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Funny Memory Poems | Funny Poems About Memory

These Funny Memory poems are examples of Funny poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Funny Memory poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

YOU CALL THIS POETRY

You call this poetry
I'm sorry I must confess
Your recent work
Why, it's a complete mess
Your rhymes aren't good
The story's not compelling
Where's this going
There's really no telling
You think it's clever
I don't mean to criticize
But your latest poem
Put a hurting on my eyes
Are you embarrassed
You didn't print your name
But this looks familiar
So I'll guess just the same
What's that you say..
Oh my, can that be true
No wonder I recognized it
The poet's me and not you

Contest: Linda's "A Poem Not Entered Into A Contest #13"
Date: 9-13-14
Poet: Lyric Man


Details | Rhyme | |

Granddads Book

In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.

So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.

That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!

I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.

© Dave Timperley 2012.


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Wind in my Mind

The wind is blowing through my mind
Not gently breezing through.
It ruffles my thoughts and jumbles them
It will take time to file them anew
I like to file my thoughts in order
Of good ones and of bad
Its keeps things on a steady level
And stops one going mad

Happy thoughts are lifted
To the very fore
Memories of when we first met
You were sitting on the floor
The party was a bit of a flop
We left together and walked
And as we got to know each other
We talked and talked and talked

The wind is blowing stronger
The bad times it reminds
We split up for a lifetime
Well it seemed so in our minds
You persevered and asked me out
I decided you were true
My memory of our wedding day
And how happy I was with you

We had a little flat and furnished it with love.
The trouble was we were ground floor
And the water came in from above.

I look back through some memories
All tumbling in the breeze
The hard times the fun and laughter
The winter of the big freeze
We booked a holiday that year
The best time we ever had
I know it scared us half to death because I was so bad.
It’s a pity I missed part of it as to hospital I went
The baby we were having, to be born he seemed hell bent.

The wind is blowing on my head, now I fight with it for real
It’s just ripped off the shed roof, it looks like it’s been peeled
I better shut my memory box and find my hammer and nails
And fight with wind that’s blowing outside and stop my reminiscent gales.



Details | Rhyme | |

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”


Details | Light Poetry | |

Mom's Purse

When you’re the mom you carry the purse,
That’s the natural rule of the universe.

To a mom a purse is more than a bag,
It’s a safety net when the world starts to sag.

The pockets hold things that her family might need,
Like a granola bar with sunflower seed.

There’s a half eaten cookie and a clean pair of socks,
And a tool her grandfather gave her to set cuckoo clocks.

There’s a broken dolly in need of repair,
And a bright orange scrunchie to pull back her hair.

There are aspirins and band-aids and a coupon book,
Redeemable for vacations that never got took.

And way at the bottom is a memory of a girl,
Who would dress so young and gaily twirl.

In those days she carried a purse so small,
A dainty little bag hardly anything at all.

As she takes out the memory and starts to go through it,
She breaks out in a grin because there’s a sucker stuck to it.

She remembers what that girl wanted most for her life,
Was to one day be a mom and a good man’s wife.

Each memory she touches she remembers with pleasure,
And each item she carries becomes a small treasure.

That’s why when you’re the mom you carry the purse,
It’s the natural rule of the universe.


Details | Free verse | |

Self PORTRAIT

I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide

I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight

My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign  
I twirl my hair and make it bend 
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends

As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin

The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions

I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane

Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed

The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair 
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose

I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key

It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore




Details | Free verse | |

Ridiculous Me

Watch this scene with both eyes and try not to blink C: --> 

I stood there... silently
Like a predator near prey 
I sneak behind YOU

You weren't even aware of it!! Ha-ha! 

I made YOU jump hIgH
Like a startled hare
I chuckle and smile

You know that mischievous smile of mine? 

Your reaction was
PRICELESS - you were so upset
But YOU forgave me

Well...I'm flattered. . . 

We laugh'd together (just like the good times)
In a chorus - our volume
Picked up extreme sound

Believe me - I could hear our laughter from a mile away!

But I'm glad I did
My best to make you giggle

Ridiculous me... 
Wouldn't you agree?


Details | Rhyme | |

A Very Early Memory .

My earliest memory was the Mid-Wife
 And her strong , safe forceful grip .
 And Dad's big frown
 In his surgical gown
 Saying "don't let my baby slip .
 Lord ! , he's pink and bald and ugly
 Hey Mom ! , here's your nine month dream
 He's the perfect mix 
 For politics
 'Cause he sure knows how to scream " .
 They all ooh'd and aah'd and choochy cooed
 Saying yeah, he's one in a million
 As I looked in bother
 And asked , hey mother
 So tell me ! , what's a brazilian ? .


Inspired by Danielle White's early memory contest ..


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Rhyme | |

Remember When

The fondest memory of a young boy’s drive,
   Are those things reminding us we are alive,
As when those physics of natural fortitude,
   Rise up to the occasion and start to protrude.

Seemingly the notion is quite  uncontrollable, 
  The mind that takes over is quite consolable,
`T was Love gave us the procreating  urge,
   Assumption is such, why should we not spurge?

As was this friend of mine who’s name was Berg, 
   With every young lady he saw, wanted to spurge,
He did saddled himself with three kids and a wife,
   Which is fine if mature ,but if not ruins one’s life.  

Another fond memory of a young boy alive,
   Is all those hot rod cars that he use to drive,
One of my dearest friends lost his life, where and when?
   High school graduation on Bayou creek bend.

A four in the floor and a fifth under the seat,
   Young boys feel like such a feat is quite neat,
Driving while drunk chancy rich price to pay,
   Same as being too young when one hit’s the hay!

This story has no glory,  though all parts are true,
   Parents seriously need to teach children good pursue,
Apple of God’s eye, tooth for tooth, an eye for an eye,
   We have not mercy,  when it is judgments we cry! 

For Contest: Fondest Memory
In Honor of: Frank Herrera


Details | Ballad | |

Smile Its Your Birthday

it seems like an eternity
since ive seen ur smile
the fact that uve been gone
still has me in deep denial

a lot of stuff has happened
since ur smile left this earth
gatherings, eagles losing, parties
life changes and brooklyns birth

a lot of people miss u greatly
n think about u everyday
our last picture together
on my dresser it will stay

ur deep voice, ur humor, ur kindness
is what i tend to miss the most
ur passing forever broke my heart
but our memories i hold close

i must admit, i did hit rock bottom
drugs n alcohol i used to cope
i took ur passing very hard
i started to give up hope

but i looked into brooklyns eyes
n caught a glimpse of u
u probably would have kicked my ass
sober now i stay true

mom also met a fine fella
u actually would approve
no need to kick this guys ass
hes good to her n the kids to

madison is so smart n beautiful
byron is turning into a handsome man
there both striving so well
u should be a very proud dad

two of ur friends got engaged
there so cute n its exciting news
i hope they live a life of happiness
i know u would feel the same to

ur brother misses u the most
hes coping the best he can
he misses u as much as i do
he was ur biggest fan

ur neighbors n friends
also stop by ur page
reminiscing about the good times
the laughter n good chatter ud engage

thank-god for all the music
its a good way to deal with pain in life
cause without u here with us
its like eating steak without a knife

im over trying to understand
i feel ur in a happier place
you had ur own reasons
your demons u finally faced

but in a couple days
ur birthday we will celebrate
the big thirty seven u turn
teasing u old man woulda been great

your always in our hearts
in our thoughts forever jay
so while ur up in heaven...
smile...cause its ur birthday :)

http://youtu.be/Qy1LXL0606Q


Details | Rhyme | |

Ear Plug

I swallowed an earplug down my left ear and I said to my wife I can't hear and she said we will have to go and see doctor Ofreea Who gave me a prescription for 4 cans of beer which will have to be drunk here in case you feel queer.
So I drank down the beer and I never felt queer 
And doctor Ofraya said the plug in my ear should disappear
But it hadn't so doctor Ofreea gave me another prescription for 12 cans of beer
Which we both drank until it was clear we could be here until mid year
Let's have another look down your ear said doctor Ofreea
And he declared I was right it has now disappeared and i replied 
But doctor Ofreea
your looking down the wrong ear.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Christmas Dinner Memory

Listening to the roosters crow brings thoughts
Memories of when I was very young
There was a rooster who wasn't store-bought
He had strong masculine traits and strong lungs

He would loudly crow, strut, and fight the best
The day he flew at me and tried to spur
Was the day his name became the fowl pest
On Christmas Eve he met his fate_ yes, sir
  
'Pon that fated day he crowed his last crow
His fancy strutt in the pot mom did stir
The feet, the neck, tips of wings she did throw
When those were done, dumplings she did transfer

The meal was done and all sat down to eat
Mom passed the dumplings around and served me
In the dumplings on my plate landed his feet
Laughter around the table showed our esprit


Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Christmas Dinner With Humor
Completed 12/17/12
Minimum 12 lines
Christmas day the rest was boiled and dressing made...
Rhyme


Details | Rhyme | |

One Hunch Of A Tale

My cousin owned a beagle,
A horny ol' dog;
He hunched everything in sight,
Even a hollow log

I looked out on the lawn,
What do you think I'd see?
That peanut-head canine,
Hunchin' on a tree

Hunchin' on a bicycle,
Hunchin' on a car;
Hunchin' on a porcupine,
Oh, what an awful scar!!

I woke up one morning,
Squeaks echoed through my head;
And wouldn't you believe,
He was hunchin' on my bed?!

He never rolled over,
Shake, fetch or beg;
But he could work up a sweat,
On the shin of your leg

One day I had enough,
I called my cousin on the phone;
I shouted loud and clear...
"He's hunchin' on a bone!!"

That's when I realized,
Milk and oil will never mix;
Once again I shouted out...
"Why don't you have him fixed?!!"

My cousin then replied...
"You know that ain't no good!"
"It wouldn't be right,
To take his manhood!"

One day we went fishing,
The sun was facing south;
That silly ol' hound, 
Started hunchin' a cottonmouth!

He took a fatal bite,
The snake struck him again;
Before we blinked an eye,
He bolted in the wind!

Deep within the forest,
Searching frantically;
We found our horny friend, 
As dead as he could be

The moral to this story,
Be kind to your pet;
If you're not a breeder,
Please call your local vet!






 




Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | I do not know? | |

Forgetfulness x-x

Oh no!! I forgot – I had a plate of dessert In the cool freezer Oh no!! Dad forgot – He left his blue bowl of fruit On the clean counter!


Details | Light Poetry | |

Thanks for the memory

In the ancient city of York 
My friends and I have been for a walk
Studying a little Viking history 
Instead of returning to the car
We decided to visit a bar 
That's when a nice American couple ran into me .

Howdy y'all
In his best southern drawl 
Do ya know where we might get somethin nice to eat
There is a restaurant in the bar 
and its really not that far 
Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding would be a treat.

They were in the dinner queue  
When my mate got out his snooker cue
After dinner might our American friend have a game
Of course you can play a frame or two 
We'll be at the table waiting for you
but don't you think we ought to know your names . 

Of course you should he said 
This little lady is Andrea , I am Ed
I'll see ya soon an we'll have a beer
I knew when Andrea shook her head 
He might be going shopping instead
but he whispered '' i'll be staying here''

Well he must have talked her round 
Or a compromise had been found 
Because soon he was telling his tall tales
Ya see American women , He insisted 
Love to have their arms twisted
but if ya show em who is master it never fails.

He began to titter 
Calling him a quitter 
When my mate said he was going to call his wife on the phone 
Just show her who is boss 
She aint never going to get cross
She will know she has to leave you guys alone.

It was then Andrea came in 
Her face as angry as sin 
Ed had promised to meet her half an hour ago
C'mon Ed we teased 
Show us you're the big cheese 
Teach us what us soft British guys out to know.

I have never seen such cowardice in all my life
He was scared stiff of his angry wife 
C'mon Ed pull the other one 
You are no better than us Brits 
You know when to call it quits
but thanks for the memory. It was fun.





Details | Light Poetry | |

Anniversary Memory

On this date I had my first spanking in the days of yore,
The first of many I received not realizing what for. 
This one was very special causing a unique frown ,
because this time they turned me upside down.
Well that should have given me a clue,
That they weren’t about to be through.

There I was hanging by  my feet,
Hungry wet and naked..
looking for something to eat..
Some dude cut a rope off my gut,
then had the nerve to spank my butt.
Yes, the first time I was spanked and didn’t know what I did..
Well that was a fine howdy do….  Welcome to earth kid!


Details | Limerick | |

I know I Possibly Wrote It

There once was a memory man Who remembered all that he can So he wrote in a book Which was gone when he looked Now he's doubting his memory span http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-2.php


Details | Limerick | |

Do You Remember Where You Fell In Love

Took heaven to help me to see
That with her I wanted to be
I first felt love’s glow
And this I still know
We kissed under coconut tree


Details | Couplet | |

Memory Or Lack Of

                  ~ Memory Or lack Of
Memories are so important, but I can’t remember mine,
I knew I had some once, once upon a time.

I go up the stairs and then I turn back, 
Was I going up or down, now I’ve lost track.
.
Where did I put it, that thing, you know what,
Oh blast I’ve forgotten what it was, or was not.
.
I look in the fridge and find my teapot,
So where is the milk, oh I know I’ve forgot.

Do I know you stood there, knocking at my door,
Oh yes you’re my son, I knew I’d seen you before,

Why didn’t you walk in, why do you knock?
Oh I locked up son, I’m sorry I forgot.

What are you doing there six foot three tall,
This morning you left you were really quite small.

Is it you or is it me my memory is shot
Oh now I remember it’s me, I forgot.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Bow Leg-ged Girl

      THE BOW LEG-GED GIRL
I took all of your tank tops and your hose and your sox,
and I put them all together in a little brown box.
I put all of your dresses and your shoes in a sack,
and I wrapped it up because I knew you're never coming back.

I took your funky records and your Gaygirl Magazines
and dropped them in the trash with all your green and purple jeans.
I took the clothes I bundled up and gave them away,
to the Salvation Army, it seems like yesterday.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I met a wino on the street, she looks just like you,
she wears a see through blouse and she walks bow legged, too.
She sings those funky songs and plays the guitar outa sight,
and she takes a bath in cheap perfume like you did every night.

She sings about Viet Nam and love we don't show,
No one's told her Viet Nam was fifty years ago.
She's out protesting every day and carries a big sign,
and bites her toenails every night just like you did mine.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

She has a job but all she'll say, it ain't chopping wood.
And it's funny how her money lasts, and she lives so good.
She bought a brand new car one day, a pink Cadillac,
and it's got a bar up in front and mattress in the back.

I don't know why she thinks she has to work every day,
cause I never had a job I just live on my welfare pay.
She picks her nose and rolls each bugger in a sugar ball,
and just like you used to do, then she eats them all.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I married her in the park, it seems like yesterday,
and I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't run away.
She brought her uncle home with her from work the other night,
and her uncle and my cousin all got drunk and had a fight.

She got locked in the bedroom with the meter readers dad,
and they had a lot of fun all night, but I felt awful bad.
He took her home with him a while, but she wouldn't stay,
I wish you'd come back home to me, and run her away.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Free verse | |

Funny Thing About The Yard

It’s always behind or in front

seems it needs a door to get to

never complains when it rains

pleasantly, pets poop & pee

friends & family cross to hug me

my connect out there

in the back and front

it’s what I have now for all the hard

that stretch out there

the yard


Details | Free verse | |

THE MEMORY OF NUMBER NINE

Got my first bike at nine, its color was red, 
fell off nine times and bled from my legs, 
ma covered my scratches and cuts with nine bandages,
barely nine, I drove my dad's car and crashed,
nine kisses and hugs I gave to beautiful Lucy, 
got whipped more than nine times for playing hooky,  
nine stitches on my head for jumping a fence, 
I had nine glasses of cold milk for breakfast...
nine times I burped and made my classmates laugh!


Details | I do not know? | |

Illegitimi non Carborundum

Illegitimi non carborundum ;-)


...Staggering, my vision cloudy,


I fall to the hard ground.


when life’s sharp left-jab leaves my face bloody,


and all that surrounds me, is the desolation of loss I feel all around.



I see myself slipping,

down the abyss to where nothingness exists,


still, I cling on, groping for a foothold,

for my will to stay persists.



I clamber up, I stand my ground, though battered and bruised I may be,


my curtain is not falling yet, I have some fight still left in me.



It is then, in the pit of despair, when all seems bleak and painful and dull,


I summon the strength from deep within,


I rise, slowly, to face the day,


I refuse to sink,

to wallow, to surrender, to throw in the towel,


to drown,


for I am stronger now,


indeed I am, after all the years, and all the battles,


I stand, bruised and bloody,


still,


I stand,


I refuse, to sink, to drown,


for they can try, to punish me some more,


but I shall not allow them to grind me down…


;-)


Details | Rhyme | |

Seeing The Funny Side - For Dad RIP

My Dad was a funny guy He had a Labrador as a guide You see my dad was blind Yet always saw the funny side Like drinking cups of hot water Instead of cups of tea Because the teabag missed the cup Yes, he did that a time or three We went through many a kettle Mum would get quite hectic He’d put it on the stove to boil Not seeing it was electric I never heard him grumble Never heard a single complaint Even when he painted the shed with water Believing it was paint These things he did are true But he never lost his pride My dad was blind, could not see Yet could see the funny side
Dad passed at the ridiculously young age of 56, it is impossible to believe in less than seven years from now, I will be older than him. Everything in the poem above is true, they really did happen, but he could always laugh at himself, which I always saw as a tremendous strength, just one of the many valuable life lessons he taught me.


Details | Rhyme | |

Fading Memory

Things can come, things can go
With a mind that has become so slow,
I cannot keep a thought for long
As I continue to go along.

This river of time I find myself in
Just keeps on going and I can't remember when.
My thoughts stay jumbled and finally lost,
Will I not be able to have a mind on the mend?

Age and memory aren't much fun,
When that river of time keeps going and you have none.
A fading mind is like a day that is ending
All that's left is a thought that needs mending.

.....?? Nuts!!


Details | Light Poetry | |

An old man's crumble

An old man's crumble.... I am an old man and no matter I say or do. But still I am living with my stubbornness heart I have complications with health history and hospitals always welcome me Sometime, my heart beats so hard and my veins are twisting me mad But still I manage to do my work on my own My walking stick is great support for me If not, I would not able to stand on the road Sleep brings me nightmares with forecast scenarios but when I wake up in the morning I feel nothing but freezing body and feet My memory is failing and my soul is falling My head is turning and my life is shortening How do I spent my youthful life all these days? Well, nothing much to tell about it because I am not married either. I really love to recollect my good old days but my memory of tears kept them away Youth become major and old become gold. So they say But sometimes I wonder where do I find my way around Before I go to bed, I keep my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a glass of water and my both eyes on the side table When my sleep overtakes me, I don't hear anything, my teeth don't feel cold and I don't see anything either I get up each morning and reset my bones from my sleepy body Later I pick up the news paper to read world news and sad news these days If my name is missing in the obituary column, thanks God I am not dead So I continue to do my work as usual till the day ends. Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka Copyright @Sept,2010 Ravi Sathasivam


Details | Quatrain | |

Memory of Bread

Whenever I smell warm loaves of bread
The mouth-watering smell gets me thinkin'
Of my childhood at my grandparents' house
And kneading bread dough in the kitchen.

When I bite into bread, fresh from the oven
The present is soon chased away,
For I'm back baking bread with my Lola
Though I can't bake my own bread today.


Details | I do not know? | |

"A Trip Down Memory Lane"

Coors Lite, Food Fight,
My bros dirt bike, and kisses good night,
Orangutan Sex, "I give it a ten"
Billy Bob and Bacon, his little pig friend.
In the dark playin' basketball,
Don't forget about Niagra Falls.
What kind of hips do you want?
It seems we can't agree,
Candy Shop, PDA, A BIG mouthful of me.
Varsity Blues, The "I Love You's"
Makin' Cookies that look like pancakes,
But all of these things just lead to a heartbreak.


This poem is for Terry Bell!
He was my first "true love".
We aren't together now,
But I still Love him.
Let's face it...
I ALWAYS will!