A Vandaled Bus Stop
A vandaled bus stop, a cold wet day,
Bus late, as usual, in the pouring rain.
A huddled crowd, silent in the shelter
Faces as gloomy as the weather.
A child follows the tricking water down,
Body snug in winter clothing, eyes intent
On his finger tracing an imaginary land,
Oblivious of the crowd and the passing time.
A man with a moustache shifts from foot to foot
Impatient, lips tight in a silent angry line.
An old woman stares straight ahead
Apathy stamped hard in her eyes.
Not wise, just old and tired eyes.
The bus comes, tyres swishing on the rain drenched road
Money clangs into the automatic slot
While the bored bus driver punches his button.
The child's mother struggles aboard
Shopping, pushchair, child clinging to her.
No one helps.
The old woman stumbles, not yet seated
Before the bus pulls away with a jerk,
The care less driver careless of his craft.
poem by Paul Anthony
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Child Woman, Woman Child
Orbison/dees
Coo coo, thats you, wonder why I love you, you do voodoo, thunder clouds above you
Crazy, kooky, lazy spooky, oh what a clown, always around
And I have found youre a woman. child woman. woman child
Long legged woman when I see you walking you look good
Hey little woman when I hear you talking you sound good
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
Youre into my mind then youre out of my mind child woman
You wind and unwind my mind, time after time child woman ooh child woman, yeah child woman
Flying uptight, dont know where youre going, trying your kite when the wind is blowing
Funny lady, sunny, shady off to the fair, sun in your hair
Oh, youre aware youre a woman child woman, woman child
Strong minded woman when you start groovin you look fine
My kind of woman when you start movin you look fine
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
I dont see you there, I see you everywhere child woman
I dont even care -yes, I really do care child woman, ooh child woman,
Hey child woman child woman, woman child
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Would Do For You
The Mother looks into the eyes of her child,
With the love that is so deep and true
Then she hugs her child and loves her child,
And says, “ there is nothing that I would not do for you”.
She loves her child more than she does herself
She’ll places her child above all others
For the child she would die, And not even ask why,
As the child is hers, and she is the mother.
She knows she’ll will always be there for her child
No matter the pain or a reason why,
Just to see it smile or hear it laugh
It is the greatest joy that a mother wont hide.
She will follow her child throughout her life
That being the reason why she says she lives
The love is so great for a mother and her child,
That there is nothing that she would not do or give.
She thinks of her child constantly when she is alone
She knows no pain or discomfort when the child is near,
She is only here to make her child happy and wise
While hoping never to bring her child a tear.
I now look into the eyes of my wife,
The woman who I love with a love so deep and true,
As a mother loves her child, a man he loves his wife
And with her in mind I say, “ there is nothing that I wouldn't do for you”.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Precious Moments of Mothering
Here inside this church
We sat on the same pew.
While others focused
their eyes at the front aisle
and towards the pulpit,
here beside me, I found
this woman cuddling
her own baby.
She held her child
close to her bosom,
hugged her
with all her warmth,
whispered words
to her ears
and drowned her child
with her loving smiles.
The child giggled,
closed her eyes and slept,
secured and contented
in her mother's robust arms
cuddled and assured
of a peaceful world.
Here beside this woman
I remembered my three girls
who now have moved out
to manage their own life.
Here on a Sunday in this church
I journeyed to the past days.
This woman's hugging
her own child
This mother's enfolding
her child by her two
strong arms
This mother's peace
while holding her child
touched deeply my heart.
Silently tears ran through
my cheeks as silent whispers
of such a great wave of emotions
of missing my own children
while recalling the precious moments
of mothering a child.
____________________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Red Rain
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
I am standing up at the waters edge in my dream
I cannot make a single sound as you scream
It cant be that cold, the ground is still warm to touch
This place is so quiet, sensing that storm
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
Well Ive seen them buried in a sheltered place in this town
They tell you that this rain can sting, and look down
There is no blood around see no sign of pain
Hay ay ay no pain
Seeing no red at all, see no rain
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
Red rain-
Putting the pressure on much harder now
To return again and again
Just let the red rain splash you
Let the rain fall on your skin
I come to you defences down
With the trust of a child
Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
And I cant watch any more
No more denial
Its so hard to lay down in all of this
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
I see it
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
Im bathing in it
Red rain coming down
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is coming down all over me
Im begging you
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Over me in the red red sea
Over me
Over me
Red rain
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beauty of a Mother
The beauty of a woman starts
When her womb begins to grow
The child that she'll give birth
Soon will call her, “my mother”
The beauty of a mother reigns
When her arms cradle her child
And her charm shines within
Her heart full of love and care
The beauty of mother un-fades
When her hands guide her child
In all places walking side by side
To protect her child from danger
The beauty of a mother is her brain
To teach her child to read and write
To let the child know the difference
Of what is wrong and what is right
The beauty of a mother is her act
To treat her child without compare
To list none of whatsoever is best
For her child is the gem of her life
Then the beauty of mother reflects
From the eyes of her child in return
To respect, love, and care for her
When age and time set them apart
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The silent child
The silent child is not a blind child
eyes wide open while yours are closed
you speak to much and listen less
this child of yours will take over
your own creation outsmarting you
he can now see between the cracks
the child realises you are not what you sayd
that you dont do what you say you do
the silent child knows but wont speak
poem by Vincent Brisebois
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Wild Child
Ever close your eyes
ever stop and listen
ever feel alive
and you've nothing missing
you don't need a reason
let the day go on and on
Let the rain fall down
everywhere around you
give into it now
let the day surround you
you don't need a reason
let the rain go on and on
What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
a wild child
Only take the time
from the helter skelter
every day you find
everything's in kilter
you don't need a reason
let the day go on and on
Every summer sun
every winter evening
every spring to come
every autumn leaving
you don't need a reason
let it all go on and on
What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
a wild child
What a day
what a day to take to
What a way
what a way
to make it through
What a day
what a day to take to
a wild child
What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da-da-da
what a way
what a way
to make it through
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da-da-da
Da-da-da
Da-da-da-da-da-da
What a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
a wild child
what a day
what a day to take to
song performed by by Enya from A Day Without Rain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Creator And A Barren Woman
A barren woman had been praying for a child for long,
Then after many years without hope the Creator heard her prayers;
Then the Creator said to her: 'A year today you will give birth'.
This is the story of the Creator and a barren woman:
A year after the barren woman gave birth to a child.
Now, she started to complain again to the Creator;
Because, she has no time to take care of the child.
'Oh, i am too tired of taking care of this child';
And the Creator was very patience.
'Oh, i cannot take care of this child any longer';
And the Creator was very patience again.
'Oh, i have given my husband a child but i cannot take care of him';
This child was a son and then, the Creator said to the woman:
'When you were baren you did cried out for a child but,
Now that you've got one you also crying daily for his upkeep';
'Well, the wants of mankind are many and mankind is NOT satisfied'.
Yes, we are all living on this earth;
With stories and the things that we see around us;
But mankind is really NOT satisfied, whether barren or with a child.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mother, I May Have Been A Naughty Child
Mother, I may have been a naughty child,
But I am your child nevertheless!
You own the world, mother, you are the queen of the world,
And look at me, I go about in the habit of a beggar.
You are bent on neglecting me,
But I love you anyway, it is you, only you that I call upon.
Just as a child runs to his mother even after she has scolded him,
So do I run to you.
How could you push me away from you, mother,
You are my mother, are you not?
Oh, why did you cast me away, mother,
Leave me to play in the dust?
I would have been a better child,
Had only you been a little more kind to me.
I am sad and angry, mother,
I shall go away anywhere my eyes and my feet take me to.
I do not care now whether i live or die now, mother,
I am going away.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson
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The Weight Of The World
So we wrote
On precedents and angels
We build a book
We build a road out of nothing but a saying
Out of governments and police we build a book
Of how the things we know should be
So when a man comes with a difference
A woman comes with an idea
We crush it down to nothing in the fear that we will lose it
Open up the books
Im guilty of it, too
Just like all of us
The information flies without us through
And say the way
This may have leave my head run over
And pass through a night so black, I cant see you, oh
Hope from the speeches spoken in
Hope from the speeches made day in, day out
With money paid
And adverising raging
A woman and a child sleep well as the day ends
Raising me up
Raising me like a man, oh man (? )
Oh mother everything good Ive gained Ive gained from you
Oh and mother everything Ive know I learned from you, oh
But, the reign in the house so no one sees me
Oh, should we brothers and sisters upheave it?
I read a book of a man most worshipped
A man who most worshipped
For ideas and for the birth of freedom he showed
Well, in, oh in twenty years
He begged the revolutions come
So that no pig-headed bastard would steal you and i
From...my fun (? )
Rain in the eyes
Rain in the mourning eye
Oh rain/reign in the love of my mother, my brothers
And I hear the voices of women calling loudly and (here,
Holding, holding, holding)
And nothing should address this like our love for each other...
This land is your land
This land is my land
From california to new york island
From the redwood forest
To the gulf stream waters
This land belongs to you and me
Rain/reign in the eyes that we should lead it
And the brotherly love and go away
And rain/reign in the eyes that we should lead it
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melancholy Child
A baby with a baby just barely seventeen
My mother mourned her innocence
While she bounced on her knee
A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials
Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child
The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song
My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home
A whippoorwill on a window sill - it should have made me smile
But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child
Now a restless blood runs in our family
I thought I could outrun the emptiness inside of me
So I went a little crazy, went a little wild
Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child
I met a kind and gentle man who thinks the world of me
And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees
But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes
He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child
You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee
A Southern sense of humor and you got someone like me
There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled
They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child
And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of a melancholy child
Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amakeia
Protected by the mountains
and covered by bushes
the ruin of an old farmhouse stands,
where the shadow
of the past
still falls heavy and menacing.
Lulling the old black house maid Amakeia
rocked the baby of a white pioneer
softly to sleep
and she was faithful
to her promise,
to try and raise the child.
When she discovered
that danger was sneaking nearer,
she went to hide
in the mountains
with the baby.
As the dark night came
the assegais rattled
against the shields
of a horde of Maxosas,
that jeered like animals
and gathered around the woman and child.
No pleading could stop the blades
where the woman with her body
tried to protect the child
and the wild savage war gang,
speared the woman and child
again and again.
When the winter wind cries in the Amatola cliffs
no devil can still hide there
and the song
of the old woman
cuts right trough marrow and bone,
while she sings
for the child to be silent
and the murder of woman and child
still hits right through
a nation of savages.
[Reference: Amakeia by A.G. Visser. An incident during 1834 war. Assegai = A spear.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dancing the invisible line
Some like to sit on fences, admire the view in safety;
some are born hurdlers; .
draw a line, and some minds shrink back;
others can’t wait to compete, first over wins…
poets, said the sage, should always
walk on the edge of madness…
ah, remember when you were a child,
walking down the path one foot within,
one foot beyond?
‘a line of poetry’…every line, a line,
one foot beyond, one foot within –
prose, verse; rhymed, unrhymed;
metered, unmetered; actual, fantasy;
elevated, jokey; personal, impersonal;
tragic, comic; a road taken, or not taken..
oh, so many lines
that others painted on the road –
dance down that road,
one foot beyond, one foot within..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Wind Child Love Embracing
wind child still
I see your joy laughing eyes
wind child still
I see your warm eyes laughing
wind child still
I see your eyes green healing
wind child still
I see an emerald sea your eyes
wind child still
I see your soft dove brown eyes
wind child still
I see your fawn eyes new life running
wind child still
I see your dark black eyes blessing
wind child still
I see your soul dark passion eyes
wind child still
I see your love welcoming eyes
wind child still
I see your smile universe embracing
wind child still
I see your love of God’s creativity spreading
wind child still
I see stars in heaven smile in your soul eyes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Farewell, Dick!
He bowed and he doffed his tricorn hat
As the wagon both lurched and swayed,
It rattled on over the cobblestones,
And the mud in the alleyways,
The crowd had cheered when he passed them by
As he stood, so debonair,
In a new frock coat and a pair of pumps
With a ribbon tied up in his hair.
They rumbled along the Tyburn road
From York, as the people stared,
Then came to a halt at Knavesmire
Approaching the 'Three Legged Mare',
He mounted the ladder boldly,
Stamped his foot to allay his fear,
Then spoke to the executioner
In a voice both calm and clear.
The rope was knotted around his neck,
He spoke to the crowd at last,
He bid farewell to his countrymen
And the darker deeds of his past,
Undaunted then, he stepped off the rung
And fell, to swing in the air,
While the crowd was hushed, and the wagon pushed
To receive his body there!
But up on the hill was a phantom horse,
As black as a lump of coal,
Its eyes were gleaming, its coat a-shine,
Its breath, pale mist in the cold,
She started, reared, as her master hung
Then galloped right through the press,
As his soul dropped out of his body there,
She was waiting for him, Black Bess!
He leapt unthinking astride her back,
Cast one swift glance behind,
His body hung from the rope, he saw,
But he somehow didn't mind!
He doffed his hat to the sightless crowd
Then wheeled away on his horse,
And galloped away to where phantoms play
When their lives have run their course!
But a tiny child in the press had seen,
Was blessed with second sight,
She watched him wave to the mourning crowd
And disappear in the night;
She laughed and waved in the mother's arms
Who had cried 'til she was sick,
But the child then wiped her tears away
And called out - 'Farewell, Dick! '
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Chance
I do not remember who you are
everything escapes from my hand
through the spaces between my fingers
into this nameless land
My life is woven out of water
noting stays and everything goes
my memory is a river
forever running its way out of history
I am nothing desired
I am nothing stopped
I come and go any time and any way
alone and ten times alone
I do not have a single breath to mourn for
And always I give out myself for souvenirs
each time passing for something else
for you and those like you
and what I am will be
what I will be for each one of you
the city of flowers, eyes of the loam
describe shelter: piece of crap
>weak roof, could be blown off anytime
>cardboard walls, easy to put apart when gov’t wants them out
malnourished child reading book
>lamp source of light
>skips parts with words s/he doesnt understand
>books saved by father from fire, father loved books
>father died trying to save more things, leaving behind: 2 children + wife
>mother died giving birth to a still born
whistles from outside
>sister is back, she shouts at the perverts
child comes out with a stick
>drunkards earn enough to get drunk
>they push him/her, throws a pail of water
>dirty water dripping from body of the child
>”useless aral, you should work, inutil! ”
sister helps him/her, shouts at men
>no one bothers to help a “dirty” woman
sister prepares food she bought
>she coughs, months na ang ubo
>angry, “dont turn on lamp unless kailangan, mahal gas”
sister leaves
>not touching the child for fear of infection
>”matulog ka na, tagal pa ako balik”
>puts off the lamp
malnourished child turns on the lamp
>reads book again
* reprinted from a friend's collection
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Cried
seeing her child
part from her, the mother cried
she cried hard
for just one more glimpse
of her dear child
ruthless was the society
who didn't accept the mother's child
though the mother loved him loads
despite knowing his illness couldn't be cured
everyone rejected him
no one was ready to accept
though he was one of them
the mother cried and cried loud
yet no one came to help from the huge crowd
her child wasn't different
from the others in line
what made him unique
was just the way people looked at him....
poem by Areena Arora
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