Let Children Be
With eyes of lapis lazuli,
And laughter soaked with unbound joy,
And spirit bold and thoughts carefree,
My role is just to let her be.
To play and act and float and flounce,
But nurture her with every ounce, .
Without control but steadfastly,
Avow anew to let her be.
So that one day she may decree,
She lived with childhood liberty,
To roar aloud 'hey look at me'
My parents chose to let me be.
poem by Greg Costello
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Related quotes
Lapis Lazuli
The testimony of the blue
It paints the king and queen
The royal dresses
And a never completely sung
Jewel of the word
Lapis lazuli
Ink spilled into
Rorschach spots on the eye
It observes the blue at the bottom of the blue
The edges of the sky it paints in blue
And all the colours of the blue
Rising from the ground
Lapis lazuli
Seals the hands boughed in hope
The feet that go down to the root of soil
The eyes that open the butterfly restlessness
And the hair swaying on the scales of freedom
Lapis lazuli
Is the colour that walks
Within the sacred number
From one to two that makes three
In verse never completely sung
Jewel of diversity
In the strength of unity
A throne that can never be dethroned
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thought Broadcasting
Silence is a silver ship
Traveling at the speed of the darkness,
Black holes are the edifices in which I
Build my thoughts-
Word by word,
Each and every syllable forms upon my lips,
And then broadcasted, aloud-
Thoughts are killers- thoughts can harm-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
Within this room I write my thoughts
With a pen that is void of ink, or a pencil
That has no lead,
Invisible they are, but somehow,
These thoughts are broadcasted aloud.
Thoughts are killers thoughts control-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
A silver ship with its sail to the wind,
A wild horse that canters across vast terrain, or
Pebbles that roll off of my fingertips,
That splash into the creek, one by one,
You can see, you can hear, as
My thoughts, broadcasted aloud.
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
My thoughts are a flame that only I can quench.
I am in control of what comes into my mind,
As my hands build the world from
The bricks of Time,
My thoughts control the world.
My thinking destroys those, whom I abhor,
My thoughts control the downtrodden.
Silence is a silver ship, or
The dome beneath which I dwell-
I build my edifice beneath this dome.
No one dares to enter, as
I have broadcasted a message to the world,
My eyes order the world away;
My thoughts are broadcasted aloud,
A bad thought can destroy, as good ones
Create and control,
My thoughts control the world…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Strange Twists In Parent Echo
strange twists in reality role reversal parenthood
parents observe children in flower spring childhood
children when parents long live may observe parent
in time glimpse scenarios second childhood twilight
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Colour By Numbers
When I looked in your eyes
Felt the spirit of man
Demanding more than just a smile
Took a chance for a while
Speaking in tongues
That float us down rivers
The past will remind us
All colours we chose
When I told you those lies
Felt the spirit of love
Demanding more than comprimise
Took a chance for a while
Speaking in tongues
That float us down rivers
The past will remind us
All colours we chose
Some people say that the way that we live
Is out of this place
And some people say that the way that we live
Is blinded by fate
All colours we chose
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The guy in the photograph
Out of the old tin frame
the 1944, I guess, photo, shines
a carefree smile from the 15-year-old
caught on a hillside in the summer air
in pure happiness..or so it images..
It’s the only photo from the album
that I like to have around; I look at it
and marvel that I ever looked like that
for more than one unguarded moment..
Is the story of my childhood that I tell myself,
the agonies of growing up, the uncertainties,
the discovery that parents are not perfect…
the not knowing who one really is…or might be…
all that, a fiction, or a fraction of the truth?
From time to time, I glance at it,
(as my parents must have done,
with all the thoughts that I’ll now never know) :
accept its mute challenge of beauty, goodness, truth…
he's expecting all that life may offer;
this is the guy I must keep faith with…
what else is there to say?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Beautiful blue
beautiful blue diamonds bring
a lapis lazuli angel clad
and bread of golden yeast
breading the words of mouth
on lips so dry and hair too tied
to wear off the silence in heart purified
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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T For Into The Blue
To Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, Artist.
To Sébastien Tellier, Christ.
Azure heavenly
Cerulean cyan denim
Lapis lazuli
Maya overseas persian
Royal blue sapphire and turquoise.
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Her Lovers Play.
Beatles tunes
And deep maroons
Swirl in my head.
As dancers
Under crescent moon
Twirl round my bed.
As symphony
In a sky blood red,
Starts to play.
And
As I am asking why
Stars just look the other way.
Teardrops
Never dry
Until sun is born.
And love
Will never die
But float alone
Forlorn.
She took a lancet
To my soul.
At first
I felt no pain.
Now waves of agony roll.
Her lovers play,
In which I lived a role
Faded.
With midnight train.
And now I lay
Within this room
A new today.
Another flower to bloom.
Another lovers play.
poem by Kevin East
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Avowal
Rise up o' fearless hearts
On avowal of flourishing refrains
Sown are red and green
Thou energetic wheel to glean
Tranquil in thou heart of peace
Hitherto brawl and blast
Let be blighted no more to last
Avow to thou Mother, Her soul
Integrated in peace to be propitious all
Avow thy weapon of unity
Rise up o' valiant hearts
May thou rage outpour in lots
To plough thou ambrosial land
Manured of those brave hearts laid
To diffuse thou nature of fragrance
Avow o'bold hearts, avow thou might
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Hindoo Girl’s Song
FLOAT on—float on—my haunted bark,
Above the midnight tide;
Bear softly o'er the waters dark
The hopes that with thee glide.
Float on—float on—thy freight is flowers,
And every flower reveals
The dreaming of my lonely hours,
The hope my spirit feels.
Float on—float on—thy shining lamp,
The light of love, is there;
If lost beneath the waters damp,
That love must then despair.
Float on—beneath the moonlight float
The sacred billows o'er:
Ah, some kind spirit guards my boat,
For it has gained the shore.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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The Naked Truth
Have you ever wondered?
Why the Sun sets, from the east?
It’s the sign, where I leave my heart,
For the Sun to relay it to you,
In the west
Ad nauseam, the night is where
I leave my eyes to capture you
Like a Lapis Lazuli
You shine the brightest
Amongst the stars
On Earth
I’d be the Botanist
You’re the Campanula
And Knapweed
Fecundating, I grow you
To be closer
To me
You seem very buxom
I’m not here to adjudicate
You’re ineffable
I’ve become the malapropism
I want you
Like the river needs
The ocean
Like the moon needs
The night
We’re conjoined twins
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Oil And Blood
In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli
Bodies of holy men and women exude
Miraculous oil, odour of violet.
But under heavy loads of trampled clay
Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood;
Their shrouds are bloody and their lips are wet.
poem by William Butler Yeats (1928)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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0010 The Great Release
We begin by loving our parents,
(said the famous author) :
later we judge them;
rarely, if ever, do we forgive them…
a jaundiced view?
we remember (most of the fortunate) that childhood, once,
was bliss, and life was full and endless
and lived entirely in the present,
skies were blue, or rain meant indoor play;
and happiness and joy was always ours..
and yet, we blame our parents…
violently; or gently; or with unspoken qualifications…
made me do this; held this from me;
gave me too little attention; breathed down my neck too much...
the list goes on; the grudge; the shoulder-chip;
what secret solace that such misery affords!
we are so justified - our lovely, wilful selves!
suppose we believed, as Hindus do,
that something of us finds its way, at death,
into another body, another destiny,
in order to progress – or is it rather, to return –
to our god-given, blissful nature,
full of all we need;
and thus it follows as the night the day
- and as the death, the life –
that this our present life was dreamed up
by previous faults, yet set
by some divine program of mercy, providence,
to aid us, a Stoic show-jump course
so cunningly set out that we might overcome,
within ourselves, what stands
in our wished, natural, entitled way to bliss..
the inwardly courageous may take this view
to heart; exclaim triumphantly,
this is the life I chose me for myself –
I chose my parents, and all these seeming
outward, self-depriving, abusive things
around my rediscovering self – for, no-one else to blame;
today is now indeed
the first day of my real life;
and singing on our way, rejoice
to be ourselves as we would be
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Sulk
Lapis lazuli:
like a crazy theme of
hostile doctrine,
spawning a fierce battle
of bulge.
It was scary
like a scrawny lizard
climbing on the breasts.
The hoarse retreat of the arm,
when the lamb did not
squeal under the machete.
Poking in frozen mud,
to find the footprints of a mammoth,
when trees were bleeding.
poem by Satish Verma
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Afraid Its Too Late
She sits at the window
All dressed in white
Been a long time since shes cried
Tears called ....tumbling down
She remembers her childhood brown
Shes afraid its too late
She steps out on the porch
Takes a minute from her day
Just like when she was a child
To listen what the wind would say
She was carefree like the children are today
Say, ? ? loves you, wont you come out and play
Shes afraid its too late
When she was a child
She had crowns hiding gold
With such awe, each flower she did hold
And she...the grass beneath her feet
How she hated things that were already late
They took away her laughter
They took away her crown
They said hey girl, you gotta keep your feet on the ground
She said oh, but they are
They say well laughter wont pay your bills
A flower fell from her hand, falling still
They taught her to be respectable
Responsible somehow
They taught her to be in every....
She forgot how it felt to have leaves of grass beneath her feet
Now every thought screams to return to her childhood royalty
Shes afraid its too late
She takes one last moment
Before going inside
She takes a coat
To dry her eye
She ... and it all becomes clear
Its probably laughter that gets you what you need
....more than here
Shes afraid its too late
La la la la
La la da da laaah
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daphne
She has… had… (which
is the more appropriate word
for those who live on so lively
in one’s human memory? …)
that grace of spirit which you’ll know
from reading, seeing acted out,
let’s say, Jane Austen:
at once as serious about life
as any thinker; yet as light-hearted
as she danced life’s play, that
to meet her, was to dance along
with her pure spirit..
a golden girl; I remember her
reading aloud Jane Austen’s letters,
Fanny Burney’s diaries, as if
she and we were living them together;
Shakespeare surely met her like..
she pretended to the belief
(eyes laughing, daring you to disagree..)
that ‘humour’ derives from ‘guna’…
and, she lived it; her soul, deeply serious;
her spirit, dancing to a merry tune;
acting out the play of life; speaking to the heart…
such are the lives that touch our own,
bless them, light them, lighten them;
may I share this memory of her? *
MS
*[guna: in Hinduism, the three ‘qualities’ of
all true goodness; activity; and rest;
continually swaying and swinging
the play of Creation with their imbalance
from first to last]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Crying Song
We smile and smile
We smile and smile
Laughter echoes in your eyes
We climb and climb
We climb and climb
Footfall softly in the pines
We cry and cry
We cry and cry
Sadness passes in a while
We role and role
We role and role
Help me role away the stone
song performed by by Pink Floyd from More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Ways To Play
Somethin' crossed my mind again
You were in my eyes
It was somewhere out by Bombay
And I'm tellin' all those lies
I've been there and you've been there
And there ain't no mistake
We could take it anyway
But the one thing we can't fake
There's just two ways to play
Just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play
And I'm gonna play it right, this time
Yeah
There's always the easy numbers
There's those hard ways too
There's those cheaters blunders
It's either one of two
But fortune telling's mezmorizing
In the game of chance
But rollin' dice ain't sympathizing
When you play romance
There's just two ways to play
Just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play
I can't control the numbers
I can't control your sexy ways
I can't control my inner thunder
It makes me want????????
Two ways to play
There's Just two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
I'm gonna play it right this time
There's two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
Two ways to play
There's just two ways to play
And I don't want to stay
There's just two ways to play
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wanna Go Too Far
(written by layng martine, jr., kent robbins)
Everything in moderation, thats the way its always been
Never gettin out of control - never hanging it out
Always reelin it in
I saved my money for a rainy day
But now Ive had enough of playin it safe
I wanna go too far, I wanna go too fast
Somebody draw the line so I can blow right past
I wanna spend too much, I wanna stay too late
Im gonna roar too loud, Im gonna be that way
I wanna play too hard, I wanna go too far
Im the one they all depend on
Sensible, predictable, and strong
But every now and then,
I feel like Ive played that role too long
I need to rock the boat, I need to speak my mind
Just this once let it all unwind
Ive gotta set this spirit free
Thats hiding here inside
I feel like a bird in a cage
Its time for me to fly
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lapis Lazuli
(For Harry Clifton)
I HAVE heard that hysterical women say
They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow.
Of poets that are always gay,
For everybody knows or else should know
That if nothing drastic is done
Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out.
Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in
Until the town lie beaten flat.
All perform their tragic play,
There struts Hamlet, there is Lear,
That's Ophelia, that Cordelia;
Yet they, should the last scene be there,
The great stage curtain about to drop,
If worthy their prominent part in the play,
Do not break up their lines to weep.
They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay;
Gaiety transfiguring all that dread.
All men have aimed at, found and lost;
Black out; Heaven blazing into the head:
Tragedy wrought to its uttermost.
Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages,
And all the drop-scenes drop at once
Upon a hundred thousand stages,
It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce.
On their own feet they came, or On shipboard,'
Camel-back; horse-back, ass-back, mule-back,
Old civilisations put to the sword.
Then they and their wisdom went to rack:
No handiwork of Callimachus,
Who handled marble as if it were bronze,
Made draperies that seemed to rise
When sea-wind swept the corner, stands;
His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem
Of a slender palm, stood but a day;
All things fall and are built again,
And those that build them again are gay.
Two Chinamen, behind them a third,
Are carved in lapis lazuli,
Over them flies a long-legged bird,
A symbol of longevity;
The third, doubtless a serving-man,
Carries a musical instmment.
Every discoloration of the stone,
Every accidental crack or dent,
Seems a water-course or an avalanche,
Or lofty slope where it still snows
Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch
Sweetens the little half-way house
Those Chinamen climb towards, and I
Delight to imagine them seated there;
There, on the mountain and the sky,
On all the tragic scene they stare.
One asks for mournful melodies;
Accomplished fingers begin to play.
Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes,
Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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