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SpringTides

Several years ago
the purity of our youth
made it okay for us not to know.
The ambience of innocence
and the seasons moods,
perfected our mundane reality
of suppressed deludes.

poem by Jacob Yusufov
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Innocence Matter: Restoration Perfection

Innocence is the question?
Innocence is the X factor?
Innocence is life mortality?
Innocence is sinless state immortality?

Innocence is physical perfection?
Innocence is purity soul divinity?
Innocence is state of grace harmony?
Innocence is Trinity creation link eternity?
Innocence is life breath immortality?

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Innocence of Youth

How many dawns
have I greeted?
How many more
Remain for me?
Why do I feel
the seasons
so plainly
at this hour?
The tingle
of colder air
brings with it,
a haunted mood
and half memories
of what used to be.
Waking up to
winter morns,
a child raised
on a farm.
The smell of biscuits
cooking, steam
from hot oatmeal.
I don’t remember
aching or dreaming
of you. Just the
innocence of youth.
The innocence of youth.

poem by Emma Beverage
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Innocence.

What is innocence exactly?
Does it come with youth?
Is it a purity we all have?
Or is it just not knowing...

****

Not knowing who you are,
Or whats happening,
Not realising things that are obvious,
Or just not understanding everything and anything.

****

Innocence, we all say we see it in the eyes of the young,
We believe in it, because it protects us,
And even when we think it's gone,
Does a part remain inside of us?

poem by Katie Berry
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Raindrops of Innocence

Crystal raindrops and romantic breeze
Arouse this reality that becomes you.
For the moon you are stood in nakedness
Intimidating eye with purity hidden for long.
Purity disguised with ruggedness.

Alas! Some raw gem you are.
As eye wear the coat of silence,
Raindrops still singing away
For this two in converse so
Deep, innocence you are arrested
My soul.

The sadness you feel about the world
Made you cry your heart away.
Amazingly! The roving eyes of adventurous
Men sees nothing of your pain.

They call you evasive, they call you deceptive.
For this emotionally depressed mind, them care nothing about,
But this day, eye so cherished the you in nature to me
You displayed

As eye brood this feelings thyself arouse in an
Inquisitive a heart that is mine,
Eye remember nature that weathered
These crystal raindrops of innocence
We shared.

©1997

poem by Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
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Innocence Inspires Paradise Harmonies

Innocence is the question?
Innocence is X factor benediction?
Innocence is gift inspiration.
creation regeneration restoration.

Innocence is healing blessing specific
of purity beauty love touch unsold.
Innocence vibrant an angelic music
infuses paradise harmonics to enfold.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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My Mirrors Past

I look into the mirror
and stare at this face.
Life has gotten dearer.
Time has left its trace.

What happened to the innocence?
Where is that youthful glow?
This isn't the mirror I saw myself in
So many years ago.

Innocence became reality.
Youth gave way to mature
Now I wish I had the mirror
I looked into before.

Mirrors show an image
We may not want to see.
The way we are today.
How we used to be.

Remember while you're looking.
The reflection doesn't last.
Just think of how it was
When you looked In Mirrors Past.

poem by Ashleigh Gaffney
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In Mirrors Past

I look into the mirror
and stare at this face.
Life has gotten dearer.
Time has left its trace. What happened to the innocence?
Where is that youthful glow?
This isn't the mirror I saw myself in
so many years ago. Innocence became reality.
Youth gave way to mature
Now I wish I had the mirror
I looked into before. Mirrors show an image
We may not want to see.
The way we are today.
How we used to be. Remember while you're looking.
The reflection doesn't last.
Just think of how it was
When you looked In Mirrors Past.

poem by Wendy Marie Georgi
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Cyclic Are the Meager Years Nearing

Cyclic are the meager years nearing,
To appear and experience...
For many unfamiliar,
With being denied to feed when they wish.
As those who were witnessed,
Going through this period...
Had been quickly dismissed as disposable.
But these grotesque images made to be depicted,
Had been intended to frame those suppressed.
And not be lived by those who now protest,
The reality of their own creation.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mood Colours

At times, we describe our moods in colours
that pass by our eyes each day.
There are our blue moods,
those when we are down.
Then there are our red moods
whenever our temper flares.
Our black moods are colourless
and the most dangerous of them all.
Our sunshine moods are when the world is golden
and smiles are all we see.
Pink shades our loving moods
and to the world, we show we care
as our love shines through.
Our moods can change quickly
as we pass through the rainbow spectrum
within our daily lives.

15 January 2009

poem by David Harris
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Truth

It is Truth
If what reality dwells in the mind
Is completely presented.

It is untruth
If what reality dwells in the mind
Is veiled and presented.

The ebbs and flows
of the mundane pursuits
and the Perpetual Truth
both alternate
and reside in the same mind.

If the encountered
mundane reflections are obliterated
The Eternal Truth glistens
In greater degree by its own visions.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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It is who? ♥

It is not me but you
It is not you but the things you do
It is not the things you do but your love
It is not your love but the innocence you have
It is not the innocence you have but your reality
It is not your reality but your ability
It is not your ability but your creativity
It is not your creativity but your dignity
It is not your dignity but your appearance
It is not your appearance but your resistance
It is not your resistance but the way it has to be
It is not the way it has to be but ME

Yes me!

Fall for your ability
When I recognize your reality
Wish you could be mine
With the best life and sane

Yes you!

Make me down on my knee
Following you like the queen bee
Falling of my heart for yours
Much better know than previous years

Yes we!

Can do it in well
With the bright will
Never to had a fight more
Let us keep the life we adore

poem by Luwi Habte
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The Benefit Of This Is Missed

It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
Yes.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
And...
So much exposed has people sick.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
And wish they do for peace and quietness.
It's better with a benefit of it!
Yes.

So many are lost for many reasons.
And destroyed by the cost of losing innocence.
Many wish for a taste of more sweetened seasons.
Wanting to reminisce,
A beneift missed.

People wish to unlock their doors to explore.
Remembering when there was an innocence of this.
Many are seeking a life to live adored.
Knowing how beneficial and wanting this more.

So many are lost for many reasons.
And destroyed by the cost of losing innocence.
Many wish for a taste of more sweetened seasons.
Wanting to reminisce,
A beneift missed.

It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
Yes.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
Better with a benefit of it,
And...
So much exposed has people sick.
It's better with a bit of innocence.
And wish they do for peace and quietness.
It's better with a benefit of it!
Yes.
And the benefit of this is missed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We're horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We're the ninjas of the mundane, you might say.

quote by Andy Partridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Narrow, Shallow and Mundane

Narrow, shallow and mundane.
Many have decided to resist this and split.
And not try to make any sense of it.

A peace of mind obtained,
If it can remain sustained...
Should be valued and claimed.
Along with a name that is not defamed.

To sit and witness a twistedness,
Is not healthy to absorb to maintain in one's brain.

See the narrow, shallow and mundane,
As a motivating factor to quit.
To allow the Sun to lift,
From a drenching rain.
It is possible to live life without conflict.

Separate from those,
Who have made this their reality.
They are in a collective mix.
And fixed...
To being narrow, shallow and mundane.
What more proof does one need of it?

Is there reason to argue this with them?
Is it?
Unless there is an enjoyment received from abusiveness?
Is it?
Along with the name calling that has no shame.
Is this something one should miss?
Is it?

Is something with the others who insanely accept,
In a gleeful derangement set in mindsets to exchange...
That addicting?
Is it?

So much so it can not be forgotten and left to leave,
To rot.
What is the need to feel attached to that?
Why can't these afflictions if not wanted...
Can not be dropped and stopped?

What is it with 'this' that is so hypnotic?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innocence Taken

Innocence taken
by those who thought
that it was ok to lie
by those who thought
nothing matters
Innocence taken
no longer available
Innocence unable
to ever speak again
Innocence silenced
to soon
Innocence taken
there's no truth over the lie
Innocence taken
by those who thought
I'll be the same again
by those who thought
its ok to kill
by those who thought
it's ok to take
Innocence replaced
by fear and mistrust
Innocence disappeared
before it came
Innocence taken
by those who
laughed at every cry
by those who had none
Innocence reflecting
a little girls eyes
innocence taken away
without my permission

poem by Kiara Davar
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Little Pieces of Innocence

Little Pieces of Innocence
(0n watching my children sleep)

Sweet sleep, little pieces of innocence,
While dreams so serenely fair,
Fill their heads with joyous thoughts,
How gladly do I stand and stare,
Upon the gifts that love has brought.

No darkness spreads her sorrow here,
Sleep on dear children, rest, but know,
Your father watches with such delight,
This moment of truth, and with heart aglow,
And filled with love this night.

Those little pieces of innocence,
So serene, so full of grace,
Sweetest gifts that Heaven imparts,
Fondly shall I long embrace,
The innocence in their hearts.

Those little pieces of innocence,
Their youthful years so few,
Enjoy now as you grow,
Joys of innocence, pure and true,
That only children ever know.

The hour is fleeting, and morn is nigh,
Innocence so filled with truth,
Awake! enjoy your childhood years,
Before time sweeps away your youth,
And innocence disappears.

Never, never can I lose them,
No time or distance shall stake a claim,
Though saddness may overcome me,
My heart will stay the same,
And those little pieces of innocence will forever be.

By
Richard Netherland Cook

poem by Richard Netherland Cook
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In My Imagination

In imagination the rights are few and famous,
Inside the triangle of many disorders lies a weapon
To make our message shine with love and minor actions.

In this season of joy we aptly remind ourselves
To keep a revolver on the further bench
So as to shoot the men of mighty age and skill.

In this reality, a goal has been achieved out of
The lingering fear, one felt a sensation of cool
Air, the very being has established a ruin and relish.

I have ascertained my age according to deeds,
Those doers in runny waters are watching,
Theirs is the food of the youth and innocence.

Sometimes a young sweetheart reigns on the obvious
And the mundane, to fulfill my sweet sounds
And the courage will fight for another night of fountains.

My image has relied on substances of the mice
Creeping in their holes, and they are ready to pry into life
Outside. Their relaxed being causes me to stir.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Melodious Delight

Sweet notes which fill my ears with song,
And gently revolve around my head,
Propel my heart and soul along,
The way of happiness to tread.

With rhythmic steps I travel on,
Devouring melodious delight,
All senses keen, reality gone,
What moods these harmonies excite.

Like drifting off on clouds of white,
Leaving this world and all its woe,
As if one is a high evasive kite,
Launched by all the winds that blow.

Sweet notes which fill my ears with song,
Continue to enhance this charm,
As I, with hope, yearn to prolong,
Such true feelings of ambience, and calm.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Treasure Innocence

“I have walked
a lot of dark streets
all over the world.”

“You have got
a lot of confidence.”
“How can you tell? ”

“It is in all
your mannerisms.”

“I may look a fool
but I am not.
I may play the fool
but I am not.”

“I may play the fool
but I lost the beauty
of youth’s innocence
at a younger tender age.”

“That is why I treasure
innocence so deeply.
A great actor disappears
in the art of invisibility.”

How few observe
raw social reality.
Truth written in echo lines
stage idealized actuality.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Reign Must Fall

The tyrants psyche is broken.
He sits in his gilded palace
Surrounded by his trusty band
Of armed thuggish cutthroats, waiting
For the inevitable end.
Outside the palace walls a crowd
Of angry, loathing citizens
Whose long suppressed voices bellow
An immediate regime change;
But like most tyrants of the past
Ego and self-aggrandizement
Deludes clear, rational thinking;
As a result, grasping at straws
Hoping for the impossible.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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