Nostalgia Poem by M.J. Lemon

The title caught my eye. Nostalgia is something none of us can do away with. The questions that appear are so true. Most nostalgic poems have moments to carry us through. But the questions you ask sets our mind to think. I loved the last question which is an answer in itself. .Why look so much forward To the past?

If not for nostalgia, life would be rather bland. Don't you think so, M.J.? My poetic response: Lessons Learned Delve into the past Retrieve the memories The good and less-than-good Hold them to loving heart

Some memories will linger in us for ever.... the sweet ones......we remember with nostalgia and the painful ones.... we want to erase from our memory for ever. However the past keeps resurrecting in us giving us pain and nostalgia in turn! Thus we often look backwards to! A great write!

You just asked some very difficult questions, M.J. Personally I would love to flush away bad memories and let the good memories perch on my shoulders and chirp happiness into my heart and soul. But what would I learn from the bad experiences in life if they are flushed? Can we wisely create a better world if we do not have those memories both good and bad nudging us here and there? But then again, are we just repeating the past if we recall it so often and by doing so short-change the present? Dang it, M.J., now you've got me contemplating both sides of the worth of nostalgia- - but oh how much pleasure I get from riding those horses again who are long gone and far away and reliving the adventures of my brave and foolish youth.... sigh, now I am waxing nostalgic when I should be busy making new memories that one day I will be waxing over.... An extraordinary poem extraordinarily well-written, my friend. 10

well, reading previous comments i've left, i see i've come a long ways with this poem over several months! ==================================================== but, i really didn't remember reading this before tonight! ! ! senility? ? ? =================================================== my latest effort at a comment: “What about those times your mind raced At the speed of sound but the body couldn't move around, Weighed down, as if lumber or the slumber of rotting meat? Surely, that was defeat? ” ……………nice! yes, it sure SOUNDS like “defeat”! ! defeated meat! nice ‘internal rhyme’ I’ll call it ……….meat/defeat. you ask this QUESTION: “If all is so right with every single moment, Why look so much forward*** To the past? ” one ANSWER could be that: THE FOLLOWING IS NOT [I say NOT! ] TRUE: “All that has happened is so good that it deserves the memory, ” so, we humans find that MORE than one present “..single moment..” is NOT SO GRAND, AND REMEMBERING THE GOOD PARTS OF OUR PAST GIVES US SOLACE AT TIMES. BRI :) p.s. *** depending on the definition of “look forward to”, doesn’t it seem strange to talk of looking “forward” to “the past”?

let me try again. ;) Weighed down, as if lumber or the slumber of rotting meat? Surely, that was defeat? ...... ............. i think i know the feeling, but LUCKILY it is only when i'm in bed, after a good nitght's sleep, and i have nothing i 'have to get up for'........except the call of nature..........so lie still enjoying the moment. it happens rarely and it is a nice feeling. warm too. but you are probably not talking about all that. ....rotting meat.... nice choice of words! i plod along one day at a time. there are rare moments of nostalgia. the day a male classmate in second grade (age about 7) kissed the girl i had a crush on, but i never said anything to either one...........until i told her about my crush................10 years later. the time i followed a bear (twice) into the woods when i was a Boy Scout at a camp in New Mexico. the time i had my tonsils removed and had ice cream afterwards. the time i fooled around with an unhappy married woman; she was not married to me! the time i was new on PH. an interesting write. oh! i said that in my first comment. NOW to put this into my/our October a showcase for PH poets on my poem page. thanks. bri :) Thankkkkkkkkkkksssssssss for the memorieeeeeeeeeesssssssss, as Bob Hope would sing.