Related quotes: Long time ago there were...

Game.

Long time ago there were not too many playthings,
Children played with tree branches, mud pies, & natural blessings
Today there are phones, computers, I-pads and more,
These kids do not even appreciate anything anymore.
Definitely they are sharper then the older generation,
Nonstop playing their games with a dedication.

I never had toys, but whatever I do is a game
Enjoying life, busy every second, I call it a toy no matter what it's name,
Nothing is better then doing everything with joy,
Love life every second, mind my own business and enjoy.

poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Kids Are Being Mollycoddled

I was a young lad in the sixties
and we were always out and about
it was a time of little health and safety
and your parents could give you a clout.
The kids today are the PlayStation generation
and some haven't even climbed a tree
but we spent most of our time outdoors
and best of all it was all free.
We never had mobiles or laptops
and the television only came on at night
you made do with just three channels
and that was all in black and white.
We'd all go on long nature rambles
not returning until it got dark
and when we weren't on adventures
we'd be playing Football over the park.
So kids switch off those computers
before both of your eyes turn square
stop being wrapped up in cotton wool
and get outside into the fresh air!

poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Stay The Best Of Kids

I have played with my children the same way,
On a daily basis.
Everyday.
And...
For most of their lives I have been in sight.

So do not try to reprimand me,
About my inability to be a good parent.
I raised my kids the best I could,
To be good children and nothing more.

'And...
Who played the role of the adult?
While you and your children played,
To stay the best of kids,
Most of your lives? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Giving Tree

Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'

And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.

And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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See The Children

(la la la la la la la...)
I stopped the car
The other day
I had to ask a little
Girl the way
I thought she'd show me
Better if she got inside
And once inside
I thought i'd taker her
For a little ride...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time...
I'm a supermarket santa
Underneath the christmas tree
The little one all like to
Come and sit upon my knee
I have to hold them tightly
'cause they fall to the floor
A little concern ain't
Against the law...
So i see the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time
See the children
(something something something??) all the time
I pass by the infant school
Every single day
I push sweeties through the fence
But the kids just run way
I only want to talk with them
And join in their fun
But all the little children do
Is run run run run run run run run...
(la la la la la la, la la la la la la..etc..)
See the children
Feel the children all the time..
See the children
Feel the children
See the children
Feel the children
All the time........

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pieman

I'd like to be a pieman, and ring a little bell,
Calling out, 'Hot pies! Hot pies to sell!'
Apple-pies and Meat-pies, Cherry-pies as well,
Lots and lots and lots of pies - more than you can tell.
Big, rich Pork-pies! Oh, the lovely smell!
But I wouldn't be a pieman if ...
I wasn't very well.
Would you?

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's the new way - with computers, computers, computers. That's the way we can have the cell survive and get some new information in high resolution. We started about five years ago and, today, I think we have reached the target.

quote by Lennart Nilsson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grass is easier?

Up on a windy hill a tree is
a grassy field wind is the breeze
birds and bee's play and play
long lost lovers sign there names
in the tree
a tire swing sways and sways
on this tree
children songs and voices
filled the air at the time
now and days the grass is dead
tree is bare and the birds and the bees
play else ware
long lost lovers are lost
the names wore and decay
on this tree
a tire swing once swayed
on this tree children played
now on this tree smoke and ash lay
songs and voices now all gone
for this is the tree we once plaid on

poem by Cody Lee Jones
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Banyan Tree

Banyan tree, banyan tree
that century old banyan tree
standing grandeurly for us to see
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Cool breeze passing through
seeking blessings of banyan tree
branches shaking in approval
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Glassy green with majestic trunk
touching the earth, not breaking free
shelter home for different birds
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Yellowish streaks, some with reddish tinge
welcome every season with a glee
symbol of eternal life
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Shedding leaves, like tears falling
a grandfather lamenting on its knees
new plants cuddling around
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Lord Buddha became its buddy
meditation was the only key
peace you get underneath
that is why it is banyan tree.

Banyan tree, banyan tree
wish fullfilling, it is banyan tree
just pray here and let you see
Banyan tree, banyan tree.

A life giver and just for free
Banyan is my national pride
preserve these at any cost
don't commit a homicide?

God blessed us with banyan tree
heat absorbing banyan tree
has healing powers this banyan tree
banyan tree, banyan tree.
---- X -----
copyright/Children of Lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
All rights reserved

poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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When We Were Young

When we were young
we thought we were immortal.
We played at recess, and after
school, ran all the way home.
Barefooted, we moved over
rocks and sticks.
The only stop was at the bakery
and since we were children
we got fresh bread for less.

When we were young
there were no cell phones.
We lived in a rural district,
there were no phones at all,
except the ones we made,
out of empty milk cans
and a piece of cord.

When we were young
we made cars
out of sardine tins
and before we played house,
underneath the cellar,
we carried water in pans.

When we were young
nothing scared us,
besides the reflections
on the banana trees,
on the way to the out-house,
on a dim-lit night.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Solar Storm Blues

No television today to see
Cell phones are out so we cant speak
Computers scramble and fade to black
Storms are raging in a star filled sky
Oh no how can we live in such a way
This is a diaster so what do we do
We may have live in an age of whats old is new

poem by Candy Transcends
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cell Phone Mania

Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.

Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.

Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.

There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.

Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.

Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.

People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might

as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.

Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,

Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.

wrote 1-19-07

poem by Jim Foulk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pads, Paws & Claws

Shes a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life
But when hes full of that beer-champagne
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
And if he should wake up in some terrible dive
And he dont know if hes so-so
But hes so surprised hes alive
Come on little honey, let me under your hive
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt
He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt
Anything wearing a necklace
He thinks of claws scratching his back hes
Going out there hes not coming back
Shes got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
til hes drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasnt all covered in fur
Hes coming home now and heres the surprise
You wouldnt believe the lies that he tries
She cut him down to her favourite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pads, Paws And Claws

Shes a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life
But when hes full of that beer-champagne
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
And if he should wake up in some terrible dive
And he dont know if hes so-so
But hes so surprised hes alive
"come on little honey, let me under your hive"
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt
He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt
Anything wearing a necklace
He thinks of claws scratching his back hes
Going out there hes not coming back
Shes got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
til hes drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasnt all covered in fur
Hes coming home now and heres the surprise
You wouldnt believe the lies that he tries
She cut him down to her favourite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're getting so pulled in by computers and technology, and our kids have their face in the computers all day. The human relationship is being diminished by this.

quote by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Little Thing She Does

Freshman year mama asked waht do you wanna
do when you get out of here.
i said well gee, i'm only 13, but i think i'd like to play my guitar
be a star
She well thats not it you got some time to go
good sense will kick in any time you know.
i'm not worried, i'm not worried
Softmore year she asked the same old thing,
my answer had remained unchanged
i saw her fidgit with her thumbs,
she said you like computers John, you like computers don't you
you see i always see with a computer you like computers
maybee you could do something with computers yea wouldn't that be nice
Junior year, its a little more tense she says,
what do you want to do with your life?
i'm not on the fence i know exactly what i am to be
and i'm only 17.
she well all i ask is that you pay attention in class,
so if you happen to xhange your mind in time you can still go
so where reputible, do us proud.
so i went down stairs and played the guitar loud.
yea and senior its the same old question
she said what you wanna do?
i said play my guitar and sing, she said theres no such thing,
she said thers no such thing

song performed by by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robbers of time

What robbers rob can be recovered.
The time robbed cannot be retrieved.
Cell phones, televisions and computers
Are robbers that steal time all the time.

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Not

If not for my Father, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Mother, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Teachers, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Brothers, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Sisters, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Spouse Dear, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Children, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Good Deeds, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Talents, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Hard Work, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Blessings, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Country, would I be what I am today?
If not for my Dear GOD, would I be what I am today?

poem by John Celes
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One day perhaps I'll understand.

They say there is no Santa Claus
the bigger kids. Its just your dad
I don’t believe their lies of course
Although sometimes it makes me sad

I haven’t got a dad you see.
He died a long, long time ago
There’s just my mum my sis and me
That’s why I’m certain that I know.

There has to be a Santa Claus.
On Christmas morning there will be.
Some presents for each of us
in piles beneath the Christmas tree.

I only six but I know this.
That Santa works all through the night
making sure he does not miss.
A chance to bring a child delight.

One day I hope to catch the sight
of Santa Claus all dressed in red.
But mummy makes me go to bed
and she will watch for him instead.

She leaves mince pies and ginger wine.
Then she settles down to wait.
My sister goes to bed at nine.
Mum falls asleep and wakes too late.

He’s been and gone, so have the pies
While mother slept, kind Santa crept
into the house and ate the pies.
He left our presents while we slept.

At least that’s what my mother says.
If I should ask why she cries
On this the happiest of days.
Because I miss him she replies.

I’m not quite sure I understand
the reason for my mummy’s tears
Santa has gone back to Lapland
where has lived for years and years.

I think my older sister knows
A secret that she will not tell
She’s not allowed to suppose.
Because she sometimes cries as well.

But I’m a boy and boys don’t cry
But when they cry it makes me sad
Although I really don’t know why.
I never really knew my Dad.

Tuesday,01 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One day pehaps I'll understand Tissues warning