Childhood Poems
#childhood
Poems about childhood memories. A range of happy and painful recollections of childhood, upbringing and family, on the journey from birth to adolescence.
rainwriter
Poem Published
18th Mar 2023 12:17pm
18th Mar 2023 12:17pm
Hey Dad.
Hey Dad
I‘m getting five today
And I know that you gonna be there
And I know we‘ll have some fun today
So see you soon when you get here
I love you
Hey Dad
My 10th birthday was cool
Was different with you not being there
I hope we can celebrate soon
We still got some cake to share
I got new toys!
Can we play with them?
I know we‘ll have fun
Tell me, when will you come again?
In how many months?
I miss you
Hey Dad!
Where’s your fucking face?
You send a present, huh?
And you send a...
I‘m getting five today
And I know that you gonna be there
And I know we‘ll have some fun today
So see you soon when you get here
I love you
Hey Dad
My 10th birthday was cool
Was different with you not being there
I hope we can celebrate soon
We still got some cake to share
I got new toys!
Can we play with them?
I know we‘ll have fun
Tell me, when will you come again?
In how many months?
I miss you
Hey Dad!
Where’s your fucking face?
You send a present, huh?
And you send a...
#anger
#father
#childhood
#family
#disappointment
60 reads
1 Comment
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
17th Mar 2023 3:25pm
17th Mar 2023 3:25pm
prelapsarian
my mother told me
that once when she
had taken acid, long ago,
a little tab
with a grinning Cheshire cat
on it (or is that just my own flourish?),
she looked and saw
on the far horizon
beyond the pier as the sun was setting
a line of Disney characters dancing,
Mickey and Minnie, Donald and Pluto,
and it occurs to me: even the tempo
of our dreams, unguarded by the niceties,
are taken up with little cartoon entities
removing us from what
comes after innocence
that once when she
had taken acid, long ago,
a little tab
with a grinning Cheshire cat
on it (or is that just my own flourish?),
she looked and saw
on the far horizon
beyond the pier as the sun was setting
a line of Disney characters dancing,
Mickey and Minnie, Donald and Pluto,
and it occurs to me: even the tempo
of our dreams, unguarded by the niceties,
are taken up with little cartoon entities
removing us from what
comes after innocence
#mother
#childhood
#LifeStruggles #drugs
#LifeStruggles #drugs
51 reads
2 Comments
copingwithwords__
Poem Published
16th Mar 2023 8:20pm
16th Mar 2023 8:20pm
a child in her heart
i pick my skin until i bleed,
scratch and rip it apart
every bit of dark disappears when we meet
but till then the dark is my whole, not just a part.
one second i’m at my best.
next i am at my worst.
just tired, can’t get any rest
from my mind, as if i am cursed.
but really, i’m just weak
a child that didn‘t learn how to soothe herself
with a heart where emotions just leak
and a mind that shuts down because of her heart and itself.
life goes on, and i function every day
where i get the chance i laugh...
scratch and rip it apart
every bit of dark disappears when we meet
but till then the dark is my whole, not just a part.
one second i’m at my best.
next i am at my worst.
just tired, can’t get any rest
from my mind, as if i am cursed.
but really, i’m just weak
a child that didn‘t learn how to soothe herself
with a heart where emotions just leak
and a mind that shuts down because of her heart and itself.
life goes on, and i function every day
where i get the chance i laugh...
#depression
#childhood
#SelfHarm #MentalHealth
#SelfHarm #MentalHealth
57 reads
0 Comments
jemac
Poem Published
16th Mar 2023 4:29pm
16th Mar 2023 4:29pm
I wish we could play here fourever
getting lost
in the imagination
vivid
child's play
everything is larger
than life
we hide from zombies
we have the most
powerful behind us
utilizing their abilities
to save ourselves
Sonic
whose speed is unmatched
we fly
leap
take down anything
in our path
remotely evil
scary
teddy bear
becomes a basketball
recliner
place to jump to new heights
for that dunk
earning us one hundred
million points
if we do it just so
he always...
in the imagination
vivid
child's play
everything is larger
than life
we hide from zombies
we have the most
powerful behind us
utilizing their abilities
to save ourselves
Sonic
whose speed is unmatched
we fly
leap
take down anything
in our path
remotely evil
scary
teddy bear
becomes a basketball
recliner
place to jump to new heights
for that dunk
earning us one hundred
million points
if we do it just so
he always...
#childhood
#LifeAsAWriter
84 reads
6 Comments
Maple666
Poem Published
16th Mar 2023 1:24pm
16th Mar 2023 1:24pm
A woman and her flat .
We are all a bit strange, with rough edges
that we wish we could shave off . All feel a
bit lost and lonely amongst the vitality of living. On the outside we’re great a display cabinet of the finest China used only on special occasions . On the inside we are on
The make ducking and diving to meagrely surviving. Anxiousness steps up and acts as a guardian to make sure we’re not second guessing each other on the back drop of bravado. We just don’t seem to be able to
Communicate . It’s not how you feel it’s what you look like with quick let’s take a selfie and filter the...
that we wish we could shave off . All feel a
bit lost and lonely amongst the vitality of living. On the outside we’re great a display cabinet of the finest China used only on special occasions . On the inside we are on
The make ducking and diving to meagrely surviving. Anxiousness steps up and acts as a guardian to make sure we’re not second guessing each other on the back drop of bravado. We just don’t seem to be able to
Communicate . It’s not how you feel it’s what you look like with quick let’s take a selfie and filter the...
#childhood
#death
#LifeCycle
#aging
#LookingForLove
38 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
8th Mar 2023 2:21am
8th Mar 2023 2:21am
pyre
#love
#childhood
#abuse #LGBT
#abuse #LGBT
41 reads
2 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
5th Mar 2023 11:05am
5th Mar 2023 11:05am
pizzini snd Broremann
Pizzini and Broremann
He used to carry a tiny notebook fitted for his pocket
writing down what he saw on his daily walks in the woods
and also writing rare words in newspapers when sat
in the café by the lake.
Leaves on trees, green grass fledglings trying to fly
many had success others drowned in tiny rainwater pools
life has the habit of crushing us; when we do our best
to be loyal to family and friends.
He once had a sister, generous and kind, who called him
Broremann (little man) because he was a serious child
living in a...
He used to carry a tiny notebook fitted for his pocket
writing down what he saw on his daily walks in the woods
and also writing rare words in newspapers when sat
in the café by the lake.
Leaves on trees, green grass fledglings trying to fly
many had success others drowned in tiny rainwater pools
life has the habit of crushing us; when we do our best
to be loyal to family and friends.
He once had a sister, generous and kind, who called him
Broremann (little man) because he was a serious child
living in a...
#brother
#children
#childhood
#family
#daughter
50 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
1st Mar 2023 9:11pm
1st Mar 2023 9:11pm
Father to the Man
I knew a lad whose bones would always cry.
He came to school with aching limbs,
in constant pain. The winter sun would soon espy
his battered arms and legs and turn them like
a bully might, hoping to make his victim cry.
The lad’s own dad had tenderised his bones.
I wish the story ended well (the stranger said
to me), but not all boys get happy endings.
(He laughed as if at some crude gag that danced
beyond my grasp.) What happened then, I asked.
He downed his pint. He soon became a man, he said,
and settled somewhere north of here...
He came to school with aching limbs,
in constant pain. The winter sun would soon espy
his battered arms and legs and turn them like
a bully might, hoping to make his victim cry.
The lad’s own dad had tenderised his bones.
I wish the story ended well (the stranger said
to me), but not all boys get happy endings.
(He laughed as if at some crude gag that danced
beyond my grasp.) What happened then, I asked.
He downed his pint. He soon became a man, he said,
and settled somewhere north of here...
#childhood
#abuse
#masculinity #fatherhood
#masculinity #fatherhood
71 reads
3 Comments
PAR
Poem Published
28th Feb 2023 7:42pm
28th Feb 2023 7:42pm
Wicca!
My babuska was a witch
and she always said that
naughty boys became rabbits.
Which would dig tunnels to hell
and hide the chocolate eggs
during Easter at the orders of the devil.
My babuska was very badly behaved
and she wrapped chocolates in gold paper
that boys looked for in the circles of hell.
My babuska was very rich in stories
and punishments and curses to frighten.
In addition, she made delicious cookies.
Shaped like rabbits, shaped like boys
shaped like brooms... covered in chocolate.
My...
and she always said that
naughty boys became rabbits.
Which would dig tunnels to hell
and hide the chocolate eggs
during Easter at the orders of the devil.
My babuska was very badly behaved
and she wrapped chocolates in gold paper
that boys looked for in the circles of hell.
My babuska was very rich in stories
and punishments and curses to frighten.
In addition, she made delicious cookies.
Shaped like rabbits, shaped like boys
shaped like brooms... covered in chocolate.
My...
#childhood
#Easter
#memories
#myself
#witches
69 reads
11 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
25th Feb 2023 2:07am
25th Feb 2023 2:07am
Had They Been Loved
The porous human dignities
bewail boys and girls who never bathed
in waterfalls when they were young
and just as pocked with pores.
Love does not always heal the flesh.
It grows it when, applied to babes,
it makes them just about ready
to brave the endless woods.
And so we sometimes glimpse,
or if unlucky feel, the warped
and shrivelled heart cry out
in acts of cruelty, some small,
some large. And wonder if
a mother’s breasts might just
have soothed the tender beast
now bent on making all men sore.
A...
bewail boys and girls who never bathed
in waterfalls when they were young
and just as pocked with pores.
Love does not always heal the flesh.
It grows it when, applied to babes,
it makes them just about ready
to brave the endless woods.
And so we sometimes glimpse,
or if unlucky feel, the warped
and shrivelled heart cry out
in acts of cruelty, some small,
some large. And wonder if
a mother’s breasts might just
have soothed the tender beast
now bent on making all men sore.
A...
#love
#childhood
#abuse #LifeStruggles
#abuse #LifeStruggles
74 reads
3 Comments
Maple666
Poem Published
25th Feb 2023 1:29am
25th Feb 2023 1:29am
Memories
Memories,
Hang like window dressing
Etched by indelible ink
But I think they beguile
Being sometimes overgenerous
Prodigiously persuasive
Inextricably impressionistic
This window dressing is an improvisational work of art
For one can edit , improve, reassemble
At whim in the present day ,
One subconsciously ameliorates ,
Add in embellishments ,
Subtract spoliation
Ah , now my window dressing is a
Resplendent display ,
A Ornate memorial
A nostalgic fabrication
Accessories added here and there ...
Hang like window dressing
Etched by indelible ink
But I think they beguile
Being sometimes overgenerous
Prodigiously persuasive
Inextricably impressionistic
This window dressing is an improvisational work of art
For one can edit , improve, reassemble
At whim in the present day ,
One subconsciously ameliorates ,
Add in embellishments ,
Subtract spoliation
Ah , now my window dressing is a
Resplendent display ,
A Ornate memorial
A nostalgic fabrication
Accessories added here and there ...
#motherhood
#childhood
#humankind
#aging
#nostalgia
40 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
24th Feb 2023 11:29am
24th Feb 2023 11:29am
washboard waltz
Washboard Waltz
Is a washboard musical when scrubbing socks on its metal ribbons?
The woman in the basement was not aware of anything other
than the soap suds, steamed-up windows and the sense of hopelessness
when working on a Saturday, a day of rest from the factory floor.
Other women, too, did laundry day, gave her a feeling of pride
to see her washing on the line was cleaner than theirs.
She sat by the window in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the washing
smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee from a mug with her name
and wondered if...
Is a washboard musical when scrubbing socks on its metal ribbons?
The woman in the basement was not aware of anything other
than the soap suds, steamed-up windows and the sense of hopelessness
when working on a Saturday, a day of rest from the factory floor.
Other women, too, did laundry day, gave her a feeling of pride
to see her washing on the line was cleaner than theirs.
She sat by the window in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the washing
smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee from a mug with her name
and wondered if...
#brother
#childhood
#family #daughter
#family #daughter
37 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Childhood Poems
