Control Micro Environment Desires
Rachael to control her micro environment desires
Rachael to around her influence her world desires
Rachael what materialism sales pitch sells desires
turn on the TV hear multiplied sales pitch philosophy
watch TV see value defined as sparkling attained property
learn school seated order clone test graded conformity
why do most parents eventually teach dog eat dog compete?
why do most parents teach attained materialism satisfies?
why not teach love compassion empathy walk in God's light?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Parents Teach Attained Materialism
Rachael wants Rachael wants
Rachael wants because she wants
Rachael wants a piece of cake
Rachael is turning five
Rachael wants a birthday cake
Rachael does not like cake
Rachael wants party expectations
Rachael wants observed promised dreams
Rachael wants her attended party
Rachael sought star centre of attention wants
Rachael her friends wrapped gifts songs wants
Rachael is time suddenly seated shy tongue tied
imagination expectation seed our character dreams
realization awaited seldom matches desired schemes
reality ill matches misconceptions time split seams
to want peer mainstream desires experience teaches
does not fit all personality individual developing tastes
time sows unique thoughts realizations in vision eyes
Rachael to control her micro environment desires
Rachael to around her influence her world desires
Rachael what materialism sales pitch sells desires
turn on the TV hear multiplied sales pitch philosophy
watch TV see value defined as sparkling attained property
learn school seated order clone test graded conformity
why do most parents eventually teach dog eat dog compete?
why do most parents teach attained materialism satisfies?
why not teach love compassion empathy walk in God's light?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Piece Of Cake
Rachael wants Rachael wants
Rachael wants because she wants
Rachael wants a piece of cake
Rachael is turning five
Rachael wants a birthday cake
Rachael does not like cake
Rachael wants party expectations
Rachael wants observed promised dreams
Rachael wants her attended party
Rachael sought star centre of attention wants
Rachael her friends wrapped gifts songs wants
Rachael is time suddenly seated shy tongue tied
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rachael Asks Good Questions
Rachael is four...
Rachael asks good questions...
What is God?
Why do we have to pray to God?
Is there any human being on earth
who does not ask these questions
eventually at some time during their life?
Some individuals
reflecting upon world events
reflecting upon world history
will be forced to ask
these questions
multiple times
throughout their lives...
And the answers are...
there are as many answers
as there are differing cultures
ethnicities religions biases...
Rachael is going to
a birthday party today
but Rachael is afraid of clowns...
Rachael asked her mother
did you ring your friend
to ask what the clown
will be wearing at the party?
Rachael said I am not afraid of the clown
any more I prayed to God...
an example of remarkable faith in a child...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Who Will Teach The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
So I Ask You...What Of The Children?
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the corner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
WHO WILL TEACH THE CHILDREN? (rated 24)
Who will teach our children?
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Don't Forget Them...
Who will teach our children? I speak not
of the lessons of school, but those of
life, living and those of God.
Who will teach our children, that in
war no one wins and all humanity loses
a part of who we are.
Who will teach our children, that God,
morality, honesty, love and respect are
the coner stones of the civilized world.
Without them, mankind will crumble and
disappeared forever more.
Who will teach our children of compassion
for their fellow man and respect for anothers
God, or color or creed?
Who will teach our children, all these things
and more?
The answer is whispered in your love...beating
in your heart....and echoed in your soul.
Who will teach our children? ...It must be you.
Button
She emits such a magnetic hold upon my soul
That I may not contemplate existence whole
Without being bound in time and space
To the girl that makes my heartbeat race.
Rachael, sweet Rachael dearest, grace art thou
In faith my heart endows its love upon your form.
You of the heart of pastel pink upon your chest,
You of the smile that could settle rage to rest.
You who art bestowed with the bosom of a mother goddess,
You, you are the girl who blows me kiss’s upon the breeze
Within the world of dreamtime wandering. It is you I seek,
You who are the girl to make my knees grow weak.
Rachael, sweetest rose, dearest, grace art thou
In faith my heart endows its lust upon your flesh,
From you of the finest form divine does radiance shine
Through an eternal window from the deepest abyss.
Rachael, sweetest rose, one kiss, one moment of bliss
It is for this I ask before the present past becomes a
Future lost surreal, Dearest, know the way I feel.
poem by David Lacey
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Desires II
The desires of your heart!
The desires of my heart!
To write,
To preach,
To teach,
The message;
And like the sweet aroma of life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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She Is Not In Her Mood
surprise surprise
Rachael is sulking
yes she is sulking...
her mother
does not
know why?
she does not
want to
take a photo
her mother
does not
know why?
you need to be still
and patient with her
she is not in her mood
Rachael lives
with her rules
not yours...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Teach
softly we walk this earth
when we die, we become the dirt.
so while we live, we must learn to share.
and show others that we care.
we must live our lives and take control.
before we begin to lose our soul.
when we go to church to pray
we must ask the LORD for another day.
to try to get our lives on track
and on evil 'turn our back'
the children are our future
'is this all we have to give '?
if we don't teach them
how are they going to live?
teach! as the apostles taught all others
teach! as if there was no others
teach! so that our children could see
that there is a future beyond you and me.
poem by Louis Rams
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Rachael Moves Mountains
The faith of a child
can be an awe inspiring
absolutely amazing thing.
Things said
immediately exclaimed
from mouths of babes.
Rachael was jumping
on edge of a king size bed
using it as a trampoline.
A bedroom habit dangerous
perchance to slip fall hard
onto unforgiving ceramic tiles.
Her mother clearly irritated
by this repetitive habit dangerous
an angry warning shouted
Rachael stop jumping
on the edge of the bed.
You can fall and your neck break.
Then you will be dead.
Rachael without pause replied
"If I die Daddy will
give me blood
and I will be
alive again."
If I could I would
restore hurt all humans
their pain heal.
Which with wonder fills
my mere mind mortal.
Why does God not do this?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Just Replace With A Piano
Rachael for weeks
many months wanted
her own baby sister.
She would
ask every day almost
when would
she have a baby sister.
Then late last weekend
to a new mall we went
explored floors twister.
There we found
a display promotional
new pianos for sale.
Rachael looked
listened sat played
upon piano keys.
Time stopped keys
to sound rhythm excited
merging mind ruptured.
Music appreciation passions
were born hand to mind
excited a four year old soul.
Ability to create notes
instant choice inspirational
rang within mind to soul.
Next day at breakfast Rachael said
"if this family doesn't want
a baby just replace with a piano."
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Love Respects
Love respects everyone always,
Love respects everyone's way of life,
Everyone's way of living needs respect,
Love respects everyone always :)
Love respects everyone's opinions,
Love helps us understand everyone's choices,
Respecting everyone's choices encourages understanding,
Love respects everyone's opinions :)
Love respects our needs and desires,
Love knows our needs include respect,
Our desires need respect to be understood,
Love respects our needs and desires :)
Love respects family always,
Love understands a families' influence,
Our parents' decisions need respect,
Love respects family always :)
poem by Paul Jensen Jr
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As Parents To Our Parents
They never teach you this at school;
they'll try to teach you reading, writing, 'rithmetic
in their own instructed ways;
but now, if anyone suggested it, there'd be howls
about the impertinence, the interference,
the rights, the dangers of this and that -
but all the same, they never teach you:
how to get on with your parents.
Oh there are books and books and books
telling your parents how to look after you, but hey!
there are two parties here! Mom and Dad
can ask their own parents (sometimes - because they
were in the same situation as you are now and so,
reckon they can do a better job...) but
who can you, ask?
Philip Larkin told us memorably that
'they f*** you up, your Mum and Dad',
which may not be the case for all of us;
Hindus have their own stern answer to this question:
you chose them, in effect, as the result
of your behaviour in your previous life...so there,
work with that, kiddo, could be
the making of you...stop blaming it all on them!
So there you are, in this heated cauldron of love and hate, or
like sharp stones shaken in this bag called family
until the rough edges wear (each other) away and
those smooth round pebbles roll out to the world...
but perhaps a little help wouldn't hurt?
I was exactly four and a half when I told the truth about something,
since I didn't know any other way; and as my parents' voices
rose in argument about 'knowing what was best for me',
(I remember the moment now, so clear) I turned my back
on this so painful sound, faced the 'wireless' on the chest of drawers,
and decided there and then
that grown-ups made such a fuss when you told the truth
that it would be better not to - at least, until
they grew up a bit... and there, went half a lifetime
of prevarication, dodging the question, fantasy: never tell the truth
until you're sure they really, really want to hear it...
Then when I was eleven or thereabouts
(and again, I remember exactly where I was standing
at the time - the bottom of the stairs)
the solemn thought 'entered my head':
that in some way I knew but couldn't quite explain,
I was in the position, had some duty,
to take care, in some thoughtful way, of the minds of those
my parents...
But they didn't teach that at my school.
love, I knew all about; but
parents? Aren't they strange? They try so hard, too...
and no, I don 't need 'counselling', thanks -
I'd rather keep it in the family. All I'm asking
is, a few lessons, maybe? I'd even do
the homework.
XXX love you both XXX
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We as parents to our parents
They never teach you this at school;
they'll try to teach you reading, writing, 'rithmetic
in their own instructed ways;
but now, if anyone suggested it, there'd be howls
about the impertinence, the interference,
the rights, the dangers of this and that -
but all the same, they never teach you:
how to get on with your parents.
Oh there are books and books and books
telling your parents how to look after you, but hey!
there are two parties here! Mom and Dad
can ask their own parents (sometimes - because they
were in the same situation as you are now and so,
reckon they can do a better job...) but
who can you, ask?
Philip Larkin told us memorably that
'they f*** you up, your Mum and Dad',
which may not be the case for all of us;
Hindus have their own stern answer to this question:
you chose them, in effect, as the result
of your behaviour in your previous life...so there,
work with that, kiddo, could be
the making of you...stop blaming it all on them!
So there you are, in this heated cauldron of love and hate, or
like sharp stones shaken in this bag called family
until the rough edges wear (each other) away and
those smooth round pebbles roll out to the world...
but perhaps a little help wouldn't hurt?
I was exactly four and a half when I told the truth about something,
since I didn't know any other way; and as my parents' voices
rose in argument about 'knowing what was best for me',
(I remember the moment now, so clear) I turned my back
on this so painful sound, faced the 'wireless' on the chest of drawers,
and decided there and then
that grown-ups made such a fuss when you told the truth
that it would be better not to - at least, until
they grew up a bit... and there, went half a lifetime
of prevarication, dodging the question, fantasy: never tell the truth
until you're sure they really, really want to hear it...
Then when I was eleven or thereabouts
(and again, I remember exactly where I was standing
at the time - the bottom of the stairs)
the solemn thought 'entered my head':
that in some way I knew but couldn't quite explain,
I was in the position, had some duty,
to take care, in some thoughtful way, of the minds of those
my parents...
But they didn't teach that at my school.
love, I knew all about; but
parents? Aren't they strange? They try so hard, too...
and no, I don 't need 'counselling', thanks -
I'd rather keep it in the family. All I'm asking
is, a few lessons, maybe? I'd even do
the homework.
XXX love you both XXX
[revisited]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Classroom
you walk on by the classroom
day to day
but never think about
what’s in it
I know, I didn’t
not because you don’t care
cause it never entered your mined
you might wonder when you see the students
you might know that
they have to go to a “special”
classroom of there own
you might even know what’s
in the classroom
you don’t know what they
do in the classroom
the academics
the physical therapy
the carts and crafts
the culinary arts
most of all the life skills
sounds a lot like most of you classes
right
cause it is
so why not just stop on by
say hello to
the staff
the students
talk to one of the students for a while
they will teach you something
you’ll never learn anywhere else
the classroom will always be there
with students and staff
that will talk to you
watch them watch the students
you’ll learn a lot about life
let the classroom teach you something
let you teach the classroom,
that being “normal” is not
so different
teach that
please teach that
to the
classroom
for it will always be
just
a classroom with
students
staff
and a few students
who stopped on by
and
said hello
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Teach Me How to Eat
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
More discipline I may be needing.
Teach me how to eat.
More seriousness I may yet miss.
Teach me how to eat.
No medications do I take,
To keep a pace that irritates.
No longer young with dumb ideals.
Teach me how to eat.
I wish a peace that keeps me feeding.
So teach me how to eat.
I see in you more than in some.
The ones who can not overcome.
I see some stumble as others run.
But you,
Know how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Success you've reached and still you seek.
Teach me how to eat...
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice I stay hungry,
Teach me how to eat.
If you notice no baloney,
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
Teach me how to eat.
I'm hungry.
Teach me how to eat.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The lesson left untaught
School teaches us that 2+2=4
School teaches us that an essay has an intro, body, and conclusion
School teaches us that history is his story
We learn alot in school but not enough
School doesnt teach us how to deal when a love one dies
School doesnt teach us how many lies are truth
Or how many truths are lies
School doesnt teach us what to do when your heart has been broken into so many pieces, you find it difficult to trust anyone
To open up to anyone
......to love anyone
No
Because these things cant be taught
They can only be experienced through the course of life
poem by Dashon Coleman
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