Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.
quote by Lionel Hampton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the tip of your tongue.
You know, you know but can't explain
Just how or why you came to gain.
The facts stored in your memory.
Odd facts stored subconsciously.
For no good reason seemingly.
Stored away haphazardly.
Though ev'ry fact our mind has stored.
It had some reason to record.
A nugget added to the hoard.
A vast accumulation
Of useless information.
We very seldom call upon.
But when we do it's sad but true
We find that we cannot renew.
The direct link that leads us to.
The word or phrase we want to find.
Amongst those hidden in our mind.
The system is not well designed.
We can't recover what we've stored.
Our efforts totally ignored.
Our mind decides it can't afford.
To grant unlimited access.
Although it leaves us free to guess. The reason for such stubbornness.Thursday,12 April 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Valleys Of The Mind
Search the dark channels of your mind
Where anything you seek you shall find.
Hidden feelings and thoughts
that you felt had been erased
Is now in another place.
A picture frame of everything that
you’ve been through- is stored in there too.
Your mind is a library of knowledge
Where everything is stored for future use.
It holds your hopes, your dreams, your ups and downs
This is where it’ll all be found.
Loves you’ve lost, and loves you’ve gained
No two are ever the same.
Take a ride through your mind
Of different places and different times.
Then there are times when you can peek
Outside of your mind, and have your life become defined.
The valleys of the mind is a complex thing
But with each turn a memory it brings.
When you take a vacation from the
Stresses of the times, it’s because
You’ve had it in your mind
poem by Louis Rams
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Gratitude is the memory of the heart.
quote by Saint Mary Euphrasia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are the only species on the planet, so far as we know, to have invented a communal memory stored neither in our genes nor in our brains. The warehouse of this memory is called the library.
quote by Carl Sagan
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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Tears of Memory
Descried the mum who
blazed my mind fifty years back.
The stored memory
flowed down from our eyes sparkled once.
Smiled, shook hands but be silent!
-------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart rendered to God for his goodness.
quote by Nathaniel Parker Willis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thoughts on a memory
There is so little I can say,
and yet so much thought
has gone in today.
How the mind wanders
on the different alleys.
To retrieve a thought, a memory,
it's brought forth in vivid view,
to haunt my tormented soul..
I cling to the memory
of the almost-nothing.
Thinking it through
to create the almost-something.
As the days draw by
I think of that single memory.
I ponder on thoughts,
I know I should not have.
Yet, when the heart beats yearningly,
don't we all return to the memory?
To that single moment
when one word could make,
a whole new memory?
poem by Ranger Lady
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The library of memory
and then in between remarks,
you fall silent, still, the eyes
not far away but rather,
seeing the faraway right here
and those who know you
or who know the feeling of themselves,
know where you are
how describe that place
where a lifetime’s memories are stored,
clean, precise, waiting, neglected, seemingly forgotten?
is it a castle; a linen closet; a box room, that place in the inner mind?
rather, it seems a library, of the books that life writes
and there comes a moment in between remarks
when the present offers nothing, so it seems;
and your mind leaves the assembled company,
walks into that quiet room, its shelves so carefully arranged
by someone unknown to you, a librarian
who knows you better than you know yourself;
I sit down in that green leather armchair, quietly;
but such the power of the memory of you
the pure essence of the memory of memory itself
that I need not reach to take that well-read book down again
but simply glance towards that place; on that shelf; where it rests;
sit, for a minute of eternity; rediscover myself;
then rise; walk, the back erect, dignified;
the stature taller for the memory of whom I am;
turning the smooth handle of the door as it closes, and
beyond all love, the watching;
freedom that makes the whole world live anew
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Am Quiet In Gratitude To God
I am quiet in gratitude to God
Saved again
Near tears in tears
Grateful to God
And trying within
To let the Gratitude be everything
And forget for a time
The fear that will return again-
Quiet in Gratitude to God
And wanting that Gratitude to be everything.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Forgotten Scar
The day his mark faded
From its place upon my skin
His hold on me was lifted
The love my heart once bore for him
And the pain my mind told me his memory brought
Along with all the marks he left upon my body
Faded to a distant memory
Now and forever gone
He is nothing to me
Nothing
Now he is only
A faded and forgotten scar
In the memory of my heart
poem by DiAnne Douglass
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ALZHEIMER'S ZONG(for my old pal Al)
'The soul bone's
connected to the heart bone! '
'The heart bone's
connected to the mind bone! '
'The mind bone's
connected to the bone bone! '
'The bone bone's
connected to the thought bone! '
'The Thought bone's
connected to the Time bone! '
'The Time bone's
connected to the memory bone! '
'The memory bone's...'
'The memory bones...'
'... memory's bones...'
'Now where have all
the words
...gone! '
*******
I used to look after someone with Alzheimer's and she used to sing this over and over and chuckle to herself until the wordsand she gradually faded away and there was no enough memory and wit to sustain the song or her any longer.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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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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Reality (Naani 25 syllables)
The heart is the storage house
Of deepest thoughts, feelings
The eyes mirror them
But the lips open the gates.
'The good man brings out good things out of the good stored up in his heart; the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart, the mouth speaks.'
Luke 6: 45
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Within The Recesses Of Our Mind
Deep within the recesses of our mind
are little pockets
that store the essence of our time.
On odd occasions,
they unlock their barrier
and set some of our time free.
Things of what we’ve half-forgotten,
voices that we’ve heard from long ago,
love we’ve had and lost.
Times we wanted to remember,
but were lost from our memory
that have been stored
deep within the recesses of our mind.
11 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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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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Graceful Pillar
Grace has a pillar of obvious concentration,
Of stone it is built, of a soul and mind it stored.
Grace may live among houses
Where the pier of gratitude is,
Everywhere goes the sea of thankful grace.
Grace has a stationary title of sun and star,
Of goggles the eyes of grace do speak,
Hated is a craving for height, of weight, of general size.
Grace may be open like a shop,
Or the pier of handsome repose is taken by waves
To be eroded and expelled from the land and sea.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Always Be Mine
Now its the time for me to let you go,
I am done and over it,
But somewhere in my memory,
I have lost in time,
Somewhere in my heart I know you were always been apart of me,
You'll always be mine from the bottom of this broken heart I once called it mine,
You'll always run through this mind I once thought of,
No more holding on to things I can not have,
Somewhere in your heart,
I was once was your girl,
Somewhere in my heart you were my man,
Don't forget about me baby,
Maybe you'll realize I am the girl you need,
In deed I may sound obsessed but you have came into my mind,
You'll always remain in my heart that has torn into two,
You'll always be mine in this memory,
The memories that need to fade,
Fade within these walls,
Baby will you always be mine?
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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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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What Is Pleasant And What Is Painful
what is pleasant
what gives pleasure
the mind records memory of;
what is painful
what gives discomfort
that too
the mind records memory of;
and the mind learns to crave for one
and to recoil from the other
and so our lives are formed
from every pleasure, from every comfort
and every choice we make;
there is nothing there in our lives
but craving and recoiling
and the mind that sees this conditioning
that mind is free of traps
that mind is free of memory
it recognizes the way it is made to operate
poem by Raj Arumugam
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