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Best Remember Poems

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New Remember Poems

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Anidode for september to remember by Herzog, William
An epiphany to remember by Dela Cruz, Wilbert
One Day You Will Remember Me by chizoba vincent, john
Our Hearts Remember by Parker, Frederic
'No One Will Remember Me' by Banks, Russell
HOW THEN SHALL YOU REMEMBER ME by ONESMUS, ARINDA
I Remember by Flores, Chuck
I'll Remember For Us Both by Y., Alexis
I Remember by Wheeler, Shelby
I Remember clearly by Resty, Yatubeera

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The Best Remember Poems

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The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven - A Tribute to Chan Hurst 1979-2014

A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet)

I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time.


"A Rational Explanation"

What must I do to see this through-
Unlock the world I never knew?
For all I've seen hath been untrue,
As all I've felt hath plagued me, too!
I am no more, past Deaths before
I've reached the end of Living War-
(to see through eyes both blind and closed)
A life to touch, but never know...


"Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep"

Every day, to God I pray
For answers to Life's enigmas
Patience lays in wait to stay-
To cleanse our Social Stigmas
We pass the time in our idle Dreams:
Like fallen stars in singing streams


"A Happy Ending"

Remorse and regret, I mustn't forget
Remind me that Life is a process of Learning
Indeed for I sorrow'd; 'twas always upset
As the Truth was met with painful discerning

But now my eyes are open-wide,
Grew to love what I once despised
I am no longer sick inside-
I just feel happy to be alive


"A Master's Approval"

No happier could I ever be,
(Or feel a joy's enormity!)
Than to know a Soul as Poe-
Would say he likes my poetry!


"The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven"

I pray that in my Eternity,
I'll meet Shelley, Poe and Emily
That we'll all sit down at a table round,
And at length discuss our Poetry!

And Longfellow, lest we forget
Lord Byron, Shakespeare, and beloved Keats!
If I prove their favorite Poet,
I could accomplish no greater feat!

For all my many silly musings,
This one I covet above the rest
For my Soul's toil- finally proving
That the Masters love me best!





"Heaven For A Poet"  by Kelly Deschler

My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook,
With only the finest parchment in a leather book,
A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink,
My thoughts would never stop to think,
Every single line I write would rhyme,
My poetry would be beautiful and sublime,
I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss,
And, put to bed nightly, by Mother Goose,
Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe,
Teaching me every single thing that they know.

My own piece of heaven, will have to wait,
Until one day, when I must meet my fate,
So, for now I will have to be content,
With my own words that may be heaven sent,
Inspiration from my idols is all I need,
Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead,
With this cheap, plastic Bic pen,
And a dream to be, just like them.



This poem was one of mine that Chan had faved, so I thought it would be appropriate to share this now and dedicate it to him.

I will always miss you, BP, my brother in poetry, but I sense that you are smiling down on us now.

I know that Chan idolized Edgar Allan Poe. I remember him telling me that someday,
he wanted to share a table in heaven with that "good ol' E.A. Poe".

So, Chan, if that is what you're doing now, I envy you, my friend! 

And, you said that you would personally invite me to that little gathering, remember? :)








Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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My Song

~Not Like Me~ 

When you were first put into my arms, 
I begged God, to make you nothing like me 
For my sins, ask for no transformation 
This is my song, my meditation 

Look at my face 
Where has it gone, 
You no longer desire to be part of my song 

Look at my life, 
The toll hasn't been paid 
I'm the one suffering every day 

The vengeance of eternal flames, 
   sit near the empty hearth 
Burning my needs to hold you once more, 
I need you more than you'll ever know 

Now, Look at me, at the age of 73 
I have nowhere to go 
Everyone I know awaits in a place of gold 
Unlike you, you're too busy, proud and bold 
------ A different song!!! 

I sing a song, that accentuate's the mind, 
I have no one to blame, I neglected all the signs 
Hoping the rain would slowly die off 

Today here I lay, wondering where I went wrong 
I implored God, to cause you nothing like me 
I have a heart that forgives, and tries to forget 
I kneel, and I give, and I treat others with respect 
My compassion, I measured in the poorest way 

I judged my life worse than the others did 
Why did I ask ---- Not Like Me! 
For my sins, ask for no translation 
This is my song, my speculation 

The dreaded conclusion of this song, 
All I can say, "Be careful what you ask for." 
In the end, all I can say, I got what I asked for 
Someone, who's Not Like Me...................... 

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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My Little Soldier Boy

Gary, you are my little soldier boy,
who died on Veteran's Day. ('83)
My sunny, golden-haired soldier boy,
that I still miss in every way.

You had just turned 13,
getting interested in girls.
When CF took you from me,
my heart, like a flag, unfurled.

You fought CF with every breath.
For 13 years you tried.
And four lung collapses later,
after each one, I said, 
"Son, you will survive."
Oh, how I lied!

Now, no more hugs and kisses,
No more birthday wishes,
I watched you go
and please God know,
Heaven, receive my treasure.


Author Note:  This poem was written in memory of my son, Gary,
who died of Cystic Fibrosis at 13, in 1983.  I honor my soldier who so valiantly
fought his fight on the battlefield of a life threatening lung disease, which fills the lungs with sticky mucus and makes it difficult to breathe. With all CF children, 
they struggle with every breath they take just to breathe! My son eventually 
started to have lung collapses. He had four before the last one took his young life  on Veteran's Day weekend in 1983..(Read my poem "A rainbow Glitters") 

I wouldn't be a poet today, if not for my son. He was diagnoses at age three.
As I sat by his hospital bed crying, I reached into my purse for a tissue, but 
instead, I pulled out a pen. I thought to myself, "Ok, God, I get the message.
You want me to write and not cry." So I wrote my first poem that night, "Not 
MY Son!"  Which eventually got published in Elizabeth Kubler Ross' Book "On Children and Death." Later, I wrote humorous poems to entertain my son, who
was often to sick to go to school.  And I'm still writing my poems today. 
 



 



Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014

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9 11

                                    
                                                               
                             America the Free  ~             America the Brave ~
                           Freedom with price              Capitalism attacked
                            the many taken                   hearts broken still
                              one World                           try to rebuild
                            sadness and tears               fall hard with fears  
                            guilt by association             many accused still
                             souls evaporated                shattered dreams 
                            tears fall on innocence          left with anger 
                             The proud fearless             knew the inevitable
                              policeman fireman             many lives lost
                            grieving does not stop           12 years later    
                               New York city once          proud  & shameless 
                             refusing to let fears in          protecting ours 
                                left in shock still              question's unanswered                    
                               nothing learned                     nothing gained  
                                ready to attack                   many left behind
                              anger greets denial              anger meets rage 
                               unacceptable still                 refusing new love 
                            wanting days to rewind           let us go back in time 
                              acceptance  allowing           the victims leave in peace
                              the brave taken young           leaving us sadly old
                               haunting dreams                     lost spirits dwell
                               no answers to hate            never forgetting that day
                               Evil entered suddenly              unforgiving fate
                                entering our City                we stand with the fallen
                                 How to fix                            how do we Change 




           
            This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~









          



Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

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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


Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

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EMPTY CHAIR 2015

This year we will remember Happier times in past months of December This year we will certainly see A massive void where you used to be This year we will sit and stare At that forlorn and empty chair This year we will sit and reminisce You are not here for us to hug and kiss This year we will definitely see No gift for you under the Christmas tree This year we will shed a tear For dad as you are no longer here This year we will raise a toast To our dad who we loved the most This year will be so difficult for us all It was the year the Lord did my father call 01~07~15


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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Invisible: co-written with C Devonshire

clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
   he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
       he is a man with no money, no property
          a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
 
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
   he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
      he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
        like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
 
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
    he is invisible to the revellers
       he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
         echoing through his mind in restless nights
           the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
 
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
    who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride 
       he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price 
         through severe disabilities and permanent scars
 
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
    he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
        he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
           a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
   
unemployed, homeless, unseen
    but most of all forgotten
       he is a man who seems invisible
          but he is still a man


-------------------------------------------------------------
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.






Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

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When Winter Comes, Remember Me

==============================

When Winter comes, remember me 
beside you on lush ivory sand. 
If icy fingers beckon thee, 
arise and brush aside her hand. 

As you awake on shortening days, 
when Winter comes, remember me. 
Hoar frost just may forsake her grays 
and let wet days set colors free. 

Light snow may fall so subtly, 
pale notes on parchment sheer as sleet, 
when Winter comes. Remember me
and I shall play each shivering sheet. 

July's abundant harvest gone, 
I'm owed no Summer memory 
but hope you will, from this day on, 
when Winter comes, remember me....

==============================

Name: Lycia Harding
Date: Oct 28, 2015
Contest: Any Sad Poem
Sponsor: Broken Wings


Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015

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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



Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

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I think back

When I think back...
 I see your eyes on me across the room,
 The way your lips slowly curve into a happy smile,
 Your strong arms holding a child,
 And I think back...
 Do you remember being the "Big Man" on campus back then?
 Or the easy ways of the women you've held?
 The loving hearts that you've shuttered and broke?
 And I think back...
 Do you remember those secret games we once played?
 Or the silent pleas to the Lord that you've made? 
 The loving family you've had and destroyed?
 And I think back...
 And I think back to the way things are and smile,
 And I think back to the way you were and I know,
 And I think back to the man you've become and I love you,
 And I thank back...then I thank God.


Copyright © Alina Councilman | Year Posted 2014

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Poppies Red

November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada 
(Veterans Day)
When I was in grade 7 or 8 (I don't exactly remember) we had 
 to write poetry for a Remembrance Day contest. I won and had to read this in front of our whole grammar school. I must of been 12 or 13. This was my first real poem!
I dedicate this here today to all the soldiers who fight or have fought for our rights and freedom.


In Flanders Field with poppies red,
there lies the secret of the dead.
Those blood coloured poppies
so red and so gay,
bring the whispering sound
of Remembrance Day.

Those true earnest men
who fought for their land,
now lay beneath the musky cool sand.

Alert and ready at dangers call,
prepared to fight they would not stall,
but march right on,
now some there lay,
In Flanders Field,
with poppies gay.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
1970


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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I WILL REMEMBER YOU

On a day
when words of wonder fail to come
to describe the beauty in what I see
when I am simply overcome
and my quill is kept still;
I will remember you -
that you believed in  me
and were kind enough to express
that belief  in such a beautiful way.

At a time
when the right words would not come
to give voice to a moment, a  feeling
when uncertainty knocks 
at the door of my heart;
I will remember you -
that you had faith in me
and were generous to provide
the warm wind for my soaring flight.

For now,
know of my sincerity
when I want to simply  tell you
the words that  won’t be kept inside.
From the warmth of my heart
to the purity of yours;
Thank You.






Poem of the Day - June 06, 2015
Kim Patrice Nunez
June 04, 2015







Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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Mirror Ball

I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,

A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.

The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.

The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.


Gene Bourne
08-01-14
.


Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014

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DREAMS OF YESTERDAY AND TODAY

DREAMS OF YESTERDAY AND TODAY Leaves falling during autumns years they bless my ribbon memories of how it was childhood shadows brown like withered grass for now am old and soon shall breathe my last.. I sit quiet to travel on bygone days, on the streets before, I have ropes to play blend of dolls and bubbles also made me gay but the child in me still yearns to pass these ways. From curves of mountains to nations across the sea, to journey more, I ask God to direct where I'll be... I passed a plant its leaves swaying with the breeze, years fold, the same plant is now a fruit-bearing tree. I view the puffy-feathered skies and its blue, I smile each breaking dawn for it's silvery new. I tackle each task fast and through but before I knew, hours gone and done, I finished some-- I missed a few. When evenings globes of wordless speech shine allowing me to run, run into garden of dreams, of childhood once supreme but they shoot away in flutter flash on life's fluctuating stream. I hugged my knees to stop my tears a while remembering decades when my body is still a child. I keep the tears to my chest as I go by, if only, good times replay... I want them again. Each bulging grin that rise unto east horizon, Each satellite, modelling slow on her turning points in stellar of green, and her clouds of powder white, I quench my thirst drinking the beaming tides. Down earth, I linger to verdure adorned of rosy blush even from the arch where the gentle winds is seen to dwarf liquid curls that roll near the shore, I dreamt yesterday and still am dreaming today... Twenty years ago, blooms and fruits hang on vines so fragrant, so fragrant were those days of mine Now no more; their traces I could not find; Today, I need to make more golden memories etched to time as later, I'll be leaving them behind And if someday, one wanders in my lifes forest despite blowing winds and thunderstorms, like the tiny plant, may I be that fruit-bearing tree. ___________________________________________________________ Open Poetry Contest - Poetry Contest Sponsor Charlotte Puddifoot ~~~3rd place~~~ OLIVE ELOISA GUILLERMO 9:15 pm, July 11, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

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The 50's

There was a time when I was young
To share an era that begun
From music to the fashion trend
TV shows and history
Fads and other mysteries
I saw them all as time moved on

From classic pop to rock and roll
Bill Haley and the Elvis craze
And four years in my Air Force phase
But Jitterbug still hung around
The big bands had that unique sound
Time moved on to start the clock

European cinema
Fellini, Bergman made the mien
And Japan added to the pie
To film The Seven Samurai
Brando, Newman and James Dean
newly captured on the screen

Television's Golden Age
All the programs set the stage
For Gunsmoke and the Twilight Zone
I love Lucy, I married Joan
TV tubes were changed a lot
Wrestling shows were really hot

Mantle, Mays and Robinson
Took baseball to another rung
The coonskin cap and hula hoop
Duck tail hair and snapper soup
I wore one with a thick pomade
And ate the soup that Momma made

My fashion sense left much to judge
As if I had good taste for fudge
Pegged pants with a six inch rise
Ladys skirts were different then
Lengths that came down to their shins
Three inch higher was a sin
Still dirty minds existed then

In Belgium back in 58
I saw an exhibit on that date
The Sputnik with a cute stray dog
was launched so high up in the air
Before the U.S. could get there 
Then the race to conquer space

McCarthy hearings, lives destroyed
The Cold War was our only plight
The Commies kept their nukes in check
And Castro entered on the scene
There were no hot wars left to fight
Days still continued as well as night

I share a new millennium
But today the future's not so bright
No more long hand, the laptop's here
Facebook and Twitter have conquered our sphere
The death knell has tolled for how life was then
Rekindle your past and live again 




Ralph Sergi February 19, 2015 
Decades by Kelly Deschler


Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2015

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VietGodnam

VietGodnam

The red white and blue
Not always right, but always true
Men of valor
Men of the draft
Men of the poor
Men who spilled their blood for country

Those who died
Those who lived
Those who live inside their nightmares
I humbly thank you

It is I who must walk in shame
That we did not play our role
Supporting our nations heroes
Supporting those who deserve the most

Now years later wisdoms become the truth
As Vietcong and War Vets, hold hands
Drinking tea and sharing peace
Ask any soldier, for what value he would fight the most
He will tell you very clearly
I will fight, to end all wars

He who has fought
Knows that the battlefield leaves no winner
Only orphans to roam the streets


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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Eve

Does the past really matter?
 Does it set you free? 
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me. 

Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch. 
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.

Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night. 

I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.

Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone. 

My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time. 
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided. 

My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.

Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree. 


Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013

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Queen Eileen Remembers

On day full of doom and gloom
With no strength to leave my room
With no hope to look towards light
With darkness closing in at night
I remember…..

When my heart floods with despair
Burdened by my load of care
When the rose has but a thorn
Wishing I were never born
I remember….

When no effort is worthwhile
On my face no trace of smile
When my heart does naught but weep
For a love I cannot keep
I remember….

I remember, 
A kingdom in which I reign
Where I banish grief and pain
A kingdom where all is light
With rolling hills, verdant, bright 
I tremble….

I smile, for I am a Queen
Only beauty can be seen
Fairies flutter to and fro
Peace and joy is all I know
I tremble….

Yes, 
I tremble with sheer delight
My crown glows with heaven’s light
I am loved, and I am free
For a QUEEN resides in me
I remember!!!!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

A poem dedicated to my friend, FLO Thomas, for her poem, The Kingdom of Ghali. I’m hiding away in my room, but the visit to this poem again, to this magical kingdom, brought a ray of light shining in. Love you, Flo! OXOXOXOXO I tease my family and friends that...I'm really a princess. I tell them, "Haven't you gotten that memo?" They all just laugh at me. Now...I have a wonderful comeback. "You won't even see the PRINCESS in me...on Poetry SOUP...I'm a QUEEN!!!!" Oh...the joy of virtual dreams!
Kindness goes a LONG LONG WAY!!!


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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FOOTPRINTS

Step by step and side by side In harmony like moon and tide We walk together hand in hand On sensually soft golden sand Ocean blue sprays her fine mist Memories of where we first kissed Stretching far as the eye can see Our footsteps follow you and me Time and tides they pass us by Oh how the days and years fly Good times, bad times pass our way Let’s cherish every single precious day 21st April 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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My Ashes

My ashes will be scattered in the garden of remembrance
A place that to me will have no relevance
For I will be gone, my spirit departed this life
So it won’t matter, it won’t cause me strife

I could ask to be scattered in Scarborough in the North Sea
Where my ashes could float on endlessly
Or they could be scattered in my Wrockwardine home
Where the wind would be free to make them roam

For those who I leave behind, memories they’ll have of me
Smiling and joking that’s how it will be
They can remember me as a Scarborough or Wrockwardine lad
As long as there thoughts are happy not sad

When my life is over and you all gather round
I hope you will wear colourful clothes and make lots of sound
I beg you not to be miserable or downhearted that day
Celebrate my life have a drink and just say

All the things that you think of me it can do me no harm
Have a hell raising party forget being calm
Sing karaoke and dance till you drop
Let the party go on let it never stop

Let the memories I leave you sustain you through the years
Whenever you think of me try a smile hold the tears
For maybe one day our souls will meet again
I’ll be there to greet you and drive you insane

For as in life so I will be in death to
Someone who will make you smile that’s what I’ll do
I will still be the Scarborough or Wrockwardine lad
For those who don’t like it well that’s just too bad


Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2013

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Eucalyptus Longing

The rushing wonts of action render these happenings unmovable,
These feelings, passionately felt, to dull words ill and strained
She clings, my koala, with chocolate eyes pining for my green
Though each time she lets me go, she leaves me docile and pained 

Once before I claimed her; yes, she did not turn away from me
But instead gazed on how the breeze could sway my branches
I wanted my bark to secrete the sweetest tears,
So she would know how eternally I yearn for her glances

For it is she alone, who can consume and digest my poisons
It is she alone—besides the sun—who gives me reason to stand erect


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

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'72'

                                                      ' 72 '

                                 
                                         Played our song today
                                         'The Lofty Skies'.
                                         Never meant to bring back '72'
                                         All the feelings, I had for you.
                                         Only a circle of black vinyl
                                         Where the needle used to jump
                                         Over coffee stains and cigarettes.
                                         In your room full of posters
                                         'Tumbling Stars', down on us.

                                         The warmth from your pink dress
                                         Melted us to the single bed.
                                         When your brothers, had gone
                                         And mum was busy ironing.
                                         Before coffee, and the news curfew
                                         Then my last bus home.
                                         That was '72'.

                                         Saw you shopping today
                                         With your little girls
                                         Looking just like their mother.
                                         Sadly, I never spoke
                                         But then, you never saw me.
                                         Bringing back '72'
                                         All the feelings, I had for you.
                                         Played our song today!.    



Copyright © William Gray | Year Posted 2015

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Would You Be The One

Would you be the one who would walk by my side through life?
Through all the pain and torment be my true Love, my wife.

Would you be the one who would fill my days with light?
To ever fill my heart with joy, to shine eternal bright.

Would you be the one who would kiss my very Soul?
The one who ever makes my Love her very goal.

Would you be the one to catch my last breath at the end?
To hold within my essence that to my Love i send.

Would you be the one my Love?
Would you be the one?

Would your face be before me at the setting of the sun?
Would you remember me when my life it was done?

Would there be tears in soft brown eyes?
As on Love's wings i soared to the skies.

Would you hear my song within your heart?
My Love song for you as i do depart.

Would you remember me when i had left?
Or are all my eager hopes bereft.

Are you truly the one my Love.
Are you truly the one. 

Would you remember me?
Would you remember me?


Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2016

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A Mother's Love And Her Lament

A Mother's Love And Her Lament

Before the break of a winter's morn
tired, it is dark, dank and cold.
With sad, eating thoughts so forlorn
wonders how quickly she got so old!

Up she races in her worn, torn gown
for her children must soon be fed.
With more food to be bought in town
tonight late, she falls into her bed.

Daily repetitions bring her down
but the kids keep on calling.
No time to stop or wear a sad frown
and the baby keeps on bawling!

There rests hope in her sweet dreams
and energy in her worn out shoes.
She fights the wild, onrushing streams
and resists singing the sad blues.

Tomorrow will be more of her loving
as the kids seem to need it so.
Even when they are racing and shoving
her deep love they need to know!

Before the break of a winter's morn
tired, it is dark, dank and cold.
With sad, eating thoughts so forlorn
wonders how quickly she got so old!

R.J. Lindley
Nov. 27th, 1971.
****************
Note- Written for mom. I know she works
so hard and loves we kids. If only she'd
let me tell her so. Sadly, she's just too
tired to hear and too distant to ever listen.. 
 ***************

New note TODAY- poem above is presented as written, 
I was 17 years old then.
My dad had been dead 2 years and my mother was
so distant from me.
Sharing today.. My friend's death still on 
my tired 'ole mind.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

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Muhammad Ali-The Greatest-RIP

"Muhammad Ali - The Greatest - RIP"


Muhammad Ali was a poet!
"I Outwit Them, Then Out Hit Them!"
He once said!
He created the "Rope-a-Dope" 
style in the ring.
He was boxing's 
Heavyweight Champion
with poetic cred!

"I Am The Greatest Of All Time!"
said a man who was once named
Cassius Clay!
"It Ain't Bragging If You Can Back It Up!"
See, this too he did also say!

He was known for making predictions
in which round his fights would end!
"Sonny Liston Is Great, But He'll Fall In Eight!"
Here was a poet creating a new trend!

"How tall are you?" Ali would ask
at pre-fight weigh-ins 
being a clown,
"So I can know in advance
how far to step back...........
when you fall down!"

"Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee!"
A phrase that will last for all of time!
"Your Hands Can't Hit, What Your Eyes Can't See!"
A poetic boxer with such rhythm and such rhyme! 

Health issues took "The Champ" from the public eye
though occasionally he would pose for pics.
He triumphantly lit the Olympic Torch
for the Atlanta Games in '96!

Rest In Peace 
"The Greatest Of All Time!"
"Man, Myth and Legend eternally!"
I can hear the shouts now 
at the Gates Of Heaven....It's
"Ali, 
 Ali, 
 Ali, 
 Ali!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*"The closer I am to God,
      the more things 
          on Earth lose their color and taste!
              Isn't it wonderful!"
                                    (Muhammad Ali)*

"What's my greatest weakness?
       Sad stories, people with problems!"

"The service you do for others is the rent
       you pay for your room here on Earth!"

"He who is not courageous enough to take
       risks will accomplish nothing in life!"

*Asked once if he'd ever been in Love he answered-
      "Not with anybody else!" :-)
                                     (Muhammad Ali)*



                    WTA-IV 6/4/2016


Copyright © Walter T. Ashe | Year Posted 2016