
Momma Welfare Roll
Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes clichéd by
Repetition. Her children, strangers
To childhood's toys, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people's property.
Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bureaucrats for
Her portion.
'They don't give me welfare.
I take it.'
poem by Maya Angelou

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Related quotes
Truth Through Repetition
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
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through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
hrough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth t
rough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth th
ough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth thr
ugh repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth thro
gh repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth throu
h repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth throug
repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
epetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through r
petition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through re
etition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through rep
tition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repe
ition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repet
tion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repeti
ion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetit
on Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiti
n Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetitio
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiion
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
ruth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition T
uth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tr
th through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tru
h through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Trut
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
poem by David Keig

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We Prefer 'Butter' Beans
What do I contribute to my being tenacious?
A dislike for lima beans.
It seems as if my sister, Mimmie, and I...
Ate them everyday.
And my mother would say to us...
'Be thankful for what you've got.
Some people aren't even eating that.'
To say to us...
Times then were 'meager'.
'So eat and shut up.'
Well,
That was many years ago.
Long before my younger sisters, Tammy and Lisa...
Acquired a craving for those weekly 'Grinder' sandwiches,
Our dad would buy for them.
And they would cling onto them as if they possessed,
Fort Knox.
And Tammy would look at me,
As 'if' I had better not...
Ask for a piece to taste.
She's the one most opionated.
To this very day,
My sister, Mim and I can not stand lima beans!
But...
For some reason,
We prefer 'butter' beans.
And...
You can not tell us,
They are the same thing as those 'limas'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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For Many Life Is A Hard Battle
For many life is a hard battle but most rise again after a fall
And from life babies do begin learning long before they learn how to crawl
It would be nice to stay innocent for a lifetime but the innocence of childhood doesn't last
The years seem to go by so quickly and time as we know ticks on fast
'Tis sad to think some children have their innocence from them stolen and are exploited in the worst possible way
That they cannot look back on a happy childhood does seem so sad to have to say
The crimes committed against children are not easy crimes to forgive
Those guilty of such terrible atrocities with their shame must find it hard to live
I consider myself to be lucky my childhood years I did enjoy
Compared to many I feel privileged I did enjoy life as a boy
In the green countryside west of Millstreet where I grew into a young man
I learned about life from my mentors and my enduring love of Nature began
For so many life is a hard battle and they've never known of happy years
And they must live with their haunting memories of their unhappy childhood years.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Why? In loneliness we keep doing things
like lima beans,
loneliness ripens and from its pods
things begin to drop
soundlessly on top of the grass
the season change
and the pods rot and the beans dry in the sun
and gets wet in the rain
and then something sprouts again
another form of lonely lima beans
grow on the soil
loneliness begets loneliness
and forever keeps the cycle
the world knows this
in fact, it is this that keeps it going.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Early Works -Years
Children playing with their toys
dotted around the floor
peer at you with questioning eyes
as if you are a stranger in their lair.
At work all day and out of sight
but never out of mind
the only time your presence felt
is when its time to go to bed.
Oh, if work were only a dream
more time you could spend with them
playing games and being a father and a friend,
but to live you must work, toil all the day
missing the years in which your children play.
6 November 1978
poem by David Harris

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Immigrants Help The Nation
Give illegal immigrants work visas when they come to the states,
Let them work for 5 years to make U S of A great.
If they learn English and commit no crimes,
they can become a US citizen within that time.
No need to have babies to add to our welfare plight,
Community groups to help them fit in and not feel spite.
Make sure all their children get a birthday cake,
to help celebrate their birthday and make them feel great.
Written By Christina Sunrise on February 10,2012
www.suechevalier.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise

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Ghost Sutra
Children, children, play on the grounds.
For years will pass and you will feel the bound.
Row your boat down the endless way.
Dreams of dreams covers the grey day.
Conform or die is what we live.
A simple way to lie and give.
They made up stories that they fed.
So play on children you're already dead.
poem by Khembottra Oum

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Sees With A Desire Sought
Like my father.
And his father before him...
I was the eldest.
And made quick to grow.
With a teaching of life early.
And many times angry,
I had to let my childhood go.
Used to set examples.
And enforced to do chores I had to do...
Did not sit well with me at all,
As I saw other children playing games...
With a loving to do it too!
But as I grew older with skills I had been taught,
I still observe those 'children'...
Playing the same games with those teachings.
The very same games they have handed to their children...
With beliefs a maturity comes to one automatically.
Yet...
One does not achieve the meaning of responsibility,
Unless there is an influence one sees with a desire sought.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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When Toys
Unfortunately someone did not have any toys
In the forgotton childhood...hides my attic.
Ingaged, they now play with the other toys
between the wooden rails...ironwood is....
Butterfly wings stick together while others cry
pulling back the wind they fly not far apart....
Jack and Jill they have no other toys
some where In your lost childhood...
When hills had eyes I came back to say
When toys..........
T.G.
poem by Is It Poetry

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Simple Simon
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone
Oh, never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Well she's just a simple girl, yeah
Spends her time on crossword games and cigarettes, ah
She lives all alone in a military zone where sam's can't get in
Facts and evidence, she probably give you no clues away
No clues away
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone, oh never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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PC Games
PC Games are children's favorite nowadays
Oh! those days have gone
When children used to play in the fields
They used to play football, cricket and hockey...
Now children are busy playing PC games
Various games like Farm Ville, City ville, Empire Earth, San Andreas, Age of Empires etc
Some of them are so addicted to it
They don't study
But others are exceptional
Playing those PC games are harmful for eyes, health etc
Those games are 3D and 2D...
PC games...
What about those old games?
poem by Z.I. Mahmud

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Toy Drive Public Service Announcement
Oooooooo
Merry christmas, children
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooooooo
Well, down in eugene we got girls and boys
Who wake up on christmas morning but dont find any toys
If theyre lucky their healthy mom and dad come to chat
About how theyre missed, but you can change all that
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooo, for the children
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooo, for the children
Yeah, were the beach boys for crystal ship and toys
cause this christmas we want you to help spread the joy
It would feel so good, it would make them feel well
It would cheer em all up at childrens hospital
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooo, for the children
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooo, for the children
Oooooooo
Merry christmas, children
Bring your toys to crystal ship
Oooooooo
Merry christmas, children
Christmas toys to crystal ship
Oooooooo
song performed by by Beach Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dogs Are Shakespearean, Children Are Strangers
Dogs are Shakespearean, children are strangers.
Let Freud and Wordsworth discuss the child,
Angels and Platonists shall judge the dog,
The running dog, who paused, distending nostrils,
Then barked and wailed; the boy who pinched his sister,
The little girl who sang the song from Twelfth Night,
As if she understood the wind and rain,
The dog who moaned, hearing the violins in concert.
—O I am sad when I see dogs or children!
For they are strangers, they are Shakespearean.
Tell us, Freud, can it be that lovely children
Have merely ugly dreams of natural functions?
And you, too, Wordsworth, are children truly
Clouded with glory, learned in dark Nature?
The dog in humble inquiry along the ground,
The child who credits dreams and fears the dark,
Know more and less than you: they know full well
Nor dream nor childhood answer questions well:
You too are strangers, children are Shakespearean.
Regard the child, regard the animal,
Welcome strangers, but study daily things,
Knowing that heaven and hell surround us,
But this, this which we say before we’re sorry,
This which we live behind our unseen faces,
Is neither dream, nor childhood, neither
Myth, nor landscape, final, nor finished,
For we are incomplete and know no future,
And we are howling or dancing out our souls
In beating syllables before the curtain:
We are Shakespearean, we are strangers.
poem by Delmore Schwartz

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Oh Childhood, Where Art Thou?
Oh childhood, where art thou?
Oh please, oh please,
Can you return to me now?
I miss the innocence,
I miss the games;
Hell, I even miss the bullies
Calling everybody bad names.
I miss the times where you'd watch childish TV
And none of your friends found it an embarrassment.
Now, every time I'm caught watching young kids' channels,
I feel like I'm suffering constant harassment.
Where did the days go when my body
Was as small and fit as a fiddle?
Those who grow and choose to be mature
To me shall always be a riddle.
What happened to those chasing games I used to play?
Now I spend my decent mornings needing to shave.
I cannot comprehend why all people must grow old
And why they can't live in the world of fairy-tales told.
Where's my squeaky voice gone?
Why have my chubby cheeks disappeared?
My puberty and hormones have overtaken me
Precisely how I've always feared.
I must now work and slave
For very little wage
In contrast to the freedom and toys I had
From the moment I was released from my baby-cage.
Oh childhood, where art thou?
You should know how much I miss you so.
Sadly, there is no turning the clock back now
As I am forced to perform for the adult-life show.
poem by Stephen Cahill Furlong

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Why Do Children Want To Grow
Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday
poem by Kaila George

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The DirtyWhore
The Dirty Whore
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
With her heavy hips and juicy lips
She is bound by her pimp who gives her, her daily dose
Crack Coke heroine or lsd
In them she her emotions pores
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
As she tickles your dick and gives you new kicks
Biting down your balls to take it all
She massages your chest as she bears her breasts
Coming close yet staying a far
As her panties she removes to make new moves
Saddeling up your prick up and down she rolls
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Her job is tough her beat is rough
Pimps and pushers her companions at night
She dines with gangsters and cops alike
Getting paid well and getting beaten at times
Taking pills to giving new thrills
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Either at street corners, in bazaar's or mandi's
My friends you are bound to meet this raandi
500 for a blow 5000 for a shag
She even carries rubbers in her bag
To please you is her job
But you of your morality she will rob
Beware of the whore the dirty little whore
poem by Anuj Tikku

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What have we to give, anyway?
everything we see in this world seem pointless
we begin to be like ordinary routines
everyday, this everyday, so dulling and lulling
the boredom that becomes a kingdom
the pointers that do not work
what they say have become lies
and so useless
we want to prove that we make the difference?
when we arrived here that circle is already a circle
and triangles have always remained triangles
the clouds cottony and always drift
and the roving rivers always flow to the sea
never to itself and be so salty and bloated
what is the point then of my being here?
i have nothing to prove to myself
much less to you whom i do not really know
you have been a secret to yourself
and i have also curled to myself
like a comma to my phrases
i never asked to be here
that is the point and that will make the point pointless
there were no conditions attached
there was no contract that beforehand i signed
and so? What is the difference?
come let us play under the sun
let us plunge into the river of life
it is meant to be fun
there are no bills to pay for this life
freely given and must freely be returned
there is only this play and we take the games
the masks we wear if you flare and dare
and then if you are really honest enough
with nothing to prove with nothing to be proud of
take this nudity plunging into the river of life
without guilt without shame because we were all
born naked and too innocent
because we are the children of God
and like fathers and mothers
God only wants us to run and play and smile
and be with him, what more can we give, anyway?
Proud self-righteous one, do you offer now
Your righteousness and morality?
Does God need them? Or does God love you?
May God have mercy. God has always been Love.
Why worry brother and sister? Smile and be happy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Shiny Toys
Shiny toys--right on time
Shiny toys--right on time
Shiny toys
Im reading people rags in the checkout lane
Look, heres a hunk--heres a honey
Celebrated people and their claims to fame
Heres a boy and his money
And pictures of the winners in the latest
Ratepoll games
Whatever makes you yahoo
Whatever makes your time feel satisfyin
Whatever makes you
Oh Im so excited
Whatever makes you feel like youre right on time
Party night
Good bands all over town
(good, good, good)
Mega lights and supersonic sounds
(good, good, good)
Flashy boys and girls that really play
(good, good, good)
Shiny toys, when its over dont you
Hate to have to put your toys away
Shiny toys--i love my porsche
Shiny toys
Shiny toys--i love my porsche
Shiny toys
Simple joys
Walking on the beach at the end of the day
Between the sand and the seagulls
Watching the glorious sun setting on the bay
Here comes a boy and his beagle
Walking with a man in a toupee
And a man with his head shaved
Whatever makes you mmmm, mmmm
Whatever makes your time feel satisfyin
Whatever makes you mmmmm, mmmm
Whatever makes you feel like youre right on time
Party night
Super bands all over town
(good, good, good)
Super lights and supersonic sounds
(good, good, good)
Flashy boys and girls that really play
(good, good, good)
Shiny toys, when its over
Dont you hate to have to put your toys away
Shiny toys--right on time
Shiny toys--right on time
Shiny toys--right on time
song performed by by Joni Mitchell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childrens Christmas Story
12/05/10
Santa s workshop is as busy as can be
All the elves working frantically.
Christmas day is almost here, and the toys
Must be ready for the Christmas cheer.
The elves have but one thing in mind
And that’s to get the toys made in time.
All year long they are making these toys
And they play like all girls and boys.
For every 500 toys they make
They could swim in the indoor lake.
They have picnics and outdoor games
And no two are ever the same.
Have you ever played hide and seek in the snow?
Where you’re dressed all in white and they don’t know.
Or ridden on a caribou
and so many Other things that you can do.
Or playing with polar bears, walruses and seals.
Imagine how that would feel.
Or putting on the tails and tie
And wobbling with the penguins side by side.
There are so many games that the elves do play
And that’s one of the reasons that they stay.
Everyone is family, and that’s the way
It was meant to be.
They only know of love and joy
And they apply it to every toy.
So when you think of Santa and the north pole
This is the thought that you must hold.
poem by Louis Rams

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Toys Bring Joy
Toys are to obey and part with,
Their answers solve the goldsmith.
Toys bare all secrets of youth,
Of childhood, of over-stretched tooth.
Toys may not harm the child or infant,
As well, the accidents emerge like an elephant.
May the toy bring joy, wonderful jokes,
Like anything that breaks the blokes.
poem by Naveed Akram

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