Remember Poems | Examples of Remember Poetry

Stones remember, the first cold plunge in ice-melt currents hurling the sense of fear. They remember each bump, each grind, each sudden collision, that carved their surface to soft compliance, yielding to the drag. They remember the murmuring bobble, as gentler waters tumbled them together, stone on stone mumbling in the cobbled bed. They remember the drought years - sun cracking their dried backs, leaving flakes and crack lines, on once-smooth sides. They remember the roaring...

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I am a projection, An Idea through connection, A physical perception. Since inception, Part of the Sources collection. I can feel the attention, The affection in my reality, A reflection of its love for me. I am able to see, The character I came to be. A heightened sensitivity, Aware of how you feel. You're not...

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Date: June 17, 2025 I wandered through a bleeding dusk, the wind forgot my name. A rose was growing from the dust— I reached, and it became the fog that hums like swallowed screams. My lungs forget to breathe. I taste old blood beneath my tongue. Each petal cuts me in my sleep— what did I dare believe? Each step I took was stitched with...

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Lovingly lauded.. they marauded.. rightly applauded Saffa gaffers did thrill Willow wielding wizards of Oz Yielding…lampooned..marooned..jaffas Festooned spill just like Seville . Must remember..the ember burning Yearning of Temba Bavuma Kept his sense of humour Despite being the victim of flimsy whimsy Many a nasty rumour I implore you to ignore the tumour That is Michael Vaughan…dim..grim Pompous pig or obnoxious prig Having a...

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One day a year to mark a sacrifice profound One day a year to visit the ground One day a year for the bugle to sound One day a year a nation’s memory is found Hardly enough for the terrible cost Hardly enough for the lives that were lost One day a year for the flags to adorn One day a year...

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SIBLING REMEMBRANCES In the warm, sunlit corners of our childhood where laughter spills like marbles across the floor, you and I hear the echoes of our shared secrets, each whispered promise a thread woven into the fabric of our youthful days. We were explorers, mapping the terrain of our backyard kingdom, with sticks as swords, the garden hose our river, where we splashed and...

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CATCH OF THE DAY Today is Father's Day. So I wrote this string of Haikus as a remembrance of my dad whose favorite past time fishing. He was a fisherman extraordinair! dawn by the river daylight has barely arrived, mist dances gently morning reverie how perfectly the songbirds fill the silence old flat-bottom boat his rod and torn fishing net – father’s calloused hands the...

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A lifetime or two in a past far away There lives for me still, through a thicket of gray The brilliance of love for the world I once knew In more than just memories on pictures books blue The city...

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When God said let their be light... it was done No big bang can move light Fast as it can speed through sight Had to be demanded right! ...

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Not only chimes moon bear with my speechless crutches Not only chimes with brass scarred by June fireflies, storm's echoes fade from my hutches — your ghost another side touches Not only chimes ...

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Life span expires around 100 That final flash behind the brain dies fast — If I could choose, I’d leave this fleeting land Beside the man I love, my lifelong friend. Yet fate is cruel; now I must live on, As if the one I love has gone away, Learning how to bear the restless storm, From someone long lost in my...

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A mirror isn't just a frame, A sheet of glass that speaks your name. It shows your image. Yes, it's true– But now the whole of what is you. It doesn't bend, it doesn't fake, It captures truths you cannot break. But mirror hide in the other forms– In quiet thoughts, in silence storms. In words that bruise, in eyes that know, In...

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DROWNING drowning in memories, sinking beneath the weight of laughter, long since faded. echoes whispering through time, like waves crashing against the shores of my mind. sunlit afternoons lingering, the scent of warm grass and cotton candy wafting through the summer air. children's laughter spiraling upward like unleashed kites, moments...

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I open Mother's sewing basket, letting my eyes and hands run over the tools she had used—the scissors, the darning egg, the pinking shears, the pins, the tattered, tomato-shaped pincushion, and spools of thread. I gaze at the metal spool-shaped bobbins remembering how, as a small child, I flushed them down the toilet creating...

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I can’t remember who I was, before voices other than mine stepped in. I think I wanted to be a movie director, a script I read in kindergarten— a line or two still hums when I dream. I think I wanted to be a fashion designer, my first sketches— heels like daggers, dresses stitched with thunder. I think I wanted to be a writer,...

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