Past. Poems

Simple Life In The Past

Daddy worked the land
to put food in our hand
He worked in the mill
to pay our bills
Lived to be 97 years old
A simple life, not so bold

YESTERDAY

YESTERDAY 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” Lewis Carroll

Yesterday, I stumbled upon my old self.
     Innocence stood 
          abandoned in the face of 
          

If I Could Have Lived My Life

If I could have lived my life

Then this life is not mine. Not mine. Then this present has gone too far
I didn’t wait this time. Never. I needed the love. But that didn’t work

Doesn’t work the love? Unacceptable, my life? Yes. This is the reality
Solitude is the price for my independent life. I am paying

Tangibles

What’s hiding in the attic
Nothing but dusty boxes of sentimental relics
~ past I can’t let go



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: 3rd place 2025

Survivor Mode

bruises scars and stretch marks
the sum total of diverse past experiences
~ I am strength and stamina


Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Killing fields of the west'

First to go down..Hope and joy..Then seperate
Man and women..Boy oh boy.' Bring in euthanasia..As a real good thing.' Get some
Soap box series, to play it through scene by scene.' The termination of unborn.' Who we don't need..
Just open the boarders, ie get workers with speed' .' Does that answer any questions.? Oh then we
Can put

A New Idea

It’s a brand new big idea
The banned country of such size
So I want to make it clear
Either way it looks unwise
Wasn’t Germany at war
In Bach’s time, and wasn’t France
Fighting England till the score
Levelled up by circumstance
But they never used to ban
Scholars travelled, merchants traded 
Painters painted, music men
Wrote their stuff while the crusaders
Fought their sacred

I dont want this present

The future isnt as dark as it seems
Lost in the present 
kuz we still holdin on to the past's fckd up presents! 
every scar wrapped tight w a bow 
 triple knotted with a thousand layers 
keepin safe every tragic memory we know 
tired from the circles we stay runnin 
moving so fast but feelin

All Of The Little Things Our Little Brains Choose To Remember For A Short Little While

Isn’t it odd?
All of the little things
that remain in our
little brains?

One day, you’ll
be walking down the
street, just minding your
own business, when suddenly
you’ll stop.

A sight,
A sound,
A scent,
A memory,

Something you have
never seen, heard, smelt,
or even experienced before
will catch your incomplete attention
so completely.

And send you to
the most magical of
places.

Something from your
childhood,

Something from the
small town you drove through
last autumn.

Something

You Know You're Past It When

Do I need normal shoes equipped with cleats?
I’m not as steady as I used to be.
The town in which I live has narrow streets: ...
So where’s this poem going? Bear with me!

I’ve always had an eye for pretty girls.
Polite and non-aggressive, if I spied
a fetching face, or shoulders draped in curls,
I used to cross the

Spirit Past

Despite the bellow of loved ones,
you've chosen to go it alone. 
Thus far you've immunity to folly and mishap.
Now you're long overdue but nobody knows
you've left no itinerary nor coordinates
There'll be no search and rescue
upon that avalanche of arrogance.

The pickaxe has slipped from your hand 
sliding into the sweet blackness.
Days layer upon a twist of

Our Futuristic Past

Nephilim, a curious thing
Said to be Giants
Angels and Women bring
(Not Artificial Insemination)
But what if somehow this were all wrong
That the words were really different
When they sang that song
What if we change the word Giant
To mean Genius instead
Wouldn't that lead us to somewhere 
Different than we were lead
And what if all along It were staring 
Us

Sunset

The past is fiercely orange,
fluent in the language of the sunset.

The promises are vaguely gray
dumped in the expectations of tomorrow.

Not knowing to hope 
or just to reflect
the unknown
sprouting in my soul...

Letting Go Of Past Mistakes

Pictures there upon the wall, each person once held me dear.
At times we were living together, now not one lives near.
Each has a life they must live and thoughts on which to ponder.
My life goes on, I grow old and still I can’t but wonder,
How different things could have been, if love we didn’t squander.

It’s

Old Times

Old Times

Sometimes walking can be a journey into the past
Sometimes, but always, this is a lifestyle
Hmm. Take a walk in a cemetery?

Yes. Switched off the present
Old gravestones are glittering
Beautiful music is heard
Calling another life

The passed souls are
dancing from their lives
Happy people live in the past

Switched off my present
I stay with them
I live there

Stay
The past

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