Deutschland
Through the grill of my cell
I see children playing.
Pinned there, shrinking there,
prison-years… torture-years…
Germany,
your sons will
no longer play
as children.
poem by Ernst Toller
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Related quotes
Ghost Sutra
Children, children, play on the grounds.
For years will pass and you will feel the bound.
Row your boat down the endless way.
Dreams of dreams covers the grey day.
Conform or die is what we live.
A simple way to lie and give.
They made up stories that they fed.
So play on children you're already dead.
poem by Khembottra Oum
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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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Early Works -Years
Children playing with their toys
dotted around the floor
peer at you with questioning eyes
as if you are a stranger in their lair.
At work all day and out of sight
but never out of mind
the only time your presence felt
is when its time to go to bed.
Oh, if work were only a dream
more time you could spend with them
playing games and being a father and a friend,
but to live you must work, toil all the day
missing the years in which your children play.
6 November 1978
poem by David Harris
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Play Children Play
I came home late one night,
In my door stood my daughter-in-law,
Park your car, I have something to tell you,
As I entered the door, she said, "Mother left today."
Play children play, your mother left today.
There is no where for a writer to start,
When his wife leaves and breaks her children's heart,
When she walked out, she never said good by,
No one has ever known why.
Play children play, today your Mother went away.
Many things we planned to do that day,
For no reason she just walked away,
Twenty years has past and gone,
Some how we took care of our home,
You children have married, but still alone.
Play children play, for the day your Mother went away.
poem by Kenneth McKinley Davis
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50
Years ago you climbed the mango tree
On an alibi to see both of them
They talked in the sala of your house
And went inside your room
After they kissed
You did not wait for reason
Before they
Can undress
You shot him dead
You spared her
Your wife because you loved her
15 years in prison
You were released to find yourself
In this bigger prison
Without love
All that you can find in her
And her children are barbed wires
Uncle John, tell me
Which do you prefer now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Uncle John
Years ago you climbed the mango tree
On an alibi to see both of them
They talked in the sala of your house
And went inside your room
After they kissed
You did not wait for reason
Before they
Can undress
You shot him dead
You spared her
Your wife because you loved her
15 years in prison
You were released to find yourself
In this bigger prison
Without love
All that you can find in her
And her children are barbed wires
Uncle John, tell me
Which do you prefer now?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Happy Man
When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
Though I be among the dead,
Let no mournful word be said.
Children that I leave behind,
And their children, all were kind;
Near to them and to my wife,
I was happy all my life.
My three sons I married right,
And their sons I rocked at night;
Death nor sorrow never brought
Cause for one unhappy thought.
Now, and with no need of tears,
Here they leave me, full of years,--
Leave me to my quiet rest
In the region of the blest.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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PC Games
PC Games are children's favorite nowadays
Oh! those days have gone
When children used to play in the fields
They used to play football, cricket and hockey...
Now children are busy playing PC games
Various games like Farm Ville, City ville, Empire Earth, San Andreas, Age of Empires etc
Some of them are so addicted to it
They don't study
But others are exceptional
Playing those PC games are harmful for eyes, health etc
Those games are 3D and 2D...
PC games...
What about those old games?
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children's children say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done.
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Unseen Playmate
When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,
His is a picture you never could draw,
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big,
'T is he that inhabits the caves that you dig;
'T is he when you play with your soldiers of tin
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'T is he, when at night you go off to your bed,
Bids you go to sleep and not trouble your head;
For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,
'T is he will take care of your playthings himself!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Youth
The chair seldom rocks,
The music has been thrown away
All the toys have been broken
And the laughs have gone away.
Across an ancient playground
Where the children once did play
I no longer see or hear them laugh
The Children have all gone away.
The swings they no longer swing
The trees stand ancient and bare
And the birds they no longer sing
For the children are no longer there.
I close an attic window
As I take off a childish mask
And as I think, the tears do flow
As I wished again, youth had last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free.
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twice Hail
Twice Hail
To the children
Of the place of the dawn
Hail, to the children
Twice children of the sun
Hail dark brown forms
You are the vertebrae
Its pristine strength
Has an intelligence soul
That knows the millions of years
Of the heavenly row boat.
Children of the sky scrappers
Children of the corn
Hail the great God
Who suffer no destruction
Exalted one, adored
By the coming forth
Of the souls of children
Who can say
The God of my God
In an intelligent way.
poem by David E. Patton
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Police Cell
I'm sitting in a police cell
but my mind is in hell
They know I'm mentally ill
they know i'm going to say
what they want to hear
Lie after lie
I dig the hole deeper
making sure I destroy my life
They sit and smile
taking it all down
They don't care
i'm an innocent man
They sent me to prison
for another man
But twenty years on
they could not have known
that I would rise again
prove my innocence
and send them down
Twenty years have passed
and I can still smell
the despair in that police cell
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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This Changing World
This changing world...
where children hear
not only the voice of their mother
where children eat
not only the food that their mother cooked
where children sing
not only the songs of their native tongue
where children no longer play
with butterflies outdoor...
We need to be more stronger
more wiser
more confident
more understanding
more loving
more caring
and more connected
to one another
to make this changing world
a better place to live
for our children.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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They Did The Best They Could
Those who say,
They can not understand...
Why their children lack respect and discipline,
Will always say they did the best they could...
To raise them to be good children.
But the teaching to them to be responsble men,
And women accountable for their actions?
Well...many with children are too busy,
Wanting their children to see them as their friends.
And not examples of adults to set for them.
'And...
How many children do you have? '
None.
'OH?
And you think you can speak on this,
From a position of authority? '
No.
I speak from a position of having peace of mind.
I will never be envious of those emotionally manipulated,
For the rest of their lives.
However...
I have often wanted grandchildren.
'But...
Wouldn't you have to have children FIRST? '
And that one 'detail' alone...
Is the reason why,
I chose to keep my peace of mind.
'It's never too late you know? '
Didn't you just hear me say,
I chose to keep my peace of mind,
Over sitting in a prison cell for the rest of my life?
'No.
I didn't hear that last statement.'
It came to me quickly as a vision.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Faery Song
Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.
We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Gie to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Changed Landscape
the map of
the country is changing
stores close
new roads are constructed
you leave years ago
the people close to you
wave their hands
wishing you luck
in another country
you lost
good luck was not in your side
when you come back
they are no longer there
you do not know the names
of the streets
they change it years back
the children playing softball
in the field
do not bother
a stranger is watching the game
but not cheering
houses fade
rivers become dry
mass housing projects mushroom
you look for the past cafe where
you had coffee with her
it is no longer there
malls crowd
you go into vast window shopping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Todays Reality
I long to hear that sound again
The happy voices of children,
of children playing happily.
I must rely on memory.
My fledglings from the nest have flown
and they have children of their own
But alas they are too far away
to hear their children at their play.
We’ve reached another stage in life,
There’s only me and my good wife.
I care for her she cares for me
exactly as it ought to be.
It’s sad but true we only see
our grandchildren infrequently.
(7-Aug-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Like Children
Can we run through the field like children?
Two adults playing tag.
Can we find a stream like children?
...Skip stones to see how far far is.
Can we climb a tree like children?
Sit on a limb and enjoy the view.
Can we roll in the grass like children?
Tumbling over one another.
Can we forget our cares like children?
Laughing with joy for no reason at all.
poem by Patti Wilburn
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