Just like a myosotis
"Do not forget me", I yell
You're the only one I miss
On thoughts of you, I still dwell
I'm under your spell
Falling into the abyss
Of you, I still reminisce
This farewell
Feels like a poisonous kiss
"Do not forget me", I compel
sitting with my memories
takes me back in time
when the bright sun always shone
on lost youthful dreams
as time runs away from me
calling for the mundane of everyday life
why does it now sweep me up
and seemingly trot along
to embrace me as a co-conspirator
woven in the tight fabric of time itself
time and again we attempt
to turn back the clock by our reminiscing
only to waste time which only runs forward
or does it
can we change the past by altering the present but
should we
embrace the passage of time as we can’t stem its flow
in the race for immortality as each become a memory
From the days
When we was faded
From the days
When we denied our reflection on the mirror
From the days
When our spirit was feeding on our souls
From the days
When we deepened our pain in salvation that somehow, we would arise in multitudes and rejuvenate with grace such that we would proclaim that we are redeemed.
From the days
When we was angered and caged with rage that someday we would stand on stage and introduce the chapters of our page
From the days
When we cold with remorse
From the days
When we was desperate, but with hope
surviving_pawn
A hush of gray descends, the world outside a blur
Of weeping glass and dancing leaves, a gentle stir.
The scent of wet earth and cooled pavement climbs the air,
As warmth from a steaming cup soothes away all care.
In her hands, a porcelain hug, the tea's floral grace,
Sweet steam whispers against the skin of her face.
The book on her knees, a weight of stories untold,
Its paper scent, a comfort, a history to hold.
The rhythmic drum of rain against the pane,
A soft, percussive melody to wash away the pain.
Each drop a tiny echo of a memory long past,
A life unfolding, too beautiful to ever last.
A sip of warmth, a bitter-sweet and soothing brew,
A taste of all the moments she has ever been through.
The cool ceramic on her palms, a solid, gentle feel,
The world outside is fading, but this moment is so real.
She closes her eyes and listens to the low hum,
The quiet symphony of the world she's come from.
The taste of tea, the smell of rain, the warmth within her soul,
The past and future merge to make her present whole.
Cyclical Reminisce
Pendulum skips one bang to the bead
Triggers the feeling to turn it off lead
Allows memories to run and circulated
Reminiscing promises you once articulated
Deep in mind are the guilt and regret
Keep looking back and wanted to reset
If only not tempted, no hearts will be broken
If only not lusted, no trust will be fallen
Fridays are bluer since the day of part ways
Laughing is not better than shared as always
Messages are sent waiting for responses
Hoping to be seen even it is now nonsense
Memories suddenly comes in cyclical
The unfold pages comes in unintentional
One day the fate will surely cross again
And surely, that will never cause any pain
A chick plucked off its wing
Down the tall oak branches it sung
A song sung nigh free of yearning
Down the hazy amber elm til its life hung
Near the shore, a kindred spirit melted its last candle
Melted under the dark night sky, its damping light drew him closer
Resuscitating his clockwork, its hand ticked, he threw himself in the shore, without a single ripple
A short-lived sight of a light that chose to fly away, and away, further, and further
I took a stroll down an old park, visited by a dream ever so distant
With ideals buried asunder, I selfishly blew those old autumn roses, greenheads who lost their vigor
I dare not to turn back, a bent world was left with carvings reduced to a remnant
With time and life that will soon disappear, I yearn that lost feeling of fervor
We are Estranged But—
I hope my image stays in your mind forever
—etched in your memory until your last breath.
Whenever you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear—maybe, at least once, you'd reminisce about me.
I feel unsettled, yet sometimes, I wish that when your lips meet hers, a faint echo of my taste still lingers.
It may seem like a curse, but I hope you realize—it's just the lingering echo of my aching heart.
I'm sinking in guilt for daring to wish this,
yet longing still whispers through my restless heart.
Of course, We are Estranged —But I still yearn to linger in your memory eternally.
—Beloved????
—Just A Quiet yearning to linger in a heart that has,
moved on~
tucked in the attic’s yawning mouth
a box breathes dust and echoes time
its edges worn, its ribbon frayed
a tomb for moments left behind
inside, the scent of paper ghosts
of letters inked with trembling hands
photographs curled like autumn leaves
pressed in the weight of lost demands
a locket, dull with tarnished love
a ticket stub from laughter past
a wilted rose, its petals cracked
all whispering we couldn’t last
the lid creaks shut, a sigh of dusk
some things are best left locked away
but even dust, in golden light
remembers where the shadows lay
Dusty Box Of Memories Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Thinking we do! Living or not we all do ! Giving we all do to who we give we do! Laughing we all do! We all pass through the valley of death through pain regrets a sadness too and our bodies stands the test of time to fuel our aspirations
I once was young but now I am old! Never seen the righteous forsaken!
Never cried alone always child protected loved sound mind in the atmosphere of life joy gifted blessed questions gone love of heaven silent stand a love song request.Never asking myself why! But all the rest yes! We ask! With a helmet of salvation secret covered veil of interest a eagle eyes warriors vision. The eagle eye shining on who when how where within myself the shatterd zone! Then the battle with self begins lifelong! Remembering never is I alone in the swords of life is drawn line upon line within myself my spirit my flesh my soul all is there one body one way one life! We stand !The lines are alway drawn!
I turn off U.S. 30
at an exit for Ames
and see Jack Trice
Stadium expanded.
Memories stir
of football games
the jubilation and sorrow
found on the field
more than forty years ago
where campus heroes were made.
Three blocks away from campus
The Towers dormitories still
reach into the sky, my
fraternity in their shadows
is now a bed and breakfast.
Brothers there always said
the biggest lessons are
learned out of class.
I take in the sight
of the Iowa State Campus
and in my heart
live there again.
I see myself sitting behind
a coed in Psychology when I gazed
at her long, light blonde hair/
Now my mind replays our conversation
when I drove across town with her
after a Friday get-together.
The song, The Joker, played on the radio
and spoke to every desire felt in my heart.
Now I call out her name
and wonder where she’s gone.
The sun breaks through the clouds
as I pass through town for another time
such joy found as I live those times again.
Meet me at the River of Hope,
where everything is achievable
simply by trusting in powers above.
Meet me at the Entrance of Forgiveness,
where we can let go of our wrongdoings
and embrace the bright side of our companionship.
Meet me at the River of Memory,
where we can reminisce about moments shared
and see for ourselves that our life has been beautiful with us.
If we cannot meet at any of these rivers,
at least meet me at the midpoint where our paths cross.
Old friend, won’t you join me late tonight?
We can watch by dimming candlelight,
A play with young characters in motion,
To their ideals and passions, such devotion.
Their lives filled with great meaning and import,
While not thinking too much that life is short,
We can watch as they love, fight, and make up.
One day it will be gone when they wake up.
We can sigh and cry and laugh till it’s late,
Though, to these characters, we can’t quite relate.
While the dramatic players on stage are us,
Their concerns tonight seem meaningless.
Today I sat in one with my thoughts,
Unanswered questions lingering abrupt.
I glimpsed a couple that passed me by,
Intertwining hands and genuine smile.
My heart skipped a beat and I wondered why,
Unfortunately I was disoriented for a while.
What is love, how does it feel?
What are emotions, are they even real?
What I had, I thought was true,
Maybe I'm a fool to have fallen for you.
Trusted my heart but you proved her wrong,
When put to the test, you left her to drown.
You're no different, maybe worse,
I don't hate you but it low-key hurts.
Couched in the season,
by a fireplace ablaze.
The winter with it's snowy soft edges,
tasted bittersweet
-since I reminisced once more
of just how pleasing it was
in the golden summer days,
when I felt a lovers heat
-her soft gentle fingers
upon the nape of my neck.
Hesitating, and lingering
-then she gave me a peck.
Yes upon my lips a kiss.
Oh yes, how I reminisce.
Sometimes when I go about my day
The wind sweeps up your scent
And presents it to me
Making me stop as I recover from the melancholy
Of having never fully let go.
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