Long Nostalgiaworld Poems
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I too have come to a blank wall to tell
In sorrow's thronging pangs my sad farewell.
I too toll my heart with memory's bell
The mortal flesh is a fake citadel ...
Brim me with tears so colors now supplied
May be the rainbow shuttered when you died
In flesh alone. Heaven's milk is my tears
Honeyed for the sting of mercenary years.
It was not easy for the mud was black
A mother's incessant rain, the dry sun
Of a father - a whip saddling the back
And yet a child with gift lifts any ton
Of dreams. So stellar of Jackson Five
You shot across my teenage sky with Ben
As your feet scurrying like a bright hive
Spun and twist and slide like a magic pen.
It was not hard for me to believe you
That you would be there, for you were so bad
Nothing could turn you back again. I knew
The artist more than I knew the man ... sad
And tormented, with its childhood deferred
In the unending coming of manhood;
The adult world was a bizarre dream, a blurred
Reality that spirit ne'er understood.
Yet I would not envy you mortal pain
Nor bring you back into the fickle lights
To swell your heart with tumults of disdain.
Visionaries here have no rights
And the black sorrow is hardest to bare.
I only know the world of pop have lost
The best, you were the king, a talent rare,
But fame comes to some with a brutal cost.
So let the bells toll as flowers fade
Where we pile them, what is real must past,
For only the artificial stays. Wade
Me through the sad throng, my homage cast
Upon the stage from where vision took flight
Into our hearts, and brimmed us with your gift.
I shall count an extra star up there tonight
For you Michael, for time has spent your thrift.
Birth begins the tragedy in us. Life's
First sound is a blank scream
Against sorrow's hidden portends of strifes
All we know are mirages and dream.
Mother took the news staring at the sky
She must have cried inside
For I have no evidence else. There's no why
For it ... how my rage defied
Her callous front ... he was her first boy
The only hero she spoke well
Of, his name was the formula for joy
In our house: anecdotes tell
Of his escapades ... youth defying fate
He had a cat's tenacity for life
And from evil wills found a golden gate
Of scholarship and exotic wife.
I remember when the years pulled him back
All he came with was a bag
Of books, and a couple suits in novel sack
His eyes time warped, a lag
Of missing years and loneliness enfolding him
But he was handsome still
And my soul cartwheeled at joy's fresh brim
Those moments that he filled
When eyes first contact spelled pride to claim
This aristocrat like a medal
I could wear. So young he was, her true flame
The son of love's sweet recital!
And many days sitting in his shadow, I heard
Him dream big things like stars
Far away, warm things like a fluttering bird
Things made bright to cover scars
In the sore of memory. His mind was his cliff
A risky place in the high winds
And closer to the edge for the Grail he'd drift
O how the giddy world spins!
He died in Kingston: William came and went
And my mother looked at the sky
But until she died, about his memory was silent
And I forever wonder why.
I loved him, you know, he was the first best thing
A poor child had to claim or show
The world ... with him I was no more common. A king
He made me in his gold of glow
Something that I looked forward to meet in me. I,
Like mother, been silence since
But sometimes my heart just heave and would cry
For time this love cannot rinse
And I that moment cannot comprehend, that death
Gave no notice to his lauded day
And like common dust on a wild wind's balmy breath
My brother was swiftly swept away.
Fabulous Fifties
is what they called it,
we just called it a good time.
It was a great time in history
to be a teenager, to have our
youth, it was a time for some
to rebel, others to grow up.
Movies were some of the best
TV shows were coming of age,
with I Love Lucy, Gunsmoke,
Donna Reed, Ozzie and Harriet,
which brought Ricky Nelson fame.
Who could forget Garry Cooper
in High Noon, or Ray Miland
plotting to kill his wife in
"Dial M For Murder".
No one would believe
Richard Carlson when he
told everyone that a space ship
had landed in the Arizona desert
in "It Came From Outer Space",
or the little boy who said
he saw a space ship land out in
his field and people kept
disappearing by falling through
the ground in "Invaders From Mars"
in 1953.
The Brooklyn Dodgers finally
brought home a World Championship
in 1955. This year also brought
Rock 'n Roll to us teen agers
when Bill Halley and his Comets
had a hit with "Rock Around The Clock".
1956 was the first no-hitter when
Don Larsen of the New York Yankees
threw one against the Brookylyn Dodgers
in the World Series, it has not happen
before or since in the World Series.
The Fifties also brought us 3-D, way
before our so called 3-D TV sets of today.
I remember seeing a few or so, wearing
those white glasses we thought we were
so cool.
Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Chuch Berry,
Little Richard and many others will
never have that many big music stars
again. A New York Baseball team went
to the World Series every year of the
Fifties except 1959 and they would
have then also, if the Brooklyn Dodgers
had not moved to Los Angles.
The Fifties was a great time to
grow up, things would never be
the same again, our youth was left
in the Fifties, times would change
and leave us longing for those
good old days when old age
reached us.
Written 6-20-11
Sun from the window, shines gold on my grain
With a faded patina, I have come home again
I was broken and shabby, after years all alone
Stored in the rafters, so lost and afraid
You have dusted my cobwebs, and repaired a split rail
There was love in your touch...since the day you unveiled
Discovered me hiding in the damp attic gloom
I felt so abandoned, in my dark dusty tomb
A remnant of childhood, from those days long ago
You have restored me to life, to be worthy and new
Do you remember my rhythm, and my creaky squeak croon?
When she rocked you at midnight, softly humming a tune
You sat in my warm arms, under a soft velvet moon
While you dusted my bones, and shined clean my face
Did your memories fall back to that magical place?
Where the world was your oyster, with such sweet childhood charms
You were held to her breast, in her soft loving arms?
Sweet nights spent together when the whole world was kind?
Now the rhythmic thump of my rails on the floor
Will return all those moments, for reflection once more
You will feel on your face, and I on my grain
Sun's warming shine through old window glass panes
Wherever you are, that old world, or new...
To be home again, is to be here with you....
In search of greatness,we reclined in this forest_
In a world holding many lives,
Playing green with wet land.
We refuse the other world
Stretching one's legs on a couch
Squatting before this, robbing shells with kernel oil:
A world of mother hen
Tapping earthworm from dry land;
A world of stony path,
grey hair on fresh born;
On fresh born;
Of withered flowers and of ashes,
Of polar region in winter...
A galleon has brought wild berries from the sea:
That leaves the mind with sepsis.
We in gallantry and in enameled gait
Have taken a handful for washing mouth
And another to prove our higher birth,
Having the sun in our bosom
Days have past, boils are broken,
Leaving us in a stuck,
And the serum from the doom
Remind us of where we missed the footwalk.
We grew up together then we drifted apart.
We went down our own roads, but they're still in my heart.
As kids in school we saw each other everyday.
When graduation came we all went a separate way.
Where we ended up was nothing like we planned.
Because growing up we thought we had the world in our hands.
I reminisce those days because I don't see them today.
If we had another chance it wouldn't have been this way.
Life throws curves, I guess thats how it goes.
But they're still in my heart as our distance grows.
The memories we shared are all in the past.
Little did I know those memories would last.
That was back then, now I'm thirty years old.
I'm now just letting go in a world that can be cold.