Box
Box
by Ted L Glines
working working
no time to play
postpone your dreams
for another day
eternity waits
an endless stage
for your childish glee
or dreams of rage
children know
magickal places
dragons and elves
grins on their faces
but growing up
is serious stuff
put your childhood away
learn how to bluff
living by logic
from man-made books
kills your soul
under pious looks
an empty life
is something built
one day at a time
from fears and guilt
growing misuses
drown childhood gladness
replaced with abuses
of adult sadness
rushing your life
schedules and clocks
all of it ends
in a fancy box
going to heaven
or that place of screams
such an awful waste
for the soul with no dreams
poem by Ted L Glines
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Related quotes
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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Children Of The Heart
Have you ever left?
Your childhood alone
Have you ever let?
Your childhood dreams go
I've never really known
The joys a child should know
I've never really seen
What it's like to just being a child
But in each of us there lies
A child breaking to be free
To learn life's mysteries
In child like dream
To run with friends and family
Free just like a breeze
To play in the fields
Of a childhood memory's
What is it really like?
To be a warrior of old
What is it really like?
To be innocent in ones life
What is it really like?
To be a hero in a child's dream
I sigh and often dream
What it would be like to be free
Free of all your burdens
In a child's innocent world
Of dreams
Can you explain to me?
What the mystery a child hold's
Why do we crave
Our childhood of old
I smile and think often
Deep inside my soul
There will always be a child
Bursting forth to be free
Just wanting to let go
There will always be a child
Wanting all their dreams
To fly into a world of fantasy's
And just being free
Smiling softly to myself
I close my eyes and dream
Of when I was a little girl
Reliving all my dreams
poem by Kaila George
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Dreams, Dreams, Dreams
Most children want to copy adults fast;
They try to dress and talk and walk like one;
They want to do the things what adults do;
But children can’t be adults before time!
Adults dream of their childhood years at times;
They cannot move or speak or walk child-like;
They cannot be innocent like children;
They can’t become children again in life.
The elderly have dreams of their own too;
Oh, how they wish they were younger in age!
They recollect the things they did when young;
Their frames and minds are weaker than they think!
All human beings live in dreams galore;
Most dreams cannot become reality;
Our dreams must be something we can well do;
Too much of dreams don’t help to dash ahead.
Each stage of life can be lived only once;
One cannot go back or ahead in time;
Be happy with whatever you’ve achieved;
Life is so wonderful they way it is!
Just keep your mind and heart as per your age;
Be aware of the limits, risks, you take;
Life shouldn’t be lost even through accidents;
Life is the greatest gift of God to you!
Thank God for whatever you are in life;
Thank Him for gift of human life and soul;
Thank Him for all the things, He’d done for you;
Thank Him for all His love and kindness shown!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-12-2008
poem by John Celes
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Dreams And Ghosts
the dreams
of the heart
the dreams
of the mind
change and pass
with time
throughout the span
of a lifetime
many dreams
will come and go
but some dream
like childhood
quality must be
kept and preserved
from childhood
for this is perpetual
renewal of creativity
this deep solace
sustains aspiring soul
with hope filled
love renewing life
with new dreams
to inspire to grasp
to share eternally
the hard hearted
are played out
lost broken upon
twisted memories
dreams long dead
life expired withered
dead to deep feeling
which sustains life
the dead of heart
live only in shadows
of yesterday’s hope
ghost haunting
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ghosts of Dreams
We are all of us dreamers of dreams,
On visions our childhood is fed;
And the heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead.
From childhood to youth's but a span,
And the years of our life are soon sped;
But the youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead.
'Tis a cup of wormwood and gall,
When the doom of a great man is said;
And the best of a man is under a pall
When the best of his dreams is dead.
He may live on by compact and plan
When the fine bloom of living is shed,
But God pity the little that's left of a man
When most of his dreams are dead.
Let him show a brave face if he can;
Let him woo fame and fortune instead;
Yet there's not much to do, but to bury a man
When the last of his dreams is dead.
poem by William Herbert Carruth
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When My Childhood Dies
You see it in the my eyes,
The walls are built up on me.
Delightness will replaced my guiltiness,
When my childhood dies.
Afraid to show surprising face because of my shame of be young and dumb.
It's best to hold your tongue,
When my childhood dies.
Uniqueness deemed unwisely on
One’s life must it fit in.
And wear a different skin,
When my childhood dies.
Behind adult disguise,
A too tight gown.
All naturalness shut down,
When my childhood dies.
You see it in the eyes,
At nine or eight.
Before, if that's their fate,
When my childhood dies soon.
poem by Evevona Plummer
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My dreams...
My dreams
Oh my brat living dreams, why behave to me?
Like really you are half dead,
And you nervously move around as alarmed,
every time I try to touch,
Do you know?
I feel myself like an empty space in your midst, so
Why do you look at me,
like I'm a stranger from out of space?
Even if you do not want me,
please do not charm to anyone,
Please no more
Because I have suffered enough, more than enough
Whenever your curious shadows tried to follow me…
You wet dreams, distorted, made so by nothing whatsoever…
Do not call me guilty, only because I forgot to play your melody …
You naughty dreams, in this time of monstrous
I will not leave you now on, to look so crooked at me
Dreams, dreams, dreams,
I do not know why I continue talking with you
As long as you are the dreams of dream,
You never matured …
Do you! ? ....
poem by Vasil Marku
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My Fore-Elders
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.
poem by William Barnes
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Childhood Memories Sung to the Tune of Shawnee West Franklin Bison Blues
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
Mine is sere
Throughout the year
Nothing grows here
Some people have a childhood rainbow
A sea of colors all aglow
Some people have a childhood rainbow
Red to violet in a row
Mine is gray
Bow of clay
Without a ray
Some people have a childhood temple
Covered with a million treasured dreams
Some people have a childhood temple
A sunny Wat of Gods and kings
Mine is plain
Squats in the rain
Functional 'n sane
Where childhood memories abound
Life flows vividly around
Where childhood memories have fled
Hearts lie dead
Childhood Dreams
Said the little Boy to the little Girl
“When I grow up, I’ll be King of the world,
A cowboy, a fireman, the singer in a band,
A scientist or the greatest ball player in the land.”
He never said to his childhood friend
“I’ll be a junkie in the end-
I’ll watch as the dope steals my job and my wife
My self-respect, my children, and eventually, my life.”
That little Boy had plans and dreams
That weren’t about falling apart at the seams.
Said the little Girl to the little Boy
“When I grow up I’ll bring such joy,
I’ll write a song or maybe a book,
I’ll be a model, a mother, a teacher, a cook.”
She never thought in a million years
“I’ll end up a crackhead who has cried all her tears
Whose only wish is another hit,
Who’s lost her soul and herself to it.”
That little girl had dreams in her head-
She never thought she’d be walking dead.
The Moral of this story sad but true
Is that these things could happen to you
Or me, or anyone, it seems, who forgets
Their smaller self and their childhood dreams,
The hungry ghosts with their tortured eyes
Got caught up in their webs of lies.
They lost their dreams, abandoned hope,
And sold their souls to the gods of dope.
But dreams of childhood can always renew-
And mend the hurts life puts us through;
Let Go, Let God(ess) take your pain,
And Change and make you Whole again.
Let Great Spirit open up your eyes
And tell you truths, not twisted lies.
Let Peace Begin inside of you-
The Peace of God which will make you new.
Let Mother guide you as you go,
And learn from watching the river flow.
If you will do these simple things
You’ll remember your Childhood Dreams.
poem by Vicki Ellis
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A Teddy Bear Is Forever
There’s a spot in the garden of childhood,
That children and adults can share;
A place in the heart and memory,
For one’s very own stuffed teddy bear.
Now, a little girl’s dolls will get broken,
And a little boy’s kites fly away,
But a soft, cuddly teddy’s forever,
When we’ve gotten too grownup to play.
And a young lady’s dreams may be dampened,
And a man sees his plans go astray,
But a teddy bear kept from our childhood,
Through life’s troubles will faithfully stay.
For whether it’s kept in a bookcase,
Or lying on top of one’s bed,
A teddy bear waits for it’s owner,
With eyes wide awake in it’s head.
And if all the world’s children were given,
The gift of a soft teddy bear,
We should see their glad faces,
Reflecting love and goodwill everywhere.
© S.E.S
poem by Sara Stowell
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Youth Dream Purchase Price Paid
youth dreams full of testosterone
impatience desires action completion
now now now youth is life trying
youth is working for other people
youth is working with other people
youth is learning about other people
in changing challenging life context
enjoy it or frustrated with it a lot
but at the same time youth screaming
to break out and be able to do own thing
the majority of the work force
probably feels this ghost echo
definitely crisis mix sometimes
few people get to do exactly
what they want to do
all or even most of the time
employment is necessity
unless rich financially
care free freedom independent
the less capital qualifications
the more compromise
due to lack of opportunities
working for others
is a good chance
to learn from their expertise
mistakes management
staff interaction
all necessary important
skills learn everything
you can while waiting
for your own dreams
an important
knowledge skills
career with many
interactive fields
of acquired knowledge
waits over horizons
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Childhood Dreams
I cant's believe you need me
I never thought would be needed for anything
I can't believe my shoulder would carry such important weight
As your head and your tears
I can't believe you chose me, in all my fragility, me
It hurts so much when I love you, it makes me cry
Every time
You, you are, oh you are
The little boy made for mi in the stars
In the star, that's why I can't let you go
The little boy made for mi in the stars
That's why I love you more the further I go
And before this existence you were always there
Waiting for me
You are, you are the realest thing I know
Hands down
The realest thing I know
I am not used to being carried
Or being able to carry a pretty song
I have been bruised by my many trails
Sometimes my skin's so thick it's frail
I just need to be ignored 'til I wake up to the beauty that is yours
And it all comes to life so suddenly
This is a place so deep, the water's so deep I hesitate, cause
All the energy it takes to feel this power
I tend to run, I tend to hide, I tend to scream 'til I find you and I know I got you
I know, I know, I know
You're the little boy made for me in the stars
In the stars, that's why I can't let you go
The little boy made for me in the stars
That's why I love you more the further I go
And before this existence you were always here
Inside of me
You are, you are the realest thing I know
Hands down...the realest thing I know
I'm sliding on the rainbows of my childhood dreams
I'm sliding on the rainbows of my childhood dreams
When you carry me, when you carry me, when you carry me
It's so happy
I'm sliding on the rainbows of my childhood dreams
I'm sliding on the rainbows of my childhood dreams
song performed by by Nelly Furtado
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Houses of Dreams
You took my empty dreams
And filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun.
The old empty dreams
Where my thoughts would throng
Are far too full of happiness
To even hold a song.
Oh, the empty dreams were dim
And the empty dreams were wide,
They were sweet and shadowy houses
Where my thoughts could hide.
But you took my dreams away
And you made them all come true --
My thoughts have no place now to play,
And nothing now to do.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Waiting To Die
Look at the madness
It's out of control
It's feeding your sadness
And eating you soul
You're feeling so lonely
You're not very strong
You wait for the curtain
It's taking too long
You find you go nowhere
You're very confused
Swearing you're happy
It's just self abuse
You can think of 20 zillion places
you could be
If you could go
You cannot escape because
the world is watching you
And the know!!!
Hell is not anywhere
It's all in your mind
Dragging you thru time
Living in misery
No better company
Why should I try
Fetal oblivion
Riding around the sun
Waiting to die
Your drowning in sadness
You pray it's a dreams
Impossibly tragic
You silently scream
You might want the world to be as
miserable as you
That would be cruel
But lies and self-fulfilling prophecies
are all you have
You're just a fool
Hell is not anywhere
It's all in your mind
Dragging you thru time
Living in misery
No better company
Why should I try
Fetal oblivion
Riding around the sun
Waiting to die
Living in misery
No better company
Why should I try
Fetal oblivion
Riding around the sun
Waiting to die
Ahhh
Kills you
You waste away
Your eyes
You die afraid
Do you lie
Can you make it thru another day
of nothingness
Do you feel another minute is impossible
Can you fake another hour of "I'm doing fine!"
Dan you handle the emtombment of you soul
Ooooh!!
You thinking you're better
But it's not what it seems
Come off of you "Soma"
And see what I mean
Hell is not anywhere
It's all in your mind
Dragging you thru time
Living in misery
No better company
Why should I try
Fetal Oblivion
Riding around the sun
Waiting to die
Living in misery
No better company
Why should I try
Fetal Oblivion
Riding around the sun
Waiting to die
Ride, ride, ride till I die!!!
Ahhh
Kills you
You waste away
Do you cry?
Do you have anyone to tell you "no"?
Can you hide the total darkness of your soul?
Oooh
song performed by by Zebra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Standing On The Threshold
Standing on the threshold
Of the growing responsibilities,
I stare and peep out of mirror,
Mirrror of shadowed soul,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
The innocent dreams behold,
Through imagination, the colorful world,
And try to seek some answers,
The answers may be right or wrong.
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
When decency couldn’t be hold,
And being jealous was not off beam,
When there should be a crowd,
Crowd of plays & players around,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
There were fairies in stories, told
Which looked real & with soul,
And we used to build our own home,
Home exactly like of fairies land,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
The hands gradually gets fold,
With my fingers in it hold tightly,
For guiding me all the way,
The way that is now lost,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
The smile that was clear & bold,
Has now turned very wintry,
The unconditional loud laugh,
Now laughs loudly at me,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.
poem by Sudha Pandey
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To Hans Christian Andersen
We welcome you this wondrous summer-day,
When childhood's dreams on earth are streaming,
To bloom and sing, to brighten and to pale;
A fairy-tale,
A fairy-tale, our Northland all is seeming,
And holds you in its arms a festal space
With grateful glee and whisperings face to face.
Th' angelic noise,
Sweet strains of children's joys,
Bears you a moment to that home
Whence all our dreams, whence all our dreams have come.
We welcome you! Our nation all is young,
Still in that age of dreams enthralling,
When greatest things in fairy-tales are nursed,
And he is first,
And he is first, who hears his Lord's high calling.
Of childhood's longings you the meaning know,
And to the North a goal of greatness show.
Your fantasy
Has just that path made free,
Where, past the small things that you hate,
We yet shall find, we yet shall find the great.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Bangkok
Gotcha!
Hey sucker let me outa here!
Hey, man!
Bangkok on a sunny day
The rain has washed the blood away
Thousand of veins left in the streets
But I cant wash away the red points
On the sheets of the hotels
And the cheap rooms
Of the cheap whores
Under palm trees
Under palm trees
My brain is running in circles now
I gotta cure the pain somehow
Theres a coloured cloud in front of sun
And a face is trying to cheat me
And to take away the fun
And the killer troups of the dea
Have just brought my friend away
In the stuff that dreams are made of
In the stuff that dreams are made of
Stuff that dreams are made of
Hey, hey, hey!
Stuff that dreams are made of
Stuff that dreams are made of
Hey, hey, hey!
Stuff
Stuff that dreams
Are made of...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreams
Silent whispers
of dreams never spoken
in fear they maybe broken
Childhood dreams
is all we had
but we never had fears
As adults
all we have is fears
fear of war
fear of life
fears for our own
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Workin' On Leavin' The Livin'
In heaven everything is fine
In heaven everything's alright
In heaven everything is fine
In heaven everything is fine
In heaven
Working on livin'
I'm working on leaving
I'm working on leaving the living
Love you more than everything
Loved it more than anything
Loved everything more than anything
Working on drinking
I'm working on driving
I'm working on driving my dreams so
Working on living
I'm working on leaving
I'm working on leaving the living
In heaven everything is fine [x4]
In heaven everything's alright [both lines alternating x22]
In heaven everything is fine
In heaven
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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