How Archaic Can They Be?
Only children not given attention,
Are out of control.
Spare the rod, spoil the child.
That's what I've always been told.
And the evidence of that,
Is not an assumption!
That's a fact.
A child undisciplined,
Will bring grief in the end.
And those doing their research through books,
Are the ones seen tearfully...
Expressing they've done what they thought it took,
To keep their children from becoming...
Liars, criminals and deceiving petty crooks.
How archaic can they be?
Wanting to whipped their children...
Into respectful human beings?
Only children not given attention,
Are out of control.
Spare the rod, spoil the child.
That's what I've always been told.
And still to this very day,
As the industry of incarceration...
Blooms to a boom without a bust,
There are those who are scholars...
Professing they know a way,
How a restoration of values and standards,
Will eliminate division and the onslaught of decay.
AND return the public's trust.
IF...
We all follow 'their' instructions,
Outlined in their bestselling books!
Instilling within us a more educated way...
To properly train our children to become,
The liars, criminals and deceiving petty crooks...
A decadent society has obviously become.
And with a price to pay.
That's the way it looks!
How archaic can they be?
Wanting to whipped their children...
Into respectful human beings?
Only children not given attention,
Are out of control.
Spare the rod, spoil the child.
That's what I've always been told.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Direct and Indirectly
Direct and indirectly...
God has blessed me!
Not to have a child to have lived.
And I am today pleased with that.
And I am being extremely positive.
No one on this Earth,
Would tell me how to raise my kids.
Or suggest that I read,
How someone else believes...
That should be done!
I would spare that rod.
And use one thick belt!
If my child spoke back to me...
A behind would be whipped.
Burning hot!
Preventing him or her to sit!
'Go to your room! '
Would not come from my lips.
'Get out of my house...! '
And that would be it!
911?
They could call it if they wish.
And that child of mine should call...
They better disappear.
Or they will never again exist!
I am not going to be disrespected,
By someone I support!
Or be cussed out in public.
Like I hear some children,
To their parents exhort.
I don't think so!
'Excuse me...
May I use your PA system for a moment?
Thank you!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
There is a child needing immediate medical assistance.
Will someone please call the police and an ambulance!
I will be in either produce or Aisle 17.
I have shopping to finish.
I thank you for your patience! '
My children will be disciplined.
Respectful of others.
And not a selfish bone will they have in their bodies.
Free they will be of lies and deceit.
I will not be busting my ass...
To weed my flowers of crabgrass.
And God knew!
~But 'why' would you break your son's nose,
Mister Pertillar? ~
*You see those braces on his teeth?
They cost me a fortune.
His nose will heal and I will probably go to jail.
Far less expensive of a price to pay.
But this 'kid' is in his 20's.
And 'he'...
Not 'you'
Reminds me 24/7...
How long 2 minutes of pleasure can aggravate.'
**You told me it was 4 hours! **
*Do you see what I'm saying?
Even with a broken nose,
His mouth is still open! *
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Parents, Neglect Not Thy Children
Parents, tend thou to thy children with care;
Children are now more precious than before;
Like diamond brooch in necklaces, they are;
The family has become nuclear to core.
These are the days of small a family norm;
Accidents kill more than diseases can;
Pampered, unloved remain children in form;
Spare not the rod and spoil not child, O man.
What is the use of all thy hard-earned wealth?
Teach them the sense of values in their life;
Important is their body’s/ mind’s/ soul’s health;
Their problems own, they must face that are rife.
Excessive love will spoil its good purpose;
Too much of shade too makes a plant’s growth worse.
poem by John Celes
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Three children
Three little children.
One with a home.
One sitting on a thrown.
The last child only skin and bones.
One child lives happily with his family.
One child sits alone; his family won’t spare the time
The last child watches his mother die.
One child has a few new toys.
One child has the best toys anyone can imagine.
The last child plays with sticks and stones.
One child attends public school.
One child stays home and studies alone.
The last child has to cook and has never opened a book.
The children become men.
One man is off to war.
One man is sitting behind a jail door.
The last man is very far from poor.
poem by Yvette Carbajal
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Children’s Day,2009
Our children are the gift from God;
You spoil the child by sparing rod;
The priceless wealth from Heav’n above,
That are being aborted now!
Children must be brought up with care;
They have the right to food and air;
Yet, freedom is seldom given;
To begging alms, some are driven!
Children need to learn and to play;
God dwells in them, some always say;
No home is complete without them;
They’re matrimony’s diadem!
How some struggle to have one child!
Yet some rear them like beasts in wild;
The future of the world depends
On healthy children’s dividends!
But why are children ignored much?
Denied are they love, human touch;
Their lives are lost in umpteen ways;
World’s children pass such sadder days!
O world, wake up from your slumber!
Children are bigger in number;
The health of nations is their health;
World’s children are the planet’s wealth!
Let’s make the world a better place;
Let children wear a smile on face;
Let parents rear them with due care;
Without good children, none can fare!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-14-2009
poem by John Celes
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Children?
Children are the easily led,
Their learning is profound,
Their lift is happy and proud,
Why do parents forgive them?
We produce the fellow children
To lift and uplift each of us
When there happens a life.
Children need growth to boast,
To live and outlive, to death is their journey
After a life of straightforward happiness and bliss.
Felt good? Why children? Because, say Children,
We live among others who are like the mothers
In the land we call Children.
Child after child shall learn of the existing ones
That need admirals and generals of late.
The defence of a child is the greatest concern,
And I laugh at one who destroys life,
Ever in turmoil is a child because of this act.
Children will be enough to be today.
Children can upset no one who is old and ancient,
Selfless students are children.
However much you push and pull at the threads that children weave
And sort, and spread, and sew,
The adult will sew better and more often than a child.
That is the secret, children.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Children's Day in India,2012
Being a child is what all love to be;
And when adult, we know we can never;
Childhood was best and everyone agrees;
But do children have freedom they deserve?
The smaller family norm has done great harm;
The child is neglected right from its birth;
It wallops in its faeces and urine!
It has to study when 'tis age to play!
What selfishness fills hearts of most adults!
They spare no time to watch the bud blossom;
World's children pine for love and yearn for care;
They are denied their rights when still in womb!
The crimes against children are on the rise;
Children are used, abused and not amused;
No nation thrives if children stay enslaved;
Let parents love their children sincerely!
Children are living wealth of nations prime;
Children are priceless gifts from God above;
Children are future parents and leaders;
Children need to be kept healthy, unharmed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-11-12
poem by John Celes
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When She Played It Was On Her Piano
As a kid I had ambitions.
And the first of them was to do my chores,
Before my mother would come home from work.
And she would pack them on too!
'I told you to sweep this floor.'
I did!
'With what?
A sandwich?
Do it again.'
My sister, Mimmie, would look at me.
And smile!
I couldn't wait,
To give her the spray can...
To kill the roaches!
I didn't know we weren't suppose to have them,
Until I was eight years old!
And that's not a joke.
One day when my mother went to work,
I made sure Mimmie got introduced.
She's a grandmother now.
And every once in a while...
She will mention how mean I was to her.
Nobody is going to sit,
And enjoy me getting whipped!
And that has been my philosophy...
Learned very early in my life.
Those days are long gone.
And being assigned to responsibilites,
I believe every child needs.
However...
Too many parents have raised lazy and spoiled children.
Believing one day,
They will awaken and be accountable for their actions!
Today as I reflect on my childhood,
I am glad my mother did not allow me to go to sleep...
To chance an awakening to what I knew I should do.
What I had and was going to do got done,
Before I had an opportunity to give it thought.
Procrastination,
Was not a lesson my mother taught.
I've seen parents,
Do everything possible for their children.
To wonder at a later date in time,
Why their children disrespect them.
Even 'if' I looked as if I wanted to say something back,
My mother would put a 'switch' to my behind.
AND...
I would have to fine one she liked to use on me.
That was before the calling of 911.
Today...
They would call that child abuse.
When I grew up...
We got our 'butts' tore up.
Just for looking as 'if'...
We did not enjoy getting whippings!
And I aint hardly kidding.
How does that 'old' saying go?
~Spare the rod and spoil the child.~
Well...
Mimmie and I were very spoiled.
But...
A rocking of a boat,
Did not float at all...
With Ms Edna!
When she played,
It was on her piano!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Prayer On Child Abuse
Dear God Above
Bless the children that need your love
Bless the lives that are about to end
Caused by a stranger, relative, or even a friend
Children sometimes become confused
That's no reason for them to be abused
Children shouldn't be considered a game,
Nor should your child feel shame
To play with their favorite toy
Like any other girl or boy
Child abuse is a serious crime
But it happens all of the time
If the child is too much trouble
Please send help there on the double
Please don't take the child away
Because someone got angry today
But if these precious children should have to die
Please take them to your home in the sky.
poem by Ginny Cadle
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Sightings
You would have to be a bat wearing Foster Grants.
Or some shaded eye covering,
Not to notice 'something' in the sky.
Something that has flashed by...
Or stopped just to get your attention.
And your attention these 'objects' demand.
It is time to go within children.
Children of the slow in mind.
Children in denial with reality placed on trial.
Sightings!
That's what these celestrial beings are.
Sightings!
Although depicted in your Bible.
You rely on a consciousness...
That is unreliable.
And that is kept denied.
Sightings!
That's what these celestrial beings are.
An awareness for many.
And unbelievable when seen.
Sightings!
That's what these celestrial beings are.
Slowly piercing through dimensions unknown.
But deliberately done.
Not to have the masses scream.
OR be afraid to submit.
And the return of The One...
To this planet comes!
Or perhaps just one of many ONES,
Representing kingdoms throughout the Universe...
See us and descend!
To be welcomed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Little Children
Little children are a gift
An heritage in the Lord
That we might learn humility
According to God's Word.
Little children teach us much
As we open to their love
For we must be as little children
To our Father from above.
Little children are a blessing
As we watch them play and laugh
For when we look at little children
We see no hate nor wrath.
Little children God does give us
That as parents we might be,
A reflection of the Lord
God calls this, family.
For our Father up above
Told us in His Son;
'You cannot enter heaven-
unless like little children you become'
So let's bless our little children
As they grow from day to day;
Learn to be like Yeshua to them
And train them in their way.
poem by Richard Merrell
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Toss and Grab 1,
Kept you under the wings,
for you to grow warmer,
kept away those strangers,
for you to grow stronger,
picked those worms,
for you to grow smarter,
opened these two wings,
for you to grow wiser.
This world belongs to you,
my dear children,
You have every right to explore,
my dear children,
There may be petty problems,
on the way, children!
smash those issues,
my dear children.
Make mistakes, that,
not affect your health,
my dear children,
Take decisions, that,
not affect your integrity,
my dear children.
Be kind to your subordinates,
my dear children,
they are the ladder,
for you to climb up,
my dear children.
Get wiser day by day,
my dear children,
Speculation is not a plays,
my dear children,
you will bring corn,
my dear children,
They will bring husk,
my dear children.
When blow and share,
my dear children,
You will lose my dear children.
When there is a sale,
the market is quiet
enter to trade,
my dear children.
When there is a crowd,
everyone talks for million,
sell your share and run away,
my dear children.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Children Are Innocent
Children learn how to play games,
to survive and get our way
but there is got to be a better “way”.
For why should a child have
to “play” an adult to get it’s way?
We set it up like that thinking
we will turn them into a brat.
but that is not where it should be at.
That is not like Sri Amma Bhagavan’s school,
if most of the world only knew.
Now why can’t kid’s be free to
Experience everything?
Treat them like a Prince, a Queen
or a King?
We make up rules and
stupid laws,
to make us like cattle
just because.
We are afraid
we’ll lose control
control of a child?
I don’t think so.
Children are emotional beings
till at least eight,
why not let them “experience”
life and make them feel great?
They “play mind” games
like the adults do,
but they learn from us I believe that’s true.
We use the word “no”
as a form of control.
We don’t know any better,
we were taught the Planetary dream,
making a child feel guilty,
and then feel demeaned.
Now “no” can be changed
around to be a “yes”
now the child “feels” love
and feels like the best.
Now of course you wouldn’t
let your child do something
harmful that’s true,
but I’m talking about “Can
the child have the red book
over the one that’s “blue”.
Written by Christina Sunrise on April 18,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Our Child
this is our child.
not just yours or mine
but everyones, that are born in our time.
a child is born every minute around this world
beautiful boys and girls.
these children are gifts from god.
and he has chosen you to be the one
who will carry the daughter or son
look into any childs face and you will see
that they belong to you and me.
the child has a bit of all humanity
this is the way god meant it to be.
these are the children of peace
the children of love
given to us from god above.
.
i read in the papers of childrens lives taken
because of anger, fear, sickness and hate.
lets stop them before it too late
put them in jail and throw away the key.
just so that children can sleep peacefully.
if as a child you was abused, neglected, and not loved
then it's time for you to change your life around
and not let these children die on the ground.
stand up and fight, and take
pride in what you do.
the child you save, could have been you.
poem by Louis Rams
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Parentage Is Guarding Lineage And Heritage!
your children may look your children,
By you and the whole world,
even the children believe this is true.
But look at the DNA in them,
It came from you, but think from where it came to you?
Isn't it True that all the neocleotides in our DNA and RNA, PROTEINS AND ALL BIOLOGICAL molecules come from plants and animals!
In this respect animals and trees are our parents,
We owe all molecule in our body to them,
Hence clearly they are real parents of our body,
so we, in short can say nature and energy are our parents!
Isn't it true that our mortal parents shared them and nurtured us and taught us,
they are parents of virtues, moral and cultural values in us!
It is lineage and heritage
inherited from time unknown!
your children Are not your children,
You are the care taker of that lineage!
In you if some genes are dominant or recessive,
May some are neither dominant or recessive,
That is play of dominance or incomplete dominance,
Make children look alike or not!
But you are the parent and take care of children,
Be a model or idol to them,
Win them by your own patience and attitudes,
Bring them slowly into your line!
Children Are innocent flowers in divine garden,
You are the plant with roots,
Feed them, look after and shape them,
fill colours and fragrance of lineage!
Children Are like parrots,
They copy your words and actions,
They are innocent and true,
Like a sponge absorb your traits
Think of there growth and deciding constraints!
You made a child in you,
But you have child in grown up body and mature mind,
Think of the child in child's heart,
Striving to grow in this world!
Let the mature mind control child in you first,
Then the child in your child's heart get hold on Life's virtues.
You are the painter or the sculptor of your child,
But the art work or idol becomes property of world,
One among the art pieces,
Of human culture and heritage!
Be careful in shaping children,
They are soft and brittle,
Once their mind breaks,
No one can join or reshape!
You are the link of that chain of life,
Behave as parent knowing this truth
Man is above animal in this aspect!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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A Rationale God
A Rationale God
It is true there is but one God
It is also true that it is a God for all.
If God loves my children
Then God loves your children.
If God loves me
Then God loves you.
If the above is fact and true
Then there is a God; the children; and me and you.
God does not need a religion or such
Neither do I very much.
God does not have a chosen people
It is the people who have a chosen God.
God would never sanction human suffering
But severly judge those who harm his children.
God loves you and yours and also me and mine
God shares and cares; and at the very least; is fair and kind.
A child is taught and a child does learn
Responsible teachers should question and also discern.
10-30-06 Aho Speak.
poem by AHO Speaks
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Children Of The Land
Written by james young
Lead vocals by james young
Children of the land
Dont wear a frown upon your face
Come on and join your hands
Were all a part of the human race
The music is here
To let you leave your fears behind
Come on along dont do me wrong
Lets see what you might find
Children of the land
Children of the land
Dont misunderstand
Were all children of the land
Dont trust anyone else
To run your life and set your goals
Youve gotta be able to live with yourself
When you are getting old
Others are getting blamed
For messing your life around
Its your own fault if you complain
For letting it get you down
Children of the land
Children of the land
Dont misunderstand
Were all children of the land
Children - come on children now
Children - yeah
Children - I said children yeah
Children - come on children now
Children - of the land
Children - of the land
Children - I said of the land
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The War Of The Children
The child abuse has been the war of the children
It is going on for too long in a world like this
The children is the victim of it
It is the children who suffers more each day
Stop the child abuse now
We want to put an end to this war
Make the public aware that this exists
Love the children with all your heart
Make the children feel worth
Make them feel special
Show them respect and let them respect you
Because respect and love is a two way thing
Respect the children wishes
Make this world a safe place for our children
Teach them to listened
Let them feel welcome in this world
Let the children live there lives
When you abuse the children
You break there hearts, you are destroying there dreams
And the respect they have for you is lost
What do you get when you abuse the children?
You get no satisfaction
The children have lost there sense of worth
They don’t feel special anymore
And they don’t feel safe anymore
The children know whom they can trust and whom they can’t
Help the children to grow in a safe environment
Feel there hearts with laughter and take there sadness away
Give them the support they need each day as they live there lives
poem by Aldo Kraas
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What children know (understand)
Children know laughter
They know tears
Children know peace
They know chaos
Children know acceptance
They know rejection
Children know joy
They know pain
Children know abundance
They know lack
Children know health
They know illness
Children know fulfillment
They know emptiness
Children know hope
They know dismay
Children know love
They know hatred
What they don’t know is WHY!
poem by Namie Elisha
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We live in a society today where these children can be wanted children. Even if you don't want to keep this child after you've had it, there's plenty of young couples out there, that want children.
quote by Norma McCorvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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