Best Forgetting Poems
Forget the one that you once knew,
Remember that he left you.
Forget the way he played your song,
Remember that you cried all night long.
Forget the way you memorized his walk,
Remember that he is not there to talk.
Forget the things he use to say,
Remember he has gone away.
Forget the way he held your hand,
Remember you could barely stand.
Forget the way he took away your fears,
Remember nothing could stop your tears.
Forget how you wanted him forever,
Remember he said he loved you never.
Forget the way he held you tight,
Remember you are all alone tonight.
Forget the time that went so fast,
Remember the love has left its past.
Forget he said he’d leave you never,
Remember he is gone forever.
I'm hardly awake
and I start to quake.
If I should choose
to switch on the news,
a message of doom
deepens my gloom.
From delusion to delusion
a world in confusion
tumbles and stumbles
as everything crumbles.
Then I see Sally
and hope starts to rally.
She's only seven
and a present from heaven.
I then hear a tweet
and sorrows retreat.
The sight of a dove
reminds me of love.
What was about this face ?
Between mirage and actuality ?
A fireball was coming towards you.
You upturn the underside,
wanted to taste the blood
and get argasm.
The statues were posing nude.
Mothers were clad in leaves.
Fruits were the greed of man.
I refuse to lie in state. The
sand grains will find the innocence
of silver breasts when sky will
spat a murder. Were you ready
now to become corrupt ?
At last the beginners are now
becoming the boots.
Satish Verma
Forgiveness wasn’t Forgetting
Written: by Miracle Man
12-2-2019
At seventeen I saw something,
that I’ve always regretted seeing.
Causing me to leave home early,
some wondering why I was fleeing.
Both parties have long since passed,
to whom this concerns.
But at times I see this picture,
that in my mind still churns.
This happening long ago,
I avowed I was forgiving.
But sixty-five years later,
I find this picture, I’m reliving.
To this thought altering act,
I’ve been a periodic slave.
Since I’m the only living witness,
it goes with me to my grave.
Were they sorry for their deed,
or that they were caught.
One sought God’s forgiveness,
for the pain that was wrought.
Though this was something,
perhaps both parties had regret.
Now I question my forgiveness,
when I’m unable to forget?
The bed is too big.. the air is too small
I stare at my phone waiting for you to call
I still keep a picture of you on my wall
I still wear your hoodie with the sleeves on and all
The distance between us cuts like a fillet
The memories of you.. they start to decay
The scent of your shirt has almost gone away
I haven’t left my bed since you left that Sunday
Still tracing the shadows that live on my ceiling
So numb to this life and devoid of all feeling
Unanswered prayers but I’m still out here kneeling
My heart shatters silently.. is it even healing?
I miss you the same way the stars miss the sky
My soul’s missing pieces but I never knew why
All I hear is ‘get over it and find the next guy’
Telling me to move on but I’d much rather die
Because forgetting you is like forgetting the sun
No one can compete when you’ve already won
There’s no other man who can do what you’ve done
I can’t quit your love, can’t you see you’re the one?
I am forgetting things now—
names once bright as summer roads,
addresses written in the dust of memory,
the reason I entered a room.
Age has quickened its pace.
Bad health sits beside me at the table,
a silent guest who never leaves,
and still I strike another match,
still I light another cigarette,
as if smoke could bargain with time.
Yet while I sleep
I can still enter some dreams.
There are rivers there,
old houses standing whole again,
the dead speaking softly from porches,
and fields where the years
have forgotten to pass.
Morning returns
and the mirror remembers more than I do.
The old age homes are too expensive,
their doors guarded by numbers
I cannot reach.
So I remain here,
with the sunlight on the floorboards,
the birds beyond the window,
the worn chair that knows my shape,
and the slow turning of the seasons.
I have misplaced many things.
A little strength.
A little breath.
A little of myself.
But not gratitude.
For I loved the blessing of life.
The rain upon a roof.
The scent of fresh coffee.
The hand of a friend.
The beauty of a tree standing alone
against an evening sky.
If memory must leave me,
let it go gently,
like autumn leaves crossing a quiet yard.
And let the last thing remaining be this:
that I was here,
that life was a gift,
and that I was thankful for it.
i will forget you
just as i have forgotten my first kiss
and third grade teacher
you will be forgotten
and sent into the backyard of my mind
and forbidden to return
i will turn away from the push cart
with purple asters
and ignore gazebos and river walks
i will not go where people mingle in twos
and where apple blossoms touch the air
i will be too busy forgetting you
nothing will be related to you
not the key hook you forced into the wall
or the tablecloth you scorched
because you turned for a kiss
everything will be what it is
without a remnant of what was you
i will forget you
even when dreams resurrect us
and you take vengeance in your absence
i was forgetting you with another
but saw the baby robin peak from its nest
and excitedly said, “carol, look!”
i will forget you
through every temptation and hint
daisy fields and haystacks
the first green suggestion of spring
you returning to bed for “just a minute”
i will forget you
but not just now
Whilst we are raindrops,
we forget we are water.
The past will always be past
no memory can make it return
better to leave it at your back
separate from it's effect leave it to spurn
Turn your eyes moving forward
look forward in avid anticipation
take your whole self step by step
making it a special real occasion
Fill yourself with confident assurance
don't let anything remove your hope
show others that you're a changed person
ready to pull your own rope
Nothing can move your new stand
victorious and firm to the end
holding yourself togethrer as concrete
giving the impression unable to bend
So go and move on
no hesitation no retreat
you'll be glad afterwards
when the past will be beat
The art of forgetting is the art of remembering
For what you are thinking now is something you’re learning new
And when you just remember that you forgot something
You’re not just forgetting
You are remembering at the right time
The art of forgetting is the art of forgiving
The art of remembering is the art of knowing
For when you just remember
You are remembering that you know
The art within knowing is to know and forgive
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Loving you was a mistake
Missing you was my flaw
My heart ached
Left my heart raw
Look at you
You thought it was a game
I wasted my time with you
Missing you was lame
Love meant nothing to you
Getting over you was hard
Love means something to me
Next I will have my heart on guard
You’re the reason
My heart was broken
I am glad
You have not spoken
I have changed
I do regret
Ever falling for you
But I’m not ever you yet
The sound of your voice seems so clear
The silence is defining but there Is no fear
The splinter in my mind can never come out
I open my mouth and scream but no one hears the shout
I walk upon the path but never leave a step
I fall forever but I know I never ever lept
I toil with a question but never get a reply
I have no wings but I still manage to fly
I bleed all day but never loose a drop
My heart is broken but will the beat ever stop
I listen to music but never hear a thing
The feeling of loosing you always makes my ears ring
Darkness falls with the break of sunlight
Forever e touch with hands out of sight
Searching for time with no sand in the glass
Temporarily heartbroken knowing it will always last
A new story to be written even though the book is shut
Falling on my sword never causing a single cut
Wasting away with a new life born
Words of torment but none to scorn
Rivers of tears but never once cried
Learning to live forgetting I've already died
My demons: are awakened;
They're lurking around inside my mind
I've become so bitter, shaken
These demons somehow keep me blind.
These demons are trying to get at me;
Throwing obstacles in my way
My writing these words, be mistaken
But it's just my demons wanting to play.
I find myself in grips by my demons;
As if they had chains on me
Thunderous yelling at myself
In the mirror that sat on the shelf.
Gaps in time unaccounted for;
Missing what had just taken place
I know I have some memory problems, face it
But, this is more like it's Alzheimer's disease.
There are these days I forget my name;
And there isn't anything to blame
Sometimes forgetting where I am
Or are these my demons trying to shame me again.
Writing of this makes me uneasy;
I keep telling myself or is this reasons
I ought to choke you to make them stop;
Sometimes, I think my head is going to pop.
Well, I’m moving on, you know.
I’m forgetting you; I thought that -
the whole day.
riding the waves and forgetting
erasing the thought of time from my mind
becoming one with nothingness and it delight
God is here wading in the water with me
riding the waves and forgetting
being taught that i am not the only one
becoming even more schooled of the many facets of relaxation
God is here wading in the water with me
riding the waves and forgetting
looking forward to forward looking
becoming content with the clear definition of Me
God is here wading in the water with me
riding the waves and forgetting
finding the true meaning of blissful serenity
uncovering the secret to the marine vibrations of divinity
God is here wading in the water with me
riding the waves and forgetting
clearing my head of any dark, dreary thoughts
removing the blanket that i allowed to blockade my every view for way too long
God is here....wading in the water with me....