37 posts
  • ckfilvan 9w

    #myth #folkmyth

    Read more on #folkmyth

    A tale of a flying lizard

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    The ballads of Uleng

    Uleng! Uleng! Do you know my state?
    My parents eat on silver plates;
    Uleng! Uleng! Underneath the eaves
    My hungry hands above plantain leaves.

    He left home when he was still young,
    Weeping he entered the Mystic Jungle;
    None heard the tears and griefs he'd sung,
    Not even Leng--until he was old and rumpled.

    There wailed a plaintive song all the way
    From where, at night, tree tops spangled;
    Then Old Leng put off his work one day
    Recalled his friend lost in the Mystic Jungle.

    Uleng! Uleng! Do you know my state?
    My parents eat on silver plates;
    Uleng! Uleng! Underneath the eaves
    While I eat my meals on plantain leaves.

  • ckfilvan 16w

    Please, remove your shoes,
    Put it on the rack and
    Pull the door quietly.
    Prowl like a hungry cat
    Pacing like shadow;
    Pull a chair beside me - Shh! Let's
    Play this game before mama comes.

    Where does the sun sleep?
    Way beyond the horizon
    Where the city sits upside down.
    Wait, you mean like the ceiling fan?
    Why, of course, this strange
    World has rivers and seas hanging
    Where the stars spin crazy dreams.

  • ckfilvan 20w

    #alliteration 0213108 #wod #ceesreposts #soulraabta #julietscorner @miraquill

    Dedicated to @blooming_fossil

    You can skip if you're not fond of children or their poems.
    But if you are, you can tap here

    Too young for #pod
    but (I guess) mature for elementary school students

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    The breeze bends the bushes,
    The cattle chew their cud,
    And dragonflies are no dragons;
    They couldn't care less
    The count and his cosmic castle.

    They robe in robes - the red,
    And also the blue and the black;
    They scan and skim the surfaces
    Of lazy logs and lovely lakes
    And couldn't care less
    About dragons and dying dwarfs.

  • ckfilvan 23w

    021,0308 @miraquill #ceesreposts #soulraabta #julietscorner

    Read more #childrenz

    Esther is not just your neighbor. You just might be Esther too.

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    Knowing Esther

    Esther knows her neighbors well,
    Their histories and private affairs;
    Who’s fighting who, she can tell
    And hear what’s going on upstairs.

    She speaks of the lone neighbor:
    They ought to question this witch.
    And she abhors the young bachelor
    Whom this witch has bewitched.

    She tells me a bit this morning,
    She’ll tell you some next evening;
    I’m sure you’ll learn more of Esther,
    Less of the witch and the bachelor.

  • ckfilvan 24w

    #sail #ceesreposts #wod #miraquill #soulraabta
    Tap here #childrenz

    For you @nikitabinigoswami @the_frozenn_heart @blooming_fossil

    10 words each (as per challenge)
    Brevity is the soul of wit. They said.

    It hurts in a funny way when you read eight poems of mine in ten seconds. You beat me not only in reading, but in breathing too. What a damn loser am I!

    A special thanks to you. Seems like the rain finally falls after long period of drought. And it feels sweeter and the petrichor more aromatic.
    Deeply touched by your love and benevolent gesture @writersnetwork

    Humbled by your love and kindness. Sharing my joy with you @blooming_fossil

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    Sail away

    Clouds sail away
    Like flags of holidays
    And evening goobyes.

    Friendship sails away
    With white handkerchief
    Never soaked in grief.

    Chivalry sails away
    To ferry dead warriors
    With burning arrows.

  • ckfilvan 24w

    #onomatopoeia #iwritethisforyou #ceesreposts
    #I'm not interested in your advertisements

    #To those who tag me but never read even a comma of my work
    I wonder how you remember my name without reading my work. I remember Keats or Shakespeare because I read.

    WN thinks I'm not that attractive �� or at least my lexicons are not brilliant.

    If you love children poems, tap here #childrenz

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    Kids and rain

    Tick tock runs the clock
    Waiting for no lazy bones,
    Hush, hush screams the rock
    And thinks of some mute tones

    Cold wind sneezes a whoosh
    As raindrops plop on pools;
    And you can't tell who's whose -
    As kids slam and break the rules.

    Pitter-patter dances all 'round
    The rain shameless and naked;
    Boys whiz along, make splashy sound,
    Girls slosh barefoot, their skirts lifted.

  • ckfilvan 24w

    0211707 #julietscorner #ceesreposts

    Specially for you @heartsease @blooming_fossil @fatty_07 @manisha_rameshbabu

    If you like children poems
    Read here #childrenz

    Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.
    Lemony Snicket

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    Read a book

    Read a book before you sleep
    You’ll have lovely dreams;
    Read again when morning peeps
    And write to mend the broken seams.

    Think of a poem or a lovely tale
    Be it a lost ship or a bad dragon;
    Draw you sword and cut his tail,
    Cook and serve it to a wicked king.

    It may be cold, it may be hot,
    But read a book before you sleep.
    Read much about the Lamb of God,
    Thank Him when the morning peeps.

  • ckfilvan 26w


    To read more, tap here #childrenz #julietscorner #ceesreposts

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    The tail's tale

    They vow to stay
    Together ever, they say,
    In sorrows and in joy,
    In sickness and in health.
    In poverty and in wealth.

    Comes a test, tough and hard,
    And this is what it entails -
    One becomes a lizard;
    The other its tail.

    Thus comes a tale no one tells;
    An infamous tale
    Called 'The Lizard and Its Tail'.

  • ckfilvan 27w

    @writersnetwork #julietscorner #yamini #ceesreposts #wod
    Read more on #childrenz

    SET A:

    SET B:
    Why are rainbows rare?
    What is the color of hope?

    Hope this satisfies my niece Hazel. I'm not as funny as Lemony Snicket, Shel Silverstein or Roald Dahl.

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    Hazel's questionnaires

    Tell me, papa, if you care
    Why are rainbows rare?
    Because rain and sun
    Aren't the best of friends;
    They hate to stand
    In the same spotlight
    And share the same sky
    Before the moon and stars
    Come to rule the night.

    But when they do have 'consensus'
    Which also means an agreement,
    You see the bow, though broken often
    Awaiting your next question:
    What is the color of hope?

  • ckfilvan 28w

    Dearest Childhood,
    One someone my age might find absurd and imbecile my writing this note to you. But I've always known you as someone who understands childhood better than anyone.

    I've always wanted to write to you. And today, don't mistake me for one who is in his dotage or a poor old wretch who is back to reading fairytales. But i write this to you to tell you how this so called adult is unable to express his childhood... I miss you.

    Adults talk of politics, and bringing paradise on earth or building city on Mars; but when it comes to dragons, catapult, princess in the tower, or something like Jesus and The Pearly Gates, they discard as if 'childhood' and 'supernatural' are obsolete terms not found in the modern dictionaries.

    Don't resent me for being an adult; I can't help becoming. Yet I tell you this: When we adults talk, I have to bring myself down to their plane, to their level, and talk about numbers and certain numbers growing in the banks and numbers of buildings skyrocketing. Unlike children, some shiny smooth pebbles from a brook don't bring even a fleeting moment of happiness to adults. Dear me! They are such a bore. You can't tell them why some leaves are going to the city of death, or why porcupines carry so many arrows on their backs, or even worse - how porcupines get pregnant by just staring at each other. You can't tell them anything real interesting whatsoever.

    They seek themselves; not friends to love. They begin their fake pleasantries with the letter 'I' or sometimes with the objective case 'me'. They openly confess how they love themselves, while we children bring our old shoes for elves to build their homes.

    But I won't be telling you much for now.

    Yet again, I say I always carry you in my heart and cradle you in my fond memories. And that someday when I come back to you, a survivor of Bermuda of adulthood, do not treat me as one who'd ran away and now come back as a lonely wretch old enough to love childhood again. Rather be merciful and kind to give me a place as you would a child when I come back to you in my old age to hold and drink from the cup of childhood again with my shaky hands.

    With love from
    an Adult
    who carries you


  • ckfilvan 30w

    @writersnetwork #character #humorous

    For similar poems, tap here #childrenz

    Take time to laugh

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    Penga And The Whistle

    Bright was the sun, light was the air,
    Fun in the lea made the day so fair;
    Songbirds played their lyre,
    Workmen doused their fire;
    And to a certain whistling man came
    Penga the rotten, Penga the sodden.

    Never in his life had Penga heard
    A whistle whistled so sweet
    In such a season with such tweet;
    He learnt and when to his tongue came
    The art of whistling, first to the thistle
    Penga the rotten did whistle.

    Then in the green fields, to the blue hills,
    To the seductive breeze,
    And to the mystic waterfall.
    Whistling unceasingly to all
    He strode homewards gaily
    'Til a stumble shook off his whistle.

    He looked everywhere but couldn't find it;
    In the crevices he peeped,
    In the thickets he rummaged,
    But nowhere could he find it;
    For our mate Penga the sodden
    Remembered not what he had lost.

    Visage sketched in shadowy hue,
    Sat Penga in the vicinity he thought he knew
    Till a passerby who walked past whistled;
    Lo, Penga roared, “Gimme back, you coward!”
    He knocked him down, and gamboled homeward
    Whistling, whistling all through the lovely wood.

  • ckfilvan 30w


    As a medical employee I hardly get time to reply to your comments. I am sorry.
    I couldn't read your works as well, dear poets.

    Tap here to read more #childrenz

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    When noses run and feet smell

    Said Little Jona, "My daddy says:
    Gentleman mustn't have nose that runs."

    "So says my pop too," cried Little Rama,
    "Gentleman mustn't have feet that smell."

    "I hate the doctor, his sister too."
    "His telefunscope, and thermo-mother too."

    "Give my nose your feet that smells,
    And put his thermo-mother at bay."

    "Blow on my feet your nose that runs,
    And send the doctor and his sister away."

  • ckfilvan 31w

    Little Darius

    Little Darius is not the King
    Who couldn't sleep a wink;
    For his servant, a man from Zion,
    Spent the night with hungry lions.

    Little Darius knows no danger,
    He fears none that scares his mother;
    Fire's amusing, a snake some old string--
    That his father sleeps on a broken swing.

    Little Darius is now fifteen
    When boys love doing daring things;
    Hungry tombs call with honey lips
    And Darius' father never sleeps.

    Now the boy's just crossed nineteen
    His sister is now daddy's little queen;
    She says her college starts next summer,
    This robs Darius of his sweet slumber.

  • ckfilvan 31w

    #haiku #multiverse @writersnetwork

    Tap here to read more #childrenz

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    A town in the sky,
    A moon among bright laltens,
    A fairytale night.

  • ckfilvan 31w


    As a medical servant, I couldn't manage to reply you in time. Nor have I time to read and compliment on your works.
    Yet again, I thank you for remembering me and showering your love on me.
    Stay safe.

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    The dove and the ant

    My lovely darl, my gentle dove,
    Are you still sulking up above?
    Why don't you leave your bower
    And observe the carefree flowers.

    Dear little ant, my faithful friend,
    With all my flaws plain and hidden
    My sorrow seems to have no end --
    Can self love break open this prison?

    Why learn what you already know,
    Butterflies know where roses grow;
    Self love is a hungry unsatisfied tomb,
    Loving others alone can kill such cocoon.

    Months passed, but not my joy for a day,
    I see roses dance for butterflies gay,
    What a lesson--I take a step, you take two,
    Now with all my heart, li'l friend, I thank you.

  • ckfilvan 37w

    #fable @writersnetwork

    Let not the teapot judge the kettle too early.

    If you love children poetry, tap here for more #childrenz

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    The Teapot And The Kettle

    Says the young teapot to the kettle,
    ‘You are as black as an ugly beetle,
    While I am as fair as our lovely maiden
    Who reads and drinks in her garden.’

    A wise reply to this young teapot,
    ‘I brew the tea so sweet and hot—
    To freshen the lovely maiden up
    While you chit-chat with the cups.'

  • ckfilvan 37w

    Tap here for more #childrenz
    19,1009 #rainbow #mirakee

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    The Man and the Rainbow

    A man once befriended a rainbow
    Following days of incessant rain,
    Surprised and pleased him in his low
    As it glimmered upon the old plain.

    It told him how whenever it appears
    The rain retires and showers no more;
    Then they'd go crabbing, make good cheer,
    And eat their catch by the shore.

    The rainbow looked handsome in his cloak
    Each passing day the man's envy grew severe;
    So the man stole it, and their friendship broke
    And ripped the goodness of the mellow year,

    The rainbow cursed, the man hid in fear:
    "You forfeit your fingers if you ever draw near --
    You shall have colors only through pain."
    But God took pity and clothed 'em again.

  • ckfilvan 119w

    Penga, The Fool

    Penga, the cunning known for his folly,
    Whose tales make a child's boring day jolly;
    On his right shouldered home his load,
    He spun round to switch sides, and strode
    Back to the market-- such was Penga's folly.

  • ckfilvan 120w

    Froggy went to school

    Croaky Froggy, a simple fool
    Sent to gain wisdom at school;
    Albeit cool in his green uniform
    He acted jumpy in the bus.

    He croaked a song in the class,
    Vexed the teacher by breaking rules
    Who kicked him out of the school
    And Froggy landed in a blessed pool.

  • ckfilvan 122w

    Little mice

    Little mice, little mice,
    Are you frightened of my cat,
    When you all look so nice
    She won't take you bad.
    So put on your best suits
    And meet my cat--a real beaut.