There's a preoccupation with memory and the operation of memory and a rather rapacious interest in history.
quote by Penelope Lively

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Come As You Are (LP Version)
Come As You Are"
Come, as you are. As you were.
As I want you to be. As a friend.
As a friend. As an old enemy. Take your time.
Hurry up. The choice is yours. Don't be late.
Take a rest. As a friend. As a old memory, memory, memory, memory.
Come. Dowsed in mud. Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be. As a trend. As a friend.
As an old memory, memory, memory, memory.
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
Memory, memory, memory, memory (don't have a gun).
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun. Memory, memory...
song performed by by Nirvana

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers

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Memory Of Me As A Poet,
memory of me as a poet,
My doleful soul need's the great memory of me as a poet,
The pure memory taught me of the spontaneous event's of life,
How creation gave me authority to reveal such a strong poetic verse,
I recited the poem in my mind only to realise the great motor memory,
But pure memory revealed all my past writing,
I can relive my past only by the memory of the great history,
Global memory took my mind to think of the great poet.
poem by Maxim Muyu

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That is my major preoccupation, memory, the kingdom of memory. I want to protect and enrich that kingdom, glorify that kingdom and serve it.
quote by Elie Wiesel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Grandma Moses

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A strange thing is memory, and hope one looks backward, and the other forward one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Anna Mary Robertson Moses

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I live and will die by you
It is my memory of you
That kindles my spirit.
It is the same memory
That swindles my heart.
My head is full with your thought.
My bed is sore from the same thought.
Day by day pain aggravates;
The same way does my plight.
It is my memory of you
That gives me joy.
It is the same memory
That sends me to sorrow.
You throw on me the day and the night.
I enjoy both in different lights.
I cherish you in my memory;
I may perish from the same memory
29.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Art of Memory
Because the happiness, because the irony
Because the importance, because it is funny
Because the promise, because the faith
Memory is remembered
Whether daily, whether eventful
Whether beautiful, whether sad
Whether planned, whether accidental
Memory is made everyday
Because the time, because the nature
Because the trauma, because the secret
Because the plan, because the fear
Memory is forgotten
For the shame of dignity, for the hunger of power
In white lies, in written history
By erasing some fact, by adding impact
Memory is manipulated
By the flash of look, by the said word
By the thing, by the thought
By the shocking impact, by unconscious dream
Memory is triggered again
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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Memory and Oblivion
When all is lost, there is still a memory
From which a new city can be built in a new world.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
Oblivion cures the old wounds, and you must agree,
There is only the past and the future on the path;
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Memory will save oblivion from a bad reverie;
When the new city is built, it will be an abode,
Bestowed by those with memory to make others wealthy.
Before the temple, in the middle of the city,
Keepers of the fire all abided.
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Fire will be born from night to be
New light when all knowledge is swallowed
And those with memory will be wealthy.
A new rose will bloom from the dark sea,
A city revived from memory and abroad;
When all is but a memory, there is still memory.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic

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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta

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History is a people's memory, and without a memory, man is demoted to the lower animals.
Your Memory
YOUR MEMORY
Your memory,
comes like a floating cloud,
no one knows,
from where it comes,
and from where it goes
your memory comes,
like a sweet fragrance,
your memory comes,
from distant hills,
like a flowing river
and where it goes
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma

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Thanks for the Memory
Thanks for the memory,
For a man; golden history,
Lived a life full of misery,
A true man; soul of ivory,
A riddle; unsolved irony,
A hunter, an artist, a Dad,
Truly had given me all he had,
And me? Were I that bad?
Did I really made him sad?
No, he didn't curse me in his bed,
But had forgiven his wayward lad,
A talent, a poet a musician mad,
And he'll forever remember that,
His last wish; in all that he'd said...
Thanks for the memory; I really appreciate your sympathy...And this is for history...
poem by Jimmy Zepp

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Sometimes An Old Memory Gets In My Eye
Like someone drowning I reach for a straw
Grasping for love where there's no love at all
Slowly I'm sinking as time drags by and sometimes an old memory gets in my eye
I struggle for strenght to face the dawn
And I'm freezing to death without you to keep me warm
I hold an arm full of nothing close to my side
And sometimes an old memory gets in my eye
Sometimes an old memory gets in my eye
And when it's ours it's hard to keep my eyes dry
Don't think you see tears for I never cry
But sometimes an old memory gets in my eye
Yes sometimes an old memory gets in my eye
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ongoing Process.
Three quarters of a century.
Recorded in my memory.
Experience that made me, me.
A complete life times history.
Of all I've heard and all I've seen.
Recorded in my memory.
What I have done and where I've been.
A complete life times history.
I can look forward eagerly.
A quarter of a century.
To reaching my centenary.
Recorded automatically.
And stored within my memory.
Accessible only to me.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Invite me to your memory
Invite me to your memory,
I wish to know you.
Let the wind comfort,
let me be your comfort.
Let me into your memory,
I wish to feel you.
I feel like nothing but a memory in your mind.
The look you gave me while passing, still stays with me.
Invite me to your memory so i can see myself.
i am nothing but a memory.
Some day i will be who you will see.
Say again for me,
and you will see.
I am nothing but a memory.
poem by Ricardo Flores

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Trvelling down the memory lane
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Travelling down the memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Travelling down the memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Travelling down the memory lane
is college, fun and friend.
Travelling down the memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Travelling down the memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Travelling down the memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
Poet: Spandan Bhattacharyya
poem by Spandan Bhattacharyya

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Strolling down memory lane
Strolling down memory lane
Where the colors begin to fade.
Strolling down memory lane
Is where I want you to come along.
Strolling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind.
Strolling down memory lane
I won’t be afraid.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not lacking in color.
Strolling down memory lane
Is not a big bummer.
Strolling down memory lane
Not a storm in sight
Strolling down memory lane
is joy without bite.
A memory that I have created in my mind,
Stands the test of time.
Memories are like dream, a reflection of the past.
My memories can kiss my…
Ask me no questions I will tell you no lies.
poem by Taran Burke

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aaa1 you are, she is, I am She was (conversations in my head)
You are,
She is
The most beautiful memory
And you are
She is, the reason the words won’t come
You are the dream I let go
She was more than I can tell you
You are less than you believe yourself to be
She is two sides of the same story and more than she knows
You gave me just enough, just enough
She stole my respect without me realising
You had to have it your way
She knew my weakness, exploited it
You had the most perfect lips
I still see my finger tracing their arch
Your lips, your lips in bedroom shade
Let me tell you I miss her lips
You have no idea what you did to me, no idea
It still hurts, still hurts, still hurts
Your memory refuses to die, you won’t go away
She is my history, my beautiful, wonderful, painful history
That is what you are, history,
Painful history
poem by Bill Smith

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