Children's Rhymes

By what sends the white kids I ain't sent: I know I can't be President. What don't bug them white kids sure bugs me: We know everybody ain't free.

Snow

Walking through a field with my little brother Seth I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow. For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground. He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer. Then we were on the roof of the lake.

The Victims

When Mother divorced you, we were glad. She took it and took it in silence, all those years and then kicked you out, suddenly, and her kids loved it. Then you were fired, and we grinned inside, the way people grinned when Nixon's helicopter lifted off the South Lawn for the last time. We were tickled to think of your office taken away, your secretaries taken away, your lunches with three double bourbons,

Happiness (Reconsidered)

Happiness Is a clean bill of health from the doctor, And the kids shouldn't move back home for more than a year, And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre, in a lawsuit or in traction. Happiness Is falling asleep without Valium, And having two breasts to put in my brassiere,

Crowded Tub

There are too many kids in this tub There are too many elbows to scrub I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine There are too many kids in this tub.

Why Am I Not Good Enough?

1. Take a shower you don't want to smell. 2. Pick out an outfit that will blend in with the latest trends and won't make you a laughing stock of the school more than you already are 3. Put on some makeup so you can't even recognize yourself and your face tingles with an unbelievable issue. You can't satisfy otherwise you'll have ruined the hours of meticulous painting you apply to your face. 4. Don't forget to style your hair in elegant curls. You can't let everyone at school see how your hair frizzes up.

My English Sucks …..[english ('poor') : Almost Medium Length; Education And Life; Ph- Inspired]

When I were schooled english wernt my thing. My scores in English lurning no bells done ring. Yea I grajaded but ain't english smart ….no lie! Come end a school year the teach said 'By Bri.' Was same in bilogy, math, jografy all that stuff. I done did my best and guess my best were enough. I did done grate at ball games and in trak run the mile. I was a THREEletter man and made them girls smile.

Children Of The Street

In their faces a colourless gaping of life's adversity: the hopeless grief of a hellish existence; Malnourished, starving, filth and olfactory horrors; Their humiliating nothingness clothed in rags; Usually barefooted with low self-esteem; Begging, and rummaging through garbage for thrown-away foods to assuage pangs of hunger; Oftentimes feeling cold that comes from being sickly; Sleeping or indulging in cheap cocktails of toxic sedatives at the dark corners of the street:

Jest 'Fore Christmas

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! Mighty glad I ain't a girl - ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake - Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache! 'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat;

Gee, You're So Beautiful That It's Starting To Rain

Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty to be taught in high school, so kids will learn that God lives like music in the skin and sounds like a sunshine harpsicord. I want high school report cards to look like this: Playing with Gentle Glass Things A

For Selma

In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York... In places like Chicago and New York Kids say, In places like London and Paris...

Rock 'N' Roll Band

If we were a rock 'n' roll band, We'd travel all over the land. We'd play and we'd sing and wear spangly things. If we were a rock 'n' roll band. If we were a rock 'n' roll band, And we were up there on the stand, The people would here us and love us and cheer us. Hurray for that rock 'n' roll band. If we were a rock 'n' roll band, Then we'd have a million fans.

Humility

Snow, falling thick and white, along the village street, People struggling through the drifts, their shopping to complete, Kids dragging sledges, excitement fills their minds, Rolling a giant snowball, great, cos this is snow that binds. Trees looking decorated up, with icicles that glint, Branches weighed down with snow, which holds a golden tint, That bright red sun that's setting, way out towards the west, A wonderful rich vision, ordered at our Lord's behest.

Butterflies Around

Painted with natural brush, Butterflies around plants and bush I run after them to catch live, Kids insisting for catch not one but five, Stayed almost with colourful life, Spacious bungalow with beautiful wife, Lavish parties with friends around, Joy and happiness always found,

Seasons Of Life

How like the seasons is our life, We face the sunshine, storms and strife; As seasons come, so they must go, We are enjoined within that flow. In spring we start our journey new, When flowers bloom and skies are blue; The trees are budding, birds will sing, With youth in bloom, it's always spring.

*did You Pay To Them To Click On You? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

My home based on love, patients honesty, and sincerity, made my whole slowly, slowly as snail reach my goal your name made by cheating tomorrow soon it will fall, within an hour you will reach by your army you will be on top of all, poetry kids killedby you click and click shot, and shot with no rule

The Soldier Fights

the soldier fights for the hippys rights to protest against that soldier the soldier fights for the politions rights to send that soldier to war the soldier fights for buisness mans rights to make money the soldier fights for the policemans rights to arrest that soldier the soldier fights for school kids right to know about past soldiers the soldier fights to so that you may all sleep at night the soldier fights for religion so that you may all belive what you wish And yet the soldier fights on the soldier fights for his flag, for his country, for his life

Turnabout

Have eyed dire a life packed with storms. Wildly, money whisked in air-vast sums, Pains my home with intense heart drums. All but tears, my wife flooding alone. To my kids, I’m of tramp-trash tone. Love to light them ought to be shown. To discard not my heart-dear ones, Must stamp a stop to gambling runs,

' A Grown-Up Child

A poet is a grown-up child, anyhow, He couldn’t compose, otherwise… A poet is an adorer of queerness, A bit - willful, a bit - precise… “Hunting is a game of chance, ” We’ve forgotten that well-known phrase, And we must remember that kids Are forbidden to play such games.

~ Mom By Default Rape ~

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? NOTE: I'm sorry to say today I find PH like before [as in case of 'I Want To Be Raped'] again banned this poem as I find it is not in my poetry list...so I've made some typographical change and reposted it and some comments already posted by Hon'ble Readers I'm posting here ~ niv ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?