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Archive Poems - Poems about Archive


Premium MemberThe Archive for Sour Sorrows

In the vault of sorrows, the lights are dim,
Memories dangle stiff, stark, cold and grim.
In glass-fronted vaults of remains half-dead,
Haunting to avenge losses, regrets and dread.

Bitterness is grit, dust and rust—
Metal relics wrapped in tempered crust.
Too sharp to hold, too old to appeal,
Scars embalmed, behind bars of steel.

Fur skins and feathered bones, long dead.
Eyes once
...
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Categories: archive, sorrow,
Form: Rhyme

Premium MemberThe Unfinished Archive

In lacquered boxes, six feet down,
Rest whispers of the unbought crown -
The paintings left in mental drafts,
The kindness stored away in crafts.

Between the satin folds they place
The morning walks at slower pace,
The letters crumpled, never sent,
The wild dreams left unbent.

A coffee-stained rejection slip,
The novel's pages, torn and ripped,
Three cigarettes crushed in despair
When winter stripped our
...
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Categories: archive, poetry, time,
Form: Rhyme



Garden Is Archive of Beauty

sound file birds voices
           in the eclectic garden
            amazing flowers
...
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Categories: archive, allegory, allusion, beauty, garden,
Form: Haiku

Archive 99

lines are 

pale, details...

sporadic

 

aureate filth

ensconces the 

casing.

 

tag yellow 

and withered

with time

 

yet...

bares the

twain figures 

 

number 99
...
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Categories: archive, write,
Form: Free verse

The Archive S

ARCHIVES
She stood captivating
So rustle and dusty
A sign of century of neglect
Here lies great treasure
The array of scroll marvelled me

I hurriedly departed my thirst so intent
The waterloo not as tormenting
Sea of tears danced down my face
I behold much treasure in crude

Time have been invested
Even breath have been laid
I can’t resist her pains
Why is she horribly kept?
...
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Categories: archive, education
Form: Verse



The Burning Archive I

At last the Grand Inquisitor said:
Let the archives burn.

The paper of history weighs us down.
Virtual memory will be the way from now.

A solitary voice rose in protest:
With our memories burn our hearts.

The Inquisitor acted swiftly:
He unleashed fires, controlled and savage,

Beneath the store houses,
Threw Molotov cocktails in libraries.

A billion pages of etched life
In minutes, memos, letters
...
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Categories: archive, history
Form: I do not know?

Book: Reflection on the Important Things