Childhoods Poems | Examples

- In Mamas Arms -

                                        Old soundtracks,
                                         fairy memories
                                       With some trill ...
                                                     laughter rang
                                    Twilight rose's evening kiss
                                      ... through the childhoods eyes

The Garden Between

Between the Heart and Soul, 
   lies a garden... 
       the Garden of Awareness:
   each flower, is a memory 
   each fragrance, an inspiration
   each path, is a part of life's road 
   each stream, a refreshing time 
   each pond, moments of reflection 
   each swing, childhoods wonderment and joy
   each tree, rooted in our beliefs 
   each stone, times of hardship 
   each bird, a remembered song 
   each butterfly, a renewing 
   each breath we take, is a Blessing 
   each beam of light, is our light 
   each touching by the wind... 
                  a kiss from God. 


_______

Colonisation 07-02-2025

We all started life a sheath of blank pages
Able to be shaped into anything.
Paper aeroplanes, an artist’s canvas, a library book.
Our parents determine what kind of paper we are
-Cardstock, coloured tissue or plain white sheets.
As we grow, our friends, our families, our teachers 
Etch the ink into us,
Page by page, letter by letter
Building up our childhoods.

We felt everyone knew better than us,
(and perhaps they did)
So, we obeyed, listened and absorbed everything
-morals, actions, behaviours-
Until attentiveness turned into reticence,
Til compliance became blind trust.
We trusted everyone by our sides, trusted what they said,
What they told us to do.
Until we realised we shouldn’t.

Nobody had ever showed us 
The callous hands that tore instead of turned,
Ripping out our pages for their own.
Nobody showed us what it felt like
To have your story stolen,
To feel oneself drown beneath another’s ink.
Now I have just one question
How do I rewrite what was burned?

Mourn not till the embers fade 25-05-24

Mourn not till the embers fade,
Till the blasphemous time forces us on our way.
Mourn not what is dying
But treasure instead what it created.
Listen to how the gulls cry;
They don’t mourn for our passing.
The littering fragments we left behind 
Will continue to rise and fall with the wind,
Dance and rejoice in the ringing bells.
Exhale.
Feel the tender breeze soften around us
Like falling feathers and marshmallows.
May our muddied footprints be forever plastered onto the path,
A deposit of completed childhoods.
How long ago were we last showered in gold or mahogany?
Last felt the tendrils of snow melting on our hands?
We could’ve never known that that was it.
The final time.
The final pen stroke on our final essay.
Overhead a helicopter cuts nonchalantly through the air,
Oblivious to the smouldering fires beneath
But till the embers fade to ash,
Memories will rejuvenate the flames.

Polite

The biggest surprise in the suburbs,
Where I helped out on Halloween night,
Wasn’t focused on candy or costumes,
But the kids, who were just so polite!

Whether solo or part of a gaggle,
Dressed as witches or pirates or queens,
They approached in a calm, measured manner,
While their parents looked on, dressed in jeans.

“Trick or treat!” they exclaimed, sporting smiles,
As I offered the candy-filled bowl.
When I told them, “Take two,” they said “Thank you!”
As if being polite was the goal.

No one pushed or took more than was offered;
All were patient and many did shout,
“Have a great Halloween!” as they parted,
Not a one with a sneer or a pout.

It was wonderful watching this happen -
Just a night filled with nothing but fun.
The true magic will be if politeness
Stays alive when their childhoods are done.

erasing bad memories

some survivors attempt to annihilate their tragic past
squelching their worst memories
slaying glimpses of hurt as fiercely as they can
eradicating smells and sights that remind them of their abuse
others cannot recall their childhoods at all
having successfully erased it from their memories
so they can tolerate their life

Childhoods End

No child left behind 
Was the chant at one time
Now kids in school
Dodge bullets and youth
Is filled with less sunshine

Immunity

     I hope the Supreme Court grants me immunity.
     For the times I chased my brother around the room,
     Or when the crayons erupted across the wall,
     The time I ate all the treats.

     Maybe I can appeal my mom's conviction,
     And they'll reverse her decision.
     I won't have to stand in a corner at all!

     Better for me to know in advance.
     Will my immunity last,
     During my childhoods advance? 

     I can plan ahead.
     No matter what my parents say!
     To make chaos,
     Make it last all day!

     Come on Supreme Court,
     What do you say?
     Can I have my way?

Winter Magic

Childhoods defended with the snowball,
God's annual medium preserved
the young artist's angel fall,
but man had to make himself served.

The grass still green in January
and the bush is still with berry.

Professor Hinkle's global plans
in all and what to engineer
the sleight of billions of hands
that has made you disappear.

Appalachian Homecoming

You were born here,
Blue Ridge foothills,
spirits of Cherokee in 
Appalachia's olden heart and veins.
Scots-Irish influence of beloved
bluegrass,
moonshine of the drinking kind.

Your parents weren't the responsible
type,
as you and your three sisters spent
your childhoods in foster care and were
once left with your mother's cruel friend
for two years,
you went through so much.
Your single grandmother Robbie
did the best she could,
a beautician on her feet all day.
Her white farmhouse with no
indoor bathroom,
and an outhouse in the yard.
She fried okra better than anyone,
grew an acre of tobacco.

You were living in Texas,
joined the Navy at nineteen,
and it became your home.
We met within its ranks,
survivors of child abuse.
We wed, weren't wealthy.
We raised our daughter after
returning to your hometown.
You walked her down the aisle,
and treasured our son-in-law,
and grandchildren too.

You passed at the age of
fifty-nine,
interred by a gentle stream
in the Veterans Cemetery,
where someday I'll also be.
Appalachian Homecoming,
as banjos and dulcimers play softly. ~

Navigation

We navigate our childhoods
With our parents at the wheel,
Smooth sailing for the lucky ones;
For others, an ordeal.

Along the way, we learn and grow,
Absorbing what we see,
Then choosing what we’ll keep or toss,
Deciding who we’ll be.

At some point we can steer ourselves
And once we take control,
Our moms and dads no longer play,
For us, a starring role.

It’s strange that all that effort,
Which is parenthood’s intent,
May yield outcomes unexpected,
Not requiring consent.

Nymph

Like a nymph walking through the woods, 
She glides soundlessly through the trees, 
Remembering their lost childhoods, 

She lifts her face to feel the breeze, 
And soft leaves crunch under her feet;
She glides soundlessly through the trees, 

Her head moves in tune with the tweet, 
Obscuring her tears as they fall, 
And soft leaves crunch under her feet, 

Around her heart, she's built a wall, 
Which crumbles here amidst the leaves, 
Obscuring her tears as they fall, 

Her soul heavy, their deaths she grieves, 
In silence, mourning for their love, 
Which crumbles here amidst the leaves, 

She knows they're watching from above, 
Like a nymph walking through the woods, 
In silence, mourning for their love, 
Remembering their lost childhoods.

A Promise

A promise is something we all believed in as a child.
Maybe your mother promised you that candy you saw.
Maybe you dad promised you that new toy.
But sometimes promises aren't always fulfilled.

Everytime a promise is broken, you believe less and less.
Soon you end up not believing at all.
What once was a hope and dream will become nothing at all.

The pinky promises that you once thrived on.
Becoming nothing but a thought.
Once a joyful kid now a hopeless teen.
All because a broken promise. 

So think about those broken promises.
Think about the effects they had.
Imagine the childhoods you've ended.
Because an empty promise.

Childhoods

Come on strong child
with forced happiness
all you can try to do 
is be a pee green insect,
vestiges of grass
betray a once forlong child
All your dreams are rustled in the wind
as the old man opens the gates
of despondency
Do you wish to hold the key
to being sixty
and those around you are now dust
as you are assured of your youthful angst

When Angels Die

How many angels in Heavens realm abide
do they age do they die do they forever survive
do they on earth spy hear the despair cry
do they lust after humans of beauty
do they trust and faithfully keep their duty

When all angels together sing do they bring forth the spring
Hallelujah to God Almighty creations King
Angels live to praise the One Supreme
To carry His commands to all living things
To how many worlds His tidings they bring

Are angels born and have childhoods
Are teen angles always behaved and good
Are adult angles promoted for task and skill
Are they judge for doing bad or well
Are they created to do the job they fulfill

Do angels have souls like human beings
Do angels have desires and dreams
Do angels sin and can they be redeemed
Do angels have bad days when they cry wail and scream
Do angels pray for each other amongst all things

When angels die where would they go
When from Paradise itself death would deposed
When angels die do other angels even know
When angels die can they too be reborn
Can angels reclaim Glory for which humans yearn.

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