time
Contemplating the rhythm of time
She bends slowly like a graceful swan
To dip her hands into the cool essence of life
She watches the ripples as they flicker through the water
Cascading into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years
Generating the life of a child she watches
As it grows from baby to toddler to young child
Then onto turbulent years of teenager and young adult
The ripples cascading through the years
As the child becomes a man/woman
She gasps at how the flow of life shifts into the ripples of time
She watches as the ripples decide what fate beholds them next
She smiles at souls as it changes their hues of colours to blend with life
She is the essence that all there is
She is a beauty within
She is Mother Nature the keeper of our Lives
poem by Kaila George
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Driven Memories: Howling Dog
Driven memories
Back
To the now
That isn’t any more........
As a child
In the blue-dark London night,
On a car roof by my bedroom window,
A dog howled liftingly,
Split jaws snapping my sleep.
Sick so young,
That already a dog cried Death
Over my bed and murdered sleep?
I hid in the safe-cave under the blanket
And waited for corruption.
poem by Roy William Gotaas
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I Am Responsible.... (Poet's Heart)
i am responsible....
for the child dying of starvation,
whatever color, whatever country.
for the young Muslim child alone,
his family killed by the bombs.
for the addict shaking on the street corner,
for the young girl selling her body
on that same corner.
for the family kicked out of their house,
who have nowhere to go.
for the young angry men in prison,
for the victims of the crimes.
for the stink of poverty,
and the abuse of wealth.
for the planes, the bombs,
the guns and the flags...
for the political prisoners who spoke out.
for the elderly going without food and lights,
trying to pay for their medicine.
for the victims of racism and prejudice,
and those that wave that banner.
for the preacher, the thief,
the murderer, and the lost....
for the woman treated as less.
for the young man who commits suicide,
and for those that caused his desperation.
for the immigrant killed crossing the border,
hoping against hope for his family.
for the 'moral' who cant feel,
for those who feel, those who suffer.
for the bones of those we've killed
on our journey to civilization.
for the Jew, the Christian,
the Hindu, the Muslim, and the Buddhist...
of equal worth and value.
for the atheist, the doubter, the searcher,
and those who question all.
for the man, the woman, and the child.
for the sins of the past,
and the path to the future.
i am responsible...
because i am human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Every Child!
the faces of...
every child who'll
go to bed hungry tonite...
every child afraid to sleep
for fear of the soldiers,
the bullets, the bombs....
every child abused
by his parents...
every child humiliated
for being different.
every child who's never
known his own father...
every child with no hope
for an education...
every child sleeping
in homeless cars.
every child alone,
lonely, without love.
every child of every broken home,
every child, every color, every country...
staring at me this sleepless night,
tearing at my heart...
all my children!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Missed Childhood
I missed out on having a childhood
went from a little girl to womanhood.
I think the way my parents raised their children
was only the best of what they're parents could.
I always felt like their Cinderella
always cleaning, ironing and straightening up it seemed.
Taking care of my little sisters and brother
never spending time to be just that child which I need.
I always felt that I had missed out on something
and searched for that missing link throughout my life.
Been married too many times to speak of
been a mother to two sons and a loving wife.
I always promised myself not to repeat
what and how I had been raised.
But to give my sons all of my love
with Respect and Love and Praise.
To allow them to be a child
the best child that they could be.
And always keep myself in check
remembering that missing part of that child in me.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Child Woman, Woman Child
Orbison/dees
Coo coo, thats you, wonder why I love you, you do voodoo, thunder clouds above you
Crazy, kooky, lazy spooky, oh what a clown, always around
And I have found youre a woman. child woman. woman child
Long legged woman when I see you walking you look good
Hey little woman when I hear you talking you sound good
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
Youre into my mind then youre out of my mind child woman
You wind and unwind my mind, time after time child woman ooh child woman, yeah child woman
Flying uptight, dont know where youre going, trying your kite when the wind is blowing
Funny lady, sunny, shady off to the fair, sun in your hair
Oh, youre aware youre a woman child woman, woman child
Strong minded woman when you start groovin you look fine
My kind of woman when you start movin you look fine
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
I dont see you there, I see you everywhere child woman
I dont even care -yes, I really do care child woman, ooh child woman,
Hey child woman child woman, woman child
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hungry Years
Would you still love me, if just perhaps
The roof above our heads should suddenly collapse
Would you still take me, for what I am
If I had nothin
This hearts an engine, its running lean
Im down to skin and bone and still Im fightin clean
Do you share this vision, this reckless dream
Like the day we met.
If we work together we can pull this train
Cant wait forever for the winds of change
Will you stand beside me like you did before
When the storm is at the window
And the wolf is at the door
*these are the hungry years
Stand up and face your fears
Your faith can fight these tears
These are the hungry years*
Sometimes I watch you as you sleep
So safely unaware we might be in to deep
I hide my feelings behind these shades
Like you dont see
And if we pull together we can make this climb
With a love as tough as these desperate times
Will you stand beside me like you did before
Now the storme is at the window
And the wolf is at the door
( * repeat)
Do you remember the feelings we had
Baby, the first time we touched
Is there a way to find it again
Girl is that asking too much - too much
song performed by by Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ride Child Ride
Well Im sitting here this evening
Ive got some old friends on my mind, yeah I do
Yeah, me and slick and davy saluting mr. daniels
For the very first time
We was jamming to old jimi, singing purple haze,
No doubt, no, no
I think between weed and whiskey
My head went north and man, my feet went south
We had some good times,
And man do I remember them well
Those days are long gone,
But now I got to tell you just how we left some stories to tell
Chorus:
Ride, child ride
Hell we had some good times then
Ride, child, ride
Sometimes I need those times again
Do you remember when?
Remember all our big talk,
How we were going to be president, one day, baby
How we were going to save the whole world
But man, I got to tell you lord,
Didnt have a clue back then
We had some good times,
And man do I remember them well
Those days are long gone,
But now I got to tell you just how we left some stories to tell
Chorus
Ride, child, ride
Hell, we had some good times then
Ride, child ride
Sometimes I need those times again
Ride, child ride
Hell, we had some good times then
Ride, child, ride
Take me back there, man, do you remember when?
song performed by by Poison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heartless World
She was lying
Bleeding and crying
She lost her little son
In a car accident
A luxury car with a beautiful woman
Killed the innocent child
Of this poor homeless woman
A white cute dog was
Peeping out the car
And
I was standing like a lifeless beast
Nearby the dead child
And, trying to get
The difference of destiny
Between the cute dog, and
The dead little child
Nobody came to
The crying mother
With a word of sympathy
For
This is a selfish and
heartless world.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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Miguel
Never had much to say
He traveled alone with no friends
Like a shadowy ghost
At dawn he came and he went
Through the woodland swiftly gliding
To the young maid he came gliding
Where shed run to meet him
By the garden wall
Oh my sweet miguel
I will never tell
No one will ever know
What I know too well
And hed smile and lay his head on her breast
And hed say I have no fear
Theyre waiting for me to cross the border, to swim the river
But Ive done that before
To see my true loves smiling face
A hundred times or more
Oh my sweet miguel she cried
Ill love you till I die
He was born to the south
In mexico they say
The child of a man
Who had soon gone away
But his mother loved him dearly
And she would take him yearly
To the great cathedral in st. augustine
Oh my young miguel
Listen to the bell
Of my poverty
You must never tell
And he cried himself to sleep in the night
And he vowed to make things right
So he took the gun down from the wall and he paid a call
He knew shed understand
A lawman came to capture him
The gun jumped in his hand
Oh miguel the mother cried
You must run son or youll die
So the story is told
Of his true love cross the line
As strong as the oak
And as sweet as the vine
And the child she bore him
Came on that fateful mornin
When they sent him to his final rest
Oh my sweet miguel
Listen to the bell
No one will ever know
What I know too well
And shed smile and lay the child on her breast
And shed say I have no fear
Im waiting for you to cross the border, to swim the river
cause youve done that before
To see your true loves smiling face
A hundred times or more
Oh my sweet miguel she cried
Ill love you till I die
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am.... (The Branch, Part Two)
i am...
the orphaned child and the abandoned dog,
the woman raped, the young man killed.
i am the body hanging alone and cold,
the old woman shaking in an empty room.
i am the young girl taken and enslaved,
the needle, the spoon, and the revolver.
i am black skinned, brown skinned anger,
and the bones of bodies hidden...
the speaker of truth detained and tortured,
the invisible trail left behind.
i am...
the rage of jobless, homeless, hopeless...
the unemployment line and the sweat shop.
i am the family living in a stolen car,
and the child who runs away.
i am the store clerk killed by the robber,
her minimum wage death unnoticed.
i am the shadow crossing the border,
the inmate that breaks and runs.
i am the guns silenced,
and the lies revealed...
i am human rebellion.
i am the branch covered by leaves,
waiting for certain autumn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Child of Then
I lay down on my living room floor
Convinced that the world would end.
A crisis off Cuba with missiles in route.
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
A lady in pink with blood on her dress.
A President shot in the head
I remember where I was exactly that day
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
Police battle Blacks, Watts is in flames
Protests rage on without end.
King is dead at the hand of a bigoted man
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
Camelots heir sought to bind up the wounds
Then Sirhan Sirhan shot him dead.
Bobby bled out on the kitchen tiled floor
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
Asian girl running, naked, on a dirt country road.
A Viet Cong man shot in the head
Fifty Eight Thousand names on a wall
Yes, I am a Child of Then.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Ironing
I like the smell of ironing
It makes me think of home,
Of when I was a youngster
Long before I'd writ' a poem.
That sense of real security
Remembered as a dream,
Embedded in mum's ironing-board
And floating in the steam.
The swishing, easy movement
Was always just the same,
It lulled me to the edge of sleep
While whispering my name.
The pile of clothes was endless
It must have been a chore
To have us kids supplying it,
Not one or two, but FOUR.
There is no smell like ironing
The scent is all it's own,
I liked it when I was a child,
I like it now I've grown.
And when the time for ironing
The clothes again does come,
I'll take in that unique perfume
And think again of mum.
Written Feb 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
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If Not All
mountain...
hawk,
tree,
newborn child,
dying old man,
fire in a clearing,
moonlight reflected through a window....
the prisoner,
a vagrant man,
the immigrant crossing the border....
the young woman giving birth,
starlight on wet grasses,
the prisoner walking
to his own execution....
an agnostic,
a heretic,
and a pilgrim....
a child of god,
a child of darkness....
which am i?
if not all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Shes On Fire
Oh, shes on fire
Oh, shes on fire
Hot to trot, shes a bit insane
Little bit of pleasure
With a little bit of pain
I got to be smokin
So I know without a doubt
Where theres the smoke
Theres the fire, so I gotta boot it out
Say oh, shes on fire
Oh, shes on fire
Only child with a hang down lip
Starve for love and you pay your chip
Little by little, catch enough to me
Shes more of a woman
And I thought shed be to me
Hungry girl, shes a city slick
Sayin the one, on a losin stick
Shes on fire
She chop my head on a guillotine
Shes my flame, shes a feather my chief
Shes on fire
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleeper
Sleep that half dead,
sleep the body not the head.
Sleep that bad said,
Poor owns that bed,
Dreams are found on that herd.
Sleep while awake,
Sleep that dead not closed eye fake.
Sleep that weak,
Tommorow u gona take.
Eat that sleep and enjoy its steak.
Sleep still stands,
None to overtake.
Sleep that height dare for cake.
Sleep that stress and have the bless,
Sleep to confess as she do to embrance,
Sleep for paid cash as he do to love false.
Sleep that sleep as no one sleep ever deep.
Sleep that better as no other sleeper.
Wear that sweater as did Brother Peter,
Sleep that firm to dream that greater,
Sleep not slopy arrise all the weaker.
poem by Abdallah Mpogole
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Sacred Flame (A tale of the Neanderthals) l
The newcomers killed my woman,
Ransacked my cave and killed my child.
My brother and I had been out hunting,
The only reason we’re still alive.
We noticed first as we drew closer
The sacred fire had gone out.
We dropped our catch and sniffed the air-
When I smelled blood I grabbed my axe.
My spirit dropped, my heart was saddened
My woman and my child lay dead
The newcomers had speared the baby
A club caved in my woman’s head.
My brother took the child to bury
I built a rock cairn for my mate
I stroked her matted hair in sadness
I stoked the fire of my hate.
From outside I heard my brother
Bellowing his battle cry
Four newcomers were attacking
I grabbed my spear and let it fly.
My aim was true, my man was gutted
My brother crushed another’s skull.
The other two ran short on courage
They fled as we stood side by side.
We too must flee, the caves’ unsafe-
And they’ll be back in force besides
We looked back at the cave in sadness
As we bid our home good bye
The ashes in our cave are cooling
Throughout Europa its’ the same
So many of my people dying
Who will tend the sacred flame?
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Hostage
Cohabiting:
my poems make me sad.
You reflect the times
my body leaves the wound marks on sand.
Again I had gone to my tattered home
to sleep under the moon.
There was only a small window.
I would look at the stars whole night –
to conceive and jump into a lake
of synthetic fathers and hired wombs.
The grieving faith now holds you responsible.
O god, in reverse order, become a man.
poem by Satish Verma
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