Last Commented Childhood Poems (355)

Sleep well my infant dear, gently rest
in your new world bathed with heavenly light;
Whilst I, with oceanic tears my grief invest,
for my infant dear, live in spheres of endless night,

Pray I therefor, your eyes grace a differing day,
annulling pain, which each earthy day did pass,
sad aching arms that once the loving breast did lay,
that unquestionable love, wherein the Motherly heart amass,

Thus, heart torn and wrenched, alone in morbid solitude,
empty the yearning arms, relegated to despondent shade,
wet the woeful eyes, yet love's vision still intrude,
for betwixt us both, corridors shall ne'er be slayed,

Nurtured I, your all too shorter days, sanctified no less
though sadly brief, lovingly proud, I happy bore
thee to my breast, my whole being did so address,
yet now in grief, wished that I could have done more,

I, in fruitful sorrow still your passing pine,
for our hopes and what might have been,
to daily watch the rich progression of the vine
amid the fields of life bathed in youthful green.

My nanna used to bring me to Blackpool beach,

I was her favourite little peach.


I remember that day as clear as the polar bears in Iceland,


As I was sitting on the donkey his footprints in the sand,

I heard a yell so I looked behind me

What did I see,

My nanna laughing hysterically on her cushioned bum,

The hired out deck chair had come undone,

Oh I loved those days with my nanna

Under the Blackpool sun.

My memory's of a hired out deck chair,


And my lovely nanna .


Your not forgotten.

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.

To see the world through a child's eyes
Colour ricochets with feelings of wonder 
Time endless days are weeks 
Innocence a gift in youth 
Sheer joy free a feeling of bliss 
A child's mind spirit and soul 
Capable of rational taken by age 
Excitement combined with curiosity 
Experiences indulging with eyes bulging 
The beauty of age is to appreciate time 
The beauty of youth is times importance to be unknown 
A child brought into the world 
Priceless happiness to those who may hold
A child of their own a new spirit created 
With a part of yourself imitated 
Some of us will never be blessed 
With this true gift of a child a legacy left

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.

Fast away when time was gold
When daybreak a new story to be told
When life was pure and my mind was clear
And thses words had I not heard anyone say

But now say I
And almost cry
Fast Away

Fast away when steps I took
When tomorrow came as a story from a treasure book
When years make it known how time would appear
And these words had I not heard anyone say

But now say I
And almost cry
Fast away

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

WE MET, WHEN YOU WERE FIVE, AND I WAS SIX! WE ENGAGED IN GAMES OF PICK UP STIX! THEN YOU ENROLLED, IN ACTING SCHOOL; WHILE I REMAINED, THE ETERNAL FOOL! THEN, ONE DAY, YOU BECAME A STAR; AND I WAS FORCED TO WORSHIP FROM AFAR! I MADE UP MY MIND TO ENROLL IN ACTING SCHOOL! SHORTLY, AFTER, I ACHIEVED GREATNESS; NOW, I'M NO ONES FOOL! WE MET, AT LAST; EACH ONE, A STAR; NOW, I'LL NO LONGER WORSHIP, FROM AFAR!

Reading as a Child


Where can I find quiet?

My thoughts scatter at sounds

knocking, knock-knocking.

Inside the panelled cave dwells parents’ silent attire.

I enter and turn, facing out.

Calm cottons, serene silks, peaceful polyesters

drape behind me like ghosts from the past.

I roll the hollow door shut, pressing in the peace.

As I lower myself to sit,

I fall through layers of shoe funk

hovering two feet thick.

Unfortunately, the quiet awakens Tinnitus,

who is usually hidden laced within the racket.

Finally secure, I concentrate my quilted mind under a dim bulb

and over words barely reflecting into peepholes.

Comprehension is vital

dad wears out his tongue,

as Mom sits hooked,

weaving twisted worries

that I pattern.

thanks guys!!!