Past. Poems - Poems about Past.

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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I'm tired The past locked into my future Locked into my now I am so mad Feeling the grief How many years to go Blindly Tightly to what should have been Now im old with no where to go The past stole my future or did I give it all a way To a past that never was Remnants of the past In my face Hating...

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Passing future, coming the past The time storm is ready, it’s total Find again the reality, back to life Build a new world, it’s old that life ...

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The glass once lucid now deflects glow differently. A chuckle clenched in the wind, blanching and flaming. Where were we? Footprints echo, retreat, advance sagging floor, missing nails. Not long enough-- like a wheeze folding in and out, a beam of light held in a still moment. Sagging floor, nails missing, steps forth, then retreat. Where were we, blanching and flaming, a chuckle loosed in the wind— now the glass,...

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That which once was and can no longer be, a vision once seen you can no longer see. When described as a thought, a memory, or a seed or seedling if it is a tree. The beginning of something the world now calls me! ...

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Calling Death Just sitting in the room. Cold air comes from the window Dawn woke me up from the cemetery. Great early lights Calling the eternal life. The clock has stopped. It’s time The heart is still beating. So fast. Pain and pressure inside Need to change, change the time. Passed years. It’s global All this life has gone away. A...

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Nothing beats the summer breeze The memories of the ones who leave Lotus flowers smile at me Saying this will pass, you’ll come to see Walking in a forest with my shoes in my bag Wishing I were leaving the town that I have The year is almost over, and I’m still lying on the grass The...

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Scientist in the present are Trying to play God with the future Pre-historic animals have been discovered Still in tack, and you're trying to Recreate the past that wasn't Meant to be, dinosaurs and other pre-extinct animals were destroyed Millions of years ago for a reason Humans and dinosaur animals We're not meant to live together And I'm not planning on being The meal,...

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Kensington spreads its legs— lets the city crawl in, dripping Xylazine / fentanyl / tranq, open sore veins moaning dirty dirges. False prophets— all piss and panic— bark half-lies through decaying molars, fingering apathy for spare change. You smell it five blocks before you enter. The stench tests your soul before it reaches your throat. Narcan. burnt spoons. street toilet. Dreams twitch under heat lamps— larval things too stubborn to die. Hope? Hope’s a half-smoked, laced Newport balanced...

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Have you heard the one about the birds and the bees? I never much liked it myself, because it soured the taste of our innocence. Or maybe our innocence soured the taste of us. So much for happy endings, and so much for love. So much for innocence, and so much for us. You’re an old slow dance. You’re an old song. And if I’m being honest— I still think back to that time I...

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The doors to yesterday are shut tight and locked. Only windows allow quick glimpses... you, face red and angry, eyes shut tight, refusing to accept reality away from your warm, slushy world of heart beats and distant voices. Alas, we are all thrust out into bright lights,...

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Half Past Summer, Two Months To Fall The sultry legs of summer dance under sunny skies Each day, the steps are heated and embraced She lies in summer's arms on a beach, tanning herself As the sands of summer roll with the waltzing tides When the song ends, she sighs, and a new stage begins Slippers and sandals are replaced...

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For there’s much more to remember. perhaps the walk that still embers. The distinct message at the first sight. and pin bent at the other end of the road. Waited for the travellers to haunt at night. when the moon with a smiley face to bright. A stroll to remember where one walked, with hands...

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THREADS OF WHIMSEY ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ threads of whimsy doth weave the fabric of today while time twists the yarns of yesterday ...

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Life Why follow? Don’t need. Lives the death Be walking. Dark woods. Free life. Feeling Don’t love. Do not love. This is just a mistake Dark light. No harmony. This life is dissonant Just a hell. Rainbow. Night-blindness. A hell Loving. Unrecognised. Unknown love. A tear Just water. Steam. Life stream. River in Wood Unloved. Changed. Flow. Glittering. Silver brook Ice Dropped life. Missed. Buried...

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