The history of my life must begin by the earliest circumstance which my memory can evoke; it will therefore commence when I had attained the age of eight years and four months.
quote by Giacomo Casanova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Revolving (Nafaka)
There's a reason for joy
consider the circumstance of life
there's a reason to remember
the circumstance of life
there's a reason to understand
the circumstance of life
revolvong revolving
in the shade of reasonong
the circumstance of life
a bitter taste of captivity
consider the circumstance of life
the breath widens the freedom
consider the circumstance of life
the feet can move the hands can touch
finally
consider the circumstance of life
revolving revolving
in the shade of feelings
the circumstance of life
pulling the trees
down the roads of darkness
killing the pain
in the shade of a cage
revolving revolving revolving
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our History
If my history would end here
I know
your history will begin.
Our history
happens not at the same time
how I wish I could see
what history you will make.
If my history would end here
I know
your history will begin.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black History Month must be more than just a month of remembrance; it should be a tribute to our history and reminder of the work that lies in the months and years ahead.
quote by Marty Meehan
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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If you're going to spend seven months of your life - for me seven months, for Roland Emmerich, 3, 4, 5 years of his life - doing something, I think you have to have something to say.
quote by Jake Gyllenhaal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play, Book, Poem Or Song
Sometimes little snippets
from our life gone by
can fire our imagination
and make our words fly.
A certain song can evoke
a memory of yesterday
and we will remember a bit of life
that has gone away.
Different scents and aromas
can do the same thing too
and make us travel back
to the days of our youth.
The harshness of any pain
we may have suffered yesterday
time has diminished it slightly
as it moves along its way.
However, with each memory
and inspiring thought,
from it grows into words
for a play, book, poem or song.
9 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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And Let Me See Your Circumstances
She said
'How will I know that I love him'
and she said 'you'll know at the time.'
'What time will that be
and why does Time have to be
the decider of my love needs? '
'When your body is ready
and the time is right-
and the person is right-
you will know
and you will be ready for love.'
'So' she said 'love is circumstance? '
'In some ways.'
'But if circumstance is what is required
what about me? she said.
My dear.I said, 'Romeo and Juliet fell in love in a bad
circumstance and all died in the end.
So circumstances matter.'
But I think love is irresistible
outside rationality.
Love is Ultimate Mystery.' she said.
'Only in the young.' she said
'As we mature
especially near 30
love becomes mostly circumstance
and moved mostly by rationality.'
'So are you saying maturity dictates
that we choose from among partners
available then
and is more decision than
true love's mystery.? '
Ah what I am saying
is that while young we choose
from mystery
and after the divorce
we are more governed by circumstance.
And choosing in weighing circumstance
is the height of rationality
and the opposite of mystery.'
'Ah' she said 'then in the end
all you are offering me is hard truth
and circumstance? '
'
No, I am saying love
is first wasted on the young
who cannot afford Love's Circumstances
and Love in later years
is given only to Youth's Survivors who
fight their way through
and beyond circumstance.
That is the real definition of maturity.
True Love survives Circumstances
and does not become
its victim.
'Oh, ' she said.
That too
is a hard truth.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Forever—it composed of Nows
624
Forever—it composed of Nows—
'Tis not a different time—
Except for Infiniteness—
And Latitude of Home—
From this—experienced Here—
Remove the Dates—to These—
Let Months dissolve in further Months—
And Years—exhale in Years—
Without Debate—or Pause—
Or Celebrated Days—
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Domini's—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A letter to My Dad
Dad it's been twenty years,
since you have been gone now
when ever I think of you
the thought, brings tears
There's so much to tell
you, I don't know where to begin
two months, after you died
we had a son, he's so big now, I'm in a spell
I wanted for you, to meet my wife,
in a way you did, only at your funeral,
by then, it was to late
strangers were we, but never any strife
Between us, there was no hate or any love
many wasted words had we
I would like to mention, we have a daughter,
and she's sweet as a dove
Remeber the day, that you gave me old shep
he was a very fine dog
for a long time, I had him
for many years, he had a lot of pep
After nine years, he died too,
seems like ever thing I love
dies sooner or later
and that makes me feel, very blue
You don't realize, how much you love
some one, until their gone,
and then they
fly away like a dove
Toward the end, we had some good talks
you told me many things i didn't know
at your farm, on our many walks
You told me how you played ball,
it must have been something,
to have played back then
my son, dad like you is very tall
I have a very happy life
dad, I wish you could meet
my son and daughter,
also my wife
Dad, it's to bad, I didn't know you better,
too many years were wasted
and I should have told you, I love you,
so that's the reason, for this letter
written June 18,1990 In Memory of my dad Elmer W. Foulk
Born September 13,1904 Died October 10,1970
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When We Live to Learn and Respect
When we live to learn and respect,
All benefits of life to us are given.
And we are able to succeed,
Through any circumstance.
It seems to me...
Over the many years of my own observation,
Those who know love are the most successful.
Whether blessed to have a yacht...
Or sitting in a park tossing peanuts to pigeons.
When we live to learn and respect,
All benefits of life to us are given.
And we are able to succeed,
Through any circumstance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Power Failure
Tonight I write by candle light
I am forced to by circumstance
Although the light is not too bright
I find that it gives me a chance.
To compare my life style today
with what I recall from my youth.
Reluctantly I have to say
If I should tell the honest truth
The simple life of yesteryear
may be a pleasant memory.
I much prefer my life today.
I need a brighter light to see
Advancing years have dimmed my sight
I dote upon electric light.
21-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Forever
it's been days and months
it'll be years...forever
no one leaves unless they're left
the abandoned don't like
emptiness they stay with
filled with days and months
days and months and years
forever
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Through Her Eyes
Nicholas:
She never really had a chance
On that fateful moonlit night
Sacrificed without a fight
A victim of her circumstance
Now that I've become aware
And I've exposed this tragedy
A sadness grows inside of me
It all seems so unfair
I'm learning all about my life
By looking through her eyes
Just beyond the churchyard gates
Where the grass is overgrown
I saw the writing on her stone
I felt like I would suffocate
Inloving memory of our child
So innocent
song performed by by Dream Theater from Metropolis Part 2: Scenes From A Memory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MP: What would you do if you woke up one morning and you couldn't remember who you were? What life would you choose to live if you could live any life you wanted? If you could hold on to just one memory, what would that memory be?
line from History's Future, script by Fiona Tan (2016)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The happiest years of my mother's life were spent in Washington, D.C. It was where she met my father, where John was born and where I spent my earliest years.
quote by Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daughter
9 months i carried you
An 9 months i waited for you
9 months later
With 6 hours of labor
Here you are
So cute an so small
My little girl you are
3 years i held you
In my arms you were
In fear and tears
Were you wrapped safely in my arms
Now nearly 4 years later i lose you
My little girl taken away
You were tortured an beaten
left alone to die
You came of a crime
An i didnt love you any less
You changed my life so much
An as fast as you came
You left me so soon
I spend my days down
Crying every minute without you
When i should be holding you
Showing that i love you
That i will always be there
But instead i cry an cry
Placing flowers on a grave for you
My daughter you were made
My daughter you became
My daughter you are
Whether here or far away
My daughter you will always be
poem by Kerrie Maurer
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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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