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Faithfulness to the past can be a kind of death above ground. Writing of the past is a resurrection; the past then lives in your words and you are free.

quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Don't Know Where The Past Is Gone

I don’t know where the past is gone
I only know most of my own life is over-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know so many people I loved
Are no longer here and will never be here again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know that that chance I had that hope for so many years
Can never be mine in the same way again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
So many moments of beauty and love and opportunity missed and longing unrealized-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what of it I should miss
And why I should long for it so.
I don’t know where the past has gone
And where my life was lost and why I did not do better in it-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what will be when for me
Everything is only the Past gone

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Allen Ginsberg

I have been listening to you, Allen Ginsberg
I can still hear you whistling a radio tune
I can follow you through history thoughts of yours
flow into mine
I follow you past WWI
and through the Battle of Versailles without a second glance
Past Hitler Mao Nietzsche Reagan Gogol
past Whitman Kerouac and Carson
I watch as you nod to Ghandi
And converse with Pope Paul VI and Nelson Mandala
We drift past Central Park quickly changing seasons
past Chicago streets and cute little back country California homes
I watch the death of many a thing beside you
i watch you connect you think you
Writing Howl, writing America, writing Death & Fame
I watch yourself deteriorate in body
but flourish in mind
and as you flourish i flourish
And we grow together and I follow you
and then you vanish
into the grape vines at the back of the fence

poem by Lex Newman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past

Past is past.
It never comes.
It helps us something to learn.

Past lives may hurt us.
But It never ruins us.
Don't fight the past.
Let it go, always be simple, always be inspired.

There is no point going with the past.
There is the point going with present.
Past determines nothing.
Present determines something.

poem by Yash Pradhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past Lives

An angel came to me last night
She saw me in a different light
She showed me things I thoughht I could be
Are not a million miles away
As surely as night follows day
It follows, Im a king not a slave
It is another case of dj vu
It seems to happen everyday
It all comes back to me whatever I do
Theres always been a price to pay
Past lives, past lives
You can never put the ghost to bed
Get the feeling that you live, forever she said
Past lives, past lives
Rub my stomach while I pat my head
Get the feeling in your mind
When youre out of your head
And to the eastern side of the bay
My shadow is sailing away
Treasure possessions and money to burn
I wont be taking these with me
I hear the echos and Ive nowhere to turn
After all Im at sea
Past lives, past lives
We can anchor off the coast she said
The storm will pass and the fog will clear in your head
Past lives, past lives
You can never put the ghost to bed
Get the feeling that you live forever she said
In another world when dreams collide
To the mocking bird of faith we tied
She comes to pass but not to stay
Through the looking glass, she fades away
Welcome to the house of usher
An angel came to me last night
She sold me down the river of life

song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Multicultural Melbourne

Melbourne Immigration Museum

I stroll,
Past history,
Past lives,
Past stories.

I see for the first time MY nation’s history,
My nations courage,
My nations suffering,

My eyes glaze over
And realisation creeps up on me.
I see stories of the past and present,
Played out before me,
The lives of Australia’s people,
Australia’s history

poem by Katie Anne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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MY Words of Wisdom

Smile and you meet no enemy; they just wonder and walk away.

Secrecy is bait to suspicion but limit yourself of being too open.

Past cannot be undone as its words and actions could only be repeated: the good ones to be remembered and the ugly ones should be eliminated; these are reasons why there is future and present.

Every second past by our decisions, statements, and judgments,
there is always the “IF” in the core of our regressions.

The past is a part of our lives that we indulged to happen, which we cannot change but to live with it as example for the youth

poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Past Carin

Now up and down the siding brown
The great black crows are flyin',
And down below the spur, I know,
Another `milker's' dyin';
The crops have withered from the ground,
The tank's clay bed is glarin',
But from my heart no tear nor sound,
For I have gone past carin' --
Past worryin' or carin',
Past feelin' aught or carin';
But from my heart no tear nor sound,
For I have gone past carin'.

Through Death and Trouble, turn about,
Through hopeless desolation,
Through flood and fever, fire and drought,
And slavery and starvation;
Through childbirth, sickness, hurt, and blight,
And nervousness an' scarin',
Through bein' left alone at night,
I've got to be past carin'.
Past botherin' or carin',
Past feelin' and past carin';
Through city cheats and neighbours' spite,
I've come to be past carin'.

Our first child took, in days like these,
A cruel week in dyin',
All day upon her father's knees,
Or on my poor breast lyin';
The tears we shed -- the prayers we said
Were awful, wild -- despairin'!
I've pulled three through, and buried two
Since then -- and I'm past carin'.
I've grown to be past carin',
Past worryin' and wearin';
I've pulled three through and buried two
Since then, and I'm past carin'.

'Twas ten years first, then came the worst,
All for a dusty clearin',
I thought, I thought my heart would burst
When first my man went shearin';
He's drovin' in the great North-west,
I don't know how he's farin';
For I, the one that loved him best,
Have grown to be past carin'.
I've grown to be past carin'
Past lookin' for or carin';
The girl that waited long ago,
Has lived to be past carin'.

My eyes are dry, I cannot cry,
I've got no heart for breakin',
But where it was in days gone by,
A dull and empty achin'.
My last boy ran away from me,
I know my temper's wearin',
But now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin'.
Past wearyin' or carin',
Past feelin' and despairin';
And now I only wish to be
Beyond all signs of carin'.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Breath by Breath

Our moments are precious and
Our time is now.
Use it wisely and use it well!
There is no connecting the past
And future. The presence is the
in-between and only lasts but
Less than a breath.
The presence is so fast,
a blink of an eye and it is the past!
Then are we really living our future with
each inhale and our past goes out
with each exhale?
Are is it really just a pretence of presence?
Future - Past,
Future - Past,
Future - Past!

poem by JDarrell Kirkley
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Past paved way for the future

Past paved way
For the present
Shall become past
To pave way for future
The cycle never stops
Present always
Compared to past
A better future
Wished by all
What will come?
Nobody knows
Hope and desire
Never ends
Brings light in eyes
And smile on face
Light or darkness?
Is a question
Answer to which
Nobody knows
One thing is certain
If one lives
Shall become old
Perish with time
Become memory
Of the past

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Past

I can never let go of my past because my past has marked me

Every time I look down
Every time I look over
There is my past

The notches
The bold the non-mistakable scars
…the scars
My past

Each and every one has a story
Each and every one has a memory
Each and every one has brought tears to my eyes

For no story nor memory are of happiness, triumph, or glory

No, they are of fear, anxiety, self-hatred, paranoia, and loneliness

I can never let go of my past because my past will always be part of me

poem by Scarlet Mo Chroi
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I Have Nothing To Say To Your Pain

i have nothing to say.
i will sit beside you and just look at your face.
i am at loss of words
there is no punctuation to ease the wreck
of the sentences of pain not breathing anymore to rest
but always wailing as though there is no end to your paragraphs.

what words are needed, i ask myself, to ease your pain?

i was there. i am still here. Past lives that still haunt
secretly in the furrows of our foreheads.
was i a nomad in the sahara?
was i a king in one of the kingdoms of Java?
have i killed a brother? or a father?

why are my hands trembling like some stilt houses
in the rivers of Kwai?

i am hearing voices from the deepest caves of India.
The past is not past. It is still here in the present
trying to tell me about what is there that i have not seen.

i look at you again. You have slept in my arms.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live In The Past

For those who are destined to live in the past
Each 'What could have been? ' is amassed
To a degree where no other timeframe can last.

'If onlys' overshadow the present so that today
Is doubted, then cursed; finally withering away.
The resulting void means they'll never have a chance
To even hope for a future to unfold and advance.

Not an instant or an inch of the past can be changed.
This is why it's sad for lives the past has rearranged.
For these tragic lives it actually can be said
That with no present or future they're virtually dead.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Gone

Everything of the past is a memory gone
Remembering my past will only be a sign of weakness
Now life is so cruel, that the past has left no meaning
I am very alone and that is how I have to live my future life.
Anything which reminds me of my past, is to be stayed away from
That is the best and the only way to survive.
If I said I still do love you
Then it would be a big lie now
Since, now the love which I had for you has actually turned into hate
Earlier I loved you a lot and very truly
Now I do not love you
As a matter of fact, the hate is so much that the pain of the past is like a volcano
Which will just blast, if I ever again came close to you
Stay away my past, you are my memory, which is gone.

poem by Rohit Sapra
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Livin' In The Past

Happy, and I'm smiling, walk a mile to drink your water.
You know I'd love to love you, and above you there's no other
We'll go walking out while others shout of war's disaster.
Oh, be forgiving, let's go living in the past.
Once I'd used to join in every boy and girl was my friend.
Now there's revolution but they don't know what they're fighting.
Let us close out eyes. Outside their lives go on much faster
Oh, be forgiving, we'll keep living in the past.
Oh, be forgiving, let's go living in the past.
Oh, no, no, be forgiving, let's go living in the past

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dark Past

My past is dark
It's full of pain and tears
My past is my story
My past made me stronger
People still don't know why my past is dark
But I will tell you
No more hiding for me

My past is red stained razors
I admit I did cut
But, I will no more
My closest friend was the only one that knew
Me and her alike in so many ways
We helped each other through thick and thin

My future is bright and happy
I am loved and always will be loved
In my future I will not shed a tear
For I will be surrounded by loved ones
My past is erased I have no regrets
My life is better oh..so much better

poem by Jasmine Kayleen
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From The Past To The Future

From the past to the future
From the future to the past
It's comforting to know
That I am not alone.
For my God is there
To help me, to guide me.
He was there in the past
He will be there in the future
To all of those
Who believe in Him.

I am Qalme Tari Mistress of Death Nat Norville.
Cretics Welcome

poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past Unlocks Future

Past Unlocks Future

Past unlocks Future

The birds fly in the sky
the water flows down the valley
The mountains open wide
Nature feels free

the trees are green
The ocean is clear and blue
Nature feels free
I have no fear for my pass will be free

Love and faith is what it takes
Through the caring and touch of God I'll make my way
nature becomes free
in Jesus name my future is free
thanks to God past is gone and forgotten

poem by Gregory PierreJerome
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Our Past Lives On With Us

We may not be in prison yet we are not truly free
For of our past we are prisoners that's how 'twould seem to me
Bad memories always haunt us they never go away
Until the Reaper claims us they are with us to stay.

For many childhood memories are full of mental pain
Their heavy cross of sorrows through their lives with them remain
Children of war and famines they cannot forget their past
Their living nightmares with them linger though few other things seem to last.

Children of abusive parents bad old memories in them stay young
They live remembering their traumas and die as the unsung
Their innocence stolen from them in their childhood of tears
Bad memories still with them undimmed by the passing years.

We may not be in prison though it would seem to me
That we prisoners of our memories of our past we can't be free
Until the Reaper claims us good and bad memories with us stay
Our past seems to live on with us and it never goes away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Have You Ever Been?

Have you ever been
Tied to the past
Striving for the future
Yet stuck in a holocaust

Have you ever been
Living two lives
One in the past, hidden from all
One in the present, to show them all

Have you ever been
Loved so pure
To hold, is all you want to do
Yet you let go, for love is true

Have you ever been
Content! !
Content of the past and the present
Or do you see yourself linger, from one to the other end...

Have you ever been...?
Have you ever been...?

poem by Mien Bless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Dance With Past

Destroyed and alone i walk to you my past
With opened arms i run to you my past
I knock the doors of distances
There behind them painful memories lies
May can i catch the last chance
To hug the memories of the past
And make with them my last dance

For the last time to try
To arouse the misty pity
And the constancy of the past
To revive the inscrutable pain of the past
May for last time i can remove that insensible gauzy veil
That lies there like an insect between and around
the misty pity of the past

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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