The heart can make the tears in the eyes delicious when you go to memory.
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We cannot change the past...but we can stop crucifying ourselves on the Cross of Memory.
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I’ll make my long goodbyes to the glory of her memory and her legend in the skies.
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"Use wisdom to discern when to set boundaries and when to offer grace. A short memory often serves happiness, especially in minor disputes. Choose your battles judiciously, and renew your spirit by releasing lesser offenses - kindness, patience, and forgiveness can heal rifts."
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Grieve in your own way. Be gentle with yourself. Let the tears fall, let the memories rise, and know that you don’t have to carry this alone. They would want you to keep living, loving, and slowly finding light again even if it’s just one breath at a time. I write this in memory of your loved one
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Some lights never die—they shimmer softly in the dusk of memory.
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You shimmer still within my dusk, a faded gleam in memory’s husk.
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Joy can slip like wind, but the tether of memory holds fast.
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The darkest nights are softened by the memory of a steady, guiding light.
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Not every moment deserves to become a memory. Some deserve to stay alive.
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Fine fabric of poetry closer
the frayed edges of language, loose
threads of thought we light, to keep
from unraveling. What lasting value,
if any at all, rises in the smoke, is
sustained by memory of the lyrical
flash.
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“I remember feelings more than facts. It’s how my memory loves.”
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I have some very old photographs, postcards -- the images have changed with age -- someday soon to be all gone -- life is like Polaroids, but faith and love above all, I truly feel in my heart, somehow transcend the lethal memory of time.
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True love happens without a
reason,
It’s limitless, once experienced
it flows endlessly from season
to season.
It’s a memory that can never be
erased, deleted or forgotten.
By Zyrool
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For one who truly loves, truly never forgets -- he/she may move on, but lingers though a memory cloud long passed~ the misty yet rises~ heart's residue seeps deep.
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When memory implodes upon itself — all we have left is Vodka
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You are the book, I read every day. Some times flipping through I read your moves and gestures. Some times rereads allow me to dive and decipher. Not everybody carries the ability to see all the bands emitting out of a prism named body.
Not every body carries the capability to read the prints provided by ever chirping senses. May I react or gaze through to store, depends upon my strategic core. Just one thing for you to know, I stack every book in the memory of my library.
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My memory searches a distant past, where a fisherman and a carpenter worked both the land and the sea.
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Nothing ever comes entirely to rest, the decay of death into memory into myth a prime example. Whatever only true for the moment of successful application. Absolute Truth is Faith~ Omnipotent.
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The worst part about being a has-been is memory.
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Lies congest your memory...making you forget what you said and others remember....
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" We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The Mystic Chords of Memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better Angels of our Nature" -Abe Lincoln
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If the memory has canceled everything from your mind, try to go back to your childhood and relive those memories. Anybody can be a kid again even when we grow old.
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Life has scarred me so,I must leave a permanent Memory
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- Memory of the death of a loved one never dies -
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"Childhood is our Memory
Success is our Destiny
Death is our Constant truth
Love is our need
Giving compassion is our inner Humanity
Satisfaction is our Desire
Knowledge is our Power
True Leadership is our Motive
Sex is our Erotic Fantasy
Because we are Human or creature."
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We will be remembered tomorrow by the tracks we leave today. — Native American proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch, keywords/tags: Native American, future, memory
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In my observation of humans, I have discovered that a lapse in judgement is almost always followed by a lapse of memory.
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We all have an expiration date. Only one thing goes with us. Memories. And today, every day, is a memory in the making. Make it remarkable.
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A black ringlet curls to lie
at the nape of her neck,
glistening with sweat
in the evaporate moonlight...
This is what I remember
now that I cannot forget.
And tonight,
if I have forgotten her name,
I remember...
rigid wire and white lace
half-impressed in her flesh,
our soft cries, like regret
...the enameled white clips
of her bra strap
still inscribe dimpled marks
that my kisses erase...
now that I have forgotten her face.
('The Effects of Memory' by Michael R. Burch)
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