Short Childhoods Poems
Short Childhoods Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Childhoods by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Childhoods by length and keyword.
Sandcastles remind
me of all my childhoods beach days
with buckets and spades
building the biggest and best kind.
No child left behind
Was the chant at one time
Now kids in school
Dodge bullets and youth
Is filled with less sunshine
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?
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!
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
Form:
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.
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 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.
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
Old soundtracks,
fairy memories
With some trill ...
laughter rang
Twilight rose's evening kiss
... through the childhoods eyes
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
Form:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
We celebrate holidays,
Or we do not,
For personal reasons.
(That’s all that we’ve got.)
To some, it’s religion
That drives them to pray,
While others like following
Customs that they
Have observed since their childhoods.
For me, that’s the case
And certain traditions
I like to embrace.
To honor connections
With those in the past,
I’ll light special candles;
Tomorrow, I’ll fast.
The only true lesson
To me, on this eve,
Is it’s nobody’s business
What we each believe.