A grownup is a child with layers on.
quote by Woody Harrelson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A grownup is a child with layers on.
quote by Paxton Blair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Child Within
Down inside this grownup
Lives a child that used to be
When I look into a mirror
She stares right back at me
Now that I’m a grownup
It’s an older face I see
The child’s still there, hiding
Way down deep inside of me
Sometimes we work together
That little girl and me
She comes out of her hiding place
And we write poetry
I like being grownup
I wouldn’t wanna swap
Well...
Maybe a little younger face
With no grey hair on top
By C.J. Heck
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outgrowing Childhood
Child you will grow tall
You will grow big
Instead of being a doll
You'll be in grownup's league!
Child you will grow smart
You will grow sly
Losing innocence of heart
You'll no more be a butterfly!
Child you will grow high
You will grow tough
A hardened guy
You'll be a different stuff!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Layers
Above are layers of atmosphere, stratosphere,
Below layers of topsoil, rock and clay,
People in layers rich and poor,
Cities built on top of cities, on top of cities.
Layers of thought conscious to unconscious,
Felt in layers asleep to awake,
In a dream of a dream, of a dream in a dream,
In a dream of a dream, in a dream.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take A Pick For The Moment
we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure
and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize
the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth
how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?
when you tell me that
i am myself.
there is no self.
There is no us.
There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now
Like a fruit basket
all fresh on top of your table.
Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.
For the moment.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Layers And Layers
we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure
and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize
the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth
how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?
when you tell me that
i am myself.
there is no self.
There is no us.
There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now
Like a fruit basket
all naked on top of your table.
Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.
For the moment.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Island Fever
Island fever
I think Ive got a touch of island fever
I do believe I feel a bit sauteed
This morning I was just some nonbeliever
Tonight I feel Ive joing a wild crusade
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I cant believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think Ill take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the caribbean sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think Ive got a touch of island fever...
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Either/or
either you go
and run free like
a child bathing
naked under the rain
or you wear all your
underwears
and coats and masks
and you hide inside
your room and lock
all your windows
and doors
and disconnect
the electric current
from your doorbell
these are layers and
layers of choices
but whatever that is
that you pick from the rest
that is still poetry to me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time always seems long to the child who is waiting - for Christmas, for next summer, for becoming a grownup: long also when he surrenders his whole soul to each moment of a happy day.
quote by Dag Hammarskjold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A child's fear is a world whose dark corners are quite unknown to grownup people; it has its sky and its abysses, a sky without stars, abysses into which no light can ever penetrate.
quote by Julien Green
Submitted by Simona Enache
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There Is A Happy Land
There is a happy land where only children live
They dont have the time to learn the ways
Of you sir, mr. grownup
Theres a special place in the rhubarb fields underneath the leaves
Its a secret place and adults arent allowed there, mr. grownup
Go away, sir
Charlie brown gots half a crown, hes gonna buy a kite
Jimmys ill with chicken pox, and tommys learned to ride his bike
Tiny tim sings prayers and hymns, hes so small we dont notice him
He gets in the way but we always let him play with us
Mother calls, but we dont hear
Theres lots more things to do
Its only 5 oclock, and were not tired yet
But we will be, very shortly
Sissy steven plays with girls, someone made him cry
Tony climbed a tree and fell, trying hard to touch the sky
Tommy lit a fire one day, nearly burned the field away
Tommys mum found out, but he put the blame on me and ray
There is a happy land where only children live
Youve had your chance and now the doors are closed sir, mr. grownup
Go away, sir
Boo, boo, boo, boo doop ...
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So many layers
every poem
i wrote
a part of me
taken off
a butterfly
leaving behind
its larvae
to take on wings
and colours
to explore the world
to give world
another layer
to fascinate over
van gogh
that shed
so many layers
to bring out
those layers
on his canvas
to our hearts
layers of pains,
tears, and......
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those layered Cakes
yesterday i passed by
my childhood stall by the road;
what an experience it was!
that woman in her 30s i used to see,
now only her creased forehead and face
to add another dimension between us.
how sweet her layered little squarish
suntan cakes still tasted;
those layers that i peeled off
piece by piece to savour their charms.
and as i peeled the women gave me
that more mature and
deeply heartstirring smile
that tore through the distance
between us as if each layer i had peeled carried a story of her own life.
those years of experiences
now seen in phases,
like the layers of her cake.
the child in me leapt up again.
i left behind what
have separated us
to present the innocent smile
we used to give each other.
momentarily we lived
those days when i was a child
and she a young woman.
those childhood years
when we saw people as what they were.
those childhood years
when our smiles, love
were a fountain spring of ourselves
until the days when growing up
added different shades
of feelings and thoughts
to our relationships.
i hate the layer
those creases and wrinkles
laid in me.
i prefer to see them
as a child
where she would probably be
the wise woman in some cartoon film.
how those cakes would never
be the same again.
how i loved those pink and white layers,
the pink and white that had always
carried a fairy tale behind them.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Hiding Place
as a child i was hurt
hurt so deeply with nowhere to tell how hurt i was once
with no other place to bury my tears
to shout my fears
there were no skies above me
there was no moon to confide
there were only walls
i have grown up
through layers and layers of silence
thick silence thicker than the earth of million years
strong and big and always
keen and piercing the walls that i have been used to
i have seen more about life's pains
and felt the dangers
that i have escaped and survived
i have become a man
and found this hiding place
my poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grownup
(carly simon)
I stood in the doorway in my white nightgown
Red roses on cotton, I stood three feet from the ground
The grownups inside used words I didnt know
But still I enjoyed the show
They looked so lovely, they looked so self-assured
And I just like them would know it all when I matured
And I wouldnt be afraid of the darkness or the bears
Or the cracks in the ceiling upstairs
Now Ive just gotten older, Ive just gotten taller
And the little ones, they call me a grownup
Lat night at a friends house a little girl was there
She stood in the doorway playing with her hair
She looked up to me as if I could do no wrong
As I got up to sing my song
I sang it with a shiver in my throat and in my knees
Feeling just as small as a thistle in a breeze
But the childs imagination carried me along
And saw me through my song
Now Ive just gotten older, Ive just gotten taller
And the little ones call me a grownup
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Someday perhaps I'll have to get a grownup job... but for now I'm having too much fun being a reporter.
quote by Andrea Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layers Of Wet Paint Applied
wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
technique requires rapid working
fevered fast compulsive genius painting
art in realms born in new mind expressions
art in realms born in space time multiversity visions
art work fever finished before first layers have dried
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The older the layers, the more each of them is uniform over a great extent; the newer the layers, the more they are limited and subject to variation within small distances.
quote by George Cuvier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seven Layers of Heaven
touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
smell
....
....
seven layers
of heaven
set in me
two more
layers
lost in
myself
clouded
in the views
cast by the world
heaven
comes in
seven
layers
so say hindus,
chinese,
buddhists,
even the muslims
and hell?
between
all
the senses
the heart
that torments
the doers
for
his misdeeds
the fugitive
who manages
to run away from
everybody
but not
the burning hell
of conscience
that pokes
at his top
making him bleed
at the heart
day and night
hell and heaven
bound in this
frame of
heart, soul
and mind
a living hell?
the heaven
in seven layers
the other two layers?
sixth sense?
seventh sense?
two puzzles
that wait
for an answer
hidden
in the realms
that circle
around me
i look into the sky
and journey
to the
eternal sphere
that joins me
to the moons, stars
try taking me
out of this world
and it sure looks different
feel different
a whole new world
the seventh sense
seventh heaven
the sixth?
the woman
who digs
deep into
layers of her own mind
to find the dates
of her own death
and exciting upcoming events
of the world, the tsunami
third world war,
end of the world
a nostradamus
a hell in between all these?
the scorn
from bigots
two layers
of heaven that got lost
in me
covered by
the clouds
five is perhaps
a more lucky number
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being a grownup means assuming responsibility for yourself, for your children, and - here's the big curve - for your parents.
quote by Wendy Wasserstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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