To step aside
that children
have never desisted to play at
even good weather
menacing its life
they remain to play at
with the gladness; joy
childhood
while mother
silent mesh
nets mesh
fish
what do not willing
to step aside.
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Related quotes
Play Children Play
I came home late one night,
In my door stood my daughter-in-law,
Park your car, I have something to tell you,
As I entered the door, she said, "Mother left today."
Play children play, your mother left today.
There is no where for a writer to start,
When his wife leaves and breaks her children's heart,
When she walked out, she never said good by,
No one has ever known why.
Play children play, today your Mother went away.
Many things we planned to do that day,
For no reason she just walked away,
Twenty years has past and gone,
Some how we took care of our home,
You children have married, but still alone.
Play children play, for the day your Mother went away.
poem by Kenneth McKinley Davis
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Fish
Fish me up in nets.
Mesh closed to flesh,
I'm pressed.
Inspect me like the rest.
Then toss me back...
To catch up with the others,
In school.
Before it is addressed
I confessed 'playing hooky'.
I 'ain't' no fool!
I'm cool with that!
At least I wont be left,
To flip and flop around!
Like those other clowns on deck.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Mesh
A Mesh
Over the loathsome lying culture,
I see a hovering leading vulture,
Came from the distant alien land,
Each bony joint to apart, disband,
And eat the last remains of flesh,
Under the false pretentious mesh,
Of terrorism.
poem by Shahida Latif
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Children And Their Immortal Shelter.
Children And Their Immortal Shelter, -To My Divine Sisters And Brothers.
Go on go on with sense’s slaughter,
Of your biological parasites,
The Mother Divine, cries and whines,
Seeing her children’s plight.
Sinners were they never not,
No sin had they ever brought,
But in senses’ play, on their clays,
Their Mother, they have forgot.
The mystic play, on the ground,
Goes round and round,
With sports and, operas incessant,
The referee’s whistle, -conscience’ bell
And captain’s dictate not to make a foul,
Remain, remain unheard, -although they haul.
The mother wishes, the mother cherishes,
First. a righteous play, and then,
To feel Her origin, the clay within green,
For her children, by their birth, are divine.
Time She has allotted, -of incessant births,
For playing with Her children on this earth.
The child-like innocence, with no ignorance,
And Faith-live, -for mother’s anchor,
Open to the children, the recognition of immortal shelter.
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
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Childhood - The 21st Century
How advanced they are, these children of the future,
Like small adults, within their tiny frames,
They grow up in a fast 'speed driven' culture,
Where 'learning pressures' change their kind of games,
Where is their childhood, in all this hurly burly,
Where is their pure untainted view of things,
Why do they have to grow so old, so early,
And lose the joy that only childhood brings.
Our childhood was filled with thoughts of joy and gladness,
We lived our lives, oblivious to the world
And all the hardships, wars, the grief and sadness,
We stood, waiting for our lives to be unfurled.
We had time to grow, and gain an understanding,
Of each new phase, each change along the way,
As we grew slowly, our senses all expanding,
So with clarity, we slowly changed our play.
We had a framework on which to build and flourish,
Slow and steady, this was no rushed affair,
Taking each step, then step by step to nourish,
Our childhood, so finally adulthood we would share.
What will become, of these 'New Century' learners,
I doubt if they, a dreamy childhood see,
Will they then tell to all those bright discerners
Of their own, how they remembered their childhood to be.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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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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Seashore
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds
the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand
and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats
and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,
even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle.
The sea plays with children,
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky,
ships get wrecked in the trackless water,
death is abroad and children play.
On the seashore of endless worlds is the
great meeting of children.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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On the Seashore
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Play To Play
Play to play
Not for home
Not for bed...
Play to
The ground...
Play with
Ball and the bat
OR run and play...
Live your body
Good for health
Have the nice...!
Twice the day
Morning and
Evening go to play...
That is secerat
Of your life
Understand
To try with
Play to play
Day by day....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Hunger For The Flesh
Spare a thought for the souls
Who cannot leave this earth
The attachments bind so tightly, not a chance
Not a chance of a new birth
The river gently beckons
But the answer is no
Gripping their illusions
They cannot let them go
Hunger for the flesh
Leads them to a weaker heart
Mortals who imprisoned themselves
Let them have a new start
Wishing to hold onto life and all its games
Singing their lament song
Holding back the change
They came here for to dance
To learn and not to cling
Holding onto life
As if it were the important thing
Hunger for the flesh
Hunger for security
Caught up in the mesh
Caught up for eternity
Hunger for the flesh
Hunger for security
Caught up in the mesh
Caught up for eternity
The river gently beckons
But the answer is no
Gripping their illusions
They cannot let them go
Hunger for the flesh
Leads them to a weaker heart
Mortals who imprison themselves
Let them have a new start
Let them have a new start
Hunger for the flesh
Hunger for security
Caught up in the mesh
Caught up for eternity
Hunger for the flesh
Hunger for security
Caught up in the mesh
Holding back the change
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem: 'Playtime Slayer
- 6. May.2006 -
Unsuspecting children play, nothing seems amiss
They are jumping, they are running, they’re just ‘being kids’
Unsuspecting children play, unnoticing this little girl
She is crying, she is dying, carrying the weight of the world
Unsuspecting children play, laughing to themselves
They are so unknowing of this little girls living hell
Unsuspecting children play, having so much fun
This girl is used to being bullied, but she’s not the only one
Unsuspecting children play, unknowing of this pain
They don’t even see this girl… they don’t let her join their game
Unsuspecting children play, as a young girls life falls apart
They don’t even suspect; this little girl ‘self-harms’
poem by Rachel Ann Clark
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Final Phase
Where did all the hippies go
to a Bohemian retirement home
where they play the
''Grateful Dead''
to soothe their aged
techno heads
contented living out their lives
like the poem in their mind
where Altruism isn't dead
just hidden in the mesh of time
poem by Adryan Rotica
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Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.
quote by Fred Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Grieve
when you grieve upon the death of your beloved
you only grieve upon yourself
if you only try to look around you
they do not believe in the sorrow of your grieving
the birds still play with their wings and sing
their fledgelings take a bath in the fountains
and preoccupies themselves with the art of flying
the flowers still bloom and leaves greener as ever
the seeds sprout the twigs grow another inch
the trees still look for the rays of the sun
the sea remain faithful to the accommodation of the waves
the winds still blow the sails of ships that arrive and leave the port
the seagulls keep their gaze on the school of fish
the fishermen keep watch for the spot to throw their nets
the children on the beach play
as their mothers watch with glee
do not be overwhelmed with what you feel
soon the sad feelings on fleets
shall flee as flitting as they must be
take your time watch the world in locomotion
prepare your heart, i know, i wait, for your emotion.
for soon, it must beat for me, to you i pray.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My father was a farmer and my mother was a farmer, but, my childhood was very good. I am very grateful for my childhood, because it was full of gladness and good humanity.
quote by Roberto Benigni
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The chief's wisdom is a mesh of old stories, good and bad.
Play Play
play school
children play
teacher play
enjoy the life...
after school
teacher not play...
but
play on...
teacher at black board...
children play on
not book with pen...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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L6,212
the net with lovely mesh
catches me breathlessly, i
am breathless in this
capture, and unlike those
who want to be free, i,
have learned to love
this captivity, this mesh,
the hands are ready to
take me out from here,
but i am refusing them, i,
love it here, my heart in
captivity has found meaning
i, am, growing the flowers
of lovely prison in my skin,
i am a captive scented
to the perfume of a affection
who is more willing to
preach that freedom
too, is a dangerous matter,
the choices too many to
behold, to be understood,
the responsibility too huge
thus, killing us slowly, here,
i am freed from duty, i,
am sitting on a sofa, with
nothing in my head but
the state of having nothing
of thinking and doing nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gift Of The Day
You may see one of your grand children
Like James Perry may perish but your grand
Mother James Wall may be well and alive
The breath you take is not your right but
a gift of the day, recess is your right after
hard work, so close your eyes, sit and pray,
and lets your thoughts play, open your heart
and lets the rays of love and hope enter
lots of hate has been spread by the rouges
no more any apathy now we need some good
of them just to feel better, come close, more
close to nature, every moment is a momentous
delight, life is life- a source of joy
weather is weather it is never heavy or light.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Setting The Small Fry Free
a small fry
is caught the
net with a very
fine mesh
you are the fisherman
who catches the small fish
in your hand
and then you sail back
to the sea
setting the small fry free!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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