The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.
quote by Cesare Pavese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beauty Of The Sky
Beauty of the sky, is the richness of the blue.
Deepness of the sky, is the richness of the red.
Darkness of the sky, is the richness of the black.
Freshness of the sky, is the richness of the rain.
Glimpses of the sky, is the richness of the stars.
Smile of the sky, is the richness of the moon.
Sparks of the sky, is the richness of the lighting.
Beauty of the sky, is the richness of the clouds...
poem by Manzoor ilahi
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Of Lies and Deceit
Words that break down
Life changing decisions
Haunting daily
A life on hold
Why the truth untold
For whose benefit?
Who decided?
But life continues
With memories haunting
When sleep won't come
And early rays of the sun appear
So the memories fade they say
More lies
For one learns to live
With these memories
Of lies and deceit
poem by Persian Khushi
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It's Not So Much
It’s
Not so much… “what” you feel
But the “way” that you feel it
Not so much “what” you say
But the manner in which you reveal it
Not so much “how” you loved
More so… how “deep” your affection
Not so much your memories…
More so the richness in your fond reflection
Not so much how long in years you live
But how full your life was… or is to be
It’s not so much in the “what”
But in the “how”… that you can see…
It’s that when I look out the window
Into the inky dark of night
that I can see far beyond the shadows
And the black velvet that blinds your sight
It’s the width….the depth…the height…the breadth
Of life that only age can make one better see
Tis therein that lies the difference… my friend
It’s the difference between thee and me
poem by David Whalen
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(Angry Poem) Angry Are Your Children Of Forgotten Memories
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
Needs become greed.
To succeed you must move past what has became another loss.
Hypnotic is a pipe dream
in which your will is fact.
It's a written contract.
Be there when it counts most.
So close
Yet so far away.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
What have you created
what have you instigated.
With a sickle in your hand
you swing at me.
Full force
full impact
lack of discretion
another life lesson.
Trust no one you don't really know.
Unless your ready to let go.
Being released from it all.
A hunters knife cuts the rope.
A hammer smashes the chains.
Nothing is ever in vain.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
A cut so clean.
The wound that continuously bleeds.
No matter pressure put on it.
My leukemia destroys all immunities.
Metaphorically speaking
metaphorically preaching.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
Destiny does not wait or ask you how you want it.
It just goes
flows threw all our veins.
Even with the the greatest change.
We still are powerless over it.
We continuously fight it
deny it
but only a fool can not see whats right in front of them.
It is what we have become right or wrong
It's who we are.
As much as we choose it.
We still have no control over it.
Angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
You say this is it,
then must have always been it.
From the beginning.
It's written in invisible ink.
Some fortunes can't be told
They have to be lived.
One day I'll understand what the draw was
but at this time
It's nothing but angry are the children of your forgotten memories.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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No Truth
I've forgotten of how truth sounds,
Some memories lay on my heart,
Distant, as lived through some other life
There are some fractured pieces
covered with lies.
I have forgotten truth's mild voice
And her appearance is fading too.
I stay phased in days
Weighing good from bad
Wrong from right
No truth to hold my hand and clear my sight.
I want to live and i want to die
No guides to lead
No comfort to soften the haze,
No truth to cool off the ablaze.
poem by Daria Domitrovic
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Today is Present
today is present, though you don't mind
the minute, the night, the occasion are
all fine, it is not but a wisdom of time that
you wait to come
like a dropp of tear's frozen in the wisdom
of time, where a birth of a child whisper in the
solitude of memories to be remembered that
you are present today
one has to believe that, today is called the present
time, a gift to be taken and be shared for all,
for it losses its precious meaning, if it ends in it
self; life is to live with others so that other may live
live it today, show the abundance of richness in you
for richness can't buy happiness, today is the day
that you can count all the things that money can't
buy........and today everything will be fine......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Free Like A Flying Demon
Im calling upon your attention
Now is the time, were talking serious redemption
Come follow me
Red light wasnt warning when I first saw her body move
I wasnt sure it was a jet stall.
I thought I had it all, now I am down and low
Memories on the wall, I have to let it go...
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
Why cant you see into the future?
Youre going to get hurt by someone who wont suit ya
They call it your destiny
But I am pretty sure now
That one whos lonely cant get hurt / is getting stronger
I thought I had it all, now I am down and low
Memories on the wall, I have to let it go...
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
Someday it might just work but this aint that time
This grounded flight is taking off, Ill leave you behind
Im free like....a demon....no more of them filthy lies
Just free like....a demon....this is the day of my life
Im free like....a demon....no more of them filthy lies
Just free like....a demon....this is the day of my life
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
Im free like a flying demon, no more of them filthy lies
Just free like a flying demon, this is the day of my life
song performed by by E-type
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories
Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories
Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories
Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories
Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories
Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours
Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too
Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories
poem by Adam McKim
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Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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Want-less is richness
Richness is in fewness of wants.
Richness is in paucity of wants.
Massiveness of wealth is not the scale.
Richer is a hermit than a king.
16.04.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Edith Conant
We stand about this place -- we, the memories;
And shade our eyes because we dread to read:
"June 17th, 1884, aged 21 years and 3 days."
And all things are changed.
And we -- we, the memories, stand here for ourselves alone,
For no eye marks us, or would know why we are here.
Your husband is dead, your sister lives far away,
Your father is bent with age;
He has forgotten you, he scarcely leaves the house
Any more.
No one remembers your exquisite face,
Your lyric voice!
How you sang, even on the morning you were stricken,
With piercing sweetness, with thrilling sorrow,
Before the advent of the child which died with you.
It is all forgotten, save by us, the memories,
Who are forgotten by the world.
All is changed, save the river and the hill --
Even they are changed.
Only the burning sun and the quiet stars are the same.
And we -- we, the memories, stand here in awe,
Our eyes closed with the weariness of tears --
In immeasurable weariness!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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29
(jesse valenzuela)
Time wont stand by forever if I know its true
And Ive learned not to say never
Or else Ill seem the fool
Twenty-nine youd think Id know better
Living like a kid
When my lies may seem less than clever
Is when I fall for it
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Some rides dont have much of a finish
Thats the ride I took
Through good and bad and straight through indifference
Without a second look
Theres no intentions worthy of mention
If we never try
So hang your hopes on rusted-out hinges
Take em for a ride
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Only time will tell...
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chronicles of A New Day part 1 5 years from now
5 years from now forgotten
maybe after so much time
out of the cage out of the pen
no longer trapped by word and rhyme
childish infatuations all but forgotten all gone away
no more saying this day how fey!
only today
here we... w...
at this time i ask how
could i get to this here and now where memories fade
where debts are paid
love songs forgotten away with the wind
now blowing blowing forgotten feeling blowing farther
is this my future?
poem by David Knox
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Where Is My Angel?
The angel has spoke to me again
She’s always here
Even when she’s not
The love is still never forgotten
Swimming though time
Never totally out of my mind
Someday we will be together again
Lost so deep with memories meant to keep
The angels has spoke me again
Whispers in the night
Such a delight is the pain I feel in my heart
It lets me know I’m still alive
It gives me a reason to survive
No matter how much my life is torn apart
I’m still standing
I’m still moving
She is my strength
The angel has spoke to me again
She has the voice of the wind
Swaying in an out
But never gone for too long
I think she misses the life we once had
We gave it our all but as children
Our kingdom had to fall
Rules of society made it
To where it was never meant to be
Lies in all our hearts
She keeps whispering
Calling for the forgotten world
To collide
Swallow the pride
Pray for no more suicides
A chance for the dance we never had
All washes away like
Picture on a postcard
The angel has spoke to me again
She’s always here
Even when she’s not
The love is still never forgotten
Swimming though time
Never totally out of my mined
Someday we will be together again
Lost so deep with memories meant to keep
The angels has spoke me again
Whispers in the night
Such a delight is the pain I feel in my heart
It lets me know I’m still alive
It gives me a reason to survive
No matter how much my life is torn apart
I’m still standing
I’m still moving
She is my strength
Where’s my angel now
Where’s my angel now
Where is she please come back?
Your life so short
Your life already gone
The angel has spoke to me again
She’s always here
Even when she’s not
The love is still never forgotten
Swimming though time
Never totally out of my mined
Someday we will be together again
Lost so deep with memories meant to keep
The angels has spoke me again
Whispers in the night
Such a delight is the pain I feel in my heart
It lets me know I’m still alive
It gives me a reason to survive
No matter how much my life is torn apart
I’m still standing
I’m still moving
She is my strength
Where’s my angel now
Where’s my angel now
Where is she please come back?
Your life so short
Your life already gone
Oh where’s my angel now
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The best richness is the richness of the soul.
quote by Muhammad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Anonymous Voices
The truth from a
Child
Watching intently
Unknown observer
Where
Death in the valley
And
Laughter from
A
‘Drunken’ soldier
‘Be killed
Or
Surrender’
Voices
Vibrate in anger
While the silence
Of weakness
Chock every soul
In every
Corner
Forgotten lines
Forgotten lives
Poverty without
Richness formatted
The purity of the answer
While the shoeless
‘Wanderer’
Speechless
Breathless but
Somehow
Still believing
That
This round of
‘Humanity’
Will
Evolve
Beyond their cruelty
Beyond revenge
And
Beyond their ‘hate and
Anger’
poem by Najib Altawell
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The Agony Of An Okada Rider
You have taken away my
means of livelihood.
My means of living confortable.
What is your gain
in my pain?
What is your fame
in my shame?
You say i take lives,
but you have forgotten how
many lifes i have saved.
You say it is a sign of poverty,
but were is the job opportunity?
You say i destroy roads,
but i can't remember seeing any
bike weighing more than a tipper.
You have forgotten how
i eradicate latenessless,
how i pass through traffic
jams without delay.
You have forgotten places
where your public transport
won't take.
Distance where human leg
would trek and ache.
You have forgotten the
helmet you gave.
You have forgotten.
Our little hope,
you have crushed,
leaving this memories
to linger on.
Now i to have to start all
over again.
From grace to grass.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Bullets And Kisses
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Heat seeking missile are only sent destroy.
Man less drones are deployed.
Books to a religion burned.
Peace will be destroyed.
It is impossible to avoid.
Unrest on steroids.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
You want to trust and be trusted.
But you have no understanding of a culture.
You disrespect it everyday.
You create martyrs by your mistakes.
With every action you make it just escalates.
Fear spreads like fire in a very drought ridden forest.
Let me ask you how do you plan on exactly putting out?
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
You must get out.
It was never your responsibility.
We are not the divinity.
We are not here to save you.
With so much blood on our hands how can we still be wearing that cape?
Do we not understand what is at stake?
We just continue to create pure hate.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Greed is why we are sending our soldiers away from home.
Controlling chaos.
A symphony of stealing while their not looking.
If we are their long enough soon or later we will corrupt.
And that´s just little messed up.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.
Slavery can be bought and sold.
Back door deals.
A fake government at least thats the way the people feel.
And are they really that off target?
After all they are the are people.
A pulse beating, breathing life into their own country.
My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten...,
Yes they are already dead, stale, and rotten.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Books Of Color
autumn leaves falling
in slow spirals to the ground...
books of color and richness,
turning brown, waiting on sleep.
the sea of hungry human faces,
reaching out through the darkness...
books of color and richness,
turning brown, waiting on sleep.
the souls of the weary
fall like tiny flakes of snow
covering the stillness with hope....
for a new spring,
new books of color and richness....
from the seeds of memory
of those that have gone before!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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