Jack-In-The-Box
Hi, I'm God. It's dark, lonely and quiet in here, now,
On this dusty shelf.
No more children to come and twist me to life;
I used to thrive at that,
Popping out and making them laugh!
Now, nothing.
But yesterday, something-
A mouse came by and straddled my handle:
If only it he had pulled down...
I could have given it a terrible fright.
But now the silent night;
And my red and white striped shirt keeps me not a bit warm.
I long for the sun to flow on the shelf;
I wish I could play with myself,
But I am without hands;
Only the hope to be seen by a passing boy,
Who will be curious,
Who will think I'm only a toy.
poem by Stan Petrovich

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Related quotes

All of us can think of a book... that we hope none of our children have taken off the shelf. But if I have the right to remove that book from the shelf -that work I abhor- then you also have exactly the same right and so does everyone else. And then we have no books left on the shelf for any of us.
quote by Katherine Paterson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wallflower
I remember when I was young,
the wallflower I used to be.
I would sit and watch
others gaze into each other’s eyes,
seeing the passion burning there.
All the time I was thinking,
will this ever happen to me?
Many times, I tried to excerpt myself,
and for my effort
received questioning stares.
Who is this weirdo?
Where did he come from?
It was a frustrating time, for this wallflower,
who on the shelf would remain.
I had no chat up lines,
only a pen and pad,
everyone who looked at me,
must have thought that I was mad.
I’d go to a party on the odd occasion I was invited,
sit in the corner on my own.
No one would talk to the odd man out.
Therefore, I would leave,
just the way I had come,
no one on my arm,
for that lonely trek home.
All the time I wondered,
is this the way my life is going to be.
A wallflower on a lonely shelf.
Shyness is an awful thing,
and it is very lonely.
For friends seem so very few.
I found out much later.
That I just had to let myself go.
Much to my surprise in doing it.
I was no longer a wallflower on a lonely shelf.
poem by David Harris

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No Comment
Oil on troubled water
Grease on squeaky wheel
Quiet as a mouse am I
Not saying what I feel
To sit not…
Across a table
To tell you not…
What I’m able
Best to keep
It to myself
Store truth away
Upon the shelf
Oil on troubled water
Quiet as a mouse am I
Keepin’ me thoughts to meself
With a knowin’ wink o’ me eye
poem by David Whalen

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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi

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Surprise in Japan - Our Rattling Plates
earthquake
teutonic plates rattle
our plates
earthquake
rattling our nerves
the plates on the shelf
softly rattling
to an earthquake
our plates on the shelf
ratting plates
our seismic
detector
rattling plates
oh it is the earthquake
bothering us again
Ring of Fire
every now and then
our plates rattle
rattling plates
a belief in fate keeps
my heart calm
rattling plates
i put my life in
the hands of god
Japan is on one of the most siesmic proned region of the world called ring of fire. In our apartment, every now and then, the plates we stack one over the other on the shelf would rattle. When the earthquake was
strong enough, they would jump off the shelf. It was a surprise to me at first when I heard our plates rattled every now and then especially at night.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Dead Babies
Dead Babies
Little Betty ate a pound of aspirin
She got them from the shelf upon the wall
Betty's mommy wasn't there to save her
She didn't hear her little baby call
(Wah!)
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't want you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Daddy is an agrophile in Texas
Mommy's on the bar most every night
Little Betty's sleeping in the graveyard
Living there in burgundy and white
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't love you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
Goodbye, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
Betty, so long
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't need you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
song performed by by Iced Earth

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Intimidation
Getting shrunk like a shrinking violet
Too stiffened by a fearful Self
Lost opportunities she cannot get
She is one dusty jar on a shelf.
Secure in that musty four walls
Of her cabinet shelf she finds comfort
Unable to find her life purpose at all
Stifled her chances by low self-worth.
Intimidation is what keeps her fenced
Tapes her mouth shut she cannot speak
Deafens her ears, her mind is silenced
Success is something that she fails to seek.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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The Golden Teddy Bear
The golden teddy bear
sits upon the shelf
and waits for his child to come home
For then he can comfort
and love his child
forever and ever
On a dark night
or a dream fright
he comforts his child forever
The golden teddy bear
sits upon the shelf
and waits for his child to come home
poem by Emily Heath

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Dark Ages
I am coming out of dark ages
And I lived half way through my life
Also I got my hand dirty in the mud a long time ago
I did it and got my tshirt and that job is over
I am coming out of dark ages
Because I spent most of my life in dark ages
And I saw so many dark skies while I went through my life in dark ages
I am coming ou of the dark ages
To help the children in their daily life
By teaching what is right and wrong
Because the children needs to learn what is right and wrong
So they don't became a criminal when they grew up
Because here on earrth are full of criminals already and we have more than What we can handle
I am coming out of the dark ages
To show my love to the children that lives here on the earth with us
I am coming out of the dark ages
Because I want to play with the children everyday here on the earth Because I know that I can make the children happy for once
poem by Aldo Kraas

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The Gentle Water Bird (for Mary Gilmore)
In the far days, when every day was long,
Fear was upon me and the fear was strong,
Ere I had learned the recompense of song.
In the dim days I trembled, for I knew
God was above me, always frowning through,
And God was terrible and thunder-blue.
Creeds the discoloured awed my opening mind,
Perils, perplexities - what could I find? -
All the old terror waiting on mankind.
Even the gentle flowers of white and cream,
The rainbow with its treasury of dream,
Trembled because of God's ungracious scheme.
And in the night the many stars would say
Dark things unaltered in the light of day:
Fear was upon me even in my play.
There was a lake I loved in gentle rain:
One day there fell a bird, a courtly crane:
Wisely he walked, as one who knows of pain.
Gracious he was and lofty as a king:
Silent he was, and yet he seemed to sing
Always of little children and the Spring.
God? Did he know him? It was far he flew?.
God was not terrible and thunder-blue:
- It was a gentle water bird I knew.
Pity was in him for the weak and strong,
All who have suffered when the days were long
And he was deep and gentle as a song.
As a calm soldier in a cloak of grey
He did commune with me for many a day
Till the dark fear was lifted far away.
Sober-apparelled, yet he caught the glow:
Always of Heaven would he speak, and low,
And he did tell me where the wishes go.
Kinsfolk of his it was who long before
Came from the mist (and no one knows the shore)
Came with the little children to the door.
Was he less wise than those birds long ago
Who flew from God (He surely willed it so)
Bearing great happiness to all below?
Long have I learned that all his speech was true;
I cannot reason it - how far he flew -
God is not terrible nor thunder-blue.
Sometimes, when watching in the white sunshine,
Someone approaches - I can half define
All the calm beauty of that friend of mine.
Nothing of hatred will about him cling:
Silent - how silent - but his heart will sing
Always of little children and the Spring.
poem by John Shaw Neilson

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The Poet's Significant Other - for Mary and Todd
On the shelf above the crackling fire,
the day’s work over, shadows swaying and flickering
across the room, in the firelight’s glow;
here is love abiding
On the shelf above the crackling fire
a few slim books, some of them poetry, some of them signed;
open them and the world spills out
tumbles laughing and crying, shouting
like children home from school with stories;
like grandparents reminiscing over photos with a smile;
like the last of the night’s pillow talk
one already eyes closed, the other treasuring thought
On the shelf above the crackling fire
two bookends hold the books in place
pressing lightly against each other
as two lovers walking through a door, a gate, from here to there
one bookend’s image we know well
familiar to us from the books
How little we know, of that other bookend
without which, without whom,
there might not be these books, lightly pressing
on the shelf above love’s glow
poem by Michael Shepherd

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The Night of Fright
A dim night,
A chilly night,
A quiet night,
A dark night,
A cold night,
A silent night,
A scary night,
A desperate night,
The screaming fight
and the murderous height,
It was the night of Fright
poem by Sayjel Mistry

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The Unseen Playmate
When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,
His is a picture you never could draw,
But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,
When children are happy and playing alone.
He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!
He loves to be little, he hates to be big,
'T is he that inhabits the caves that you dig;
'T is he when you play with your soldiers of tin
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.
'T is he, when at night you go off to your bed,
Bids you go to sleep and not trouble your head;
For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,
'T is he will take care of your playthings himself!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

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Sonnet 89: Now, That Of Absence
Now that of absence the most irksome night,
With darkest shade doth overcome my day;
Since Stella's eyes, wont to give me my day,
Leaving my hemisphere, leave me in night,
Each day seems long, and longs for long-stay'd night;
The night as tedious, woos th'approach of day;
Tir'd with the dusty toils of busy day,
Languish'd with horrors of the silent night;
Suffering the evils both of the day and night,
While no night is more dark than is my day,
Nor no day hath less quiet than my night:
With such bad misture of my night and day,
That living thus in blackest winter night,
I feel the flames of hottest summer day.
poem by Philip Sidney

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And In The House
And in the house
All is now silent
I rise and grope
In the dark, dark
And lo! Before me
A blue light I
A thin blue light
See I all a-shining
And leading me
And guiding me
Into the dark
In the long night
In to the long night!
Ah! father, father
Where are
You leading me:
The thin blue light
Now veers to here
And then to there
Now up
Now down
It plays:
And in the night
The long lone night
The seconds turn and turn!
And in the house
The lonely house
A soundless sound
Is humming:
The light
The thin blue light
Is leading still leading
And in the night
No time is passing
No hope of dawn
Or day
Is coming:
But dark
And dark:
Yet in the night
This night
Of black
A thrill felt I
And happiness
That never felt!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

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Lonely Children
You go where the wind blows, leading the life you chose
Your destination remains unknown
No one to help you, nobody cares about you
Youre looking for someplace you can call home
Lonely children on the run
Lonely children need someone
Too many questions, you need to answer to them
Your information is so incomplete
You seek directions, you would be lost without them
Dont let them find you lying in the street
Lonely children on the run
Lonely children, lonely, need someone
Someone to talk to
Someone who cares
Someone who listens
Is anyone there?
They may detest you, someday they may arrest you
They stop at nothing to hold you down
You need to be free, but will they ever let you?
They wont be happy till you leave town
Lonely children on the run, run on the run
Lonely children need someone, need someone
Lonely children in the night, cant see the light
Lonely children need a guiding light, dont forget
Lonely children all alone
Lonely children have no home
Lonely children on the run
Hope someday therell be someone
Lonely, lonely children
song performed by by Foreigner

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toy Soldier
I have a toy soldier that sits high up on my shelf,
I'm not allowed to play with him, so he sits there by himself,
He looks so alone, yet so handsome and tall,
As he watches over me... fighting for us all. I wish that I could reach him, just to tell him that I care,
But, I am yet too small to reach him way up there,
Even though he can't hear me, I pray for him each night,
I pray for peace on earth..so he won't have to fight. As I grew taller and wiser, I begin to understand,
That the toy soldier upon my shelf was a picture of a man.
As I reached out for it, I was able to finally see
That the toy soldier that I admired...looked just like me. Our soldiers are not wooden, they have a family somewhere,
They have wives and children and parents who care,
And though they can't hear us, we pray each night
That our toy soldiers...won't have to fight.
poem by Vickie Forrest Wiggs

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The significant sun
The glow grows by day
And the plants make food
Flowers bloom
Lovers meet
Nighttime heat
The sun shines not at night but
But by day
The birds of the air
Chirp a melody
Whistling and fooling
For the curious to see
Why they play
The sun shines not at night
But by day
He hides his glow
Cause he cannot bear to see
The fright of the dark night
And the rays are no more there
Instead cold, musty air
Cold as the heart of the night
Brought about by no light
The sun shines not at night
But by day
Joyful laughter emerges faces
Greeting the bright mourning
Leaving the eerie night behind
The sun brings hope
The night brings fright
And the innocent hearts
Too fragile to bear the sight
Closes its eyes and wishes
For light
The sun shines not at night
But by day
poem by Rachael Hardy

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So Lonely
Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...
song performed by by Police

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Lonely
Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...
song performed by by Police

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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