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Death Childhood Poems | Death Poems About Childhood

These Death Childhood poems are examples of Death poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Death Childhood poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Details | Free verse | |

Under the Willow Trees

A path strewn thick with rusty leaves led to nowhere and everywhere in our fantasies, rescuing us from after school chores and homework pages wrinkled in time; a memory come and gone returns to me. Back home, under a row of willow trees, I weep for my childhood friend, for the innocence lost, I thought I could keep, for the faded line between joy and pain that suddenly comes with age; I close moist eyes to see you dancing in rain showers and climbing up rays of sunlight, imagination uncaged; running carefree for hours - just us, two, whether skies were shades of gray or blue. We said forever, a pinky swear I remember, naïve in our make-believe world. How many years passed by, distance growing between you and I? A phone call once-in-a-while became just a Christmas card once-a-year. I hope you always knew the truth, I loved you, my dear friend. Time cannot erase our laughter caught on the autumn breeze and the childhood secrets shared on that path strewn thick with rusty leaves, trodden bare each year come fall of winter snow. Our laughter now echoes in dreams, chaffing the row of willow trees still sulking low, moss brushing tears in timeless beauty, waiting for you to come home.


Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Ballad | |

Disturbed Child

That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows


Details | Free verse | |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
FAT
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
repeating,
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
no
is daddy raping her?
no
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
pass...
did anyone molest her? 
pass....
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
more... 
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
FAT!!!!!!
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
FAT!
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...


Details | Rhyme | |

Angels Above

Angels Above
A. W. Nutter

At fifteen, I was to young to become a father
At fourteen, she didn’t need to be a mother
We were old enough to have sexual relations
Unable to understand the implications

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love

Parents abusing us for this sinful union
Adolescents fearful and full of confusion
Not able to cope with the adult pressure
The mothers young body goes into labor

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love

My son struggled between life and death
I held his hand as he took his last breath
From my hands his little body was pried
The tears falling like rain from my eyes

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love.

Occasionally the mother and my path will cross
Seldom do we mention or discuss our loss
But every year at nine, on the sixteenth of May
We both agreed, to light a candle and silently pray

To the angels watching from heaven above
 Shower our son with mercy, show him your love



Details | Quatrain | |

The Whispered Song

The warrior lays her weary head, 
With heavy heart she cannot bear, 
Burning tears stream down her face, 
As whispered memories touch the ear.

Her armour tarnished by remorse, 
Her battle-cry a wimpered row, 
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude, 
Will never know forgiveness now.

The song began two score ago, 
When two came knocking at her door, 
In need of refuge from the world, 
Of that, and love, and little more.

Forced to fight for every smile, 
Her only solace found in song, 
She longed for love to rescue her, 
And plant her where she could belong.

Jealous tongues are seldom kind, 
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love, 
The caged canary only sings, 
When coaxed to praise from up above.

For the steely spine that now I own, 
Forever shall I grateful be, 
A gift from her, and from her own. 
Courage mounted inwardly.

I'll not forget how I have loved thee, 
And youthful memories I will prize, 
Til on the shore of His forgiveness, 
Whereto now, we both shall rise.



Details | Sonnet | |

Choices, Voices and Bad Company

Choices, Voices and Bad Company

Bang , bang , gunshots in heated night air sang 
jump back , be careful where you nightly hang
Fun, fun , going where the night action stays
danger waits hidden when nights replace days!

Kick it, kick it, time to chase the gals
beware safety gone if you hang with pals
So carry a shooter , step up your game
name in the paper soon may be your fame!

Hold on, hold on, your future life has game
you grab future rejecting drugs so lame
Stand up , a man that carries his own weight
yield not to greed, lust and all useless hate!

Live on, living to find your star and shine
Live on, love in life ,  love so very fine!

Robert J. Lindley  08-24-2014

Note: A sonnet that presents today's life choices are 
often far more serious when made than young
people can realise. Seeking action and thrills 
always come with a cost. Quite often a deadly cost!
Don't freely decide to get yourself so lost!
Been there, down that, long ago..


Details | Rhyme | |

Bouncebackability

Born I was, still alive today, down, but I'll be back to say Even at a small age, when our house burnt to the ground Disorientated, confused, in it's smoke filled surround With no other place to go, to a Caravan we called our home It was the events after this, that allowed my mind to roam Little me playing in a field, on a broken bottle I fell Crimson fountains erupted, I survived, as I'm here to tell That Monday night so special, Boys Brigade we headed to be I tried to run faster, but my brother was faster than me Out of the opening he went, boy running, was he skilled He was there, but gone the next, knocked down, my brother killed My mind now in roam and wander, fathers health started to slide Where does a seven year old turn to, to whom does he confide Pillar to post I headed, fostered out, and to children's homes Six years later many more tears, my father in deathly roam To my father I kept my promise, to the Royal Navy I would go Whilst training, caught under a raft, my life nearing slow Pulled from the water was I, nearly drained of what little I had A release of water, a gasp of air, hours later feeling so glad Eventually what I'd always wanted, to be happy and family be Married to the girl whom I'd know, would love to marry me But to a colleague I'd declared my worries, of a phone call I'd take For History would repeat itself, to awaken to a possible wake That call finally arrived, to the telephone, speaking to my eldest son Liam his younger brother, knocked down, my tears in run I'm blessed that he was saved, which cancelled out that call I only wish that technology was, that I'd have a firewall This is me up to date, apart this last weekend Again I thought I lost my youngest, once again relieved of strain Hours up at the Hospital, the first human skull I've seen A serious cut to his head, but what it could have been This my life's chapter, around the corner we never know But all I can say to the above, around me continues to glow .


Details | Rhyme | |

Pain

Pain is all I feel in my life, 
For example, like being cut with a knife.
Since I was born,
Pain is all that’s come to me.
I don’t understand,
So I ask just one question, Lord Why Me?
I’ve been hurt in many ways,
And no one cares they just want to get paid.
Why does money have to cause so much pain?
So much pain, that I cry more than it rains.
Pain is what my heart is mostly full of,
Cause no one cares, but the man above.


Details | Free verse | |

Death of a Child

He Spent Most of His Childhood Identifying 

With his own Mind, Watching his Brain Mould

And Gestate into a Universal Quandary of 

Short Circuits and Bad Wiring.

         -God is an Incompetent Electrician-

Their Feet Hit The Numbers in The Squares,

He Turned The Digits To letters, Each Imprint

Forging Alphabets in His Head.

         -Some Taunted, Some Observed-
      -              None Understood                  -

He Writhed in His Classroom Chair, It Never

Became Comfortable, His Blood Screamed In

Liquid Agony and Circulated His Wooden Frame.

         - His Chewed Nails Clawed at The Desk -

His Thoughts Where Composed of Miracles.

I Am His Testament To The World:

To The Boy Who Died in me,

So Many Years Ago.


Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Lyric | |

Pins and Needles

Another song written in middle school - edited of course. ;)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Verse 1] I'm trapped within these walls Never to leave at all I am the prisoner inside my own home My spirit is broken I do not believe I'm locked in this chamber which I cannot leave [Chorus] The needles that break the skin The anger that runs within I’m giving it all away Just to stay alive The needles that pierce my veins It will never be the same We’re on pins and needles now It’s how we survive [Verse 2] They say he’ll find me soon Got to get out of this room The blood will spill and he’ll take what he wants to I’ll never let him through GET OUT OF MY DREAM He whispers in darkness, “I’m not who I seem…” [Chorus] [Verse 3] The four walls around me They start to close in I know I’m too late now I know I can’t win So just tell me I’m crazy It’s all in my head You’re not the killer And I am not dead [Chorus] [Breakthrough] Don’t tell me it’s impossible To start it all over again Infection sinks through your pale skin You’ll curse the day that I’m dead [Chorus]


Details | Couplet | |

A Child's View of Death

A Child’s View of Death

People say now that Grandpa was thin
But he had plump cheeks; cancer had set in 

Each Sunday penny candy in my hand he’d place
And with rugged hands he’d embrace my face

To an impetuous toddler, his cigars smelled foul
But I don’t remember him ever sporting a scowl

On the way to mass my hand he’d squeeze
And no one ever mentioned his disease

But I’ll not forget the way mama cried
When she hugged me and said Grandpa had died

Though yellow tulips bloomed outside
I entered that parlor where emotions ran high

Grandpa looked peaceful, like he was asleep
I walked softly toward him, not making a peep

Where was that smile I’d come to expect
Not one movement could I detect

It can cause harm taking preschoolers to funerals
Death viewings can be the most frightening rituals

Fear lingered for months as I dreamt of him
Lying in a coffin, his skin cold and face grim

Children should remember those who have passed
Alive and happy, the way they’d seen them last

A fear of death plagued me for many years
I couldn’t accept that good people disappear

From our lives, to be buried in the ground
In thoughts of this loss, my spirits drowned

It wasn’t till later I realized the eternal life of souls
And that in both forms of life, we each have our roles

Be sure to tell little ones of God’s special home
And how our deceased loved ones sit by His throne

In coming to terms with this revelation
I learned to see death as a new life’s creation



*For Lay's "Darkest Childhood Memory" Challenge


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Park -- Part One

Pigeons flutter in the park
eating refuse from the grass.
Noon comes; the hours pass.
Leaves fall; the sky grows dark.
Silence reigns throughout the park.
A crumpled headline, a forgotten toy,
lifeless, do not hear a far-off bark.
In the park, not a single little boy.
Midnight comes; the hours go --
soon, the sky begins to glow...
morning breaks, and with it, sound.
In the park begins the morning round.
White skeletons of benches -- slats --
in all the wintry parks of Age
fill up in morning. Deserted flats,
each with the aspect of a cage,
become an unused, waiting gauge
that measures dull and wasted years --
floods of loneliness -- rivers of fears...
The weak and battered, pallid crowd
which, daily, parks ingest
speak in muted tones; but loud
is the message all suggest.
The clangor of the beaten Belles,
trampled in the slime of years,
entreats the mind to plug its ears;
yet, if it will, it hears...
memories, perhaps, keep active still
the shriveled and the loosened flaps
that are the mouths of all the Bills --
reduced to gray and ugly gaps...
Down the graveled pathways come
children bent on carefree play.
Belles, though silent, are not dumb,
nor will the Bills forego their say.
But warnings fall on ears too deaf;
around are eyes too blind to see.
And so the tots, too young for Death,
play on and on till time for tea.
Day after day after day
children come and children play.
Pigeons flutter in the park;
Leaves fall; the sky grows dark.
Once more, deep silence claims the park.
Midnight hours come and go.
The sky again assumes a glow.
Wind stirs dead leaves to rustle.
Starts again the aimless bustle
of the battered, weak, and infirm-eyed:
those whom living failed -- who died
but still must play their signal role
of unloved, friendless, unhailed Old;
who gather daily in the park
to envy tots their vital spark --
the hope, the promise in their eyes --
before it fades, before it dies.
But tots at play -- the young, the bold --
must laugh and sing -- cannot be told
that youth's not long and Time is cold.
Time devours -- a ravenous beast --
and men are the courses at his feast.
Some he swallows in their prime,
 On some he waits too long a time:
 these rancid morsels, Time's midnight snack,
explore their memories. They hie them back
 to that old moment, deepest black, 
when they first dared to know -- and first said --
that Time's the master all men dread.
(Please read The Park -- Part Two, which is a continuation of
this poem...due to space limitations)


Details | Free verse | |

Understanding Suicide Understanding Me

Understanding Suicide Understanding Me

Awhile back I had a dear friend contact me to ask if I heard about the young mans suicide at a nearby towns school. I had not. After asking one time on face book if any one of my friends had heard of any such event. My wall began to fill up with details about his life and his personality. His struggles and even previous attempts to end or erase his existence.

He was described as having dreamy eyes by female classmates when he was younger. He was described as the most polite and well mannered but troubled child one person said they had ever met.
Memories of my own changing years flooded my soul as I thought about it all. I did a school report in what they called then Junior High. And my chosen topic was suicide. I've often asked myself why I chose that topic. Today will be one of the very few times I admit it was on my mind a lot during that period of my life. It wasn't because my home life was unbearable. It wasn't because I had no friends or because my young heart had been broken.

In fact I'm only just now realizing it had almost nothing at all to do with my surroundings. It was something within me. Fear certainly had a part to play. Fear of tomorrow. Fear of never really feeling like I fit in. Even though by all outward appearances I was adjusting as well as the majority of people my age.

There was then and sometimes even now this voice. This relentless cruel and demeaning voice always there to remind me. I'll never be good enough. I will always only get what I deserve and that's why I'll never have anything that lasts. Anything that is true. And truly mine.

I was only given a passing grade for my report on suicide because it was obvious the amount of time and effort I put into it. I was told the topic I chose was wrong for a jr high school project. I had failed again. All of that after listening with blood pumping that we could choose our own topic. Somehow my choice wasn't good enough.

I realize now that my very choice for a topic should have sent off bells and whistles throughout the school that one of their own was thinking thoughts of suicide. But they missed it. They didn't see me at all.

Today I don't know why I chose that topic. But I know that one result of it was the saving of my own life. The understanding I gained by being able to see inside the mind that is tormented by unanswerable questions all starting or ending with why? And the realization that to the troubled mind the ultimate answer to fix the most un fixable things.
Is to end it.

This is the point when discussing suicide where fools love to chime in un researched and selfish insensitive remarks revealing their opinions and the fact that they are a fool. 
 A wise man knows only what he knows.
And he does not pretend to have already been where he never hopes to go.

People often consider suicide to be a selfish act. Sometimes referring to it as a cowards way out.

I hate that. And I hate anything that tries to simplify something as complex as a human mind that has reached it's breaking point.

The fact is that to the person in the midst of that struggle. It is the most unselfish and heroic thing that they think they could do.

My point is, that it was my understanding of suicide. It's effects and it's consequences that kept me from crossing that line.

After all the details of this young life surfaced and several hours later my dear friend and I talked again. And without saying it I know she was asking about this path I'm on with my poetry. The tributes to loved ones that have died. The heartache and the heartbreak that I see every day sometimes all day long.

And she asked me. Does all the sadness ever get to you? I responded Absolutely.
There are times I struggle beneath its weight. Sometimes I fall. But somehow I manage to get up again and I keep writing and sometimes when I'm lucky I see someones reaction to a poem where all of a sudden they get it. A life changing revelation takes place in that moment in time. And for a minute. 
I win.

I know the reason I'm alive is to help other people live.

And to find the fullness in their life that I may or may not ever find for myself. It's no longer about me. Because you see somewhere back there that part of me that wanted so badly just to die.

I let it die. And I moved on but not me as I was. A different me. Weaker in some ways and stronger in others. Less proud but more to be proud of. More easily overwhelmed but less breakable.

And so when you see me on the mountaintop and I'm strutting around acting like I belong there. Please. Just let me have that one moment. Because tomorrow I'll be back with the mountain on top of me. Trying to find another way to save someone from going where I have been and hoping to enrich other peoples lives even if it means I know I'm simply going to be passed up along the way.

My reward is you rising above my highest point. My fee for my services? That you never forget how valuable you are. And that you keep pushing forward and never give up.

If you forget me tomorrow. That's ok. But don't forget the things I said.  And don't forget to help someone else along the way.

.

God Bless

Heart Whisperer Ed Hofert @ facebook

Edwin C Hofert


Details | Rhyme | |

After the fall

Quite frankly, I don't remember at all
You see I was quite young when I took my first fall.
Don't know which parent was there to catch me
Or how hard the decision was to stand back and let me. 
Did I topple forward or backward, or who made the call. 
And who scooped me up crying
After the fall.
I can't remember the joy of first letting go
And taking that step without holding on. 
Groping my way forward
Leaning against the wall
I got back up 
After the fall.
As the Earth spun the years flew by so fast
At 17 I finally knew everything at last!!
Unexpectedly, I fell once again,
Head over heels this time 
And out on a limb.
I was so sure of that bet
I gambled it all
Heart bruised abused and then broken
After that fall.
And then I broke my own promise 
To not love again.
Hungry for life
I gambled to win.
Life is a theatre of first steps first 
A one act play with no time to rehearse.
Co starring in roles
Cast without planning.
"Never more" echoes 
The raven still chanting.
Undaunted unwilling
To let darkness win all
Trusting Father to be there
After the fall.
Then the day came
When I had a son
To let him learn the word hot And hope he'd not run,
Would he still love me
Or trust me at all
When I pulled my hand back
And allowed him to fall?
And knowing I'd be there again
To help him to stand
And knowing he might never walk
If I didn't let go of his hand
And hoping he didn't revert back to a crawl
When I let go of his hand
And allowed him to fall.
As the earth kept on turning
My heart kept yearning
My son now a man
Living and learning.
He hasn't held my hand now in a very long time
The cats in the cradle slowly plays in the back of my mind.
I looked in the mirror today
And noticed my dad.
And remembered a talk that we'd never had.
Remembering how he seemed towering and tall 
And was there every time 
After each fall.
I lose my balance these days now and again
My steps aren't as sure
As they once might have been. 
In the winter of life now
I feel so small
And wonder who'll catch me
If I take a fall. 
I suppose I'll just have to trust Father
With both great things and small 
To pick me up on the other side
When I take my last fall.


Details | Rhyme | |

Tombstones & Teacups

Death belies the darkness summoned,
tombstone-colored is the sky,
shards of memories merely fragments,
wailing wind the sole reply.

Violent storm winds strip the tree limbs
like a poltergeist, unseen,
tawdry feeders, heavy wind chimes,
beat against the window screens.

Waiting for the glass to shatter,
like so many childhood dreams,
china teacups, rosebud patterned
in the dustpan, unredeemed.


© 2009 Danielle White


Details | Free verse | |

Untwisted

Sometimes the memories won’t fade 
         All the places we have seen
         All the prices we have paid 
The memories of the happy as well as the sad 
            The people we’ve lost
           The friends that we had 
Some memories just seem like a ghost 
I always lost everyone that I loved the most 
The wind would just carry them away 
             Along with my tears 
            And my ability to pray
    I wonder how far is heaven from here?
              How many more heartaches 
                 How many more tears 
              I wonder how far it is away
Because I have so many things that I wish to say 
To all the people that I loved and I lost 
             I’m not even tripping 
             My heart paid the cost 
The reaper rode the river in a bikers disguise 
I’ll never forget the fear in my mother’s eyes 
    As he drug her under and then let her go 
Through my four year old veins hate started to grow 
My eyes were blind my ears were deaf 
After that I forgot  
           There was anything left  
Karma is like poker for it is bound to luck 
When I was just a boy 
God through me under the truck 
Of all the things in life we feel 
   We are all bound to God’s will 
Passion is a doorway between love and hate 
    God is the dealer in the game of fate 
              Our place is not to question why 
                       For if we do our faith will die 
            The deeper we hate the deeper we love 
            I was gifted wisdom by the Lord above 
                    Every gift comes at a price 
A world of experience behind my advice 
     Every smile holds a lifetime of pain 
Nothing that happens should happen in vein 
                         It is our choice that which we do 
 Know in your heart these words are true 
The harder we fall the further we climb 
             No ones life is totally sublime 
Illusion after illusion will be offered to you 
                 But only the living word is true 
The living word that beats in your heart 
Will keep you safe as the world falls apart 
Through the pain of a boy watching his mother die 
It’s never to late to kiss the sky
A man of faith who could never give up 
Please come break my bread and share in my cup 
By the time our journey is through 
                      I’ll share all I am with you 
          Hopefully somewhere in my words you’ll see 
              ---Untwisted is truly the way to be---



Details | Acrostic | |

Abigail

Fleeting And With Vague Reference To Memory, Her Vision

Ruptures and Blurs: All The Lines Seamlessly Creasing 

Onto One And Other. The Air Tastes So Much Sweeter When

Machines Pump the Air In And Out For You.


                                - Don't Even Have To Remember To Breathe -


Tedium Enslaves The Mindset, and Causes The Irrational To

Hemorrhage Fourth, Displacing Any Emotional Grounding, And

Eradicating Any Sense of a Self Obtained Freedom


                                  - Sleep My Sweet... Sleep -


Twisted Metal Splayed Across The Concrete, The Haunting

Horrific Sound of Sparks Generated By The Rapid Deceleration.

Only The Front Seats Remained Intact As The Frames Crumpled 

Under The Tremendous Pressure. The Dread Comes Before The

Gripping Fear, The Acknowledgement of Impact Forces The 

Hands To Curl Up Into Fists and Squeezes The Sweat from 

Tightening Palms. Time Rushes To a Stop, and The High Pitched

Screams, Become Disturbingly Deep Rumbles.


                                     - It Hit The Back Harder -


Onset Bewilderment as a Result of the Fear. She Moves Her Hand

From The Bed, and Touches The Skin On Her Dads Wrist.


                                      - He Stokes Her Hand Gently With His Thumb -


"Abigail" He Whispers, His Cheeks Stained With The Inevitability.


                                       - His Hope For Her Had Withered  -


Destiny is The Harshest Mediator of Time and Regret,

Yet It Presented Her With No Answers. She Struggles

Intricately For The Reasoning of The Event,

Never Fully Understanding Where She Was 

Going, And Why She Was Going Alone.


                                        - Her Words Stifled By Mucus -


Caressing Her Head and Stroking Her Hair,

He Let The Warm Liquid Stream Down His Face.

It Made Snail Silver Lines When Reflected

Light Shimmered Through It. He Held Tight,

Delicately Supporting Her Neck.


                                         -  And Laying Her Down -

                                                         - He Kisses Her Forehead -

                                                                       - "Goodbye My Sweet" -


Details | Free verse | |

In Her Fathers Arms

The evening star glowing in a dust choked sky. A girl stands by a window, with a tear in her eye. She stares at the scene, hardly visible through the grime. She whispers in the wind, “Bring my Dad home this time” She opens the window, and climbs outside, Having a flashlight, in her hand, as her guide. Its glow shows the sides of the street. She’s afraid for what the light will meet Bodies piled everywhere she turns, She wants to go home, and never return. What brought this fate upon her town? All her emotions are stripped and torn down. A frightening sound explodes in her ear. Shadows in the road now appear. She run and hides behind a broken wall Praying to god the rest doesn’t fall. Footsteps coming closer to her She can’t tell who because it’s all a blur She backs away further so not to be seen in light, Quieting her heart pounding from fright. Gun shots and screams fill the air, All these sounds, her ears couldn’t bear. A slight whimper slips from her lips, And over the broken stone she trips. The shadows run closer, showering her heart with fear, She wishes they would just disappear. They pass by her; she fills with delight, She just wants to see her dad tonight. She shines the light, to show her place, And to the shine comes a familiar face. She doesn’t understand who’s to blame Because on the tag shows her father’s name. She holds in her tears and refrains from crying. She falls to the ground where her dad was lying. She lifts his arm and buries her face in his chest. She closes her eyes wanting to forget the rest. The shadows emerge yet she doesn’t see, How close the end for her would be. They look down at her, aim, shoot, and fire. Being with her dad is her only desire. The night had ended causing a little girl harm But she took her last breath, in her father’s arms.


Details | Lyric | |

Normal To Me

This isn't just a poem This isn't just another emotion This is me, these are my thoughts The Imagery is my sight, And The Allegories are my Life I'm lonely, There is just me But there's so many people around but no one can hear my loudest screams Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me I'm torn, I'm Cut Part of my heart stabbed, and then taken from me The Search for my innocence, Is like a moa hunt Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Laughing and Jokes all directed towards me Just to Hurt me Cover all of the Halls "Fag, Emo, Queer" Words I too often know Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Curling her hair putting on her makeup "You're worthless and nothing to Me" Says the so-called all-loving-one As she screams: "Why am I not Pretty" Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me This is not just a poem not just some words my pen cries with each words But this is Just a Glimpse Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me


Details | Rhyme | |

Only God Can Answer

When I was very young, 
Dad and I would fly my kite.
So one day I finally asked him, 
"how does God make wind and light?"
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there!"
I nodded, then played a while.
When we first turned sixteen, 
my best friend got a brand new car.
We had plans for Friday night, 
but Wednesday, she didn't get far.
I cried when I hung up the phone, 
"Daddy! Why my best friend?"
He came and sat down on my bed, 
as we talked about the end. 
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there."
Then I laid and cried a while.
Further down the road, 
I stood dressed up in white.
The night that I'd been waiting for, 
I'd found my Mr. Right!
I asked, "Daddy why am I so blessed?
I seem to have it all!
When some just have no luck, 
they don't have much at all."
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there."
Then he walked me down the aisle.
Then thirty years flew by.
Two jobs, Dad's cancer, and my baby.
and Daddy's time grew shorter, 
and every day became a maybe. 
Then sadly the Dr. said "its time to say goodbye "
and by his bed I stood.
I just couldn't believe it, 
that he'd be gone for good.
"Daddy why do you have to go?"
I asked him as I sobbed.
I knew it was his time, 
but still, my heart felt robbed. 
"I'll ask him when I get there..."
he told me with a smile.
"If I even care! I'll meet Jesus in a while!
I know you think that this will hurt you, 
but these days are grains of sand, 
and heaven is the Ocean!
We'll be together once again."


Details | Free verse | |

Alive

And we are left here Like maggots—dirty, parentless…devastated Always feeding on the gruel…the cruel Fattening our lives in the moneyless bilk Shocking like a bee sting, yet soft as silk We are the forgotten I am watching the others grow rotten But I am cleansed and raw with glee Because…though blinded with slime…I SEE… I rise to the sound of the agonizing screams Of rapes, murders, of violent fists…weeping minds My definition of true finds… I smile when any possible hope arrives Fate laughs, knowing I constantly scream inside I am amused of it all…I can’t stop laughing As bitter tears began to fall I HATE ALL OF YOU… I WANT TO KILL YOU ALL… But I love that I can take anything From the nothing we have all been labeled The sick, the low…the mentally unstable Watch me roll up in a ball A naughty tease to death’s lull I love your silence… I love your intense fall And we are more alive than any of you We are crazed by your belligerence Aching to be emotionless SHARE YOUR INDIFFERENCE SHARE IT… Give us something to be left with So the others can die As Fate veers its head looking in the mirror Listen to her laughter—do you hear her? She watches and waits To find her maggots have grown wings… Screw your selfish indifference...we fall to fly We are more alive than any of you Though quickly we die


Details | Free verse | |

A stifled cry

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A tiny life swiped in seconds as 
gods creation is rendered a 
mere cluster of cells. 
Returned back to heaven 
hoping the return policy 
wouldn't deny. 
It was a mistake; a stifled cry

A lifetime of progress, 
innovation, and memories down 
the drain.
The notorious "what if" 
squashed with plan b; no hopes 
of a future. 
A stifled cry 

She could have cured cancer or 
delivered world peace. 
She could've fed the hungry 
and housed the poor. 
She could've been a Honors 
Harvard medical school 
graduate and your pride and 
joy.
None are the magical christmas 
mornings, first days of school, 
or birthdays. 
Terminated are the memorable 
first steps and momentous  
coos calling for "mamma". 
No more possibilities. Now a 
stifled cry. 

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A moment of carelessness and 
selfishness translates into a life 
lost. 
Permanent. 
Sent back into the arms of god. 
An easy way out. A stifled cry.


Details | Narrative | |

BY DEFAULT for adult contest

We stepped out of the car, my father and I,
on that shattering day, under a dark springtime sky
Like the end of the world,  the whole world was gray
while the dawn, took our hope, sucking all the air away

For, even my tears, had nowhere to land 
Frozen thick in my throat, like the dry desert sand 
If just one would escape, how could they stop?   ...no shoulder, ...no dam? 


My Dad was in shock, as he stood  by the gate, 
         a glaze in his eyes, ......    and a million years old

My feet froze in place, my knees shivered cold
but without hesitation, I grabbed hold of his hand

I took him inside, and with deliberate intrusion
I fed him some soup, and put him to bed
He was the child, and I the adult
Day after day, somehow by default
our roles were reversed, ...and I became strong
My childhood had ended,.....and his had begun



_______________________________________________________
4/23/15 
Submitted and Inspired by the contest "The True Meaning of being an Adult"
Sponsor: FJ Thomas


Details | Quatrain | |

Silhouettes on the Stage 1953




Lying still on the class room floor,
brown paper for a bottom sheet.
All the children were gathered round
and my outline was complete.

A cookie cutter girl was I
in bright black paten leather shoes;
with a gathered skirt, puffy blouse
of blue polka dotty hues.

Drawn silhouette, a paper doll,
not ashen as deaths cold harrow,
and I regret, my parents get
left Hiroshima's shadows.

Eight years gone the Rising Sun
was challenged in an earthy sky;
for bombs Little Boy and Fat Man fell
and two-hundred thousand people died

The Man of Steel, old Stalin
passed away in Russia this year;
the hot cold war was in full bloom
and our children hid in fear.

Beneath our desk tops we scrambled
as the shrill sirens shrieked away
the Committee of Five ruled Russia
and Khrushchev was on his way.

Dwight Ike was in the White House
as a veteran, he'd fought hard
the GI bill was now in affect
and bomb shelters filled our yards.

And little girls with ringlet curls
still made dollies on paper sheets;
while the doll shadows left by WWII
bombs blackened in Japan's streets.

*On August 6, 1945, the United States used a massive, atomic weapon against Hiroshima, Japan. This atomic bomb, the equivalent of 20,000 tons of TNT, flattened the city, killing tens of thousands of civilians. While Japan was still trying to comprehend this devastation three days later, the United States struck again, this time, on Nagasaki. Nagasaki was bombed on August 9, 1945 only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima. And we worry that other countries may develope atomic bombs???


Details | Rhyme | |

Entwinement

Bleeding around me are empty faces
Sad, drooping spaces, crumpled places
Melancholy for the light of new places
Stuck in time, frozen in time
The pangs of lonesome fill their sagging hearts
Frowning forever, frowning forever
Let me stare blankly at the stained wall
Nothing at all…nothing at all

The mind is a scary place 
The mind is a distraction
From the reality ever binding
Curbing every reaction
The mind is overwhelming
The mind is oh so sad
When we turn to larvae and graves
It’s an never-ending...
Entwinement 

Found myself looking through the tiny hole in the wall
Watching you fall, watching you fall
Scared for the neck that would break us all
You shuddered my blood…shuddered my blood
I met the eyes of the souls of your feet
Twitching and swinging…unfeeling…unfeeling
Please allow me this sole ease:
Just be with me... lie with me

The mind is a scary place 
The mind is a distraction
From the reality ever binding
Curbing every reaction
The mind is overwhelming
The mind is oh so sad
When we turn to larvae and graves
It’s an everlasting...
Entwinement

-inspired by Mad World by Gary Jules-
-also inspired by the stop motion film: The Man in the Lower-Left hand Corner of the Photograph-


Details | Free verse | |

Die alone and born again

The man with the plastic bug in his head
monopolized my dreams last night
in the place that the horsefly of my dignity
finally surrender to the impresario without a fight.

Seven days and 7 hours transplanted in my memorabilia
reminding the rustiness of the purple child
flatterers danced beneath the clouds of melancholy
and morality spreader the master plan inside my mind.

The disinheritance of my immortality the final day
discouraged my desire to see the forbidden love
restored my will to escape
manipulated the deep of the uncertainty above.

Released from the plastic bug in my head
try to cover my yellow child in the purple sky
laughing,singing,whispering,playing
seven days and seven hours before he dies.