Last Commented Childhood Poems (355)

Claps of thunder and wisps of coastal winds give signal to the storm approachin',
Drops of a bitter-sweet rain trace down my face...wetting my lips and clearing my frown.


I hear myself whisper - "A truce must be drawn"...between the warrior within, and the coward without.
The cobblestones echo my footsteps as the day seems to hasten below the horizon...
Magnolias and giant Oak canopy the path to the old plantation, and granite stones;
scribed reminders of former generations dot the grave just past the old barn...
now dilapidated and ignored from years of indifference.


I remember growing up here - the heat, the slow pace of life, the white sands, the Live Oaks and Palmettos and of course.....those Dixie Storms.They come...like sheets of celophane racing across the fields, soon to drench the ground and the cobblestone lanes; the rains mirror the fury of the gusts...tossing each and every raindrop like marbles dropped from a bucket - escorted by a celestial drum corps of thunder and cymbal claps...
How I do miss those Dixie Storms.


Gregory S.

On a broken road direction is hard to find
I crossed the line they drew for me
Only to find afflicted missery
Fallin behind
Loosing my mind
Trying to find my way
Feeling diseased I fell on my knees and started to prey

Send for an angel to watch over me
Cuz I'm all alone here and I know that you can see
I'm trapped inside a world not ment for me
Until I loose my gravity

So please act quickly
I'm feeling so sickly
Running out of reason to believe in me
But I believe in you
And all the things that you do
And by the power in you
Everything is made new
Please act quickly I need you

I jsut can't think

I'm losing control

The pain that's inside

Runs straight to my soul

Deep, dark, and empty

Tired of living in sin

My mind starts to wonder

Where do I begin

When when my dad would beat me

Or should I be 18

When love always escapes

I've never known happiness

Or felt loves truest form

Now deep in my mind

Rages a violent storm

voyager in long riddles
words shining like a gem
in my foolhardy scheme
maze and amazing puzzles...
Iam dreaming a story
our intimate diary
playing fugue and melody
fingers wine and satin
on the tender of your skin
I love you,morning green
red blossom and polar white
spirit of light...
easter island so close
my secret purpose...
touching my soul
with a fragment of star
vibrato,the whole
our violin in tune
the door ajar
mild of a dune...
beyond the sands of time
brushing your lands and lime
sumertime sunday
to the next journey
sensitive murmuring dawn
over the moon and warm alone...

I couls see the look in his eyes,
The look he gets when our mother cries,
A look of horror,
A look of pure terror,
And as I saw him shed a single tear,
He turns away...
And flies.

I REMEMBER BACK IN THE LATE 60'S, EARLY 70'S ,WE LIVED ON THIS BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FARM, ABOUT THREE AND A QUARTER MILE FROM TOWN. THE HOUSE SAT BACK ABOUT A HUNDRED YARDS FROM THE ROAD. IT HAD A HUGE FRONT YARD WITH HARDLY ANY GRASS AT ALL.
ON ONE SIDE OF THE HOUSE, THERE WAS A BEAUTIFUL WEEPING WILLOW, STANDING SO TALL AND GRACEFUL, SWAYING IN THE WIND, LIKE A HULA DANCER'S SKIRT SWAYS, WITH THE MOVEMENT OF HER HIPS. AND THE SWEET SMELL OF HONEY SUCKERS FILLED THE AIR, AS THE BREEZE BLEW GENTLY!
THERE WERE AN OLD OUT-HOUSE OUT BACK NEXT TO A FENCE THAT SURROUNDED A PASTURE FULL OF HOGS. HUGE TREES STOOD IN THE MIDST OF IT: OAK TREES, CHINABERRY TREES, FIG TREES, AND A TINY PEACH TREE FILLED WITH TINY GREEN PEACHES.
ACROSS THE ROAD THER WERE A FRESHLY PLOWED FIELD, ANDYOU COULD SMELL THE FRESH DIRT FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE MILES AWAY; AND IN THE SUMMER, AFTER THE CROPS WERE FULLY GROWN: THE CORN, THE PEAS, THE COLLARDS, MUSTARDS, BUTTERBEANS, AND A PATCH OF WATERMELONS, THEY BROUGHT OUT THE BEAUTY OF THE LAND THAT THEY OCCUPIED!
AT NIGHT THE STARS SHONE SO BRIGHT, IT WAS AS THOUGH SOMEONE TURNED ON THE LIGHTS OF HEAVEN. ANT THEY SEEMED SO CLOSE, THAT YOU COULD REACH UP AND TOUCH THEM.
EVERYTHING WAS SO CALM AND PEACEFUL, EXCEPT FOR THE WHIRLING OF THE COOL BREEZE THROUGH THE CORNFIELD AND THE TREE TOPS. OCCASIONALLY, YOU MIGHT HEAR A CAR PASSING BY, OR THE HOOTING OF AN OWL IN A FAR AWAY DISTANCE.
I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT BEAUTIFUL PLACE. ESPECIALLY THE KITCHEN WHERE MOMMY WAS ALWAYS BAKING BREAD. AND OH, THE AROMA THAT CAME FROM MOMMY'S KITCHEN! IT SMELLED LIKE SOMEONE OPEN A BAKERY RIGHT IN OUR FRONT YARD! THOSE WERE HAPPY TIMES FOR ME, TIMES I SHALL NEVER FORGET!..........LILLIE

She walked to the schoolhouse every day and every day
zshe wore the dress.
She walked through the Naarrows, past
The bulfield beyond where the wildflowers grew
The dress ws one of two she owned the other Sundays best
.She walked with head lowered missing the world growing around her.
On poetry day she stood before her mates
trying to balance pride and shame..
The dress hung heavy, each check a burdensome weight,
She struggled, trying to maintain her dignity.
One day she ran from the schoolhouse beyond where
The wildflowers grew and beyond to Jenny pond
She threw the dress into the pond, the grave for gingham dresses
the weeds digesting the Gingham dress
She resched for a stick laying in the sun.\
zand a smallfigure could be seen in a white cotton slip
Skipping along the dirt road drawing pictures of freedom on the earth’

As trees render leaves in Fall,\
Magic eyes watch Red Balloons bumping blue skies
While playground swings grow large spikes
And the sky is void of high flying kites.
pigeons mute their coo.
Gone is the man with his humoring bell
And all the slides go straight to hell.
Befor red balloons bumped blue skies
Tthe world tasted big
Appetites broad, smacking with gusto,
Pies of sod,
We painted the world we wished for,
Then the brush snapped in two
And Red Balloons bumping blue skies,
Mutated t a grayish hue. .
To melt the spikes,
to taste the world,
To hear the humoring bell
Unlike warm blood seeking a wind
We need only tap the child within.

Never say never because the one you invite today could be your tomorrow's ideal partner,

Never say never because once you're online the bundle of texts is what you receive,

Never say never because only God knows fun is what we here for.

Time is a rule, maybe a ruler, don't be fool, school, cool