Memory Poems

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily
...

Every old man I see
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.
...

After the funeral, mule praises, brays,
Windshake of sailshaped ears, muffle-toed tap
Tap happily of one peg in the thick
Grave's foot, blinds down the lids, the teeth in black,
...

When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,
...

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was--
...

A pen--to register; a key--
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
...

My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.
...

I

In Casterbridge there stood a noble pile,
Wrought with pilaster, bay, and balustrade
...

Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
Softly along the dim way to your room,
And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
And holiness about you as you slept.
...

What beck'ning ghost, along the moon-light shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
'Tis she!--but why that bleeding bosom gor'd,
Why dimly gleams the visionary sword?
...

Very strange is the relation between memory and loneliness
Both are inter-related and inseparable while alive in life

Had there been no memory what would have happened to loneliness
...

I love swimming in the lake of my memories…closing my eyes and diving in headfirst…and bringing with me to the surface…memories submersed.

Take yesterday for instance…I dove in on a whim…and ended up, of all places, where memories of our granddaughter swim.
...

RELATION WITH MEMORY

The things we forget becomes theproperty of memory
Relation between memory and lonelinessis very deep
...

Her first memory of her father…though she doesn't know the year
was when he tucked her into bed one night and whispered ‘I love you' in her ear.

From then it didn't matter if he read her a Fairy Tale or helped her wipe away a tear
...

Have you ever wondered once a memory is made if anyone really knows
where that memory ends up…where that memory goes?

Does it flow into our brain?Is that where memories start?
...

A reminder changes your brain.
Every brain should have a mind that may need a reminder.
The memory washes, rinses, and dries your brain.
Imagery from it typically reveals an exaggeration of your past experience.
...

If only heaven and earth were closer
If only it's next door to door that closer to me
If only human have wings like an angel
flying above the clear sky and near us with
...

A memory from deep recesses of my mind crept
Meandering, probing, seething
In deep shafts of wrath swept
From crevices where the memory for too long held prisoner wept
...

A memory is just what you are,
You are someone from My past.

Someone who I used to know very well
...