Best Broodings Poems
Memories are nostalgia not,
Nor broodings of the ought.
Just wispy peeks of the past,
High cirrus clouds gone passed.
Memories relive good times,
A photo found, rings the chimes.
A memory spark, an impasse,
A departed era, seen through the glass.
Fondly I recall my youth,
Places I lived, lost a tooth.
High school desks, my steady girl,
The one who made my heart swirl.
Of memories that emerge,
There are some that I purge.
Solely good ones do I seek,
At only those will I peek.
Over time, my world did change,
Important things did re-arrange.
Still it’s warm, with breeze and sun,
But some I’ve lost, one-by-one.
Some I loved and would never lose,
Now remain only when I muse.
I cherish moments I have left,
The clicking clock far too deft.
The present is our only shot,
Withholding love is for naught.
Each day I wonder, is it my last?
With each blink, the now is past.
Forget things that make you sad,
Forgive all who made you mad.
Make memories and be glad,
Love family, especially dad.
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Note: this poem is also on Vimeo: https://vimeo.com/437912020
Shut inside windows open w i d e
I age 1,000 years
To your one.
The Past turns in its light circles upon the Present,
Inscribing itself into memories
That will lend their textures to the future -
Pains and pleasures
Loves and losses
The bitter and the sweet -
All will fall together and become tomorrow,
Then break apart and cycle on again.
Outdoors, beyond a window full of November clouds
A child is running gaily past,
While up the street with ancient, measured tread
A crone approaches.
Youth and Age will pass and cycle 'round again.
I turn gray thoughts over in my mind
Composing poems as my significant others
Drift in and out of the rooms of my life,
Now babe Now child Now youth Now adult
Now gone
Friends and lovers help weave the warp together,
Light and shadow chase each other through the rooms,
Whispering the secrets of change.