Next door, there's an old man who lived to his nineties and one day passed away in his sleep. And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days and passed away. I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong.
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I Belong To A Dream Whose Time Has Passed
I BELONG TO A DREAM WHOSE TIME HAS PASSED
I belong to a Dream whose time has passed-
Even if I realize it in old age
It will not mean that much.
A hundred billion human beings or more
Have lived and died on this earth
I am just one of them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Storms Have Passed
the days are getting cloudy for me,
storm clouds over my head,
so dark, i can barely see,
the storms have passed by me.
the swetness of life, has passed me by,
of my life, the storms have went,
and i look forward to when i die,
the storms have passed me by.
of the Lord, i'll meet and see,
to be with Him, ever more,
and there, i'll never need to plea
the storms have passed by me.
Trapped In Time
Where has time went?
It seems like one night,
I went to sleep,
and the next day,
40 years passed away.
Am I trapped in time,
feeling like I don't
belong here, out of
place sort of.
Time has passed me
by, like a speeding
train in the night.
Somehow need to
deal with all
these changes
that surround me.
Need to catch up
with the present, before
really am trapped in time.
Far Memory.
I’m haunted by strange memories
of places I have never been
I can remember vividly
Street scenes I know I have not seen
It’s very strange and puzzles me.
I cannot see how possibly
I have access to memories
I know do not belong to me.
I see street scenes from long ago.
Though where they are I do not know.
The clothes are unfamiliar.
To me they seem peculiar.
I think it may be Budapest.
But honestly that’s just a guess.
It could be almost anywhere.
But I am sure I’ve not been there.
My wife suggests telepathy.
I do not see how it could be.
A temporal anomaly
which can’t exist apparently.
The learned experts all agree
it’s an impossibility
But can’t explain how I can see
Scenes from the eighteenth century.
I have a photograph which shows.
People in old fashioned clothes.
Which was taken in old Moscow
More than a hundred years ago.
Establishing the verity
Of the intrusive memories
The scenes I see so vividly.
Though how remains a mystery.
I know they are real memories.
Although the experts disagree.
I hope to prove eventually
these memories have reality.
They are passed down genetically.
Encoded in our DNA.
I will research my family tree
and try to prove it come what may.
Although it’s just a theory.
I will pursue it ardently
Some body in my ancestry
may well turn out to be.
A man who lived in old Moscow
Who emigrated to the west.
Although perhaps I’ll never know.
It gives my life an interest.
I like to think that there might be
somebody in my family tree.
Who will prove to be the key
which will unlock the mystery.
Of who perhaps I used to be
in the eighteenth century.
Which would explain the memories
apparently passed down to me
Saturday,21 August 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The days have passed
The days have passed won and lost,
In a gesture copied to whatever love takes,
And memories wait to be quietly rescued,
From a lifetime of irreconcilable urges.
A worn vow parted from my heart,
And rolled into a tighter clasp,
To bind my soul still against the dying light,
Bruised with fierce tears I cannot gasp.
Perfect deeds within the obituaries,
Are as grief flown away on wings to the future,
Parting from the past like crystallite meteors,
Caught our memories and sank the waning fear.
The days have passed your home at last,
But we will always have the happy hours,
And carry each other’s secret at all cost,
In the wind and shadow that passes.
And sailed towards the isles that wait for me,
In beauty sleep the days have passed,
And the night is fast approaching eternity,
To where new life will conquer, win and lost.
poem by Gerry Legister
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Cambodia
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Well he was thailand based
She was an airforce wife
He used to fly weekends
It was the easy life
But then it turned around
And he began to change
She didnt wonder then
She didnt think it strange
But then he got a call
He had to leave that night
He couldnt say too much
But it would be alright
He didnt need to pack
Theyd meet the next night
He had a job to do
Flying to cambodia
And as the nights passed by
She tried to trace the past
The way he used to look
The way he used to laugh
I guess shell never know
What got inside his soul
She couldnt make it out
Just couldnt take it all
He had the saddest eyes
The girl had ever seen
He used to cry some nights
As though he lived a dream
Ans as she held him close
He used to search her face
As though she knew the truth
Lost inside cambodia
But then a call came through
They said hed soon be home
She had to pack a case
And they would make a rendez-vous
But now a year has passed
And not a single word
And all the love she knew
Has disappeared out in the haze
Cambodia - dont cry now - no tears now
And now the years have passed
With not a single word
But there is only one thing left
I know for sure
She wont see his face again
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I The Only One
Days have passed
And still no sign of us
Not a hint of what used to be
When you lived in that part of me
This blinding silence
Lives in every room
Of what once was a happy home
Now we're sitting here all alone
Could this be that it was all a lie
And we're just afraid to say good-bye
[Chorus:]
Am I the only one
Who sees what we've become
I see no sense in going on
Or asking what went wrong
We sit and stare at what could be
We both just grew apart you see
And through no fault of our own
It's our house but not a home
It's strange to know
There's truth in what I say
Baby
song performed by by Marc Anthony from Marc Anthony
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dooms Day
Many a times
I passed through trouble
Many a times
I passed through pain
I was exploited
I was was humiliated
I was condemned
I was consumed by mystery
My wings were taken
So i couldn't fly
All i eat all day was my cry
I asked myself why
And there came a voice saying
In your affliction
Will you learn right
In your oppression
Will you rise how to fight
The sun shines at day
And stars at night
Arise and see the light
After six comes seven
I passed through hell
Before i could see heaven
I did not know that my worries
Will lead me to my haven
Many times
I passed through trouble
Many a times
I passed through pain
poem by Matt Ancient
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Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the road Which to discover we must travel too.
The Manger Mouses Story
john john the story telling mouse
sat high on a toadstool house
telling the story as it was told to him
and at the children he did grin.
he started to tell the story of peter mouse
and how story telling came about.
this was the story as it was told to me
and been passed down throughout our history.
when the angels came down to bless
the child in the barn, they did not see.
a distant relative of you and me.
he was peter mouse who would
crawl into the barnyard house.
he was there putting away his goodies
at that time, and everything that night was going fine.
when entered the human couple
with all their belongings on the donkeys back.
the man human started piling up the hay
where his wife would now stay.
from his hiding place he could see
that her stomach was as big as can be.
he laid his wife down upon the hay
and to the lord he did pray.
he said: ' this is the only place
that we could find, and it's just about that time.'
soon afterwards she felt the pains
and prepared herself for what was to come
our GODS first born son.
this manchild was as beautiful as can be
and above the barn a star shone so brightly.
he saw a choir of angels come down
'and praised the child on the ground.'
then he saw the shepherd boy
and soon three kings from afar
who followed this shining star.
the angels blessed all that was within
and he felt a chill begin.
they stayed until she felt fine
then through the mountains they did climb.
peter mouse was right in back
never stopping or letting up slack.
he saw this child grow up to be a man
and preached GODS words throughout the lands.
he followed every step of the way
and witnessed all that JESUS had done
from dawn to setting sun.
JESUS had seen him many years back
and from that day forward
carried him in his pack.
he lived to be a hundred and ten years old
and told the story to all his fold.
since then its been passed on
from generation to generation
for he has been our salvation.
poem by Louis Rams
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To Those Born After
I
To the cities I came in a time of disorder
That was ruled by hunger.
I sheltered with the people in a time of uproar
And then I joined in their rebellion.
That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.
I ate my dinners between the battles,
I lay down to sleep among the murderers,
I didn't care for much for love
And for nature's beauties I had little patience.
That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.
The city streets all led to foul swamps in my time,
My speech betrayed me to the butchers.
I could do only little
But without me those that ruled could not sleep so easily:
That's what I hoped.
That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.
Our forces were slight and small,
Our goal lay in the far distance
Clearly in our sights,
If for me myself beyond my reaching.
That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.
II
You who will come to the surface
From the flood that's overwhelmed us and drowned us all
Must think, when you speak of our weakness in times of darkness
That you've not had to face:
Days when we were used to changing countries
More often than shoes,
Through the war of the classes despairing
That there was only injustice and no outrage.
Even so we realised
Hatred of oppression still distorts the features,
Anger at injustice still makes voices raised and ugly.
Oh we, who wished to lay for the foundations for peace and friendliness,
Could never be friendly ourselves.
And in the future when no longer
Do human beings still treat themselves as animals,
Look back on us with indulgence.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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Strange Days
Strange days have found us
Strange days have tracked us down
They're going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town
Yeah!
Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it
Yeah!
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
song performed by by The Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Days
Strange days have found us
Strange days have tracked us down
Theyre going to destroy
Our casual joys
We shall go on playing
Or find a new town
Yeah!
Strange eyes fill strange rooms
Voices will signal their tired end
The hostess is grinning
Her guests sleep from sinning
Hear me talk of sin
And you know this is it
Yeah!
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strong Points
To perceive astounds my life of love,
Stars happen on the event of my eye.
Strong travel has passed, and torture
Is passed, and future is passed,
The past will be passed,
As time, the fifty-ninth dimension,
Shall fully tug at the strong mind,
Alien after alien entered for me.
The perception is strong, stronger for the
Points taken, a nature of strength
Is any when.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Which Life Do You Live?
Most people are so unaccustomed to speak the truth.
For many of them...
This is all they know.
A tradition of sorts.
Passed through the family,
As common as gas is passed.
With each scent identified by the doer.
~Women 'poot' they do not fart! ~
Well...
I knew a few women who 'stank'!
And it didn't matter who 'pooted' or farted.
Or if that even made the difference.
For those of them who are like that!
~Focus.
Stay focused, please.~
And,
If they began to become forthright and honest...
Most people would lose their friends.
Jeopardizing relationships of all kinds.
And many of them would end.
~Like marriages?
Perhaps? ~
While others would lose complete identities.
Since those lives lived have been totally prefabricated.
~Why are you staring at me?
Which life do you live? ~
My own!
And without references.
Preferences, yes!
But...
Without references!
~Why are you staring at me? ~
'Cause you all up in my 'grill'
Like you belong in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Belong To Me
Verse 1
Why'd you tell me this
Were you looking for my reaction
What do you need to know
Don't you know I'll always be your girl
You don't have to prove to me you're beautiful to strangers
I've got lovin' eyes, of my own...
Chorus
You belong to me
Tell her - tell her you were foolin'
(You belong to me)
You don't even know her
(You belong to me)
Tell her that I love you
(You belong to me...)
Verse 2
You belong to me
Can it be, honey, that you're not sure
You belong to me
Thought we'd closed the book and locked the door
You don't have to prove to me That you're beautiful to strangers
I've got loving eyes of my own (of my own...)
And I can tell - I can tell darling...
Tell her... tell her that I love you
Chorus 2
(You belong to me)
You belong... you belong... you belong to me
(You belong to me)
Tell her you were foolin'
(You belong to me)
Tell her she don't even know you
Chorus 3
Tell... her-tell her you were foolin'
(You belong to me)
I know you from a long time ago baby
(You belong to me)
Don't make me go to her house
(You belong to me)
You belong, you belong, you belong to me
Repeat to Fade
You belong to me...(You belong to me)
You belong to me...(You belong to me)
You belong to me...(You belong to me)
You belong to me...(You belong to me)...
song performed by by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Do Or Not To Do
To do or not to do
I have been having
Some strange thoughts
The past couple of days
Thanks to an incident
With a credit card
And my checking account
I am almost tempted
To go for broke
And say the hell with it all
Bankruptcy could not be all that bad
Could it
I was thinking I could move to Mexico
For a few years
And pay a couple hundred toward rent
And a Mexican shrink
And have plenty left over
For senoritas and beer…LOL
Wouldn’t that be the life
I wonder what that might be like
I wonder what the wife would think
I don’t think she would like that
One bit
Well, I just thought I’d let you in
On some of the crazy thoughts
Racing through my head
Any suggestions
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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With a Building of Fences Resistant
You lived in a pretense kept distant.
With a building of fences resistant.
Your isolation devastated.
And away from me you stayed.
You occupied your mind with limits.
And within those limits,
You created defenses.
And today time from you has passed.
As those traps set for others,
Have come to surround your beliefs.
Along with your aspirations trashed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forever Sleep
You drifted into that forever sleep
away from the harshness of this world.
You now abide where angels sing
in the comfort of our lord.
Friends you left behind miss you
and will only be reunited with you
when their time comes along.
You earned a rest
beyond the sunset of your days.
Those you left behind smile
as they recall the humour in you.
A trait that will be passed down
as long as there are ears to listen.
Rest now my friend you earned it,
let the blanket of love from our lord
surround you always in his kingdom
in your forever sleep.
23 January 2011
Author’s Note:
This poem was written as a tribute to a friend of forty years,
who passed away on January 10 2011.
poem by David Harris
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A Sad Return
There are many sad tales
of trains taking people away,
either to fight a war
or just to runaway.
As the train pulled into the station yesterday
there disembarked a passenger
who had been for a long time
on far distant shores.
Coming home to see his family
after years of being away.
He ran along to his door,
tried to inser his key into the lock,
but the key no longer fit.
He knocked on the door.
Strange faces answered it
of people he did not know.
He asked about his wife and son
who used to live there
not all that long ago.
The couple looked at each other
and offered him in for a cup of tea.
When he was comfortable,
they broke the sad news to him.
His wife and son were no longer living
because she could not live without him
she took her own life and their son as well.
He would find their graves
in the cemetery at the bottom of the hill.
As he places some flowers on their graves,
he said a little prayer
for God to look after them
until he too would meet them
at heaven’s door.
poem by David Harris
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