Most Commented Childhood Poems (355)

dawn melts the yellow sun as i sit in in a world of new imagination the yellow sky follows me into night i wonder through dreams of yellow clouds with yellow birds and when i wake up i feel the yellow sun stare into my soul as i walk down the streets of yellow

imaginary old fable tales days of our dreams dreams that are real think thought thunder crashing like hail one by one we conquer this we live in a forest of brilliance with magical lifeforms and dreams that make a child as happy as a movie pineapple trees and dreams and lemon sky with elfs and even queens in our fable tale

SO SMALL HE WAS TO DEAL WITH PAIN,

BORN IN AN EMPTY HOME OF SHAME,

NO CHANCE TO LAUGH LIKE CHILDREN DO,

CONFUSED, AND SCARED, WITHOUT A CLUE,

HIS MOM WAS THERE YET FAR AWAY,

THOUGHT NO ONE CARED, ALONE HE PLAYED.

BIG SAD BROWN EYES SILENTLY SCREAMED,

SANG LOUD AND PROUD, MUSIC'S HIS DREAM.

GREW UP REAL FAST,HE HAD NO CHOICE,

RELEASED HIS PAIN WITH SINGING VOICE.

THIS CROSS HE BARED, TO MUCH FOR ONE,

HE'S STRONG NOW GROWN, HE IS MY SON.

Weeping Willow oh how you spray.
So gallant laying astray.
Branches of steel yearning so high.
Weeping Willow oh so strong,
Why do you cry?

We sit together on the bench, watching Nora play
"Look! Look at me!" she cries
Her little red head bounces and darts to and 'fro
She picks up a leaf, a stone, a dandelion,
Rushes up to us now and again, revealing her treasures
Small in stature, big in spirit, she dances across the lawn
We look at each other and smile,
Our eyes showing what our hearts know
Oh, what exquisite joy! Holding hands,
Watching Nora grow

I count each precious baby kiss
And store them deep inside
For future reference
When kisses may not come so easily
From growing lips.
I see you standing there,
Small, yet tall and proud
In new school clothes
And my heart catches in my throat.
Where has my baby gone?
We drive to school
And I fight the urge
To rush you home
Safe with me forever.
I see your face alight with joy
And hear your endless chatter,
Caught up in the excitement
Of new adventures.
I know you are ready,
Already beginning to let go of me
In small ways.
I am not prepared for this.
My throat tightens again and my heart aches.
I know you are ready.
Will I ever be?

1990
U Can't Touch This - MC Hammer

1991
Black or White - Michael Jackson

1992
Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-A-Lot

1993
Linger - The Cranberries

1994
I Swear - All-4-One

1995
Gangsta's Paradise - Coolio

1996
Killing Me Softly With His Song - The Fugees

1997
MMMbop - Hanson

1998
Ghetto Superstar - Pras

1999
I Want It That Way - Backstreet Boys

My young ears hear the sound in the night
It is my first night
The rhythmic rush and pound
and the quiet churn surrounds me

The window, cracked open slightly
brings in the cold fume of the salty air
Each breath is soothing
and I fall asleep

No dreams
No worries
No cares
No pain

The sound carries me
as if I was afloat upon it
each swell denies the harsh realities
My body dips and peaks with the tide

I wake to the sun
the sound is still there
rhythmic pounds and churns
I only need to be quiet to listen at any time

Poet to Poet

early morning/
darkness/

Poet, old bag of bones
upside down,
what are you searching for
in poetry,
in meditation?

the mother you never had?

the child in you
that you did not conceive?

death?
ease from the fear of death?

Revelation?

dwelling in the house of the clouds
where you imagine
you once lived?

"Born alone,
we depart alone."

melancholy poet,
behind your clown face
behind your wise cracks-
how heady it is
to let the ideas rush to your pen.

but even upside down
you are sad.

Even upside down,
I think of our death.
Even upside down
I curse the emptiness.

(pause)

Meditating, poet,
on the immobile lotus,
my mind takes flight
like a butterfly
& dabbles in bloodred poppies
& purple heather.
Defying gravity,
Defying death

what makes you think
the riddle is better solved
upside down?

Blood rushes to your head
like images that come to fast
to write.

After a life held in the double grips
of gravity & time, poet,

After a headfirst birth
out of your mother's bowels
& into the earth,
you practice for the next,
you make your body light
so that in time,
feet first, poet
you will be born
into the sky.

I must close...take care, poet.

I love to sleep because i pretend that i'm dead, but i hate waking up, 'cause it's hard to forget that i've lost all control of this life that i've held so dear. I wait for the bus but i'm not on the bench. I'm just spread across the ground making friends with cement. hoping that the bus won't miss me when it comes my way.
Well i made a few jokes and they said they weren't funny. i tried to force a smile but they said it was ugly. i tried to make a friend but no one was a friend to me. Poured my heart to a girl and it went on the floor, and i asked her what she wanted, and she said she wanted more. i tried to find a lover, all i found was an enemy.

Well i stand in front of the mirror and look at myself and i don't make a sound but my eyes scream out help. and i start to struggle to hold myself back from thrusting my heart straight through the f*cking glass. and im tired of falling for girls that don't care, and breaking my back just to make them aware that i'm more than depressed, and their time won't be wasted, But i am just a broken boy that no one wants to play with.

Now i'm lost in this hole and i'm sure i am stuck, and i cant run away 'cause i'm lazy as f*ck. And i sit on the floor as i gather my thoughts, and their full of broken promises that only piss me off. Well i lost control when i was only a boy. The world taught me angst when i deserved joy. Now im breaking down as i struggle to breathe, 'cause i believe in a God that won't believe in me.