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Reviving Childhood

Femininity must have tapped
Childhood's scrapbook. Pink-colored scrapbook.
Inside it –
Lies Childhood's vibrant drawings

Under thin plastic blankets. Where is she now?
The brown-haired
Tan one –
Or was she the blonde?

How many eras it's been since
I've seen her last!
Being Imagination herself –
I flip through

The scrapbook like a photo album.
My friend Childhood's markered-in picture –
Wide-eyed
At me stares –

Cat-like –
Baby-like –
Back at her
Date with Fate.

Her blonde and brown short hair
Sweeps horizontally across her forehead.
Her wings remind me of her
Angelic Death –

But I place a pale
Frail finger on the plastic
Blanket over the cream paper.
Over Childhood's darker cream hand –

Holding it –
Pulling it out of the captive page –
Smoothing it over like folded clothes
Until the fingers uncurl

Long enough to reach Freedom's moon.

poem by Amy Marie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Childhood Garden

my childhood garden

my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden

poem by Danielle Eager
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Childhood Love

the quiet one....
the innocent one..
five years old
posing for a picture
with the fellow sisters and brothers.
pink
bright child's dress..
dry clean only
hands held together;
brown eyes just waiting for a picture.

childhood friend..
couldn't live without him
cried tears of child-like pain
moved away
only five years old
leaving her very best friend

no matter they were only children
she moved away and left him
she loved him dearly with all her heart

childhood friend
you were the first

(On this date, I have dedicated this to Lauren and Abbey. They are best friends)

poem by TerriJo James
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Tale of Imagination

Beside Imagination say Childhood
As the sun bowed down to Freedom's Moon.
They knew they could - and they would -
Endure the night of June.

Imagination smiled blissfully
Turned to Childhood and said -
'You are my cause - my life.
Without you I'd be dead.'

Childhood replied like light -
'Soon I'll be gone but you will stay.
Three months to live is what I have -
That's all I have - they say.'

The two friends sat in silence then
The wind brushed their straight faces
How could either know just when
Fate would take their places?

They wandered down the empty beach
Let the chilly water lick their feet
Darkness enveloped them each
On their way to their retreat.

They finally arrived at the end
As they stood by Age's grave
Joyfully they met their friend
Named 'Destiny' who would save

Them from living apart.
Imagination turned her youthful eyes
To Childhood and her soft heart.
They joined hands and got a blissful rise.

Together they'd live no matter what
Or how or why or when
They'd live together - breathe together
What Joy would join them then!

poem by Amy Marie
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Childhood Is...

Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup

poem by Shenika Vermaak
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Late autumn

The yellow veldt, the skeleton chestnut trees
specs of orange-red aloes in the kopje
are near to the old white house
and in the late afternoon shades draw long lines

while I walk up to the house on the red-brown dirt road
and most of the flowers in the garden are stripped bare
but a few irises are flowering yellow,
purple and cream brown

and the sky is dull blue and the early evening cold
is already on the wind that is rustling everything
and after years I open the garden gate
are coming back to my childhood home

stripped from illusions,
and I am bare from the childhood innocence
but full of hope
and looking through a mature man’s eyes.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Len Webster's 'Childhood Is...

Childhood Is

when the world to come
is an adventure to be met

Childhood Is

running and hiding
peeking around blind corners
hoping you have been followed

Childhood Is

ducking and diving
dreaming of being in the best
football team in the world
and scoring the winning goal
in the Cup FInal

Childhood Is

being the perfect person
(or not being caught out
when you're not being
the perfect person)

Childhood Is

a mass of contradictions
you don't want to unravel

Childhood Is

a nice cosy bed,
clean sheets
and Mummy's kisses

poem by Len Webster
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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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Neighborhood

Heres a photo Ive been looking for
Its a picture of thee boy next door
And I loved him more than words could say
Never knew it til he moved away
Faded pictures in my scrapbook
Just thought Id take one more look
And recall when we were all
In the neighborhood
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Heres a photo of the neighborhood
Heres the corner where we stood
Heres a snapshot of dads old car
Never got us very far
Faded pictures in my scrapbook
Just thought Id take one more look
And recall when we were all
In the neighborhood
And all those friends
Where did they go, I dont know
All those friends we used to know
In the neighborhood

song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood's Sweet Song

Childhood forever gone
Just pleasant wisps remain
Close your eyes and remember
The bliss of young ignorance
Sitting on the worn brown rug
With Barbie in your hand
Your sisters on each side of you
How well you bond
How well you forgive
When you are young
Remember those precious days
For in the world where everything
Must all be explained
Where fairies can’t live in your hair
And kitty cats can’t talk
Childhood forever gone
And life sweeping along
Just continue to remember… childhood’s sweet song.

poem by Indigo Rose Christman
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Chasing Childhood

I had a ream last night,
Where i saw childhood run away,
I chased it til' i could no more,
And everything faded to grey.
What happened to the picnics,
Cotton Candy at the fair,
Nobody goes anymore,
Too busy to even care.
Where are the dress-up clothes,
Trips for ice cream after school,
Now we're doing homewrok,
Or pretending not to, If you're cool.
I woke up the next morning,
Wondering why i was so blue,
And i realized it was no dream,
I let childhood go too soon!

poem by Stacey Berry
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My Innocent Childhood

soil soil and soil, , playing in the soil,
No fear of disease, no fear of toil.
What a wonderful days that was,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

Only friend no foes,
no thinking of what dont and what does.
No fear of future, no thinking of present,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

What was the past, leave it, it surpassed,
what has to happen, lets face when it comes.
Future planning! What is this?
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

Play was religion and play was God,
only thing which gave fear, was my fathers rod.
Crying crying crying a lot, then said love you pappa,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

poem by Zeya Mallick
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Song For Bob Dylan

Oh, hear this robert zimmerman
I wrote a song for you
About a strange young man called dylan
With a voice like sand and glue
Some words of truthful vengeance
They could pin us to the floor
Brought a few more people on
And put the fear in a whole lot more
Ah, here she comes
Here she comes
Here she comes again
The same old painted lady
From the brow of a superbrain
Shell scratch this world to pieces
As she comes on like a friend
But a couple of songs
From your old scrapbook
Could send her home again
You gave your heart to every bedsit room
At least a picture on the wall
And you sat behind a million pair of eyes
And told them how they saw
Then we lost your train of thought
The paintings are all your own
While troubles are rising
Wed rather be scared
Together than alone
Ah, here she comes
Here she comes
Here she comes again
The same old painted lady
From the brow of a superbrain
Shell scratch this world to pieces
As she comes on like a friend
But a couple of songs
From your old scrapbook
Could send her home again
Aoo
Now hear this robert zimmerman
Though I dont suppose well meet
Ask your good friend dylan
If hed gaze a while down the old street
Tell him weve lost his poems
So theyre writing on the walls
Give us back our unity
Give us back our family
Youre every nations refugee
Dont leave us with their sanity
Ah, here she comes
Here she comes
Here she comes again
The same old painted lady
From the brow of a superbrain
Shell scratch this world to pieces
As she comes on like a friend
But a couple of songs
From your old scrapbook
Could send her home again
Come on
A couple of songs
From your old scrapbook
Could send her home again
Oh, here she comes, (oh) here she comes
Oh, here she comes (oh)

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blind Curve

(fish / marillion)
A) vocal under a bloodlight
Last night you said I was cold, untouchable
A lonely piece of action from another town
I just want to be free, Im happy to be lonely
Cant you stay away?
Just leave me alone with my thoughts
Just a runaway, just a runaway, Im saving myself
B) passing strangers
Strung out below a necklace of carnival lights
Cold moan, held on the crest of the night
Im too tired to fight
So now were passing strangers, at single tables
Still trying to get over, still trying to write love songs for passing strangers
All those passing strangers
And the twinkling lies, all those twinkling lies
Sparkle with the wet ink on the paper
C) mylo
Oh I remember toronto when mylo went down
And we sat and we cried on the phone
I never felt so alone
He was the first of our own
Some of us go down in a blaze of obscurity
Some of us go down in a haze of publicity
The price of infamy, the edge of insanity
Another holiday inn, another temporary home
And an interviewer threatened me with a microphone
talk to me, wont you tell me your stories.
So I talked about conscience and I talked about pain
And he looked out the window and it started to rain
I thought maybe Ive already gone crazy
So I reached for a bottle and he reached for the door
And I picked up the sleeping pills crushed on the floor
Inviting me to a casual obscenity
D) perimeter walk
It would be incredible if we could retrace all the times that we lived here
All the collisions
Wasted, Ive never been so wasted
Ive never been this far out before
Perimeter walk
Theres a presence here
I feel could have been ancient, I could have been mystical
Theres a presence
A childhood, my childhood
My childhood, childhood
A misplaced childhood
My childhood, a misplaced childhood
Give it back to me, give it back to me
A childhood, that childhood, that childhood, that childhood, that childhood
Oh please give it back to me
E) threshold
I saw a war widow in a launderette
Washing the memories from her husbands clothes
She had medals pinned to a threadbare greatcoat
A lump in her throat with cemetery eyes
I see convoys curbcrawling west german autobahns
Trying to pick up a war
Theyre going to even the score
Oh... I cant take any more
I see black flags on factories
Soup ladies poised on the lips of the poor
I see children with vacant stares, destined for rape in the alleyways
Does anybody care, I cant take any more!
Should we say goodbye?
Hey
I see priests, politicians?
The heroes in black plastic body-bags under nations flags
I see children pleading with outstretched hands, drenched in napalm, this is no vietnam
I cant take any more, should we say goodbye
How can we justify?
They call us civilised!

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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

poem by Tim Bovee
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Manami

I am Sorry. I am sorry those are the only words I can put to effort I am sorry I was not there to tell you good night, I am sorry that I wasn't there for your recitals. I am sorry I was not there to brush your hair, or get you ready for prom, I am sorry that I was not at you graduation that balmy June day. I am sorry that I was not at your wedding, to your dark haired handsome husband now that I look back and wish I could brush your blonde hair or to see your smiling face but, only in my dreams no more will I see the face of my young. I am sorry that I am your mother and for not being there when you need me the most so forgive me my sweet brown eyed blonde hair and with light tanned skin. Manami. I am Sorry.

poem by Raine Uchiha
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When Toys

Unfortunately someone did not have any toys
In the forgotton childhood...hides my attic.

Ingaged, they now play with the other toys
between the wooden rails...ironwood is....

Butterfly wings stick together while others cry
pulling back the wind they fly not far apart....

Jack and Jill they have no other toys
some where In your lost childhood...

When hills had eyes I came back to say
When toys..........

T.G.

poem by Is It Poetry
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Childhoods End (live)

Track 9 _Misplaced Childhood_
And it was morning.
And I found myself mourning,
for a childhood that I thought had disappeared.
I looked out the window,
And I saw a magpie in the rainbow, the rain had gone
I'm not alone, I turned to the mirror,
I saw you, the child, that once loved.
The child before they broke his heart,
Our heart, the heart that I believed was lost.
Hey you, surprised? More than surprised,
to find the answers to the questions,
Were always in your own eyes.
Do you realize that you give it on back to her?
But that would only be retraced in all the problems that you ever knew,
So untrue.
For she's got to carry on with her life,
and you've got to carry on with yours.
So I see it's me, I can do anything
And still the child,
'Cos the only thing misplaced was direction
And I found direction.
There is no Childhood's End.
There is no Childhood's End.
Cos' you are my childhood friend.
Cos' you are my childhood friend.
Oh lead me on.
Hey you, you've survived.
Now you've arrived,
to be reborn in the shadow of the magpie.
Now you realize, that you've got to get out of here.
You've found the leading light of destiny,
burning in the ashes of your memory.
You want to change the world.
You'd resigned yourself to die a broken rebel,
But that was looking backward.
Now you've found the light.
You, the child that once loved,
The child before they broke his heart.
The heart, the heart that I believed was lost
So it's me I see, I can do anything.
I'm still the child.
'Cos the only thing misplaced was direction, and I found direction.
There is no childhood's end.
There is no childhood's end.
There is no childhood's end.
I am your childhood friend.
Oh.. lead me on

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A childhood forgotten, A childhood lost

[NOTE: THIS POEM IS NOT TO BE USED ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY CONCENT. PLEASE USE THE LINKS IN MY BIOGRAPHY OR MESSAGES ON THIS SITE TO CONTACT ME. THANKS.]

I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhoods forgotten,
My Childhoods lost,

Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
or dancing in the streets,

I can't remember,
The crash in the fog,
My childhood was forgotten,
My childhood was lost,

The doctor doing surgery,
Me getting pills,
I can't remember any of it,
None of it's clear,

I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forgotten,
My childhood's lost!

Well I'm gonna end it right now,
I gonna kill myself off,
A childhood Forgotten,
A childhood lost

poem by Dani Baxter
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When Imagination Imagines

When Imagination imagines –
Her frame she drapes in red.
Fine white pearls her neck circle
Like a ring – it's said.

Walks she then down Childhood's street –
Proceeding in high heels.
Crispy leaves the edges line
Like a rope – that reels.

Imagination – Childhood meets –
Beneath the tree of Destiny.
Ponder they – their secret bond –
Why existent it must be.

Arrive – they do – at Age's grave-
Lit by Freedom's moon.
Fireflies to them sing –
The autumn breeze joins soon.

poem by Amy Marie
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The Blue Tit's Nest

Some childhood memories with us seem to linger
And I recall when I was nine or so
Of seeing blue tit fly from hole in standing tree stump
One April day more than forty years ago.

I stood on tip toes and tried to look inside the tree stump
But all seemed dark in there I needed light
I hurried back home for to fetch a flash lamp
And what I saw a memorable sight.

A little nest of moss and hay and lined with feathers
And nine pale eggs with freckles brown to red
Laid by the little bird with yellow unders
Blue wings and tail and tiny blue cap on head.

I marvelled at this wondrous sight of Nature
How one small bird so many eggs could lay
The memory all those years has remained with me
And I still can picture what I see today.

I still can picture forty five years later
Nine speckled eggs in nest of moss and hay
Some things from childhood always remain with us
And from the memory never fade away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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