Best Childish Poems
I don't want a flimsy daisy chain love
one the slightest breeze will sever apart
Their blooms are as pure as a turtle dove
I won't play childish games with my heart
Plucking flower petals, I would never do
for he either loves me, or he loves me not
Cupid drew his little bow and an arrow flew
He missed but I consider it a warning shot
Love is seldom simple. I'm aware of that
Unless built on honesty, it will surely fail
The man I will love must wear a white hat
not some scoundrel who carries a tall tale
The truth in matters will someday be told
So I'll not pluck daisies and strip them bare
One day my heart will discover and enfold
the hero searching for me, his own lady fair
July 7th, 2017
*Thank you, Marti Sutherland, for writing in tandem with me.
** Devotion Poem, VANTAGE POINTS **
(For Jim. #17 in Devotion Poem Series)
“I’m not a romantic,”
you announced at the very beginning
With a side-flick of your hand
As if you might then stand
To exit…taking along your trail
Of cool colors — the blues and greens —
Too unwilling for any startling
By my sun yellows, tangerine oranges
Or my bleeding reds,
To disturb your eyes.
But committed to staying, you added,
“I’ve never been able to wink either,”
demonstrating that disability as if
To say, “At you, I would if I could.”
Hypotheses and proofs, have
always linked
In your engineer’s character,
While crayons and ongoing arrows
spread out through mine,
Which, like our colors,
I thought were complimentary,
But now it appears you
might have thought
were just me being childish
And not about any inspired creativity,
from the other side of the brain, so
Alien to the light-green violets
On your side of the color wheel:
Where the palette of intelligence
has formulae —
Not unpredictable outbursts
Or random integers of emotion.
Once, you held me like the first
Glimpsing of a winking Venus
in the dusk
Presenting to all
Her prelude of heaven’s lights
To continue on through the night…
But now, paddling deep in
an ocean of years,
I fear that you find me
Like a flicking bedside candle
Meddling in your wish to sleep…
While some galaxies
in my cosmos
Have darkened
With my own self-depreciation
and decline
So like
Those stars
and dreams that have gone aging.
But inside,
My sun’s risings and settings
Still glow blessed
With vibrant, surging color…
Wishing to be held by
your morning’s horizon-blue eyes.
———————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 3/22
Thanks be to God
Instead of listing what’s wrong with the world
Let’s list what we could do to make it strong
Childishly simple is the integrity on which we set our pride
Is it so hard not to lie, steal, cheat, defile with words
That simply are not right?
Treat others like you would want to be treated
We preach to our children
Unadorned ideas that we cannot follow ourselves
At times it seems
As humans progress, from child to adolescent
To adult, then back again
It’s a reversal in time
From complete innocence to corruptness
Why does it take us a whole lifetime
To come back to the mentality
In which we started
It’s only once we see, truly
The best times is when
We don’t judge
And things are just so
Childishly simple
That we are happy
Wow, it turns out Trump was right.
I saw it on “the Onion” - posted overnight.
Scientists woke up today and the virus
was simply gone - the miracle - has happened.
And they said that Trump was wrong!
The once dying - started laughing
first responders broke into song
patients shrugged off ventilators
they can go back home where they belong.
That God has been so merciful
is a story ripped from scripture
and since Trump - the antichrist - is here
we can move on to the rapture!
I am the ultimate fabricated furious me
Hiding my weathered, worn, wonderful sides
Pulling out the slow downs, hoe downs and stops
Dropping myself cleverly into convenience paths
Of newness and wise women truths
I am readily unafraid to reveal my whole self to others
Insane? Of course, I am, in many directions.
But in the ways that matter, I am quintessentially sane.
Normal? What is that? I scoff and throw back my head.
Do not tamper my enthusiasm and exuberance.
I am childlike, not childish. The guidelines I give myself are used often.
I am full of wonder and joy. Don’t let my physical appearance fool you.
Over over over and over,
Again then again then again,
No more shall we play this childish game,
Around around around and around,
No more then no more then no more,
Again we must play this childish game.
Miss Velociraptor knew she was scary,
she’d be rich if for each scream she had a penny.
She tried her best not to growl,
not to chase, beat or foul,
but not for long could she stick with any.
Mr T-Rex wanted a mate,
old now, he worried it was too late.
But his hands were so small,
he could never pick up the phone to call,
the dino he fancied to ask for a date.
Mrs Pterodactyl loved soaring in the sky,
knowing the dinosaurs below wished they too could fly.
Getting close to the sun,
sizzling like a hot cross bun,
merrily flapping her wings as she swooshed by.
Master Diplodocus disliked his enormous feet,
no animal with paws larger he ever did meet.
He even tried nail polish
to make his toes look less trollish,
whilst still crushing tiny creatures in the street.
Mummy and Daddy Iguanodon tried to evade,
whilst placing their youngest in some cooling shade,
that summer’s terrible heat,
which was rotting all their hunted meat,
their patience in the warmth just starting to fade.
Baby Allosaurus would not go to sleep,
all night long he continued to roar, dig and leap.
But when babysitter Plesiosaur
told him she was a very hungry carnivore,
no sound was then heard, not one peep.
Put away childish things
yet keep the childlike wonder.
Though dreams be rent asunder
our wishes still have wings.
Put away childish speech
but not the constant queries
that question rooted theories
which reason cannot reach.
Put away childish ken,
though artless ways of seeing
in any age of being
will find a poet’s pen.
Put away childish thought
yet not imagination
which sparks our inspiration
beyond what we are taught.
Put away childish things
but follow deepest desires.
Those secret innermost fires
burn brighter as hope sings.
Put away childish whim
yet not delight in playing,
then when the world’s dismaying,
our days won’t seem so grim.
Put away childish fears.
Nonetheless, through thick and thin
hang on to the child within,
the laughter and the tears,
all the livelong years…
Put away childish things.
While our dusty death is nigh,
the utter self shall not die,
and karmic kismet clings.
Put away childish things,
though then in mirror darkly
we face our image starkly,
plus suffer destined slings.
Put away childish pain
yet not sensations tender
for sunset’s golden splendor
or soothing thrum of rain,
therein the simple joys remain…
Nor questing spirit ever lose,
while on the pathway that we choose,
neither from love refrain
which makes a heaven of earth’s domain.
Still, throughout, with faith unshaken,
seek enlightenment to waken,
thus the bliss supreme to gain,
plus not to live and die in vain…
Put away childish things
but hold to yearning youthful
to grasp the learning truthful
which timeless wisdom brings.
Put away childish things,
and embrace the peerless state
of illumined grace innate
wherefrom great fortune springs!
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
The following well-known quotation provided the initial literary inspiration for the poem…
“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, darkly, but then face to face.”
1 Corinthians 13 ~ The New King James Version (NKJV) translation of the Bible
Further inspiration derived from the teachings and writings of Nichiren Daishonin, as well as Martin Bradley’s interpretative writings about them…
When I was a child I lacked so many things
And I thought growing up would remedy them
That love would come on sweet angel wings
And I suddenly rich would rule a great realm
But must of all that I would not walk barefoot
Or drink again that milk-less tea of insipid bush
There would be a safe place my dreams to put
And mother would not derogate the skin of Cush.
Days flash before me, like lightning in the sky
Another being exits my life, another one comes by
Childish innocence, foolishness and breaking friendships
They all seem unaffected, then why wasn’t I?
Life so continued, the corner seat, a quiet little child
Lost in space, thoughts running wild
Who are these people around me? Why do they matter?
Known as the child who never spoke, strange thoughts piled
Am I really the child my parents desire?
Cornered, I was, fleeing under the wire
Is silence really the best answer,
When it isn’t the answer these goons require?
Chuckling and laughing while watching me strive
Broken bones and broken child, the result we derive
What did I do to make their hatred thrive?
Do I bother people just by being alive?
Why are people like me born?
What purpose do we serve?
What is a man’s value measured by?
How does one calculate his worth?
“Don’t act like you’re the victim!”
How is it my fault, as they all say
When I never asked to be born in this world,
And I never asked to be treated this way?
Why do they think I’m twisted?
receiving pitiful glances as I walk by,
How do they still not understand?
It’s the demon inside that wants me gone, not I.
If childhood is the best part of one’s life, why do I spend most of my nights crying?
Are they so blind, when I say “I’m okay,” they never assume I’m lying?
Cherry blossoms fall, losing life, leaves are drying
It’s strange how people think autumn is so beautiful yet everything is dying.
The dog gave a bark
When the cat did a fart
As it woke him from his sleep
Then the cat screeched meaoow
To the sight of the cow
Who'd just done a big brown heap
The smell was atrocious
Was he trying to dose us
The horse in his paddock thought
Then the sheep gave a baaaa
As the whiff travelled far
A lesson in poo you've been taught
I scribbled quickly
As they wrote their final exam
Little notes of appreciation
A special individualized message
Thanking each student
For having been in my class
And for bringing me joy
Reminding each one
Of the potential that lies within
For each is a remarkable individual
A personalized message
Of encouragement
And a shared Bible verse
Psalm 37: 4
This was a special class
Made up of pastors
A journalist
An architect
Adults from different walks of life
Some married
Others single
Some shy
Others bold
All wanting to become
Better writers
What an amazing group
My French came in handy
With my students from Algeria
How I loved their French accent
As they tried to pronounce
The bothersome words in English
Leaving a never ending smile on my lips
After they spent an hour writing
I made them pause
To have home baked brownies
I’d made from scratch
Along with a soft drink
A time to relax…
Refreshed
They continued on their essays
And I decorated each note
With stickers
“Great Work”
“Way to Go”
“Excellent”
“You are a Star”
And for the women
Lots of hearts!
I love hearts
They decorate my office
Pillows
Key rings
Earrings
And now
My little notes
Which came straight from my heart
Each one got to exchange the finished essay
For a handwritten note from the teacher
I said with a sheepish grin
“These stickers are not because you are a child….
But…because I am!
I am a child at heart!"
That brought smiles
And a hug from
The journalist from Brazil
“I’m going to cry,” she said.
As she gave me a bear hug
My heart sang
They had learned to love writing
What greater joy could be mine?
The Brazilian journalist
Met me in church last Sabbath,
Gave me another warm hug and said,
“Teacher, thank you for the note
You inspired me to do my best.”
And what she couldn’t articulate well
Sparkled in her eyes
And danced in her hand motions
Silly little stickers
Simple little words
A whole lot of love
Love for my students
EVERYONE needs some encouragement
Everyone needs to know
That inside the heart resides
A wealth of beauty longing to be expressed
A piece of the soul that longs to live forever
In the written word
I thank God I’m a teacher
After all,
I’m in good company
For, the GREATEST Teacher of all time
Jesus Christ
Is my mentor!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
....useless undertakings....
...my best efforts were shot down...divided...fragmented...
...spirit pulled apart my exertion... dismantling me...
...I guess I was my tries....
....leaving me looking at how I was rejected by the universe...
So now, I no longer crusade for my own campaigns...
...the movement came apart and died.... and with it,
took my drive and the pride of my drive....
...it doesn't matter what my goal was...
...the attempts were my best...
...my all declined, resisted, turned away
when my all was me....
What can I say?
Obviously, my spirit is still broken
and time looms on.... and on and on....
I've grown unsettled not being whole....
....swimming amongst the puzzle pieces
that once held the picture together......
the goal disassembled....a result left in parts....
...and I long to move on, I do!.
...but action was what got me to this point...
...activity walked me onto the path of deconstruction
over and over again....
How can I move on?....
Can I operate without doing?
Can I proceed without process?
How God?
...How?
I know this isn't rational....
....just cause my words get me into trouble
doesn't mean I shouldn't speak...
....but my emotions reason for me....
....and this is how it feels, feeling more real
than breathe... than light.... than now....
these childish impressions leave me sensing
premonitions that dispute function as a problem
...I can't do...doing sends me destruction....
...but love is action...
... there is no other way...
...I need a miracle....
...a shift in perception...
Think what you want about I, a envious thought, can anyone recall when a thought hurt someone?
- Loverboi
To achieve the best results
We need to act like adults
Talking about things we did
And not screaming little kids
Shouting and throwing a tantrum
That seems to be our love anthem
Not hearing a word we say
There has to be another way
To discuss and solve these issues
Our hearts are being so misused
Every time we have a fight
It comes down to we recite
The same debate time and again
It's far to long since we've been
Listening with great intent
It seems we are quite content
This situations on a cycle
Round and round for quite a while
Never stopping always busy
Making both of our heads dizzy
Getting evil and more vicious
This loves no longer delicious
It turned bitter and absurd
Something in both of us stirred
Anger and hatred we see
There's no more ability
To talk and work out what happened
Our love is totally flattened
Stomped out by our stupid pride
And the hurt way deep inside