Puberty.
When my grandma told me not to go out of the house,
after the oil lamp was lit at six in the evening,
I went out to see the spirits of the wolves on the loose,
but heard the howling far away while she praying.
Grandma thought I was in the study, doing my work,
I was searching for the devils that scared my grandma.
When I returned to tell her that I found nothing,
She blessed me what an obedient girl, always obeying.
When at ten, I was told that there was a black devil,
comfortably renting a Neem tree beside our dwelling,
after everyone was asleep, I went to the tree at twelve,
to find nothing and I was confused and then not believe,
my elders any more. Told them many times,
I have found no spirits and devils,
in the trees, in the farms and the jungle,
They were too tired to teach me what they were taught,
when they had given up the hope on me,
I planted the seeds of awareness in them.
When my elders had the nap after the heavy meal,
we, the children, sneaked out of the house,
to play marbles, hide and seek kites and
snake and ladder. After play we used,
to go to the Garden our king built for his children,
where we found muddy water, fragrant trees and
the Lecherous males who tried to touch our budding breasts.
Then one day our wings were cut off,
by pouring the turmeric water on our heads,
tied the long saree on the slender body,
put the perfect jasmine on our hair,
decorated as the prettiest doll that they could,
We had lost our freedom and,
our elders are awake.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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SONNET: But things suit me?
There is a smile on the lips of children;
There is a look of innocence, always;
They seem to forget and to forgive when,
Adults display a wretched, gloomy face!
Oh, how they play about and love their play!
Oh, how they long for love and words of praise!
Oh, how they dream of presents from a fay!
And how they fall asleep or cry always!
But, does this world not ill-treat children?
Do children have their freedom, entitled?
Are elders kind, giving them tender touch?
Many a time, their hearts seem anguish-filled!
How can this world deny children their needs?
What kind of trees develop from ill-formed seeds?
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: on children
There is a smile on the lips of children;
There is a look of innocence, always;
They seem to forget and to forgive when,
Adults display a wretched, gloomy face!
Oh, how they play about and love their play!
Oh, how they long for love and words of praise!
Oh, how they dream of presents from a fay!
And how they fall asleep or cry always!
But, does this world not ill-treat children?
Do children have their freedom, entitled?
Are elders kind, giving them tender touch?
Many a time, their hearts seem anguish-filled!
How can this world deny children their needs?
What kind of trees develop from ill-formed seeds?
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting
When darkness peeps gradually
The orphan boy met a little red riding hood.
She goes to her grandma's house
When she asked where he's going
He said; 'Nowhere to go.'
'First I go there and get permission from my grandma,
If she agrees to provide you lodging tonight,
I'll be hurry to you and please wait here.' She said.
But she never returned.
It happened a very long time ago
And she must be a grandma now.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma
Knots and tangles in my hair,
grandma sitting on her chair,
me in front on a stool so low,
brushes and combs all in a row.
Grandma would wash it every day,
Saying 'We do this first, then you play.'
Waiting for the feel of every pull,
this became our ritual.
I anticipated every tug.
When we finished we would hug.
But before I'd leave she'd make a bow,
all different colors she'd use to show
that my hair was something she loved to see.
It was long and shiny black, like ebony.
I treasure her looks and the moments spent,
the combs, the brushes and her looks of content.
My grandma made me feel like a queen,
like the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.
Now as my hair is turning gray
I remember the words she used to say,
'Sit down dolly and I'll comb your hair.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thankless Scions
Grandma was in isolation
She was in an isle of distress
The children whom she fed
With the blood turned milk
In her breasts
Have all flown and vanished
And she left abandoned
With the linings all over
In mind and skin
Heralding the arrival
Of the frail old December
Of the life, the end of the span!
The marvelous culture
Of a house- hold adorned
With grandma and grandpa
With children and grand children
Went into oblivion!
The grandma and grandpa
Is a hindrance to their children
Is a bad omen to scions
And an inconvenience
To the young and dynamic!
Grandma and grandpa
Are ignored and caged
As of a dog or parrot
And fed like a slave
Tied to a pole in chains!
The thankless sons and daughters
Never care the sufferings
And sacrifices of Ma and Papa
And they want to be alone
As being youthful in spirit
And are eager to enjoy
The spring of life
Where they hate the face of autumn!
Grandma, Grandpa, Ma and Papa
Are omen of autumn
That they never wish to sight!
The young whose blood
Rushes with the fuel of Ma's milk
Forget that the green leaves
Will turn yellow
And wither away
And an autumn is is hibernation
To embrace them tomorrow!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish Pound and Violin
My grandpa stay in the house
Near the river
Where its water flow end in the South Ocean
His garden hedged with Bamboo trees
In front of the garden planted three tuft trees
The children like to climb the tuft tree
Pick up the fruits and eat on the tree
Glad and laughing
My grandpa was silent and said nothing
He just smile subtly, and gaze at far away
There is a fish pond in the backyard,
In its edge planted pineapple and banana trees
My grandma always give brand and papaya leaf to the pound
Giving food for the fish like Gurame, Sepat dan Nila,
While my grandpa make a biola, gitar and bass
In the litlle studio, near the kitchen
I passionatedly gaze the fish jump around
And glad
While they don’t know their destiny
Decided by mothers in the cities
On the frying pan, roastibng, caserate,
With imagine to ecpanced their plan on the rice filed
Near the road forgeted how farmer produce,
Fish, rice and vegetable,
And actually
Their Self conscience.
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Broken Girl
The light is fading faster
as her life begins
to go
the darkness comes
as her life slowly
slips away
her demons have risen
they've taken control
she's not the girl
she used to be
The girl with the
smile, the
girl with the
laugh
That girl is gone
she has died off
she left this day
the day of an honest
mistake
a mistake she will
have to die for
for her grandma will
soon know
they don't see it
for they don't know
the wrath of her grandma
they think the grandma's
sweet
they say she's not that way
She says her grandma will
take
everything she holds dear
they say they don't believe it
they say that its not true
little do they know
her grandma is of a nature
where she will take all
from the girl
all because of one
mistake
the girl will loose it all
the girl you knew will
be long gone
for she must say good-bye
all to soon you will
meat the girl she
really is
for all to soon her masks
shall drop
all to soon she will
reveal all
the masks shall drop
and many will see
just how broken that girl
really is
to soon they will see
that girl is
me
(written 9/29/10)
Ruwatan of My Mother
My grandma had planned ‘ruwatan’ a long time ago
In front of her house
They build a stage for playing a pupit shadow play
From day to night
Where neighbour, friend, and visitor from random ranking came
I run anywhere, nobody care about me
Where all people busy with their duties
Only one focusing to prepare meal for prayed together
To the God for saving my mother from the angry of Batara Kala
Ruwatan ceremony
In the stage in front of my grandma house
Dalang, play the pupit shadow
Where the Batara Kala still angry
To all people just play play along the time
They do not work hard and pray together to the God
To avoid the God Angry
My grandma present the pupit shador for along the day to night
With the religious meal from various fruits, animal
Dalang lead pray together
While he play the pupit shadows
As long as harmony with the ruwatan story
Ovoid the God (Batara Kala) not to become angry
To punish my mother and her big family
Her only my grandma doughter
From her complicated sins
But I saw at the end of my mother life
She laid in the hospital bedroom for a month
With mny pipe to help her respiration
And for eat her foods
But my mother know
She does’t like to die there
At the end of her time, batara Kala pick up her soul
In her friends house
In Yogyakarta
When member of the family
She sound-asleep forever
Alone to the promise of land
Her only message to the youngest son
To choice his wife from a good parents
To be carefull be a good heart
August 05 - 2005
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Midst Of War
in the midst of war with bodies lying on the ground
walks a band of children-their families can't be found
searching through the rubble of homes that used to be
looking for food and clothes just to survive
because of their elders who choose to live a lie.
as i look through their eyes-all i can see
is death and destruction staring at me.
these children are not to blame for what is all around
but! if its not stopped they'll be laying on the ground.
they search thru this destruction in hopes that
they'll find-others to join them.
as they walk down the streets-the elders stop their fighting
to let them pass.
but this is just temporary- they know it will not last.
other children see them marching down the streets
they dropp what they are doing to join this band
knowing in their hearts it's time to take a stand.
this band is getting larger and the children start to shout..
what is this war? whats it all about?
can't you see the lives that have been taken?
because of this war the ground is still shaking.
the elders stop their fighting as the children all sit down.
they scream'we are not moving until this fight is through.
if this is what you want we will die with you.
you think only of yourselves and not what we're going through.
and when we die-what are you going to do.
there will be no one to carry on your name
there will be no heritage to be found
it will be burned to the ground.
look at our faces and you know what you will see
death and destruction surrounding me.
so we ask you from our hearts-it's time to change.
it is not something which is hard to do
it's all up to every one of you.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Same As Here
I got home from school one day
with a dark spot on my eye
Masiter Kumedzro always say:
fighting was against the rules
so when Grandma got home I told her a story
just like I'd rehearsed some hours before
and there I stood on my trembling knees
waiting for the worst
interestingly, she did not say a word
when she got into the kitchen she called
she said son 'Let me tell you a secret
about a Grandma's love”
a secret she said was just between us
she said, “Grandma’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
when I became a father
there was no doubt my son was a stubborn boy
he was not like me but as just like my father's son
one day when I thought my patience
had been tested to the end too long
I took my Grandma's secret
and I passed it on to him
he hugged me and cried on my shoulders
last night I dreamed I'd died
and stood outside those pearly gates of Salem
suddenly, I realized, there must be some mistake
supposing St. Peter knows half the things I've done
he would never open the gate to let me in
there a deep voice spoke from the other side of the dome
and I heard those words again
it said, “Son Grandpa’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
poem by Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood everyday
This missing increases day by day
I miss those days of happiness
which were full of joy and naughtiness
I miss my grandpa's magnificent love
I miss my grandma's food serve
I miss my village and my darling home
Now I am sad and alone
I was used to go garden daily evening
where I see the day changing
I play their with my friends
who were perfect in that and were legends
I miss stealing of mango from trees
I miss those mountainy friendly trees
I miss play of hide and seek
we hide on guava's great peak
I miss my fields and ponds
I miss that sweet smell of my lands
I miss the scolds of elders
I miss my village builders
I miss my grandpa's old shoulders
I miss my village's brave soldiers
I miss my cow's sweet milk
I miss my cranky and playful tricks
No one can return my childhood
And that hunt for fruits in woods
I have left my childhood very far
But I need life like that with no bar
I am hungry for that love of village
my hunger becomes more with age
In this world of stress and worries
I want back my childhood glories
Life is such a name
That plays with everyone, a different game
But in every game there is some hopeful ray
I miss my childhood everyday.
(27 march 2010, Lucknow)
poem by Shashank Dwivedi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Grandma
Dear Grandma, I remember
When you were there for me
Dear Grandma, I remember
Your smile was a joy to see
Dear Grandma, I remember
The wonderful dinners I had
I remember how you cared
You dried my tears when I was sad
Dear Grandma, I remember
All the wonderful things you gave
You would let us play around
You would always be there to wave
Dear Grandma, I remember
All your loving care
Helping when I was sick
You were always there
Dear Grandma, I remember
That you are there for me yet
Always a comfort to me
Dear Grandma, I wont forget
The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part IV)
Boaz Marries Ruth:
As Boaz sat down near the gate,
There came the kinsman whom he sought;
He sat along with elders ten!
Boaz told them of Naomi
Who’d come away from Moab-land
After the death of her husband.
She has a plot of land to sell;
The kinsman had first right to buy,
And if he did, he should redeem
Ruth, widowed daughter-in-law too.
The kinsman told that he could not
And gave up right to redeem Ruth;
The man removed his shoe as sign,
‘Let Boaz buy the plot himself’
This was the practice in Israel! ’
So, Boaz told the elders there:
He had purchased Elimelech’s
And Naomi’s inheritance,
And Ruth, the wife of dead Mahlon.
Would be his new wife from then on.
This was to save the dead one’s kin,
From being cut off from brethren,
And all were witnesses that day,
Who sat to hear the news by gate!
The elders glorified the Lord,
And blessed the new wife of Boaz,
To build her house in Bethlehem,
And bear forth children: be famous
Like Rachel, Leah and too Tamar.
So, Ruth became Boaz’s wife,
And bore a son through grace of God
The women blessed and praised the Lord
Whose kindness saved Naomi’s clan.
Obed was son of Boaz, Ruth
And Naomi became its nurse!
Obed begot Jesse, father of
David, the King: Glory to God!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2007
poem by John Celes
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To Willie and Henrietta
If two may read aright
These rhymes of old delight
And house and garden play,
You too, my cousins, and you only, may.
You in a garden green
With me were king and queen,
Were hunter, soldier, tar,
And all the thousand things that children are.
Now in the elders' seat
We rest with quiet feet,
And from the window-bay
We watch the children, our successors, play.
"Time was," the golden head
Irrevocably said;
But time which one can bind,
While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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They Reminsce Over You
So I date way back to grandma taking care of little sister and I When mom had to make a living. Grandma, the head of our family, signed us up for each and every event in church. Arrogant when I say I am grandma's favorite; no one can tell me different. I was her only pocketbook. She brought me to Sunday school, but I refused to leave her side, so I lingered near my grandma while she taught class. I reminsce on the times when I spoke without thinking; spilling my guts during step dad's cheating. Before leaving he crushed my dreams in architecture. I had built a dual wing plane with my k'nex right before Christmas. He scrapped it, and I didn't know how to start over. Sad times when playing basketball seeing the same fool showing me the finger roll. Left in single parenthood, the Y became my new house. Counselors mentor me and changed me from a boy to a man even when my biological couldn't be bothered. It was sort of hard to grow up due to having childhood stolen from under me, but I had to.
poem by Alex Kenneh
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Grandmas Theme
Go grandma!!! go, go, go grandma!!!!!!!you know what they say. go, go, go
Grandma youll make it someday. shalalalala grandma youre doing fine. you and
Your dreams are ahead of your time!!! go go go go!!!!!
Go, go grandma ranger......
In space!!!!!!
What about grandpa? ? ? ? ?
Chorus:
Go granny, go granny, go go go granny!!!
Yeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Yeah thats right
I love u grandmama
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Song
You told me you would be here by my side
Warming my heart on this cold winter's night
Here I sit waiting beside the tree all by myself
You told me you would bring presents and treats(KROQ CD original)
You told me you would move heaven and earth(promo CD remix)
Cheering my spirits with homemade sweet meats(KROQ CD original)
Cheering my spirits with laughter and mirth(promo CD remix)
Here I sit waiting beside the tree all by myself
Oh, could you ever know how much I care?
Could you ever know that out somewhere
there's a boy who really hurts?
Since I've found you
I've found a girl
I've found a thorn
I've found a queen
Now I am warm
_____________________________________
Christmas Celebration [top]
Christmas celebration
And all around the nation
Won't you stay with me tonight cause
I'm running out of fight
and the pagentry is such a bore
Carolers are singing
registers Ka-chinging
And the presents are in place
but I'd rather eat some mace
'cause the eggnog always makes me sick
You know how the story goes
you've seen it all before
That man is so obese that he can't get out the door
Christmas to perfection
I'm begging for some action
and the ringing in my ears
is the sound of Christmas cheer
and they've knocked me screaming overboard
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creatures In My Home
Creatures in my home:
There’s a boogie man under my bed,
Skeletons and ghosts in the attic,
Trolls in the basement,
Pixies and fairy’s in the garden,
Tree nymphs in the trees,
And water nymphs and mermaids in the stream,
During the day they sleep but during the night they come out and play,
So when my teacher asks why I fall asleep in class I can say,
I was swapping stories with the boogie man under my bed,
Playing cards with the skeletons and ghosts in the attic,
He lost his head when I won but that’s another story,
Swapping stories with the trolls in the basement,
Danced with the fairy’s and pixies in the garden,
Played hid and go seek with the tree nymphs at the trees,
And went swimming with the water nymphs and mermaids at the stream,
After that I get a detention but I can still say I told the truth.
poem by Kevin MacDonald
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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