Best Remembers Poems
On day full of doom and gloom
With no strength to leave my room
With no hope to look towards light
With darkness closing in at night
I remember…..
When my heart floods with despair
Burdened by my load of care
When the rose has but a thorn
Wishing I were never born
I remember….
When no effort is worthwhile
On my face no trace of smile
When my heart does naught but weep
For a love I cannot keep
I remember….
I remember,
A kingdom in which I reign
Where I banish grief and pain
A kingdom where all is light
With rolling hills, verdant, bright
I tremble….
I smile, for I am a Queen
Only beauty can be seen
Fairies flutter to and fro
Peace and joy is all I know
I tremble….
Yes,
I tremble with sheer delight
My crown glows with heaven’s light
I am loved, and I am free
For a QUEEN resides in me
I remember!!!!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A poem dedicated to my friend, FLO Thomas, for her poem, The Kingdom of Ghali. I’m hiding away in my room, but the visit to this poem again, to this magical kingdom, brought a ray of light shining in. Love you, Flo! OXOXOXOXO I tease my family and friends that...I'm really a princess. I tell them, "Haven't you gotten that memo?" They all just laugh at me. Now...I have a wonderful comeback. "You won't even see the PRINCESS in me...on Poetry SOUP...I'm a QUEEN!!!!" Oh...the joy of virtual dreams!
Kindness goes a LONG LONG WAY!!!
mystic clouds at night
beneath an amber sun
casts a lovely glow..
her face illuminated
as tears freely fall
she trembles..
~as she remembers~
a sky of twinkling stars
which once guided her way
now dull, broken shards..
she falls to her knees
as the tide edges closer
cold and unforgiving..
his soft words
once a safe cocoon
now strife with contempt
~she sadly remembers~
she hugs herself tightly
rocking and wondering
where it all went wrong..
her heart is hurt
his loving friendship
touched her like no other..
~she tearfully remembers~
she opened herself up
with his gentle guidance
as best as she knew how..
his kindness moved her
with truth and with faith
for happiness she felt..
~she fondly remembers~
she knows her truth
as he feels his
the gift of his friendship..
~she will always remember~
Paint a Picture - 7-15-24 Image #1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Place to Remember
A wooden rocker remembers summer
Building sandcastles on distant sands
Wet towels, sunburns, sandy feet
Fireworks - s'mores; summer stars - barbecues -
Lullabies sung in its lap.
I'm a child of the '60's,
not quite a flower child,
never really a hippie
(though my ponytail
drove my uncle nuts!)
but still I ate the ever
crunchy Beatles for
breakfast, lunch, dinner
and roasted the Stones
whenever a lady came by.
I was free then or so
I told myself, free
to travel the world,
free to love and
then, inevitably,
always leave--
free to dream and
free to fail it seemed.
I owned only myself
but I owed no one--
both big mistakes
illusions really, for
we own nothing
save our souls,
we owe everything
to everyone, most
of all we owe God,
be we Baptist or
Hindu, Catholic or
Jew, Muslim or
atheist:we owe.
Most young ones
learn in time--
we are not free,
we are not strong,
we are not whole.
We hunger for
more than food,
we thirst for
more than water,
we need more
than money, and
we need more
than our minds.
We are the animal
never sated, never
full, never replete.
We are the animal
ever restless, sooo
easily bored, even
of life sometimes.
Is that why we argue
and fight, commit
pointless crimes,
end long marriages,
spurn our friends,
chase youth when
youth has become
less than a dream?
Is that really why
nations go to war,
because of boredom?
We do we always
feel we are missing
out on something?
Now that I am old,
I have no answers.
I thought I would
by now, I thought
I'd understand
myself, you, well,
everyone! And I
would know just
why I was so dumb
when I was young,
but I don't even
know why I am
so foolish old....
[written and posted 11/14/20]
The sky was blue, a beautiful day.
The sun sparkled bright on the water beyond.
She sat in the grass, admiring the display.
She wondered if there were fish in the pond.
Grey marble lined up in long, even rows.
Names and dates, husband, father, brother, son,
Wife, mother, sister, daughter; all of those.
She was still breathing but their lives were done.
Memories flood her mind like never before.
For twenty years they shared a life and love.
She lay on the grass, read his name once more,
With thoughts of him looking down from above.
I guess you know how much I still love you.
One day I’ll be there, to stroll heaven, too.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
My love has not diminished.
I would not want to pursue, evoke
feelings of shadowed prey or some craving
to a fabricated addiction… I accepted that
you had grown weary and would not want
that I linger or impede future chances
at love or romance.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
There is an ember
with a feverish desire
to burst into flames
at the simple mention
of your name.
It remembers…
the dance, the illusion,
the dream where all things good
existed in thoughts of you; everything
new was interwoven with the essence of you;
and wondrous passion irrefutably emerged like the
luminosity of sunrise continually on display.
Upon your arrival, eternity became mine,
and, in a flash, kaleidoscopic color
infiltrated mind, body, and soul.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
You became my reason.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
There is an ember
that hoped to fade away
in its assumption of
love’s retreat; rather,
it glows eternally
having never known
more profound
inspiration than that
sparked by you.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`
12/18/19
"Love Remembers Love"
When the love thieves arrived
in the darkness and
plundered my gypsy life
betrayal
sang songs
of sweetness
In the time when
the double-headed Jabberwock
thought I was deaf and blind
I had everything in place
Soothsayer'd over a decade ago
the heart gave assurances
to remain strong in silence
for the future’s errant child
to understand buried in the truth
there is always a way home
even when the protagonist is long gone
Love remembers Love
still sings to you its lullaby song
in the land of missing sons and daughters
muted words for the child to remain strong
a softness calls in the warrior
fierce and eternal
shadow poetry
calms the waters
to remember
always
Love's
Infinite Final Draft
what the good parents taught us
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
gvlm
Losing a loved one is never easy
The worst pain one has to endure
The ones left behind shattered
As their tears drop to the floor
Her last days wasn't easy
And it was hard to watch her fade away
So many prayers went up
For her to heal and begging God to make her stay
Though she lost her memory
You have memories of her to hold onto
And cherishing those memories
Is what will get you through
She has no pain
At a better place
And rest assured she was welcomed
By her fellow Angels' warm embrace
Up until the time she left
She forgot names and memories too
But when she left to go to heaven
All her memories came back
And she remembers you
Even while we sit waiting
Intimations of a new dawn
are beginning to cut through our darkness
Trouble, violence
and uncertainty
will surely fade
when light cuts through the clouds
Dawn promises many things
Above all a brighter future
than we thought possible
After every evening
the blood - red sun rises
It's rays cause us
to pulse with renewed life
The land awakens
A new day has come
We can rejoice now
As after a taste of death
We arise once more
A teenage girl, a bit of a flirt.
Lying on a beach blanket,
Yes, that one~ right over there!
Can you see that bubbling brunette?
Lays back down in her two piece,tartan,
bathing suit.
White-heart shaped glasses cover her eyes.
She rubs sun lotion on her dancer's thighs.
He cannot see her watching his physique ...
his gold, skin glistening, muscular and tweaked.
Only to the sound of far-off, roaring speed boats,
does he listen.
That summer day, so very long ago.
From which her heart....never took a furlough!
7/2/2021
the river forgets
each stone it
k i s s e s
g
o
o
d
b
y
e
yet.....
the stone remembers
Manchester remembers,
The twenty-two lives that were taken,
Two years on,
Their memories never to be forsaken,
Manchester remembers,
Not just the twenty-two,
Prayers go out to the survivors,
Thoughts are with all of you.
Manchester remembers,
How the City came together,
A force to be reckoned with,
No matter who, what or whether.
Manchester remembers,
The feeling of disbelief,
In the aftermath the city bonded,
Consoling those wracked with grief,
Manchester refused to quit,
Manchester stands tall,
Manchester remains strong,
Manchester remembers them all.
Written: August 14, 2025
************
River answers cloud with shimmer, and cloud
with a hush that folds into silver—
a breath that rises through its forgetting,
still and wild, akin to an unspoken name.
Between echo and echo, intellection
unbuttons its syntax,
and the ancient self thins.
into filaments of looking.
Now the wind tunnels through the reeds,
Now dusk unthreads the horizon.
Stones lean inward. Five crows
arrive as verdicts in the birch canopy.
Owls blink—eyes such a rusted lanterns—
and twilight drips from their wings.
The empty skiff moves back and forth.
It's a low hum in the current.
a resonance that deepens
until it chimes with absence.
When it docks, the message it carries
is an apology, folded in dusk.
And so, as a glint of practiced grace,
The day’s last gold recedes.
in the hills behind our silence.
What I wish from you tonight
is not comfort, but a touch
that remembers the storm.
I wish your breath to lift my name.
same as ash from the altar—
to feel, when your fingers trace
the fault lines in my chest,
our empire of longing
crumble into wilderness.
Above us, the planets slip.
as secrets across the dark,
and the stars, pale and multiplying,
defy the night with their stillness—
defining its scrap
by refusing to move.
I met ANGIE in a bar where grief drank quiet,
where HONKY TONK WOMEN spilled perfume and regret.
She moved like WILD HORSES with nowhere left to run—
said, “I’m safer UNDER MY THUMB than out in the open.”
She kissed like a dare and left like smoke.
On RUBY TUESDAY, she vanished into rain,
murmuring, “YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT,”
and I didn’t even try to stop her.
She used to laugh when we lost at TUMBLIN DICE,
but the last time she smiled, she was already gone.
I tried to PAINT IT BLACK, but some songs keep bleeding.
The Rolling Stones still hum behind my ribs.
Every track she touched skips now—
her chorus etched in static.
She didn’t take her coat,
just the part of me that knew how to stay warm.
The sea was a whisper before it was water,
cleaved through the wind.
I stepped into its silver mouth,
waves curling something pressing in
a wistful longing for a past I never knew.
Seagulls traced ethereal designs across the expanse
their wails scattered like fragments.
Somewhere underneath the foam,
the past was fossilized within sedimentary strata
waiting for my hands to delve deep enough to find it.
The tide came in more forcefully
and I thought of to how love in this way
always arriving, always leaving---
sometimes tender, sometimes intense enough
to split the coast in two.
When it ebbed, it left behind more than remnants of a disaster,
it embodied the ideal I sought;
calmed by the steady undulations of the sea,
gleaming in calmness;
as if the tide dredged up
on the verge of being forgotten.