Memories Poems

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.
...

War is never over
Thought the treaties may be signed
The memories of the battles
Are forever in our minds
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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
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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,
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THERE is grey in your hair.
Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath
When you are passing;
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Mellow meadows, shimmering in summers heat,
dipping down the valley,
rolling down the steep
hillside.
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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.
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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
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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;
...

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.
...

Lovely shaped seashells
That are cone and nautilus
On the wide seaside
Like pieces of memories
...

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,
...

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

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,
...

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.
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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
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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
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I remember Grandpa…when our family gathered at his house…as our joy and laughter filled the air…we would always find him smiling…sitting in his favorite chair.

I remember how he'd smile…listening to new stories…or stories we retold…when I was young I figured that's what Grandpas do when Grandpas get that old.
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Relation between memories and loneliness is very strange.
Both are hand in hand always in life while alive

If there were no memories what would have happened to loneliness. Both are always co-traveler in life while alive
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