Short Childhoods Poems

A daddo's desire
memories of your childhoods
my gleam of fatherhood
I "Prophet" your lives alone
Our times Together...

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Here, my arm-
A gaudy orange stain
Where my mark was

An x- my name forgotten
Adorn me
Your mess of thin black lines

Tied quite like a bow
We’ll discuss our childhoods
While we scour my veins

Did you pick your dreams?...

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As I walk the road passing the deepest of woods
     Should I say, "I am strolling alone!"
As I shall feel the silence overtaken.
    But for I'm not complete forsaken,
And the nature bestowing her love as in my childhoods,
There is nothing to be forlorn!...

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A lifetime crossed
A time remembered
At childhoods cost
A soul dismembered
And flesh embossed
As if surrendered
Away he’s tossed
As trash he’s rendered
Abased, his family lost
After, for cash he’s tendered
An autos fuel exhausts
Airfare paid, return to sender...

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At five of the clock an immigrant species from the Raj speaks,

"woort tooo - teee tau", a grey maharajah on our hopper window 

waking us up to another sunny, hot English summer's day we dream about

or have nightmares as is our want; remembering or misremembering our childhoods....

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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.

...

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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...

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Visions come like never before
Stumbling through my head
Like that of a musical note
Floating on the pillows of dreams

Rivers of wishes float down the streams
Washing away the times tick of a tock 
Embracing, laughing, dancing between
Swimming in these pillows of dreams

My childhoods gone 
How has this came to be
Come and went with times spent
Chasing the pillows of dreams...

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The ruddy scudding clouds move the moon’s ménage—
Rustle nests and moon seeds in the dark garage.
They scurry over old tools and gnaw forgotten toys
Of fast receding childhoods of grown-up girls and boys.

Could we but stop time, and bring it to its knees,
We would do things we hoped, and sail distant seas.
But there is no frozen moment in the curling stream—
Life is a hand of water in the fingers of a dream....

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I remember dens and swings,

There weren't any techno things.

Outside playing hide and seek

No pc to give a tweak.

Weekends up the river walking

Not permanently on an iphone talking.

No facebook with a hundred likes

Just charging around on our bikes.

The twitter we knew came from birds,

We didn't text, we spoke real words.

Alas such childhoods are long since gone,

No playing out, just logging on....

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Lolli, Eva and Karen will forever be
My family my sisters three
Each a part of my heart
Together a love that will never depart
We shared childhoods and somehow survived
And in life we live and thrive
They made me a proud uncle seven times
Nieces and nephews help the family bind
They gave me new brothers with their mates
And weather life's storms through faith
They care and love their brother me
No guy could have a better Sisters Three....

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Scars
~~~~~
One for each slap administered by the guardian 
Of my twisted childhoods end 
Another for needing compassion, love and warmth
A deeper one for my open arms and desire to embrace
It's hard to tell, is it a blessing or a curse
That no one cares or can truly see how badly I'm hurt
The scars are all inside; it’s a battle without end 
A coppery taste of the latest is still fresh in my mouth, 
I wonder if the wounds are all that’s left of me....

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Crystal country morning,
a splash of red barn,
just enough for that perfect painting.

A festive fairyland
where satyrs dance among
the wooden-glass spires dotting the land.

Did you catch a glimpse
of the snow fairy
as she whisks from tree-to-tree, like a honeybee.

Just outside of the
human realm lay those moments of childhoods imagination 
inside the magic crystal country.



5-17-2021
ALL YOURS (May 18) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand...

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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....

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