Hopscotch
Hopscotch
In a train going back home
A thousand scenes hurtling back
Those smug village lanes
So much missed
My doggie, Childhood
Friends and the hopscotch game
Those tiny legs
Tottering and
Picking up stone
From hastily drawn squares
Three hearts and six squares
Our childhood cheers!
Time stole the scenes
Yet they live on
Yes, at the back of our mind
Three hearts, three stones
And six drawn squares!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
My dilapidated heart and the stubborn girl
Her ding-dong bells like voice invites me to play hopscotch.
And I just want to explain her,
Dear daughter, I am like your grandfather and I have already hopped over the marked squares in the tattered life and my fragile heart hangs on a string,
If I hop again that would collapse and scatter like dew.
To all my friends in gratitude.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Lines and Squares
Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"
And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine,
As soon as he's silly and steps on a line."
And some of the bigger bears try to pretend
That they came round the corner to look for a friend;
And they try to pretend that nobody cares
Whether you walk on the lines or squares.
But only the sillies believe their talk;
It's ever so portant how you walk.
And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears,
Just watch me walking in all the squares!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Hollywood Squares
Ive always said I do too easy
And now Im payin the price
My weakness for beautiful women
Is my most expensive vice
I still believe in matrimony
But I cant afford another try
Child support and alimony
Is just about to bleed me dry
Chorus:
I got exs all across the country
And I owe everybody in town
I got bill collectors a callin me up
And lawyers tryin to track me down
Im just one wrong move from the poor house
But I dont belong in there
I got so many exs and owe so much
I ought to be on hollywood squares
Yeah, I ought to be on hollywood squares
Lookin back over my love life
I only have myself to blame
I guess I shouldve checked my price tag
Before I gave em my last name
Now my credit ratings in the gutter
And the bottom line sure looks bad
Ill be payin the rest of my life
For the few good times Ive had
Chorus
Yeah, they ought to put me on hollywood squares
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back To You
Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I tried to forget you
I tried to stay away
But it's too late
Over you
I'm never over
Over you
Something about you
It's just the way you move
The way you move me
I'm so good at forgetting
And I quit ever game I play
But forgive me
song performed by by John Mayer from Room For Squares
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there... Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.
quote by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Back Old Days
Another season of the year
Is now upon the earth and me;
Another spring will light these hills—
No other spring mine own may be:
I must retune my unstrung harp,
I must awake the sleeping tomb,
I must recall the loved and lost,
Ere spring again for me could bloom.
I've wandered, but it was in vain,
In many a far and foreign clime,
Absence is not forgetfulness,
And distance cannot vanquish time.
One face was ever in my sight,
One voice was ever on my ear,
From all earth's loveliness I turned
To wish, Ah that the dead were here!
Oh! weary wandering to no home,
Oh! weary wandering alone,
I turned to childhood's once glad scenes
And found life's last illusion flown.
Ah! those who left their childhood's scenes
For after-years of toil and pain,
Who but bring back the breaking heart
Should never seek those scenes again.
poem by Sunnetra Basu
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood everyday
This missing increases day by day
I miss those days of happiness
which were full of joy and naughtiness
I miss my grandpa's magnificent love
I miss my grandma's food serve
I miss my village and my darling home
Now I am sad and alone
I was used to go garden daily evening
where I see the day changing
I play their with my friends
who were perfect in that and were legends
I miss stealing of mango from trees
I miss those mountainy friendly trees
I miss play of hide and seek
we hide on guava's great peak
I miss my fields and ponds
I miss that sweet smell of my lands
I miss the scolds of elders
I miss my village builders
I miss my grandpa's old shoulders
I miss my village's brave soldiers
I miss my cow's sweet milk
I miss my cranky and playful tricks
No one can return my childhood
And that hunt for fruits in woods
I have left my childhood very far
But I need life like that with no bar
I am hungry for that love of village
my hunger becomes more with age
In this world of stress and worries
I want back my childhood glories
Life is such a name
That plays with everyone, a different game
But in every game there is some hopeful ray
I miss my childhood everyday.
(27 march 2010, Lucknow)
poem by Shashank Dwivedi
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The Cage....
one can see
an unaffected wire
cage on days when
the lovebirds
are set free
it has no wings
only squares and squares
of the usual
indifference
whether the door is open
or close
what does it matter to it?
an instrument will always be
the usual instrument
there is no imagination
no dream
not even the temporary bliss
of an illusion
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Even With My Eyes Closed
Even with my eyes closed
Funny, how I know
Its harder, its harder now
Young girl
In my young girl days
Thinking I could live for always
But like an ocean tide
Im drawn back inside
And I know
Seasons pass
Like sand inside a glass
And nothing, nothing returns
Standing with the friends Ive made
Ill race them to the grave
Well, who won, who won the extra days?
But like an ocean tide
Im drawn back inside
Like an ocean tide
Drawn back inside
And I know
When you take away the years toll
On the waters wide, shallow high and low
In the autumn sky
Happy to know Im going home
Even with my eyes closed
Funny, how I know
Its finally, has it finally begun?
An ocean tide (whoa)
Im drawn back inside
But like an ocean tide (whoa)
Im drawn back inside
And I know
And I know
And I know
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hopscotch
Maya*, do you remember our boisterous childhood?
We were hopping over the marked squares.
At last you hopped over the horizon
leaving me alone in my dormitory.
I stuck in my room with the pile of books.
The gust rattled my tiny windows
and I am scared that my fragile heart will scatter
and blow away like a withered leaf.
I am already frustrated in the rat race
and this raw deal never allow me to jump
over the hurdle.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers at their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever knows. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history. Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs. Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth. Here at last he finds rest.
quote by W. Somerset Maugham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood Faded Away
Childhood Faded away,
to a far away land,
simple, so simple were we,
Days of Play,
Going our Way,
Having fun, no care,
for another day,
time for us stood still,
playing king of the hill
Childhood Faded away
thinking of another day,
summer time was fine,
when friends were kind,
swiming holes were filled,
our hearts were thrilled
Childhood Faded Away
to a time that makes me sway
many years have passed away,
since childhood faded to another day,
Childhood Faded to places,
UNKNOWN TO US
floating somewhere in time.
wrote 1-15-07
Super Mario Brothers Live As Video Gamer's Memory Paradise in Me
Think back to your personal childhood
experiences with video game paradise
Think Nintendo Consoles and the most famous
Video Game Mascot of all
Talking Super Mario Bros.
The Game I played day and night every day
when I play Super Mario on my Wii
Memories of my childhood
came back to me
my childhood is forever young
but I am not
but that paradise lives on as a video game memory in my heart
thanks Super Mario Brothers! Thank you Nintendo!
Super Mario Bros- Live As A Video Game 's Memory Paradise In Me!
poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain Is Back With My Childhood
rain is back with my childhood,
when i ran on streets & explored the wood.
giving me a chance to refresh my mood.
rain brings back my childhood days,
with mind running in different ways,
crawling out secretly, when mom refuses,
& if caught, making silly & funny excuses.
the paper boat sailing in a pond,
& we the imaginary sailors pulling it on.
for sometime, standing under the tree.
& enjoying the scene in glee.
the next moment running out in rain,
realizing standing here is in vain.
splashing feet in puddles in street,
stopping for a jiff, to breathe.
capturing a tiny, lazy snail,
watch it go free leaving a trail.
wondering at the seasonal creatures,
their bright colors and amazing features.
these memories are safe as if in a file,
rain opens it and make me smile.
it brings back my childhood memories,
& leave me with load of cheers.
Back Home
Yeah yeah yeah
Well Im going back this summer to ohio
Im gonna seek out all my friends Ive always known
Im goin back to that farm that I remember
Well Im goin to spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Im gonna get up every morning before the roosters
Ill run downstairs fix my breakfast all alone
Ill milk those cows feed the chickens and the horses
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Ill eat everything that ma puts on the table
When I get back you wont believe how Ive grown
Ill hit the sack early everynight thinkin bout tomorrow whoa oh
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home, back home, back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Thats what Im gonna do thats where Im gonna be, thats this summer
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Gonna get up, gonna get up, gonna get up every morning
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Hey woo feels okay back home
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cartoons
We are a cartoon: poorly drawn and sketched
Into the comic frames of dystrophy.
Each pane of malnourished philosophy
Squares at the other, over pages—stretched.
Our dysfunction is speckled bright colors—
A popping, vibrant, action-packed palette.
We are painted in the newsprint vignette
Without the darkness, without the pallor.
We are glossy stipples on cheap paper;
The dots and contour lines of the back sheet,
Hidden away for a last minute laugh.
We're dramatized as the int'rest tapers—
The publication's final, funny treat,
And the bad jokes are made on my behalf.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diary...of a Travellers Mind
A Diary Of A Travellers Mind
The world is a stage... where we perform an act,
and then to situations we blindly hastily react.
When our share is done we have played our part,
Either by breaking or mending a tattered heart.
Our childhood playmates with time all drifted away,
The shrinkng world bring them back some way.
Childhood memories come to tenderly play,
Innocent days of joy that never slipped away,
Sharing a smile that is extended so generously.
Wiping away controlled tears now flow effortlessly,
The many a tears and fears soon will see its end.
......when to the angels call our soul will lend,
The best we make, with sweet fragrance it must be
To the values of life which should be a priority...
Memory is a special diary that we carry in our hearts
so warm and gentle and wish it will never part,
Of the Wonder Years we shared with friends, loved ones
A treasured journey under God's glorious golden sun
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Paintings
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents, and the time
we thought is lost
forever in time
Second Version
--
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents and geniuses
overheated talents
that drove them lunatics,
madmen manoevring
with the coldness
of the arctics
volcanoes that explode
splotches, dashes
splashes, onto the
canvas of their dreams
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
paintings, they bring back
all the years nature plods on
against adversities to help
the artist pour out its best onto canvas
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Childhood Is...
Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup
poem by Shenika Vermaak
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She Wants To Play Hearts
I am a broken toy
For a lonely girl
Use once and destroy
And go find some more
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I'm the rag doll boy
With broken eyes
She only comes to me
When it's raining outside
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I fell for you
I fell for you
Why?
I guess I wanted to play too.
Here's the lonely string
Playing 'long in my head
For only just my arms
Are dancing marionettes
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
And she wants to play a game of hearts
She wants to play a game of hearts
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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