From the day I was conceived God had for me a plan - He wanted me to get involved to help
my fellow man - I know some were against it but God knows what is best - Since the day He
took me home I've had perfect rest - Heaven is so beautiful - I'm walking streets of gold and
now I'm serving others including saints of old - I know some still have anger about the way I
died but God and I both have seen the many tears you've cried - He is a God of comfort - His
love will never cease - Give your feelings to Him and He will give you peace - As painful as I
know it is please don't hold a grudge - Remember this my loved ones - God alone will judge
Then on that resurrection day when all the dead will rise - The Lord will reunite us together in
the skies - So don't give up dear friends - my memory is alive - Put your trust in the Lord
and I know you will survive.
In Memory Of All Fallen Soldiers, Police and Firefighters
Copyright © Joye Atkinson | Year Posted 2009
Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream
Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
the mighty Big Red.
And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were
known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
add to Big Red’s might.
I stand in awe of Sooner Magic. No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
glorified the name.
Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
They play the game.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...
While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving
You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...
Goodbye My Love...
Copyright © Andrew Shannon | Year Posted 2013
Now when I think of you
I remember the last years
You helped me to recover
A place I never could have reached
Showing me the true love of my mother
No matter how hard I pushed away
By my side you would stay
You helped through my hardest time
Forgiving my life's mistakes
Devoted yourself to my recovery
We grew closer than I ever remember
We had moments together
That will last forever
I still can't believe
When I recovered
The fatal illness
You were diagnosed
That would take you from us
But my memories will never be taken
As I pass the cemetery walls
To see your final resting place
You will always be on my mind
Kneeling here I think...
Are you watching over me
From someplace far beyond
Copyright © Matt Forshay | Year Posted 2015
ye lamhe ye yaade ankho me basa ke,
tum to chale jaoge apne din ajmake,
teri yaad reh jayegi in nam ankho me,
tere pyar bhare jajbat chalak ayenge tanha rahon me.......
wo yaro ki batein,wo apas ka pyar,
kav mitha to kav kadwa sa takrar,
wo roommate se jhagadna,
phir usipe hak se rob jhadna,
wo warden aunty ki dant,
phir unpar makkhan bhari baton ki barsat,
wo rat rat bhar gappe ladana,
or class me late attendance banwana,
class me lectures se jyada teachers ki harkaton pe dhyan dena,
or hostels akar unki khilli udana(kehna yaar unka lecture to kuch palle hi nahi padta),
wo exam ke 1 din pehle xerox ke liye jhagadna,
or na chahte hue v doston ke ache marks ane pe khush hona,
wo sixth sem ke result ka ana,
or ek taraf supersenior hone ki khushi
to dusri taraf college chodne ke gam ka satana....
ab wo farewell party ki rat or masti ki barsat,
ankho me chalke ansu or hothon ki muskan kam,
ye sb yaad kr lena tum,
jab kav lage tumhe apne jivan me hasin pal kam..........
ye hai humare college ki choti si duniya ki choti si kahani kasamagam......
Copyright © anchal anand | Year Posted 2013
Oh how I wish
I could set free
the native American Indian
with pride and dignity
taking them back
across the great open plains
to their sacred home
in the lush green vallies
where buffalo are plentiful
so the Indians can live in peace
one with nature once more
where the eagles soar
setting them free as the wind
wild untameable as a magnificent stallion
running toward the setting sun.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2013
You stand there oh so tall,
bringing shame to those
who came before you
and still you expose
Their greatest weakness
is that they can’t compare
to your silhouette
and no it’s not fair.
They try to make me happy,
thinking maybe one day
she’ll see through this shell and
see the color beyond this grey.
Sadly, they are mistaken
there is no other that can make
my heart a broken record
and still I find it breaks.
a golden mane,
my eyes are blurred
I forgot your name.
Like Atlas you grasp
my world in your palm
I sing of you now and then
as though you were a psalm.
You’ll always be there.
Never will you leave,
the magical memory
Copyright © Veronica Andemariam | Year Posted 2014
Ode to the Netherlands
Oh, Netherlands, I remember you well
the beautiful cities I came to know
Brukelen, Haarlem, Utrecht and Zeist
as a younger man in search of lore
the blue canals along the street
the Amsterdam bistros where people meet
my nederlandse friends and Indonische love
a culture blended with the best of beers
Is it the same as I recall
when Queen Juliana ruled with great aplomb
in the fifty six years I have been there since
bloom on forever , Oh, Kuekenhof
and flow on, Oh, Zuiderzee
My heart will always be with thee
Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2014
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.
Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.
Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.
Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.
My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.
Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Called to me… before
…Ever had a chance
…Left its mark on me.
Claiming my soul as its own
Snuffing that glorious spark
That never grew.
Leaving nothing left
For this world
But a hollow vessel
That this world
Has filled with sorrow.
Copyright © Amanda brown | Year Posted 2015
Our Last Song
As a little girl:
my grandpa.. would
take me to Ruby Tuesday’s..
there we would share two straw’s
as he slurped
and I sipped a Shirley Temple..
for me he would always ask
the bartender to bring a bowl
brimful of cherries so I could eat them on my own..
“Isn't she the cutest little thing?” he would say
to the bartender, who smiled and nodded,
and continued pouring more gentleman there glasses of
wine, or whisky.
the cubes of ice would stir in my glass cup
that became too cold for my little palms to
touch.. so he would wrap napkins around
the glass.. so we could spend eternity- right there
at that little table.
while we waited for our food to come,
mine always being a peanut-butter and
strawberry jelly Sandwich.. although it was
simple and could be made at home-
he never questioned it.. he only smiled.
his bear hugs.. they still
remain.. the cozy feeling
of being in his arm’s was a reassuring moment
I could never forget.
We hummed “Let it Be, by John Lennon.”
he always sang the low parts…
with his deep baritone voice.
and my verse was always,
“And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me.
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”
my soft sound was melodic.. and touching when we both sang together in harmony.
strumming the chords of peace
while we sang together.
and forevermore my grandpa..
who always used a maine accent..
and wore a smile of glee upon his face…
who loved me unconditionally..
like no love I had ever known;
will always be in my memories..
from one kindred spirit to another
I know my message to you grandpa..
will ring thru your ear’s in the chords
of our last song.
Copyright © Madison Demetros | Year Posted 2017
Phantom toe. Phantom toe. Where art thou? It used to be there. You still cause me pain but don't exist. A faint memory or a mystery....I ponder this at times. Seems 10 toed brothers refuse to understand the perplexity. Their loss. My loss.
Copyright © Dave Reynolds | Year Posted 2012
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
Windy and her cousin Flo
Went down to the rodeo
The cows were walking on the moon
They hadn't seen the crack of noon
Floyd got his fiddle out
They danced the night away
I can't remember anything
I don't know what to say
Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2015
You never changed, the love you'd bring,
To home or center stage
Your music flowed and the afterglow,
Still brightens up our days
Sweet child of His, you will be missed
But in our hearts... we know
You now sing for your great King
You always loved Him so
Protected by copyright
Copyright © Chuck Melugin | Year Posted 2017
As bright as the sun's mysterious rays
When I close my eyes I can hear her heartbeat
The rapid pounds and throbs,
loud as a drum while we lie in complete silence
She is elegance
Her skin is smooth like well threaded silk
She is quiet like the trees in the forest
Her beauty speaks volumes
I see her in my dreams
The signs are quite clear, but
my mind remains hazy like the smog that pollutes the lives of so many
Oh, how I wish I knew her!!!!
Copyright © Jaquay Atkins | Year Posted 2016
The passion of the soul
there is no stronger force
that surges through our veins
alive in breathless winds
and gentle seas
the spirit soars
but living strong within our hearts
For the passing of a young man passionate for life, sea and surf...
and my son's childhood friend...
Copyright © valerie bellefleur | Year Posted 2013
We were all saddened to learn of the death this week of one of our hardest working citizens. SOMEONE ELSE. When SOMEONE ELSE died it created a huge void in our community that will be difficult to fill. SOMEONE ELSE was with us for many years. SOMEONE ELSE always did far more than a normal person's share of the work. Whenever there was a job to do, overtime to pull, or a meeting to attend. One name was always on everyone's lips. "Let SOMEONE ELSE do it". Whenever there was a need everyone just assumed that SOMEONE ELSE would volunteer. It was common knowledge that SOMEONE ELSE was the hardest worker in our community. SOMEONE ELSE was a wonderful person who often appeared superhuman. In all honesty. Everyone expected to much of SOMEONE ELSE. So now that SOMEONE ELSE is gone, what will happen to our schools, our children, our churches, our community. SOMEONE ELSE left a marvelous example for us to follow. But now who is going to do the work SOMEONE ELSE did. Will it be you. Or will it be SOMEONE ELSE. c. Rodney Mendoza
Copyright © Rodney Mendoza | Year Posted 2015
I had hoped there would be a 50th class reunion for my class of 67.
Instead, I got word the other day that Aggie High is closing its doors.
For four years, I was taught by some of the finest teachers in America.
For four long years, I filled your library, classrooms, and walked your hallways.
I was challenged and succeeded in math and was greatly inspired by my Biology Classes. I was arrested and captured, moved and mesmerized, by my charismatic History teacher. I even listed on your honor roll and sang in your very respected and talented choir.
I moved away 50 years ago and unfortunately, I have visited you only two or three times since. Just a few months ago, I was privileged to dialogue via telephone with my Art teacher's wife. Perhaps he knew of your coming closure, but he wasn't home to inform me.
O Aggie, I am sadden by the news, but I have come to understand such matters. O Aggie, it's interesting that you have joined a long list of changes and closures in my life. It's also interesting that things I once thought would be history, instead are now current events. Furthermore, it's interesting that, like many of my past acquaintances, I always get little warning.
O Aggie, all things have beginnings and endings, but know this: you have been a launching pad and a gallant educator, rocketing many of us to the stars. What you have instilled in us is forever credited to your account. You have fought a good fight, and your course is near the finish.
My eyes are getting watery Now. So I must cease and desist, lest my proud and tender memories of you get the best of me.
04082017 PS Contest, Paschal Premier, Brian Strand
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017
An ode to.......
Drifting through my mind like an elemental
You seem a waking dream of color and light
The moments are spontaneous and incidental
Only remnants illuminated particles of plight
Devastation it lingers the pain is instrumental
Spasms scarring and blurring my vision white
Mingled with words the effects detrimental
The breath of reason with wings take flight
Leaving my dreamlike thoughts fragmental
The days bleed and fuse to the dark of night
The voices lost in anger always judgmental
Lingering in confusion and madness in delight
Jealousy burns the soul but only incremental
Eternal seems the burden internal is the fight
The scope of my part denial is monumental
Truth to me is a dream no longer in my sight
The intent not intended the result accidental
Sadness weighed heavy with a warriors might
My young heart was scared and temperamental
In my leaving in my heart I know I wasn’t right
Years stream by our love glows in the sentimental
Its resonance beckons memories of you held tight
Heartfelt lush dreams of our love transcendental
Longing from afar as my words fade like candlelight
Copyright © Drakavai the Wordsmith | Year Posted 2013
Are you here?
left before autumn brokedown.
Days I began to live will be missed.
But I'll bring flowers for you.
Can you hear?
I was just a figure,No one wanted me.
A homeless,anytime to be dissolved.
But you paused by me.
Ageless you'll be !
For I says you riched with golden love.
Like the sweetest mango from the garden.
Inspired many by your soul.
Yearnd nothing before.when you lived.
The only wish is for you from me.
May soul embrace by thickness paradise.
Your love will be made a tale.
Motherly wings everyone would wish.
Like a book you'll inspire.
With love,son bobo
Copyright © k.c chophy | Year Posted 2017
Dark, enigmatic, created world
The natural realm of fairies and elves
Visited untimely by children of men
Heroes, saviors, and spirits undone
Fantasy lives inhumanly lost
Behind unsung valorous deeds
Smoky breathed creatures of tooth and scale
Crossing the boundaries of nearly impossible
Slain by strange power
Destroyed by bright courage
In fiery desperation wrought
Lo, where are the dragons now.
Copyright © Ginna Wilkerson | Year Posted 2006
Do you want to hear a story, perhaps an anecdote or two . . .
There is a place to do it, when life caves in on you.
There is a group of people who share their lives today . . .
I found them only by happy circumstance, as I was traveling this way.
They get together once a month, to tell tales of their past . . .
Each one in their particular way have stories that will last.
Each one could talk for hours on end, and there would be no lulls . . .
For the times and places they have been, are etched upon their souls.
Their pleasure in remembering is a joy to all who hear . . .
We like to listen to the tales they tell, they give us all a cheer.
The lives they have led, the people they've known, the places they've been to . . .
Are celebrated with us each month, as if we'd been there too.
The moments in time that in our hasty lives, we often will forget . . .
Are cherished now as memories, especially the ones we seem to fret.
Memories, I know, are not for us alone and need to be shared . . .
Even the ones we don't want to think on, the ones that made us scared.
The stories they share with us are not just a reason for rhyme . . .
But I wanted each of them to know, how much I enjoy this time.
Because of them, I have remembered so many things of my own past . . .
Times that I'd forgotten, but have come back to me at last.
The darkest corners of memory are brightened by their chat . . .
I, for one, know I will always be grateful for that.
Our thought are put in new perspective - even the darkest ones we save . . .
But however dark and grim they are, as memories they behave.
To all the MEMORY MAKERS present and past who grace us all this way . . .
This rhyme is for you, "Thank You" for sharing your lives with us, past, present, and today.
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
Tea with Gran,her muffins supreme,
Bath and change and hair brylcreamed.
into town to the pub in the square,
our gang always met there.
Checking the football scores
in the Oxford 'green un'.
Trad jazz with Donegan,Bilk or Collier
or maybe the ballroom bacchanalia.
Skip,hip-hop or jive or more sedately
to the Friday Five.
A swift half of cider in the Bodega bar
sadly none of us could afford a car.
Dropping a shilling in the snug juke
box,Haley and Elvis,then unorthodox.
Bought tickets for the coming live shows,
Cochrane,Cliff and Shadows.
Later, at the dance the last waltz about
to begin,if you were fancied ,it
showed in her coy grin.
Requesting a date took a little courage,
so glad my choice that day,led
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2017
#How could I forget#
How could I forget your widely smiling face,
Your warm enwrapping hugs, your frequent gifts of grace,
Before your brilliant mind, which used to dazzle bright,
Gave way to Alzheimer’s dark unrelenting blight.
How could I forget, the end was very soon,
Surprised, you said to me, “Oh, I remember you!”
The jumbled words you spoke, I couldn’t understand,
But never did I doubt that kind was your intent.
How could I forget you hosting mini-church
Inside your modest home, inviting all to perch.
To our great God, you’d sing, and quell all spirits bleak,
Answer sticky questions, with gentle, Christ-like peace.
How could I forget how you and wife stood by,
When gulping her first breath, my daughter started life.
Your good face she saw, her first few hours on earth,
Look how she’s all grown up and echoes Mama’s mirth.
How could I forget you blessed my second son,
Born fifteen months before, he had hair like setting-sun.
You touched him on his head, and prayed that God would bless,
Protect this lil’ guy, and limit his life’s mess.
How could I forget, when you and lovely wife,
Brought us Christmas dinner, blessed my first son’s life.
T’was sweetest time we had, while sharing baby news,
Your refreshing humor helped vanquish baby blues.
How could I forget the night my man proposed,
T’was in your living room, and you did not oppose.
The fireplace was lit, my man was on his knee,
While looking into my eyes, said, “Will you marry me?”
How could forget, when I was just a teen,
I called up you and wife, said needed place to flee.
“I’ll pick you up in ten,” you said, didn’t hesitate.
You shared with me your home; three months you let me stay.
How could I forget, when I was six years old,
Broke Christmas ornaments. You didn’t treat me cold.
So hard I tried to help - you move from house to house.
Yet, seeing broken glass, you didn’t brand me louse.
How could I forget, when first I did meet you,
Though I was just age five. T’was at a picnic do,
Held at Alondra park, And standing in sun’s glare,
Your wife held up a sign, said, “Picnic over there.”
No, I will not forget, I’ll see you ‘gain one day.
I’ll say a proper thanks, as God wipes tears away.
We’ll have that cheery chat; your words won’t go awry,
'Cause now you clearly speak, at home above the sky.
Dedicated to Roger H., who passed away Valentine's day, 2017
Copyright © Hannah Rain | Year Posted 2017