Short Replaying Poems
Short Replaying Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Replaying by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Replaying by length and keyword.
Yesterday's memories
still linger
his touch
is still felt
on my cheek
his reflection
still replaying
in my head
Your voice stained my mind
Like a cheap recording
Replaying within my brain
Burned into my mentality
I only wish
I could skip this track
And move on
To the next song
Form:
"An evanescent moment, fleeting, yet forever shall stay
A memory of you held subdued unable to fade away
Replaying in the mind a day long ago
A beautiful picture of you unable to let go"
I share my bed
with pens and pads
and remnants of the day
Thoughts replaying everything
forming words I need to say
Writing the lessons
that I learn
the things that stay with me
Expressing all that I take in
my world through poetry
Sharing space with myself
replaying ‘what if’
Symbiosis conjoins
the jazz in the riff
The progression regressive
separation be damned
My shadow imploding
—in a joyous ‘I Am’
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
songs and memories play in my head,
while i think of the could of beens and what will never bes
and with great sorrow i realize they are one in the same
i didnt want to believe it...but
i had to face the truth
I was never meant to be with u
Cast
Down
Daily
Thoughts unflag
Life disappointments
Winning inner demons voices
Replaying the same tune in the mind as a scratched disc
Leaving a deep feeling of unworthiness and rejection, toilsome to overcome
4-25-2016
Eyes closed he hums the melody
replaying in his mind each note
in search of fitting instruments.
------------------------------------
Image no. 3
Paul Callus ~ 3rd January 2015
Contest: 3 by 8 image
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed: 3rd
that that has been impulsed
now replaying in linear time
requires us to enter trance
to mirror smiles and tears
for those who are awake
nonchalance is the way
within this lucid dream
radiating compassion
for love alone is real
29-December-2022
As I sit quietly on my bed,
The voices still swirl in my head,
What they are saying,
Keeps replaying,
No matter how hard I try,
They just wont die,
My destiny is calling,
Time out, no more over hauling,
My ancestors are telling me,
Go forward and Be!
Happy memories have me grimacing,
Beloved friend I would have given all for,
Unmercifully plunged a stake into my heart,
Relishing my every labored gasp for air,
Replaying each moment of my agony,
Trembling, I mouth the word "why,"
Staring into my horrified eyes, she laughed.
Giving no thought
to yesterday
invested in
tomorrow
Memories pave
the road behind
with joy that’s
wrapped in sorrow
Giving no weight
to seasons past
this moment my
new entry
Calling me on
replaying that song
whose lyrics
— redefine me
(Anthology Of Perception: September, 2024)
What if
The echoes- ricocheting off
The mountain walls
Were just a voice
Stuck there for infinity
A voice trapped
Into the tangle of forever
Cursed to repeat
Whatever noise that is made
No feelings
No meanings
Just the sound,
Endlessly replaying
Till it stops
Yet never answering
Lost in a moment
A memory
Plays on
I sit silently
Replaying
Deep within my mind
The last words
We shared
If only, to refine
To enter your presence
Sweet love
Could be mine
As days pass by
Silently subdued
I wait for a sign
A memory
Lost in time
Lost in time...
Send me back home where I truly belong
Cut the chains dear, please let me depart
Why does your brain keep replaying our song?
Let my melody drift to your heart
Making me haunt you is very unkind
I'm no ghost dear, please grant my parole
Why bottle me up inside of your mind?
Set me free to go dwell in your soul
Memories
Memories, little snippets from our past. Moments in time replaying in our minds as we yearn for our bygone days. Some warm our hearts, and others fill us with regret.
But memories, whether good or bad will always be apart of our everyday lives, reminding us of the past that is forever gone from reality.
V.M. Tackett
My doubts were revealed
No place of refuge within my hearts chambers
Poison slowly seeping through my veins
Killing myself of all my secrets
My brains on an acid trip
Replaying my memories over and over again
Going crazy because I still remember
You, Me and Us
Want to forget, need to forget
Loving you came so easy
But I paid the ultimate price
My sanity
The poetic image is not an echo of the past. On the contrary: through the brilliance of any image, the distant past resounds with echoes.
– Gaston Bachelard
If memories invade souls and minds,
and mirrors reflect perception,
it must follow that whispers
reach into our psyche,
replaying aural
collages that
echo of
distant
past.
There comes a time.
There always comes a time.
Whether it comes for you, or someone else.
The time always comes.
No one remembers the time.
They all just get lost in it.
For when the time comes.
The time ceases to exist.
We get propelled into a time loop.
Replaying the past.
Or rewriting the future.
Remember when the time comes.
Let it come and never let go.
Tell tale signs linger in the void,
of unvoiced emotions destroyed,
yet embraced by the universe,
thereby shaping destiny’s verse,
replaying as our life’s refrain,
until mindful eye does ingrain
each flicker and nuance within
bleeding hearts, thus exhuming sin
from the very core of our soul,
that womb of existence feels whole.
03-August-2022
An experience from long ago,
He held onto, inside it made his heart cold,
He never let all the bitterness go inside,
With every new face these feelings he thought he could hide,
Transferred emotions, he couldn't even see the abuse,
The next person would pay, and he would subconciously use,
Until he can come to grips to face it head on,
The cycle will keep replaying that song.
I really did place a plastic bubble
Resting on a rooftop of tar and trouble
Suffocating the air from a pink, perfumed bug
In agony over that final hug
Memorializing with retrowishes
Replaying silent, moving whispers
Of soft hugs and warm and wet kisses
Cheap whitewash fades me to the lowest recess
To blaze like a Phoenix -- for all lovers are blessed
When love is reborn and renewed.
The doors are so heavy
On the other side of freedom
I can barely hear my own breath
Behind the swinging piece of wood
But I will always hear your laughter
I sit outside with melodies
Replaying themselves in my mind forever
Waiting to catch a glimpse
But I only note the passersby
And not one of them is you
For you’ve locked yourself behind a mask
A heavy façade that I cannot push away
Form:
Permanently nuclear heads
psychosis; sightless
Heads
Plant of the haters
Insanity this race
We; any race
Commonly we repatriate
The rays of the sun
For what
Radiation
Ruining our earth
Reproduction of what
The death
and the death
The winner who
only dust
A weapon of no winner
No buds
Only! only ash!
Of Hiroshima, Nagasaki
Who is Replaying that?
Kids with heads;
Nuclear
Who are playing
deadly game of men!
From the sound of the bugle
in the rush of the wind
The bodies are counted
as grieving begins
In the morrow replaying
as blood spills again
The enemy forward
whose countenance grim
The courage of many
all acting as one
Their wills long suborted
with fear on the run
Till the bugle goes silent
the bugler face down
Last day ill remembered
—a wounded dog howls
(The New Room: June, 2023)