Related quotes: My summers have withered Like...

Disappear Like a Fool

My summers have withered
Like thirsty flowers,
And I cannot turn back
The unforgiving clock
To a happy hour;
And despite youth
Hitchhiking to destinations gone;
Maturity has not arrived,
And I remain
A stranger in the world.

Young mothers grace
The kind boulevards of my dreams
Strolling the children
I never fathered,
And my hopes have been swallowed
Like a coffin in a grave,
And I have to accept
The mistakes I’ve made
And disappear like a fool
Without posterity
To protect my memories.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Related quotes

Passion Lost or Found

The passion for life I had surrendered
The passion for love I could not remember
I felt like passion was now and fore ever forbidden
I kept myself entangled and hidden
From the world I felt was so unforgiving
Till a stranger walked in at the beginning of December
As I looked at him I said to my self no that's forbidden
Then i asked my self do i dare or shall i surrender
Then my passion for love had been unbroken
Then i knew I was in control of the world that was so unforgiving
With tears in my eyes and my stranger at my side
My hopes and dreams drowned all my sorrows in to the night
Then all of a sudden my hopes and dreams came back to me never again to be forbidden or taken back......

poem by Crystal Beard
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The Lost Mothers...

not all mothers nurture
some have also lost their kind ways
their children neglected
others given away

nature has a way of creating
deviant mothers
those who prefer their men
rather than their children

those that slap innocence
those that sell those buds of beauty
before they ever bloom
those that lead them to perdition

but just the same
all are forgotten and forgiven
mothers too commit mistakes
humans as they are
too like everyone

happy mothers' day just the same
from your faithful and forgiving children

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What a World

What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Were even a young child
Is afraid of going home
A world in which a man
Will take innocence from a child
Now their lives are lived in fear
The memories going wild
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Where you'll only be accepted
If your a f***ing clone
A world so full of s***
A world so full of lies
Can you spot the liars?
Can you see it in their eyes?
A world where self expression
Is pushed and made to fall
Despised and destroyed
To boost the egos of them all
A world where daddys hit
A world where mommys scream
Both killing their children
Killing their hopes killing their dreams
A world that makes you crazy
But does that make me insane?
A world thats without morals
A world thats without shame
A world that seems so dark
A world that seems so cold
A world that kills the young
A world that scars the old
A world that kills our hopes
Shoots them out of the sky
A world that kills us all
And makes us want to die.

poem by Jocelynn Halbauer
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Us Oldies

It is that time of the year,
when my birthday is looming in the air
and I begin to feel quite ancient.
I felt old when my children
presented me with their children
and made me a grandparent,
but when their children
started having children of their own
and stuck a great in front of grandparent
you really begin to feel ancient,
especially when you haven’t retired yet.
When we were young,
oh, those lovely blessed days
when the summers seem to last forever
and the sun always shone.
Life was much more laid back then.
Oh where have they all gone?
Then came the teenage years
opening up all our dreams
of being some kind of superstar.
Yes, I remember them so well,
the music and the romance in the air.
Sometimes I hark back
to those days way back then.

Next, you are an adult
with responsibilities and children of your own.
From there you are on a downward slope
at least that is what some people say.
Well, don’t you believe it;
you’re always as young as you feel.
You can still go out and play
those young kids games.
Personally, I never grew up,
as my friends will testify.
I still have my Peter Pan persona,
Hip Hip Hooray.
I may not drink,
but I can act as crazy as if I do
and that makes life much more fun
being like me a kind old fool.
Kid think they are the only ones
who can have fun,
don’t you believe it,
us oldies can have fun too.

13 June 2008

poem by David Harris
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Some Mothers Son

Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Children

We are children
We are happy
Happy in this world
But not so happier
Than the butterflies
Fly among the flowers.
We are children
We are happy
Happy in this world
But not so happier
Than the Stars
Lighting tiny lamps
In the Sky.
We are children
We are happy
Happier in this world
But not so happier
Than the babies
Asleep in their mothers’ lap.

poem by Dilipbhasker Mathra
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A Song for New Year's Eve

Stay yet, my friends, a moment stay—
Stay till the good old year,
So long companion of our way,
Shakes hands, and leaves us here.
Oh stay, oh stay,
One little hour, and then away.

The year, whose hopes were high and strong,
Has now no hopes to wake;
Yet one hour more of jest and song
For his familiar sake.
Oh stay, oh stay,
One mirthful hour, and then away.

The kindly year, his liberal hands
Have lavished all his store.
And shall we turn from where he stands,
Because he gives no more?
Oh stay, oh stay,
One grateful hour, and then away.

Days brightly came and calmly went,
While yet he was our guest;
How cheerfully the week was spent!
How sweet the seventh day's rest!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One golden hour, and then away.

Dear friends were with us, some who sleep
Beneath the coffin-lid:
What pleasant memories we keep
Of all they said and did!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One tender hour, and then away.

Even while we sing, he smiles his last,
And leaves our sphere behind.
The good old year is with the past;
Oh be the new as kind!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One parting strain, and then away.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
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The Dark Hill

On dark hill, in moonlight
A lone stranger struggles through the night
With hopes dashed and dreams torn asunder
Though dark flowers he slowly wanders
And looks around trying to find
A little space and piece of mind.

But the dark hill is unforgiving
And no escape or hope its giving
The dark flowers turn and scream
To remind him that its just a dream
Lost inside a world of pain
One day hoping to be whole again

The darkness is always in your own mind
Never ending and making you blind
The dark hill takes and leaves nothing behind
Nothing but the emptiness of your own desire.

So on the dark hill the man continues
All alone on his weary journey
To find the peace he so deserves

poem by Monkee Thompson
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His Youth

Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?
You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?
\I\ think \you\ are a fiend, who would be glad
To see me struggle in death's cold embrace.

'But, man you lie! for I am strong-in truth
Stronger than I have been in years; and soon
I shall feel young again as in my youth,
My glorious youth-life's one great priceless boon.

'O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,
When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
Why, there's no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
I'd pause at, could it make me young to-day.

'But I'm not \old\! I grew-just ill, somehow;
Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
It was but sickness. I am better now,
Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.

'And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
To think my strength is coming back at last,
For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
As I lay thinking of my glorious past.

'You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
I'd strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
How dare you say I have outlived my youth?

''In heaven I may regain it?' Oh, be still!
I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill-
O youth, youth, youth! it is my \youth\ I crave.

'There is no heaven! There's nothing but a deep
And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
Perhaps we lie and \think\, as I have here.

'Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
How dare you say I'm dying! \I am not\.
I would curse God if such a thing could be.

'Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath-
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?'
A cry-a fall-the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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What The Poet Wrote

What the Poet Wrote
(Birth over an open grave)

A poet wrote: ”Mothers give birth over an open grave. I thought it was harsh, most
children live long after their mothers die. A young man driving behind me was edgy
wanted to overtake thought I was driving too slow. I kept as far to the right as I could,
he saw his chance, but he was not quick enough, front collision. He wasn’t wearing
seat belt, died on the bonnet of his car. So much blood, dark red and sweet, but his
eyes were open and they saw beyond to a place I have never been. His mother,
a widow, collapsed when the coffin was lowered into a an unfeeling ground, she had
given birth over an open grave. I see a field lit by millions of candles in rows a man
walks among them and ever so often snuffs out light with his thumb and index finger.
But behind him new light appear, sometimes he turn go back and snuffs the new
lights out, mothers who have given birth over an open grave. He is now heading for
the part of the field where the candles have burnt out, only the wick flickers, quickly
he snuffs them out, but misses some, of people who live too long, those who death
has cruelly missed. There is no light on my terrace, a car passes by and plants casts
shadows on the wall, they have no colours. I’m past caring; tomorrow will come
whether I’m there or not, mother will never know if she gave birth to an open grave.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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When We Were Children

There are times when our mind
slips back to a world we left behind.
To the days when we were children
and innocent to the horrors of humankind.

To the times when the summers sun
seem to last forever and a day,
when we were children
in that world so far away.

In those days when were not
corrupted by life as we are today.
Those days when beauty
came from the petals of a flowers head.

Those days when we were children
are gone to our memories
for us to lovingly remember
of a world we left behind.

18 May 2010

poem by David Harris
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What Kind Of Fool Am I

I wonder who shes seeing tonight
Is she really going out with him
Hes not her type
And doing all the things she used to do to me
Well, Id say something to her
But I get so jealous
When I think of her loving somebody else
That I cant think why we ever let go
I must have been crazy
Tell me what kind of fool am i
To just let go,
To just let go like that
What kind of fool am i
To lose you
She was cold sometimes
But she made me feel alive
She was such a spoiled baby
But baby, she could love
And she loved me like nobody ever will again
I thought wed be together
When the world ran down
When the curtain fell and the lights came up
But the gods or whatever make the world go round
Shuffled when they should have cut
Tell me what kind of fool am i
To just let go,
To just let go like that
What kind of fool am i
To lose you
Did it come too easy to the two of us
Did we go too wrong to ever make it right
Were we too busy checking out the left hand
That we didnt see the right
Tell me what kind of fool am i
To just let go,
To just let go like that
What kind of fool am i
Oh baby, please, oh baby, please come back
I meant to say in time
Baby we could work it out
But I never meant to say goodbye
Tell me what kind of fool am i
What kind of fool am i
What kind of fool am i
To lose you

song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Around And Around

Time as I've known it doesn't take much time to pass by me.
Minutes into days, turn into months turn into years, they hurry by me.
Still I love to see the sun go down and the world go around.
Dreams full of promises, hopes for the future I've had many.
Dreams I can't remember now, hopes that I've forgotten, faded memories.
Still I love to see the sun go down and the world go around.
And I love to see the morning as it steals across the sky,
I love to remember and I love to wonder why,
and I hope that I'm around so I can be there when I die, when I'm gone.
I hope that you will think of me in moments when you're happy and you're smiling.
that the thought will comfort you on cold and cloudy days if you are crying.
And that you'll love to see the sun go down and the world go around and around and around.

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lord Protect My Child

For his age, hes wise
Hes got his mothers eyes
Theres gladness in his heart
Hes young and hes wild
My only prayer is, if I cant be there,
Lord, protect my child
As his youth now unfolds
He is centuries old
Just to see him at play makes me smile
No matter what happens to me
No matter what my destiny
Lord, protect my child
While the world is asleep
You can look at it and weep
Few things you find are worthwhile
And though I dont ask for much
No material things to touch
Lord, protect my child
Hes young and on fire
Full of hope and desire
In a world thats been raped, raped and defiled
If I fall along the way
And cant see another day
Lord, protect my child
Therell be a time I hear tell
When all will be well
When God and man will be reconciled
But until men lose their chains
And righteousness reigns
Lord, protect my child

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Late

I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
In the head of this stranger in love
Holding on giving up
To another under faded setting sun
And I wonder where I am...
Could she run away with him?
So happy and so young
And I stare
As I sing in the lost voice of a stranger in love
Out of time letting go
In another world that spins around for fun
And I wonder where I am...
Could he ever ask her why?
So happy and so young
And I stare...but...
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
In the heart of this stranger in love
Giving up holding on
To this other under faded setting sun
And I'm not sure where I am...
Would he really turn away?
So happy and so young
And I stare
As I play out the passion of a stranger in love
Letting go of the time
In this other world that spins around for one
And I'm not sure where I am...
Would she know it was a lie?
So happy and so young
And I stare...but...
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
In the soul of this stranger in love
No control over one
To the other under faded setting sun
And I don't know where I am...
Should he beg her to forgive?
So happy and so young
And I stare...
As I live out the story of a stranger in love
Waking up going on
In the other world that spins around undone
And I don't know where I am...
Should she really say goodbye?
So happy and so young
And I stare...but...
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I can't find myself
I got lost in someone else

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost

song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fool

Act not as per fundamental rule
is an act of a fool,
Like on a summer sunny day
wearing heavy cloth of wool.

Fool, a doer of mistakes
to make unwise annoy or laugh.
The fool can not understand
easily whatever is taught.

It's foolish to laugh on mistakes
and keep apathy.
The wise try to rectify the wrongs
having sympathy.

Can we ingnore contribution of fools
to the world of entertainment,
All the jokers, comedians
replicate their deeds for amusement.

A fool is not a fool always,
fool can too turn wise somewhere.
Kalidas, foolish in his boyhood
became a great poet and writer.

There are people of the school
without irritating they keep cool,
mend or correct mistakes, thinking,
after all it's God who made the fool.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Different World

You cant stop a man from learning
I could write the book of love
Captured moments there
Between me and you
Then I had the thought of leavin
It was a voice inside my head
Telling me I got to have the strength
To see it through
And I know its
Gonna break your heart
And I know its
Gonna break your heart
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I drift off in the night
Im alone but Im not lonely
I found something that I never had
Laying back in the easy chair
Is not the life for me
You think Im your one and only
But you gamble with a restless man
In the end Ive found the way
That we can both be free
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I disappear into the night
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
I see you fade to black and white
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
Im living in a different world
And as I slip away
Im living in a different world
With all my hopes and dreams
I disappear into the night

song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Childhood Memories

Happy childhood memories the best memories of all
And my younger years in Millstreet I will always recall
On evenings in Summer up to the mid Fall
In the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic football
My friends of my youth where might they be today
Like me have the years left them balder and gray
Though some of them in the home Parish did stay
In life one might say we just went our own way
Since those days so many years have come and gone
And time does not wait it just ticks on and on
Many of the friends of my youth I may not see again
Though good memories of them with me does remain
And in fancy I chase the football up and down
With my happy young friends in the Park of the Town.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Young mother!

When the mother is left with young children,
The hands are full and the mind is not dull,
Her eyes are down on the children, who rattle,
Not on the spouse, who suddenly stops to tattle,
Young mother is as busy as a bee, flying around,
The messy house to have the neat hive and honey,
She is not a queen bee to order the servants,
She is a human and needs help and love,
Helpless responsible young mothers are great,
For they have sacrificed their comfort for their brood,
So many professionals gave up their career,
For the love that they have upon their future,
Young mothers of the world, just relax and not to cry,
So much work day in and day out, but you are the Gods,
To provide what your young children need,
To cover them with comfort of loving blanket,
To protect them from all invisible germs and harms,
To plant the seeds of care in their mind to bloom,
Disciplined children are the outcome of your salty sweat,
Continue to sacrifice as our ancestors did.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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