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Free Verse Memory Poems | Free Verse Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Free verse |

Recalling Her

It is thirty six years ago, and I am with her in the garden,
where July is a picnic of egg sandwiches, cress-stippled,
fuzzy-downed peaches, yellow-tangy lemonade.
Her fingers have the delicacy of dancers
as she deftly mixes paint on a palette blue as the sky -
blobs of acrylics bright as sweet shop candies.

Summer is a sizzling colour wheel, spinning in its heat hues -
cadmium orange, pyrrole red, gold ochre -
those fever-flames that blaze across her page.

My small world is warmed by the sun in her smile.

Russian vine stitches a delicate doily over the shed roof.
The heat-glazed garden shimmers and buzzes.
There is a twilight world under sweet clusterings of lilacs:
a cool shock of shade, pendulous-legged black flies
hovering in the murky mauve.
China white stars of jasmine light my way.
Please keep me close. Let me stay.

*

It is twenty six years ago, a morning of mourning,
and the notes of the dead bells toll
as, mist-muffled, they roll
through November's sleet streets.

I close my eyes and the sun in her smile parts the clouds.

Sober-suited people crush and cluster in pews;
row upon row of perylene black, winter-pale faces titanium white.
Stained glass windows filter and warm the ash-grey light
until her coffin is a vibrant palette of rainbows.

There are stories - lots of stories - anecdotes,
a crimson-backed journal she wrote,
a painting she painted, coffin-propped,
a poetry reading - one of her own -
Tapestry is a wondrous thing, in it the lovely colours sing...

Creamed rice-colour roses heap sweet
on her stone - a slate plate serving up a dead name -
and carnations splash cadmium scarlet
like blood throbbing from the gash of grief's raw wound.

*

It is now, and I am alone, taking a short cut home
through evening's rich palette.
Elegiac elms shed viridian tears
and the sky is a burnt sienna explosion.
October's umber seeps into November's sepia tones.

My mind is coloured with her and then.
I hold a small cameo box that held
the colourful spill of her pills: kaleidoscope planets
orbiting my loneliness, spinning off into nothingness...

Dark figures fill the park: silhouettes, shadows
following me home; spirits stepped from her portraits,
faces pushed down into coat collars, crinkled with frowns.

Paint-pinned people in their primaries and pastels,
on canvas, under glass; stopped heartbeats of the past.
Trapped moments on paper and boards.

I close my eyes and see the sun in her smile,
recall how, since her passing, life has become a free fall,
a parapet leap without parachute.

And the smudged charcoals of memory
are beginning to blur, fading like her watercolours...




in memory of my grandmother

2nd place in contest 'Anything Goes', date judged 4/12/2014
date written 11/3/2013

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2013


Details | Free verse |

A Night At The Desolate Harbor

The ship in the habor on silvery seas Lay vacant outspread 'neath the glassy moon Drifting in cold whispers of the night Like a drunk man shriveled on clasping knees In the loud echoes of the crawling winds The brave ship nods its old head Restless on the empty stage of the bay When lonely stars bleed their light On what was once earthly sublimity Now silence and haunt lingers there A graveyard of bones and sadness Beside the desolate harbor Rustling in the cold distance Laboring with a haunting melody That invades me in shivers of night. Sadness defeats The happy spaces of my mind Then your sweet kiss would descend Oh... your sweet kiss would descend As a fragrant memory Thawing the pain In the frost of my heart. My soul beckons your presence But silence became my loyal friend And Emptiness - The sorrowing of my hours That slithers through the night As the brave ship nods its old head Crackling and desolate In silvered breaking waters 'Neath moon's limpid eyes My hands descend With crimson buds of April's flowers To rest upon your tomb Of eternal silence.
''Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.''

Copyright © Mustapha Mohammed | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

HIDDEN MEMORIES

I reach onto the bookshelf Carefully removing the photograph album from the top shelf We nestle together on the sofa I slowly turn over the pages Yellowing photographs that capture precious moments frozen in time Suddenly you become animated Hidden memories begin to return … We laugh as you recall stories from the past You lovingly stroke the faces of those now long gone Wishing they were there by your side for real Tears fill your green eyes as you reach out and gently squeeze my hand Nostalgia Contest Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
11~25~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016


Details | Free verse |

Avi, oh Avi

Oh Avi, Avi
  Sometimes, with my eyes closed
    I see you dance
      A dervish, whirling, like me
        And I wished
          Oh how I wished you would
            pirouette into my arms
              You would hold me
                How I would hold you

                  But my arms and yours
                caught girls, alluring and delicate
              Oh Avi, Avi
            When you laughed
                                          My stomach turned
                             And multi-coloured butterflies
             And small flying kites
danced into the air

     Occasionally you glanced at me
       the way I did at you
       I think you did
Oh Avi, Avi
        We were so young
                Just boys, small boys
Thinking about you still
  makes my day smile

             I wheel my chair
        With light rhythmic movements
   Dreaming about a time
  Where I still had dreams
     And you were in them
          With our tights and muscular
               Frames and our spunk
             Avi, oh Avi.

***

March 7, 2017
© Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

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

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

In Memory Leonard Cohen

The End of Love

A secret grief rips apart all that was
Slaves to the sexual caresses of time
Stallions in black gallop gallantly in fields
Of spring full wishes
Thou seeith the birth of love
Naked hopes surrounded by sweet perfumes
Seduced by the gods or by demon fools


Dancing, towards our own charades we sing
Funerals consume autumn’s dead poets
The gravestone cold and gray
We hug it like a long lost friend
One may see a battle lost
The other a battle won
In November we reminisce the soldier and singers too

Didst you know I was a prostitute?
Selling my soul to the hourglass of eternity
Foolishly hoping to sleep upon her breast
Shivering as others seem to fall right at deaths door
Brimstone, black and rose

The underbelly of St Laurent
Youthful boasts as the old man in cane hobbles
Generations sailed down the main
Some seeking solace others finding fame

Vaguely the recollections appear
Visions inside dreams inside the darkest fears
The end of love is near
For the hand above is reaching
As I float to the end of time

Enchantment in the crypts
Ravens dancing as they consume our mortal
Hearts
No smiles, no sleep
Thou did knowest I’m surely certain
The dance of death
Only to be followed
By a piper
And angels violins

Rags and shrouds, kiss them all goodbye
Hallelujah



In Memory of Leonard Cohen, a fellow Montrealer, 21 September 1934 – 10 November 2016.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Doorways to Yesterday

The house slumps against overgrown yards
Where gardens wilt against the ground,
Begging for sleep beneath gray skies.
Vines move through weeds 
Like brittle fingers,
Reaching toward a sagging door 
Where paint peels like weathered skin, 
Curling in agony against the grain.
Once vibrant, now fading
Like all doorways to yesterday.

This is where memories flee,
Lying in wait like dormant ghosts 
That walk through the walls of my mind
As I walk through the door.

The hinges creak in protest,
Rusted by the rain of forgotten days.
The floors squeak in upset,
Unaccustomed to my timid feet.
The dust is stirred, the silence snaps
Like twigs used for kindling
To spark my tepid heart.
A decade becomes a moment.
A moment becomes a lifetime.

This is where memories live,
Trapped in time like restless ghosts 
That walk through walls and haunt the halls 
Of doorways to yesterday.

Though broken, they open
To swallow me whole.

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Scent Of Your Soul

The scent of your soul A caramelised breeze of fruit odours reverberating softly through my memory Throwing me right back in ninth grade where we sat side by side Your right arm reaching slightly for my back. Thoughts of you dwell in my mind and your name resonates gently with my spirit carrying me back to the shade of purple orchids in evergreen woods. Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee-beans and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind. Such revoked moments of unknown danger Of fearless dreams , and defiant fun. Other moments of beauty and snow angels Of freedom and moonlights ,sunrise and life. I can still recall those weeks ,months ,years till footprints marked separate paths and our shared candles became the past. Ah those lazy siestas, those days...those nights... Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice -cream parlour Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup Fresh as the linen of your shirt which haunts me like an alluring glance of almond - shaped eyes. This afternoon, like other afternoons, I walk to the library that knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own. That fragrance 's gone now . All that is left is a fading perfume of forgotten petals, between old books and dusty shelves. Nobody here, except my silence and a rotten sliced apple , Vacuum- packed ,lacking both cinnamon and spice. Back home, the mildewed strings of a guitar await my fingertips to play once more ,upon the worn out chords of my heart What willI play , What will I sing , a song that isn't ours ? Fermented wine I pour into an empty glass Yearning to taste the grape for what it was before all it was turned bitter, acidic and sour. Alone , I wonder where you might be So far or not so distant ,listening to the mood in my voice on once upon a record player, Wishing on a star ?

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

PLAYGROUND MEMORIES

Nobody observes her leaving her room wearing just her nightdress and red felt carpet slippers Shuffling silently she slips out of the front door onto the street Rivulets of rain start to soak her to the skin Her straggly hair hangs down limply It becomes so matted and twisted Soon it looks like writhing snakes are alive on her skull Her once pretty face is now lined and wrinkled Rain drips off the crevices and onto her sagging breasts Wandering off into the night she begins searching Walking the empty streets with her arms outstretched Searching, searching, desperately searching Eventually she reaches the children’s playground Sitting on a swing she rocks backwards and forwards The rhythmic movement seems to calm her down Tears form in her eyes and mingle with the raindrops Strong arms hold her and she is powerless to resist She hears voices telling her she must return home ‘We knew you’d eventually find your way here Maisie It’s time to return to the sanatorium … In future we will make sure the door alarm is activated’ 10~19~15 N/A in previous contest Submitted to screwed XI Sponsored by Rob Carmack Sponsor Nathan D

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

remembrance

i do not have the power to control what haunts beneath night's sheets nor the courage to send them packing from the depths of my mind nor the words to bid them farewell nor the freedom to learn how i am trapped my mind cries remembrance, the apple of your eye hides within a bushel of pain as a worm crawls circles around my life i long for a peck from warm lips not cold, stiffed imperfect ones like death's my lips peel beneath the folds of rare smiles and whispers of words from seeded pain my soul cries out in silence beneath the folds of life its bitter bite and darkness uncontrolled

Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Unbidden Memories Past

I feel the wayward wind,
Whispering softly to me.
It comes unbidden but then
So many events came unbidden.
The wind  promises me an after life,
It threatens death forthwith.
I dare to walk forward,
Meet my ultimate dreadful destiny
Be it sorrow or love
Success or mere defeat.
The path is etched too murky,
The horizon masked in gloomy mist
Hidden from me with such painful cruelty,
With sinister shadows and shameful secrets,
Neurotic dreads and bitter tears.  
 
The wind taunts me with unbidden memories,
Misdemeanours of my heinous past,
Indiscretions and controversial injuries
Inflicted indiscriminately
On my fellow countrymen.
The wind just maledicts me
Gives me no solace nor space.
 
It reminds me of that lovely day
When we wandered o'er the hills,
Where wild fragrant thyme incensed
The graceful countryside.
The wind had breezed through
Your silken hair and
Sparkled your luscious eyes.
Now you are gone forever, my dear,
While I lament your loss,
Try to forget the dirty past 
And hope for God's forgiveness
Though I know I deserve none. 

11 September 2017

Placed 3

POTD 12 September 2017

Form U - U Pick The Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017

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, ----- REMINISCING!
Sorry, if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying to remember, who I AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be, 
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 
Tell 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 to 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 listen, 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, food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' make me wear?
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty brownish red 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 "ON and OFF" buttons.
Time understand what I go through, my legs never felt this tired 
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path, 
I lose track of time when navigating my toes

Dear Time, 
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see more
Time,  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

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Sunlight

Sometimes I believe you
to be a vision, fading,
only a reflection of the
warmth I used to feel.
Today my memory of you
locked away within a
clenched mind, like grains
of sand perpetually
slipping through the cleft
of time. A memory scattered
along the highway of
despondent souls, soon
to be washed away by
the rising tide of oblivion!

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2010

Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

A Little House of Memories

It was a lovely little house.

Built of white painted timber,

with a gabled roof clad in green tin,

it had never been a rich person's house.

It was her house. 

And driving up to park outside it,

each time I went there, 

was like the beginning of a new adventure.

I would always enter by the rickety side gate

and walk through that small garden she tended to on weekends, 

in the hope that one day it might become beautiful.

The back door gave entry to her tiny kitchen where,

sometimes she would be,

baking scones or some other treat for her and me

to have later with some coffee or cheap red wine.

It wasn't a well designed house.

The bathroom and lavatory and laundry

weren't where you might expect.

And most rooms were very small. 

But for the living cum dining room.

And her bedroom. 

I never counted all the rooms in that house.

I'm not certain I even saw all of them.

But all of those I did see 

were furnished and decorated with pieces that she

had shopped for at garage sales

and in second hand shops.

Except for those things that she had made herself.

There were pictures she painted,

and other hand crafted knick-knacks.

And some bottles filled 

with interesting vegetable matter

embalmed in colourful oils and such.

It was a small house and a little quaint.

But beautiful.

And warm. 

Her bedroom was of a good size 

and her bed was large and sumptuous,

with a profusion of richly coloured cushions and pillows.

We'd discovered one another in that large bed,

in that good sized bedroom,

in that warm little house,

that still warms me with it's memories. 

For there was nothing inside that house

that she had not chosen.

Copyright © Red OMara | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Precious Moments

Cherry wood accents, glass entombed precious moments captured, enshrined antique curio cabinet, bring me back in time that porcelain doll, great gram's pearl painted piercing eyes still reflecting her love thoughts of Mimi, now in heaven above that vintage mantle clock, octagonal design all the years sitting on Dad's desk, can't remember the last time it ticked, but I still recall the nights watching you hard at work sitting and pondering over a pile of bills and letters oh how those days were so much better there are many different figurines and collector plates I can't even recall what they are there for But there is one picture I just can't get past I often stop and just stare wishing you were still here the little playful smile always lighting up a room when you walked in those deep caramel eyes, able look past all the smoke and mirrors deep into someone's soul oh how I long to hold oh how I long to feel oh how I long to be be one with you again

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

SHWEET LOVE

The minute our eyes met it was love at first sight I knew you were the perfect one for me my parents tried to keep us apart but I simply couldn’t let you go My father tried to persuade me are you really sure he’s the one? It’s not too late to change your mind… I smiled my sweetest smile - Dad knew when he was beaten I skipped out of the toy shop .... nestling in my arms, my birthday teddy bear! Contest –Free Verse Love Poem Sponsored By Laura Loo 07~24~15

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Remember

Remember that time Oh that smile that beautiful smile that little playful smirk tugging at my shirt waiting for me to ask you to dance That little blue skirt Cashmere sweater Your cheeks, bright red rouge batting your long silk eyelashes at me You were a flirt Remember that time My hands so clammy My heart a flutter Finally asking you to dance You took my hand Squeezing so tight Oh you were the perfect sight How can I not remember or can I ever forget that midnight blue polo shirt and that baseball hat It seems not long ago I wore flowers in my hair Ahh, that lavender breeze Close by, a carousel You raised your brow many a time I swear I caught you stare It seems not long ago but it's been thirty years or so when your steady hand got hold of my own And i never let it go I can still recall that winsome grin and butterflies churning within You asked me if I wanted to dance Stole my heart away and put me in a trance It seems not long ago but its been thirty years or so Your tremerous hand got hold of my own and I never let it go, no i never let it go

Copyright © Cupids Arrow | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

my solitary wandering


I savour silence and my solitary dreams, my wanderings
and in my candlelit room, I withdraw 
to my secret place and you
I have put on our wedding dance music
and I am travelling back, back in time with a sigh
I know what comes next and I want to weep with love
my dress is a cloud of red chiffon flowing, flowing
and you my darling, are in a black suit
soft the jazz music drifting in my meditation
did I put that music on or did it just come to me
you whisper in my ear, besome mucho, and I turn the page
back, back, I turn back the pages
we swirl onto the dance floor, twirling and dipping perfectly
and the red chiffon is beauty 
kiss me my darling your whisper or is that the music
your strong arms hold me tightly, oh I remember
and we are spinning, spinning, spinning
then the music is loud like thunder, roaring
  and you are fading
      our hands slipping
          then our fingertips
              and still we are spinning
                 until you are gone and I am alone
                            yet the music goes on and on

and in my candlelit room, I take a deep breath . . . 


__________________________________
February 5, 2016

Free Verse/my solitary wandering
Copyright Protected, ID 752594


July Standard Contest
sponsor, Brian Strand

Second Place
___________________________________
Submitted to the contest, Solitary Moments
sponsor, Mystic Rose

First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

the break of day

daybreak grounds me
the horizon blushes
an end to night's passion
as the dawn unfolds my dreams

it seems
you own my mind
all my thoughts tumble
like autumn leaves
in winded breaths
whispered through darkness

i dance gracefully 
in memories of you
blushed with a desire
i cannot explain
and linger
in the afterthoughts
as day breaks

Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Mosaic Memory

Frightend children under the baobab
Of elders discourse playing
At the deep edge of rites
Of passages
With no Atlantic dream.

There is a beauty here
Before the other world began
Forgetting its origin
And taste
Of white milk in black breast
Beautifully caressing
The tongue
Outside the jaws of greed.

The time of pyramids
Lolling 
On the golden sands
Full with the jewels of history
Civilizations gone
And dead sphinx to come
To Alexandria dreaming
Far from the distant 
Wonders of Timbuctu.

And after all that gain
Suddenly a flood
Of nothingness
Carrying totems
Of laughed animism
On children's head 
Like weed.

Stale rum sizzling
In the heat
Of deception
Crackle lies
The missionary and prelates of doom
Smile when the boom
Behind us burst
Crankling chains
Move to the shackle of the feet
The heart coffled
To the suddeness of defeat
Stared at the deception
That could not win
Without the foul
Practices bred in smoke filled bars
Of cold desolate 
places making a wave.

We come
From banks of river
Surety to insurance companies
For new ships
That carry us promisary notes 
Of golds to cotton and cane 
Replacing the earth hidden
Treasures
In a mother's bowels
We come 
Dying 
To change the mosaic to come
Into a place
Where you know may know
I am
The father of the race.

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |

SO WARM YET FAR AWAY



When night’s candles wax in the breeze, a glow draws near while dear ones are far I would scan places some miles away For in reveries they bask among the skies. So warm with wonder, bright with charm Could I but fix them beneath moon’s hues, Who do not let affections stray through time far beyond all limits of season's rails Many Miles Away Contest.. Roger Horsch by nette onclaud

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Sometimes I forget his name

Sometimes
I forget his name
there are cavities 
in love too

dark gaps 
in the cracking heart
where aching
doubt and memories 
pulsate.


© Gry W Christensen

Copyright © Gry Christensen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Shadowlands

One memory, found, has cradled this moment,
exquisitely composed with infinite detail.
Once lost with disease,
it is briefly retrieved,
just for this moment, before it is gone.

She smiles as she holds it,
as if it has pleased her,
a small golden flashback
to fondle awhile.

It came from the darkness,
like a small shaft of light,
on a small mote of dust
that has tumbled in flight

Poised in the sunlight
it has cradled the moment
But, then is forgotten
while it falls out of sight
back into the shadows
that cradle the night


________________________________________________
7/5/16
Contest: Cradling the Moment
Sponsor: Julia Ward

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Requiem

Call me not a child,
Treat me with adult words,
Eyes that scan the essence,
And see the centuries I have lived.
Ancient soul though young flesh, 
Half my heart remains in an older existence. 

I wish to feel the gentle,
The tenderness that comes with love,
Finger tips soft and feather like.
I yearn to feel the rough,
The firm grip of a lover,
Hands grasping hips in a fury of need.
Lips rubbing together in absence of a kiss. 

I need to speak of higher things,
realms that others fear to not believe,
And visions that we both have seen. 
Lie with me in clover beds,
Stars sparkling bright above our heads,
Birds swooping to deliver prey to young,
Eyes filled with awe at the world's cruel beauty. 

Lie with me in open thought,
Minds roaming over hills and sea,
Connecting to the world.
Releasing raw unadulterated energy,
Through just a simple touch,
Conscious spreading to the sky,
To flit like hummingbirds.

Call me not a child, 
For the things I have seen,
The memories I hold within,
Through one life to the next.
Falling, falling, down to the sea,
Bright sky, rolling green, 
sharp waves black, crash against the rocks,
Awaiting our meeting of fatality. 

Flowers high in weeds,
Grow up to itchy gowns,
And crunch beneath slipper-ed feet.
Corsets pulled tight,
Tight enough that I forget to breathe,
When in the presence of a man.
Blame the corset for my lack of breathe,
Though he steal it from my honeyed lips,
With not even a brushing kiss.
And a wedding band surprised,
Beneath a weeping willow,
With barely family enough to witness the event.

Four wheeled Slow rolling machine,
In comparison to today's technologies,
To ride a get away in sun lit heat. 
Black with shinning seats and room for four,
Or even five if they would squeeze. 
Two women, a daughter and a son, 
A life of running, identity hidden, 
Bolstered weapons for protection,
And an unending flow of cash.
Life seemed easy - at least when not being shot at.  

So call me not a child, 
For I have seen many years,
Felt the touch of lovers hands,
The cool of friends tears,
Felt the crashing waves,
As another life came to an end,
Spoke of many things,
And made otherworldly friends. 
Kiss my lips with fierceness, 
When I have yet again died,
I fear not the otherworldly,
So tell them not to cry.

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

My Perfect Storm

When brooding clouds conceal the sun, 
and drain the color from the trees
to spread it through the air, diffused,
like twilight coming early in the day, 

I remember with scents and sounds, 
when you and I would split the sky,
roll across rooftops with the thunder, 
and drench each other in the fury,

and in the midst of the deluge,
we held our breath and tried to hold time
cascading like waterfalls from our grasp, 
demanding to be released –

until everything just seemed to stop; 
our love died with the wind, 
my perfect storm had ceased. 

Now, when dark clouds move in, 
turbulent and unforgiving, 
lightning, flashing uncontrolled,
with rumbles reaching deep to stir – 
it’s then, that I remember. 

Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Where Laughter Lived

Do not come looking for me in
     small corners of our house
I am not there

The vast space we occupied
     where laughter lived
I left behind

The still place in our bed
     once radiating love
I sense its cold

Photoless frames, shattered glass
     a myriad memories
I will forget

Do not try to find me in the yard
     or in the snow of blossom
I once loved

Forget you ever knew the wrinkles
     around my mouth and eyes
I crumble

If you aim to memorize my face
     know it will fade in time
I lost you

In any place you find me drifting
     remember in your heart
I find you 

***

May 28, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Worlds Of Ice

Winter's whimsical nature comes with
     fickle freeze, cold pervading every fibre
How I remember you, red hot
     against the white snow
Smoking volcano
     against permafrost desolation
How your aura lingers in my brain
     fleeting perfume, breeze of ozone 
The sweet sweaty scent of long nights
     leathery lines grafted in my skin
The fragile steps we took, tension
     of our vulnerability in closeness
Sweet brokenness, tender hurt...
     Worlds of ice can not find my
Duvet of snowflakes, simulation of
     soft warm goose down
Mirroring remnants of our souls
     that sleep in dreamless reminiscence


***

May 17, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Memories - A Collaboration By Victor Buhagiar and Michael P Clarke

"Memories." 
A Collaboration By, 
Victor Buhagiar. 
& 
Michael P Clarke. (Vladislav Raven.) 


Memories stir from the winter of my mind
Tears of joy merging with tears of sorrow
Love fills my heart as the picture show begins
Memories stream is overflowing 
The canvas i paint with vision's perfection 
Beauty of you in nature's majesty
Held in my arms in twilight's grace 
Memories fall ever in movement's song 
I remember when we faced the icy breeze 
Together on that high craggy mountaintop. 
Silent snow covered all the summer grass 
Yet we were unusually warm and full of love. 
Alone. I look without really seeing 
At all the mountain peaks that rose around. 
Involuntarily I shouted "I'll love you always." 
The mountains echoed back my epitaph. 
Memories dance and echoes are singing
As the warm velvet dark enshrouds me


My thanks Victor for sharing some of your flowing ink with me in this collaboration. It has been an honour and a pleasure my friend.

Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Memories - A Collaboration By Victor Buhagiar and Michael P Clarke

"Memories" 
(A Collaboration By Victor Buhagiar. 
& 
Michael P Clarke. (Vladislav Raven.) 


Memories stir from the winter of my mind, 
Tears of joy merging with tears of sorrow. 
Love fills my heart as the picture show begins, 
Memories stream is overflowing. 
The canvas I paint with vision's perfection, 
Beauty of you in nature's majesty. 
Held in my arms in twilight's grace, 
Memories fall ever in movement's song. 

I remember when we faced the icy breeze 
Together on that high craggy mountaintop. 
Silent snow covered all the summer grass 
Yet we were unusually warm and full of love. 
Alone. I look without really seeing 
At all the mountain peaks that rose around. 
Involuntarily I shouted "I'll love you always." 
The mountains echoed back my epitaph. 
Memories dance and echoes are singing 
As the warm velvet dark enshrouds me. 


My thanks Michael for sharing some of your flowing poetry with me in this collaboration. It has been an honour and a pleasure my friend.

03/16/2017

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Thoughts Undressed

It’s all in there
     Somewhere inside my head
Every memory, every vision
     Every word I’ve ever said

There are certain times I can recall
     Certain moods that bring to mind
Precious, long past memories
     On which a light once shined

From the deepest, darkest crevice
     I’ll think of something dear
Old snap shots in black and white
     And always with a tear

I love those moods of deep connection
     With my life in thoughts undressed
It’s when I know without a doubt
     How much that I’ve been blessed


Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2017