It feels like yesterday,
when your tiny hand held my finger and ran.
You would steal my glasses,
wear them proudly, and say,
“Daddy, I look just like you!”
Between the pages of my books,
you built little homes for your dolls.
Whenever I left for work,
you stood at the door and whispered,
“Come back soon, Daddy…”
With the little coins in my pocket,
I bought you chocolates—
those simple days
were richer than anything I own today.
Yesterday, you walked holding my hand;
today, you walk your own road.
When I remember your mischief,
a smile touches my face,
while tears quietly fill my eyes.
My daughter, you have grown up,
but inside my heart,
you are still that little girl
running with her tiny braids.
No matter how far you go,
the sound of your footsteps
will forever echo
inside your father’s heart.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ hoard of treasure ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ against the door,
Full of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ lifetime's garnered store -
¦¦¦ pleasures crowned with ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ zest,
¦¦¦ sorrow ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ penance blest,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ remembrance ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ of yore
¦¦¦¦¦ like a new evangel, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ halting ¦¦¦¦ toward the best.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ barren after years
¦¦¦ bring ¦¦¦ joy or sorrow, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ knowing not, who cares? ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ we ¦¦¦¦¦ find ¦¦¦ pleasures and ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ remembered childhood ¦¦¦¦ thro' tears,
The best ¦¦¦ Heaven and ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ Hell.
(Blackout of Sonnet III by William Shakespeare)
The day he found the sausage
is a day I’ll not forget
Another piece of childhood
that is permanently set
The sausage had been purchased
while he was on a trip
Shoved way back, forgotten
til he got back from the ship
The shouting was ear-shattering
I didn’t understand
My Father screamed while holding-up
the sausage in his hand
He ranted it was sinful
Muslim law forbid they eat
Any type of pig or swine
or any pork type meat
He flung it out the window
and it made it past the yard
Landing on the synagogue
where pork was also barred
Then from the kitchen window
I watched the crows appear
And feast upon the sausage sweet
so far and yet, so near
I knew it wasn’t Kosher
could evil lightning spark
Should we tell the Rabbi
as the sky was getting dark
If they found the sausage
they would never know the why
Of how religious rage took hold
and made the sausage fly
Back when we were small,
Everything felt true
Since at that time
We were experiencing something
Fresh and new.
We didn't pay attention to life's worries;
We didn't care,
For the real world was wide
And our happiness bare.
Our mentors seemed
To have had their lives figured out.
Yet, they were the ones that needed
Proper guidance and bring about.
Every fun, every trip,
Every single memory
Tug at a piece of us;
Something that takes a long time
For recovery.
The day arrived
When the light and hearty pride
That was rooted in our hearts
Disappeared.
For the clock began to sprint
And the easy seasons died
As we stood infront of the real world,
Our innocence denied.
So let us enjoy the moment
Instead of living at a different timeline
Because while we focus on one problem,
This period might also slip by.
Those familiar faces of the days far bygone,
The curious, eager looks and the mind blank,
Sometimes, nay ,often haunt and then dawn
On one ,when casual life plays a wont prank ;
And capricious events and happenings drive
The credence ,faith and the sanity to deprive .
The tears in those little gleaming,narrowed eyes
Meant nothing, yet something of pain for sure ,
While the plain empty smiles beamed otherwise
Of retreat or return to the shell and to endure;
The feel of relieving content being just denied
To the little ones who morph as they are pined
To cry and groan till the wail stretches and yond,
And settle with the helpless sigh of exhaustion ;
With some toy or sign for a change ,or a fond
Apt relation to regain the realm of lost caution;
To self-console and revive ,the in drawn shy one
Transforms its own existence to keep up the run
Possessions and life secure centred in the core
Of fear infinite and abstract ,ever trying to aver
And to drive the hurt tender soul to slyly abhor ,
Not knowing the upright from the unjust fervour,
Picking up random values,seeking things sugary,
The stern phase of childhood slinks in to memory
When I grow up I shall live,
Dance in snow on Christmas eve.
I shall learn to blow bubbles,
And cause all sorts of troubles.
As the clock strikes twelve each year,
I hope I am almost there.
Waiting for life to break bread,
Till I lay on my death bed.
I miss my old room
it was nice being in a small space
at least i could call it mine
mine mine mine mine mine
putting my arms straight out
i could touch each wall, ghost my fingers over
the fresh gray paint and random posters
and string lights and photos of my friends
and the twin size bed i slept on till i was too old
A Room For A 14 Year Old.
staged for a 5 year old who loved pink and frilly toys
it didnt feel like mine but it was
the walls echo’d with phone calls till 4 am
the projector on the popcorn ceiling when i pulled my first all nighter
door to my life open for all to see, in that tiny twin room
the slanted roof didnt help with its expansion in my mind
claustrophobic as it was,
it
was
mine.
I ate a tangy orange today—
its honeyed nectar pulled me back,
to the orchard, where the air danced
with citrus and sunlight.
That tangy, sweet fragrance
brought back a rush of memories:
childhood days of spraying peels,
stinging our eyes, saying, “It’ll make your eyes brighter,”
each sting a playful dare.
I see my mother now,
drying the peels on the windowsill.
What spell was she crafting,
what secret magic lay hidden in those husks?
The orchard is no longer just trees,
but a portal to travel in time.
Its fruit holds the echoes of my memories,
each bite... a step closer to home.
the world a playground
parents arms our nest
school was fun too
barring the weekly test
measles and mumps
mother tended with care
flame of love vibrated
heart vibrant and aware
our fontanel was open
we communed with God
but when we shared this
we but got a careless nod
we knew then we are soul
encased in body-mind
it took time to realise
to truth others were blind
counselled by elders
light of our soul became dim
taught to be street smart
God called but we forgot Him
looking back we now see
it was as meant to be
even though we seem bound
our soul is always free
Childhood memories
Of a lazy afternoon
Sprinkling waterfalls
Aside a subdued moon
Candied hearts
Salted pretzel stick
Wild green fields
A football to kick
Bright white shutters
Protected from the heat
Cold stone floors
In a house so neat
Childhood Memories
By: Miracle Man
9/28/2024
Clouds seem to fast forward this days sunset,
And dimness accentuated our lone street lamp glow.
By unfamiliar night noises I soon became beset,
and visions of imaginary creatures began to flow.
Saturday morning
It's a beautiful day
Walking towards
my favorite hangout
A local arcade
Tons of video games to choose
I find what I like
A action-shoot
I add somes coins in
And off I go
Shooting aliens left and right
Gaining high score
I haven't lost a life yet
My score goes higher
I have a audience
They're all impress
I've reach the final boss
Time to get serious
I'm sweating, I'm focus
I lost a few lives
Only one life left
It's now or never
Boom! I did!
I've beating the game!
Everyone cheers.
I win a coupon
Coupon for a free pizza
Today, is a great day
Happy Birthday, Mom
Happy birthday, my mom, I am wishing you all the good
You gave me a life, how can I say thank you? I don't know
God give you in my life, for life, hmm, a great parent, love
You have suffered a lot in my life, Vilmos was a bad boy
Yes, I am not a diamond, but you always took care of me
I love you, oh Mom, your life is mine, mine is yours, our kind
Thank you for your life, and mine, and my father, I love yours
Your lives, implanted in my heart, oh time, God, great parents
We are together in soul, in the God
Happy Birthday, oh my Mom! Love
Vilmos
He would walk into the room
Shoulders held high
Pinnacled to touch the sky
In my eyes a giant of a man
My Grandfather wore a face
Of a blue-eyed Irish sage
With wondrous stories and rousing song
In every breath and heartbeat
Belonging to his Celtic tradition
Some might call him strapping
To me he was a brilliant smile
We would hold hands to dance and sing
In the light of him loving me
So simply, almost magically
He would pull me from my shyness
Into a world of extraneous joy
As he twirled me up onto his shoulders
Then crashing to the floor, feet on the ground
To dance with fire and delight
With every step while singing
Loud and clear of the happiness he knew
Once grandeur,
and perched on an expansive terrain
The humble monumental frame
that had bounced children's laughter
from its walls
And had displayed historical images
Along its halls,
Now stands an eyesore
so silent and worn.
I passed by once to catch a glimpse
Of what was left of it since
Those glorious years of my youth.
Though the epochs have passed
And life had long bade that old house goodbye,
It still echoed its beautiful truths.
I smiled- awash with nostalgia
- And was lost in my childhood forever.
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