Memories Poems

War is never over
Thought the treaties may be signed
The memories of the battles
Are forever in our minds
...

Distant memories lost in time,
I close my eyes and think of you.
Memories of the way we were,
Glaze my eyes, like morning dew.
...

LIKE this alabaster box whose art
Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart,
Carven with delicate dreams and wrought
With many a subtle and exquisite thought.
...

You said to me that you will be there on that day
but when that day came then you were not there for me
So much love showered and so many promises were made
but nothing worked on my way because you had gone
...

Behind her doors, live a pool of joy.
Whiles smiles cover our face
A mist of confusion
Awaits at our gates
...

A year or two, and grey Euripides,
And Horace and a Lydia or so,
And Euclid and the brush of Angelo,
Darwin on man, Vergilius on bees,
...

THERE is grey in your hair.
Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath
When you are passing;
...

The week after the funeral the house was cleared
Memories taken to the auctioneers to be sold off,
The polished sideboard and dining room table,
The picture frames now empty of smiling faces.
...

Mellow meadows, shimmering in summers heat,
dipping down the valley,
rolling down the steep
hillside.
...

Youth is that fountain....which must one day dry
no matter how much one may try
youth does die
but in form of aging skin and balding hair
...

When I am gone, who will come to see
my lifeless form, lying peacefully?

Will it be those who loathed my name,
...

a life is, , ,
...

IN a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix'd house,
It is round, it is only a few inches from one side to the other;
Yet behold, it has room for all the shows of the world, all memories?
Here the tableaus of life, and here the groupings of death;
...

In the falling dusk
the heartbeat of memories
sounds above the panting breath
of invading silence
...

Crawled under the house to retrieve
something's that I had fogotten.
While I took them out, I sorted and found
that most of what I'd stored, was damp and rotten.
...

Walking down the rough streets of life
I am truly all alone,
With hopes of new dreams turning true,
Olden days are long bygone.
...

As a perfume doth remain
In the folds where it hath lain,
So the thought of you, remaining
Deeply folded in my brain,
...

Let me stop here. Let me, too, look at nature awhile.
The brilliant blue of the morning sea, of the cloudless sky,
the yellow shore; all lovely,
all bathed in light.
...

Rain has fallen all the day.
O come among the laden trees:
The leaves lie thick upon the way
Of memories.
...

It is not a word spoken,
Few words are said;
Nor even a look of the eyes
Nor a bend of the head,
...

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

In a quaint little town, where the sun always shone, lived a man named Timothy, who was never alone. A writer by trade, with a heart full of dreams, he wandered the streets, in search of new schemes. But deep in his soul, there lay a dark fear, of memories forgotten, he wished to draw near. For his mind, there lingered a ghost, of times long gone, of memories he lost. One day as he strolled, down memory lane, a vision appeared, like a torrential rain. It was a face he remembered, from long ago, a friend he once loved, but had let go. The memories flooded back, like a raging river, of laughter and tears, of joy and of shiver. Timothy felt lost, in the sea of his past, wondering why these memories would forever last. He sat down to write, with a heavy heart, pouring his soul, into every part. Words flowed like a river, ad memories unfurled, each line a masterpiece, in his own little world. As he wrote, tears fell like rain, each word a balm, to heal his pain. For in these memories, he found a release, a way to make peace, with his past's cease. And as the sun set, on that fateful day, Timothy felt lighter, in every way. For he knew now that memories live on, in the hearts of the living, long after they're gone.
...

high school days were teen challenging
gender mind body personality changing
studies activities expectations demanding
school days become salt time driftwood
...

I still remember your sweet face
The way you looked into my eyes,
You gave me all your love and grace
You were my angel in disguise.
...

Memories to Slay

I remember little now of major things,
At work within the body and the head,
...

Memories whether good/bad are inevitable.
Memories can also be quite pleasurable.
Memories of pain are only durable.
Memories - pain/pleasure, let's make us adaptable.
...

Memories of laughter
Of Joy and belonging
Memories of sorrow
Of pain and grief
...

Memories of summers
Memories of rain
Memories of joy
Memories of pain
...

Memories are stagnant pieces of facts
That lie hidden and forgotten
In your head
Some are fake, some fresh and some ugly
...

The moonlit nights do not let me sleep so the memories of yours tagged with, the reminiscences and memoirs of yours, all viewed with love and remembered all of a sudden. Those moonlit nights do not let me sleep, the memories of yours tagged with and I remembering, remembering you so lovefully, so painfully where those days of memories and reflections slipped by, passed by, O, those moonlit nights!
...

Her memories remind me of
Life giving morning cool breeze

Her memories remind me of
...