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Life Memory Poems | Life Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece


Details | Rhyme | |

A Reflection Upon A Long Life Lived

A Reflection Upon A Long Life Lived




So many things in my life have come and gone
   idle days of fishing and resting in shade
Early morn sight of mother deer and newborn fawn
   so many of the sweet , dear friends made

Holidays with grandparents singing happy tunes
   picnics lakeside in grove of red oak trees
Birthday parties cakes , ice cream and balloons
   disappearing ships sailing upon unknown seas

Loves, far too many in my wild younger days
   beautiful girls waiting for a kiss
So awesomely pretty in their hot sexy ways
   so many more did I foolishly miss

Life flowed on like a flooded raging river
   me with a ship and no winded sails
Too often selfish taker instead of loving giver
   driving hammer without the much needed nails!

Robert L.  05-24-2014

Truth in the telling. A wild life, mistakes galore , escapades on far too many shores!


Details | Free verse | |

The Letter

"Dear Time"
Thank you for being patient, 
Thank you for understanding I'm human, after all.
Forgive me for all the mischievous prank calls. 
Much of what I said and done, was out of fun.
Now, I sit on this rocking chair getting old.
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor it has been 
   Passing this land we call "EARTH."
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor, yes-------------- REMINISCING!
Sorry if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying not to forget, who I truly AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be, 
Finally is taking a toll on every single feeling and memory.
Time, Yes------------------ TIME!
The wrinkles on my face will never describe how many birthdays I celebrate.
The wrinkles on my face are stories reminding my readers,
 Where I've been and come from.
How consistent, and fortunate I've been, 
Babbling about my past, present, and future; 
The only advantage of the word "TIME."
-- It helps fade hurting moments away--
You see, time is the essence of memories.
 
Dear Time,
"Growing from young into old, was not as easy as it sounds."
Please be patient with, Wait! I said that already....
Thank you for understanding what I’m going through.
Please just listen, please, be patient with what's burning deep down inside.
It's almost dinner time --once again, I mention the word "TIME!"
I'm not hungry right now, the food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' have me wearing.
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns.
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty reddish brown hair.
Time what have you done to me?
Please excuse if I can't work a remote or function the TV properly.
What has happened to simple technology, 
   When everything came with only "ON and OFF" buttons.
Try to understand what I’m going through, my legs never felt this tired before.
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path, 
I lose track of time when navigation issues on my own.

Dear Time, 
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see as before.
Time, please allow the joy to take its time when my end is near.
Thank you, Time, for all the loving moments we shared
Thank you, Time and please be kind and end my life with love.
End my life with love-----
End my life with love-----
Wait..... I said that already....

Dear Time, 
Thanks for having patience.

Sincerely Yours 
The Little Old Lady Across the Street

by;PD


Details | Haiku | |

Detach

Violet tulips
Each petal flips, another
Memory of you

©Drake J. Eszes 


Details | Sonnet | |

Those Glory Days, Long Gone

Those Glory Days, Long Gone


Those glory days resting so far bygone
I trek ahead, sad and so all alone
Treasures left upon lofty mountain tops
Rushing ever foward, no time for stops

Days, we resting under a shading oak
loving in vows that we forever spoke
Coolest mornings, breezing days easing minds
days of joy in all the many new finds

Those views of life sing forever above
crystal dreams set in our undying love
Nights of magic in epic love unbound
blisses in every kiss our wet lips found

Memories of days and nights now alone
holding memories of life so long gone!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-07-2014


Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line:  10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10  
Total # Syllables:  140  
Total # Lines:  17  (Including empty lines)  
Total # Words:  100 

Did it , hit exactly one hundred words + ten syllables
 per line and great rhyme.. A solid sonnet according to 
my own personal standards. Wrote it and had to minor 
correct only three lines..


Details | Free verse | |

Alzheimer's

In the morning, I gather my thoughts of yesterday
Like the foraging chipmunk, collecting acorns 
And stuffing them miserly in my jowls
The past is sustenance for a somnolent soul 

As age condemns my faculties
I pull, from my once copious jowl
A jewel of sorts
A garnet set in fool’s gold

My memory is manufactured 
Assembled and disassembled
No longer what was or is or will be
But was and is and never has been

Confine my thoughts to winter
Where barren fields and sterile trees
Offer less to recollect 
Empty my jaws of these useless reminiscences


Details | Marsiya | |

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel


______________________________________________________________________
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014 


Details | Elegy | |

I Need Your Help Daddy

I’m tired
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here

I can’t get back in control of my emotions 
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy

I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help 

Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance 
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help







Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Narrative | |

The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013


Details | I do not know? | |

I've Scribbled This Song For You



I've Scribbled This Song For You...


I'm wasting my days,
my empty nights too,

I should have held on,
but I simply lost you,

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

yes, I should have kept,
you close to my skin,

soaking your warmth,
but you were laughing,

at my foolish grin...


now I'm all broken,
and torn apart,

but what the hell,
I was always late,
for the tolling of the bell,

and now...

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

so kiss me now like you once did,
I'm tired of being so carefully hid,


la laa laa la laa laa laa...


(repeat to fade)


:-)


Details | Villanelle | |

When I Ruled the World

I remember when I held the world in these hands
Nothing out of reach as I self proclaimed my power
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand

Yes I lived in a world of deadlines and demands
  A master of time, always early at least half an hour
I remember when I held the world in these hands

Always alert sensing my victory before my stand
Any obstacle or objection I would quickly devour
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand

Is there anything left of that person, maybe a strand
It’s not from any fear, but indifference that I cower
I remember when I held the world in these hands

For this tragic change I could have never planned
Everything that tasted so sweet is now bitter and sour
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand

Almost six years later, I still cannot understand
In the late hours of night, I’m left to now scour
I remember when I held the world in these hands
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand



Penned by Wayland Bunch II 12/14/2013 for With These Hands contest
I used image #6 for this poem


Details | Free verse | |

A Beautiful Reverie

Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing 
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when 
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths 
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile 
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms 
And for a moment I'm lost 
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love 
And there you are - holding it 
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then - 
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.


Details | Free verse | |

Rebirth

Ignite,
The missing light,
Forget,
What's behind.
Just believe,
That love comes again...

'Cause,
The skies,
Are like a hard glide,
In a shining rainbow's light...

All dreams and fantasies,
Can be reality,
'Cause fantasy,
Is based on reality...
But all histories aren't the same...

'Cause,
Sometimes, we dive,
In our lives...

So,
Don't judge,
For what you see,
Judge,
For what it is...,
'Cause time passes,
But, memories remain...

And,
Listen,
To your heart,
'Cause,
The body, does,
The mind, thinks,
And, the heart, feels...,
While, the soul, lives...

So,
Always remember,
To remember the past,
To live the present,
And to wait and pursue the future...

Listen to your heart,
Before you are telling goodbye,
'Cause destiny,
Might lead to demise...,
But, remember that destiny can be changed...

Life is unpredictable,
But space and time,
Could be controlled...
And even if some die,
We may survive...

Remember,
That life,
Might have an endless beginning...

All that remains,
Is to be reborn...


Details | Ballad | |

Silent House

The house stands mute, broken by years...
Windows stare through jagged glass.
Empty as the eyes of death.
Silent void...echoing joy..patient tears,
reach out in memory each time I pass
the gaping door which has no breath.
 
A rusted lamp-post leans toward Earth...
listening for approaching sound,
to light the darkness once more.
Quiet hush...resounding mirth,
touch my step upon the ground,
and beckon me in, to the shattered house.
 
Crushed boards once held dancing feet...
laughter clings to crumbled stones,
and tears strain the silent rooms.
Scattered remnants of life replete,
lie still as whitened desert bones,
and words spoken...here entombed.
 
I gaze upon torn and tattered walls...
Time pauses, and whispers soft to me
of life blossomed rich in moments gone.
Of a woman whose memory recalls
the beauty of love...and eternity...
mirrored in a rose upon the lawn.
 
House so sad, your youth abounds,
neath fallen grace, and buried sounds.
I hear your song in distant night,
and stand before your silent sight.
 


Details | Rhyme | |

My Treasure Chest

I have a wooden cedar box
Filled with precious things
Most of no value to you
But joy to me it brings

A copper penny, 1961
The year I was given life
A withered old white rose
From the day I became a wife

Two certified legal documents
That tell me that I am free
A US birth certificate
And a final divorce decree

Golden locks, adorned with ribbon
Clipped from the head of my son
A bag filled with tiny teeth
Exchanged for a dollar one by one

A report card, five A’s  and one B
My sons first year at school
A tattered silken blanket
Still covered with infant drool

A book of poems that I had written
While I was a rebellious teen
Fifty plus love letters
From then, now and in-between

Old yellowed photographs
Of family long since gone
A dozen crayon pictures
That both my kids have drawn

Hospital anklets, pink and blue
That both my children wore
A stupid keep out sign
That I used to hang on my door

Each item within this box
Is a memory that I hold dear
I keep them for a distant time
When my memory won’t be so clear

So if you wish to see inside
To you I have one request
Do not call it just a box
‘Cause to me it’s a “TREASURE CHEST”
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Sat and Pondered

I sat and pondered the things I’d like to forget.
There have been some bad times -
Lost love, both romantic and familial,
betrayals by a few I considered close friends,
and the inevitable hardships of simply living life
including its numerous moments of sheer embarrassment.
I contemplated which of those many examples of life’s trials
I would choose to completely forget. . . 

Then I thought of my step dad, who passed away -
and not so quietly - those several years ago,
his mind stripped bare of any reasonable thought,
and all his recollections, whether good or bad,
reduced to the fleeting images of childhood’s ghosts.
At the very end, was there even a glimmer for him
of the recognition of anything at all?

I was not there at his bedside, but my mother related to me
the wild fear in his eyes 
as he choked for breath while clinging to life
despite his apparent inability to even grasp
one memory that would give him a reason to survive!
Everything reduced to the blind biological instinct
simply to breathe. . .
All who were there at the end with him
were praying for him just to pass
quietly into the night.

With all memory ripped cruelly away
and still  he fought to live. . . 
So how could I ever declare wanting to forget even an iota
of anything at all in my entire life?


Written 1/18/13 for Frank's Contest


Details | Light Poetry | |

An old man's crumbles

An old man's crumbles........ 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 | Free verse | |

Tumbleweeds


Memories tumble through my mind, 
rolling aimless, some have been...
missing for a while.
I try to fill in the blanks. Others, 
I sweep into already dusty corners.
You know, the ones far easier forgotten.
Tumbleweeds...my memories
have become tumbleweeds.
I take snapshots of the cherished ones, 
file them away
giving them a home...
before they blow away in the savage wind.
I yell out to my own echoing voice -
"Did I tell you my mom liked to dance?"
"Yes", I remember.
I hear her music, rock-and-roll,
her long hair bouncing with each step.
She doesn't dance anymore...
I see my step-father, hands dirty, working
always working, but sometimes
stopping to joke or tease. 
Moments gone...memories fleeting...
begging them to stay
a little longer or at least 
visit my dreams.
"Did I tell you my dad played drums?"
"Yes", I remember. 
I hear rat-a-tat-tat in my head, 
primal beats, rhythmic beats -
complex man, gentle soul...
I would sing at the top of my lungs while he played.
He never seemed to mind my shrill, little girl voice.
I miss him, I miss his drums. Music is not the same.
Nothing the same.
I close my eyes and another memory
blows through empty spaces.
My brother is racing his bike down the street FAST.
He is about ten, all skinny legs in his shorts.
"Where are you going?" I call after him, too late.
"Don't go, please don't go!"
He is gone and I wonder if he was ever here, there, 
anywhere within my reach.
Some do go astray, I remind myself.
Missing memories...missing love - 
loneliness finding a home in my heart 
when least expected...
"Wait, come back", I yell to him. "I'm still here."
Ruminating, I ask myself if we ever know,
really know, the ones we love.
No, not really. I remember.
Frantic, I reach for the tumbleweeds, grasping.
I reach for my two earthly fathers who are long gone...
I see them, each so different yet loved. Then, 
they blow away, missing again.
I chase them futilely. The savage wind still blows,
across grains of desert sand...
I will never know why, never know. 
Tumbleweeds...my memories have become 
tumbleweeds
blowing in a savage wind.


* one of my favorite early poems (maybe it doesn't seem happy, but
it includes some of my favorite memories)
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

March 2, 2012
Second Place in Chris Aechtner's Let the Masks Fall Contest




Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Free verse | |

THE REBEL

The Hollywood hills still echoes with his 
Rebellious yell, we are the forever young
Generation.
An iconic American symbol, to this the lost
Age of innocence.
Nay did this rebel die without a cause,
I think not, in my humble opinion, he
Died for his desire for speeds acceleration,
In death's ironic twist of fate, James Dean's
Name became immortalized as an epic tragedy,
Of youthful hearts seeking to be wild and free,
Without any consequences.
A teen idol who went out in a blaze of glory, 
Revving His engine hell bound for destiny's,
Rock-n-roll Hall of Fame.
A nation wept in despair mourning for the
Loss of one so young and full of life.
Sorrows children cried in disbelief laying roses,
At his final resting place.
The jukeboxes remained silent with respects,
Reverence, and bikers gave him a rebel send off.
A generation whom believed they were bullet proof,
Realized how human life could be extinguished, 
Within the flash point of on coming head lights.
James Dean's ashes were swept away swallowed,
Whole by time itself.
Now he's nothing but a tarnished star in histories,
Memorabilia case on display for all to see,
And remember, this the first easy rider. 
JFK dream vision illusion of Camelot has faded to gray,
And Elvis now sings in a more heavenly chorus,
In the great beyond.
But before these man took the center stage, another
Walked the thin line of immortality's rebel fighting,
For a cause.
One lone figure rides into the night across freedoms,
Highway, and his name was James Dean.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN







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 | Free verse | |

Separation

I stare through the rear window as 
the car begins to move away  
With tears running the gamut of my 
Face my body trembling and wet with 
Sweat 
I choke with anger as the contempt
For this separation grows deep
I wail and I wail 
It is then that the memory of her tear
Filled puffy red eyes as she is cloaked
In a moment of sadness
Is imprinted on me 
And I became a broken child
On a journey to a world that seemed
To be without conscience
For no longer could I be her 
Protector and me the center of her 
Attention 
As the weeks turn to years the years 
To decades
A bitter emptiness haunts me
For when I search my memory  
Nowhere do I find ever saying  
The goodbye word 
To my little sister 
And I cry 



Earl S. Jackson
Mar 1996


Copyright © 2010 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved


Details | Free verse | |

Wisps

"Friend,
Mind wandering through misty woods.
You don't understand your purpose.
Friend,
I knew you too little,
Please do not shed your salty emotions,
Not out of anger, not out of sadness.
Friend,
You now lose your way so easily,
You sink, you burst, you burn inwardly.
You weep from frustrations, 
From the guilt of an honest smile,
From pains, that you forget for a moment,
That come swiftly back to haunt you of your loss.
I understand, dear friend.
You once had a light and the woods seek to snuff it out.
Do not fear, dear friend,
Friend follow me, as I once did you.
Friend, now you see?
Yes, you see,
The little wisps in the fog that guide us home."

~In memory of Bill Hamman, and all else who have suffered the pains of Alzheimer's


Details | Narrative | |

Straying Juvenile

My younger sibling, I brought you painfully up,  you brought me "pain"  fully
I myself struggled through  constant hard times, your constant struggling with yourself, hard timed me
I cleared a pathway through life for you, you clearly thought the pathways were lined with gold 
Today I had to repair,  Mums front door, the door you caused to be kicked down yesterday
I love you and will defend you, even when you are wrong, which as you know, you never are
You lost your parents some way back and now it seems you somehow lost your way




I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid

You cannot mess with men like this, they follow no set rules
Wealth becomes a god to them, they do not suffer fools

I pulled you from a hole today, I pulled you from a hole
The talk was death to stinking thieves, I saved your very soul

You lost your mum and dad so young, is that why you rebel but life is not a one way street, I lost them both as well

You brought me lots of grief tonight, you brought me lots of grief
I brought you up as many things but one was not a thief

I handed back, the things you took, I gave them all right back
The men who stood at mums front door had shot guns in a sack

The offer that they offered me,  was one,  to not refuse
Return the goods the "bastard took"  or read it in the news

If mum and dad were still alive, for this you would pay dear
If mum and dad were still alive, do I make myself clear

I can't believe you did this thing, I can't believe you did
The shame on mum and dad's memory and then you run and hid




Details | Blank verse | |

On Nature's Stance

The fig tree remembers,

the countless flowers reaching beyond the iron fence, 
its petals squeezing through for a touch of greater sun,
making them dance as the southern wind deems to prance.

The fig tree remembers,

the dog house at the end of the yard,
the countless faces the green yard welcomed,
fresh, crisp, clothes stretching across the line, beating to the softness of of a southern wind, rushing through the sky. 

The fig tree wishes to forget,

the sound a civilian child made after hearing a charge in the distance,
the ghostly night its keepers struggled to run to shelter, all the while 
thinking they will be back much quicker.

The fig tree wishes to forget,

the loudness of army planes flaring by in the sky,
the faces of agressors as they stormed the house,
leaving only traces of their footsteps, as a house that stood for decades
was just reduced to a sea of flames.

Twenty years later, this fig tree still lands,
surrounded by the soaring, overgrown grass,
feeling the absence of her owner’s caring hands.

The fig tree still struggles to forget the night it all changed,
when her owners were coerced to leave her,
the night when she became the only existent life there.


Details | Free verse | |

Cold Beers and Voyeuristic Cannibalism

I’d like to pretend that my hands aren’t dirty 

from the soap of mental suppression,

that the callouses are from hard work,

and not from picking my bones back up

off the floor on a daily basis;

ragged, dry, and weary. 

Every fairy tale has a root,

stapled into the hard soil of truth.

They all have a moral,

some sort of clerical error 

born from life’s shadow. 

We watch, hoping to learn 

from the missteps of someone

else’s intrepid imagination,

some 4D revelation singing

lullabies to the young heart

of humanity.  

And they bend to the fickle 

will of greedy creativity, 

making the yoke less bitter

so that we can tongue the purge

of denial without pouting. 

I’d like to pretend that my hands are clean,

that I don’t whisper cold lies into your palms,

watch you drink from the frosted glass

of my sincerity; Hope that you don’t blink,

that you won’t notice the blood bubbling 

up, and over my shiver before you finally

finish this story. 

I just want you to understand.

This isn’t poison.

This is merely me bleeding out,

and hoping you’ll learn to love the 

taste of fire kissed oxymoronic metaphors,

served up with juiced will and the vegan

flesh of my inhibition.  

So that you can see through my eyes,

know where I have been,

and how it felt to be consumed.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | I do not know? | |

South African Freedom Day

freedom day 
(april the 27th 1994)


far too many brave compatriots died

and

flooding rivers of tears were cried

far too many families ripped apart

with

daggers cutting into their heart

the pain is felt still deep today
on this glorious sun-splashed South African Freedom Day

as we pause and remember those who do not remain with us anymore

as we appreciate the fruits that their sacrifice and struggle bore

far too many to count and to name

but we honour them all while we keep burning that eternal flame

...Oliver Reginald Tambo
...Chris Hani
...Solomon Mahlangu
...Prakash Napier
...Yusuf Akhalwaya
...Matthew Goniwe
...Neil Aggett
,,,Ahmed Timol
...Vuyisile Mini
...Hector Peterson
...Babla Saloojee
...Bram Fischer
...Dulcie September
...Sparrow Mkonto

just a few, but so many still nameless

who were brutally cut down
by a racist system that was merciless, and cruelly shameless

we honour you, today
but we remember you each and every day

when we breathe in the air of the freedom that you craved

as we walk the roads of a wounded but healing country that you saved

from itself, for the hate and racism and hushed prejudice of race and gender and religion and sexual persuasion and caste and creed

that you so valiantly fought against, is still with us, as it on fear and ignorance does feed

the odour of racism and hate
of white and black and jew and muslim and hindu and catholic and yellow and brown

is a living parasite that lives and thrives all across this beautiful world, from cities and villages and hamlets, to the smallest rural town

it may become a mark of shame upon us all 

so we have to, today, struggle against and boldly fight

for the sacrifices of the many can never be cheapened, by the polite dinner-table murmurs of hate, try as hard as they might

for if we as a nation, 
a country 
a world 
a people 

one people

are to truly step out of the lashing cold painful rain

we have to continue your struggle

so that your supreme sacrifices may not have been in vain...

and so we say 

'hamba kahle, comrades'

to you who laid your young lives down and slipped away

so that we who remain may in the sunlight and out of the rain live and breathe and stay

in a country, and in a world
where religion and gender and sexual-persuasion and all colourful hues

may mingle and love and laugh and cry together on the sun-filled avenues

so thank you, comrades, for showing us a better path that we must embark on as we shuffle onwards into a brighter tomorrow

away from the hurt of the past, and away from the tears and away from all the sorrow

for the true freedom that we seek now, is the freedom from our own racism, our own prejudices, our own sexism, our own petty hates and bottled-up anger

for therein, lies the fight ahead

for therein, lies the real and growing danger.
Aluta Continua!
Amandla Ngawethu!

The Struggle Continues...


Details | I do not know? | |

RIP Virginity

Dear Sir, my innocence is gone now, no more fear 
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here. 
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen, 
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain! 
I was crying; I was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened. 
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end. 
I begged you to stop and looked into your eyes, 
there was a reflection of a cruel world, that’s  what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did, 
Nobody knows that you made me bleed. 
Dear sir, my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was so blind! 
having hidden hatred inside, a virgin died. 
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories, 
time doesn't heal all wounds, that you marked, 
yes, you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
My innocent world was shattered by your touch
Hope no one ever has to experience such
For all the pain, all the cruelty, thank you very much!


Details | Rhyme | |

Fake Words

Fake Words – Zamreen Zarook

God have given us mouth,
Not to speak to north and south,
Tongue is given under an oath,
So it’s our duty to protect them both.

Girls chat fake with boys,
Having a notion that the boys are toys,
They often make varied noise,
Thinking to keep a trap on handsome guys.

Boys are also human being,
So it’s not possible being clean,
Things varies in the way they are seen,
So positive thinking will make you keen.

Boys’ minds are pure,
As it is pure bio,
So don’t try to pour vino,
Which will take decades to get cure.