A Park Bench
Sitting on a park bench
in an old favourite haunt,
reflections of the past drift
by on origamic clouds in the blue.
Stripping back the years
to fragmented pictures of a time so far away.
Dewdrops on petals sparkle
under a morning sunrise
as waking creatures scamper
across the plains of Solomon's heights
where mushrooms create
fairy circles in the shade.
Captured by the moments
time slowly slips away
into the partitions of yesterday
when young lives knew
no boundaries they could not reach
in their quest for heavenly love.
Pictures of youth sail past
in momentary glimpses
as years entangled with the fury
within responsibilities reaches
and age wears on the body from youth to old.
As still above us the sky remain solitary.
The sea moves on its solitary quests
as our frowns grow deeper on our foreheads,
and still lies a park bench holding
in all the raptures of the young and old
who sat upon it to ponder for a while
on the thoughts of their lives.
25 October 2012
poem by David Harris
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The Old Man
The old man sat on a park bench
just watching the people pass by.
He did it day after day
alone in everyone's eyes.
He would smile occasionally
but no one ever knew why.
Everyone who saw him
wondered why he sat so still
and just looked out
at everyone who passed him there.
The old man sat in repose
from dawn until dusk fell.
He sat there in the summer sun
and as winter's bleakness fell.
He looked for some face
he might remember from his past
so they could reminisce for a while.
Sadly, the years slipped away.
Everyone spoke about him,
but no one ventured to talk.
Then one day the old man
wasn't on the park bench
and he was nowhere to be seen.
Now a different question was asked.
Day after day, the bench was empty.
Where had the old man gone?
Had he simply passed away?
The questions remained unanswered
because no one ever stopped
to enquire of his name.
I would like to think
that in the dying hours
on the park bench one day
that he had found
what he was waiting for
and then happily he faded away.
12 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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Memories On A Park Bench
He sat on a park bench
just to pass the time away
when he saw her there
from the corner of his eye.
She was older now,
but her beauty had not faded.
She turned in his direction
and he smiled at her.
At first, she looked at him strangely
until there was recognition.
She smiled back
and then joined him.
They sat there on the park bench
the sun smiling down on them
as the daffodils swayed in the breeze.
For both of them came a flood
of memories of when they were young
before the world spirited them away.
Both had walked down many roads,
had some hard knocks along the way.
Both recalled them now
the way old friends meeting do.
As they sat there
recalling memories from happier days.
All too soon they would be parting
and as they would go,
they would take with them
a little of each other
in the form of memories
that they acquired on a park bench.
5 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Park Bench
Sitting on a park bench,
the fragrance of the grass
scents the fresh air.
It makes you look more closely
to everything that is there.
The beauty of the day,
white clouds, no black ones of dismay.
A breeze that bends
every leaf and petal to and fro.
Then there are the colours,
a multitude of green.
Everything assaults our senses,
every smell and flower there.
The sun is over my shoulder,
blue skies, and no clouds in sight.
As I sit here on a park bench
enjoying everything, I see.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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I Love Them All
While lookin into my drawer only yesterday
You know, the things that I saw made me cry
I saw the pictures and letters,
I should have known better
Than to try to deny
I love them all
I love them all
And if they came again
Id do the same again
cause Im that kind of a guy
And as I walked through the park where we used to play
You know, the bench and the tree are still there
And the pictures that you did,
Why am I so stupid?
They wont ever disappear
I love them all
I love them all
And if they came again
Id do the same again
cause Im that kind of a guy
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
whom could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has come to haunt me, to remind me
of shut scented rooms,
of past sensual pleasure - what daring pleasure.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer here.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people, feelings
of the dead so little acknowledged.
Half past twelve. How the time has gone by.
Half past twelve. How the years have gone by.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Youth Always Wins
Generational change
wins always
because the old and middle-aged
develop a clouded lens
and can' t see Now
because focused on Yesterday.
Is good advice for Youth Now
consist of lessons learned yesterday,
when yesterday no longer exists?
Can we tell the Young that yesterday
is relevant
when all yesterday is dead and gone?
How can we council that the old views
and yesterday make sense
when conditions have so changed
have been rent,
mangled beyond
recognition?
Young people
as they must
absorb much from us,
but their capacities
and needs are so much greater
than our meager philosophies present.
For the first time in history
young people are smarter
than their elders who
barely know how a computer works.
First time in history the young
are wiser than the septuagenarians.
Generations are additive
and while all youth stands upon
our shoulders
it also means they can see further
than we
planted on the ground below.
We see ground level and the past-
they see above the clouds to that future-ness;
and we complain
because we know in our Youth
we did
exactly
the same thing
against our parents
who always thought
they too,
knew best.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Still Around
Do you remember what you said to me the day I met you
Like yesterday I still can hear your voice, you promised to be
Still in my life no matter what you had to do to be there
Well, it's been a while and here we are lookin' back on times that we shared
I still imagine us being young and so in love
Never apart, you were my heart
Seems like it's always just been us
Chorus:
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Still around (yeah)
I still believe in all the things you said to me in those days
You gave me love and kept your word with every promise you made
I sing your favorite song inside my head when you're not with me
Until you come back home and take me in your arms and hold me
I can imagine us being old and still in love
Never apart, you are my heart
Makes me smile, we're still in love
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Looking back through all the years
(Man speaking):
Heh
You remember the first time I went to your house
And your father looked at me like I had three heads
(And I will never forget the day)
Heh
We were so in love
(Looking back through all the years)
You were so beautiful and so young
(And I will never forget the day you came into my life and what you said to me)
I can't believe you're still mine
That's crazy
I love you
I remember we were in the park (we were in the park)
Holding hands and you said to me (holding hands)
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete (and I would your life complete)
If I said I'd be your girl
You would stay with me forever (I'm still your girl)
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around (I'll never let you down, my baby)
I remember we were in the park
Holding hands and you said to me
I'm the only thing you need
And I would make your life complete
If I said I'd be your girl (said I'd be your girl and)
You would stay with me forever
Boy, you never let me down
Through it all you're still around
Still around (yeah)
song performed by by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Getting Old
When you’re young you think you know it all
Then you get old and life begins to unfold.
In their youth they don’t think ahead
The future is something they do not dread.
They feel that everything in life they can control
They’re young and strong and very bold.
Aaaah! Those beautiful days bring back memories
Of how simple life used to be.
Youth had respect for the elderly
And their fellow man.
Now the elderly they try to scam.
When they are older they will see
They want respect and to live with dignity.
they are young and they don’t seem to understand
That with age you may need a helping hand.
Everything in life comes in stages
It’s like a book when you turn the pages
It gets deeper and keeps you enthralled
Until the time that you reach the end
And you’ve lost all your family and friends.
The First stage is when you are a child
And someone is taking care of you for that while.
The Second stage is when you become a teen
And you feel like a king or queen.
You feel that you can not get old
This is what you believe at this stage in your life
Because you’re not looking at the struggles and strife.
The Third stage is the adolescent years
And you feel you’re in control and lose your fears.
The final stage is when you become old and gray
And your youthful years have slipped away.
You look back and ask yourself!
where did All those years go?
Why did I waste so much time?
And the most important thing is
That I am so glad I made you mine
For with you by my side I had a life divine.
So to the youth who have not gotten to this stage
Don’t get angry, and get rid of your rage.
There is no way to turn back the time
For time just moves straight ahead
You’re getting to the point that you now dread.
WELCOME TO OLD AGE! HA-HA
poem by Louis Rams
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What The Future Holds For Us
What the future holds for us we are not to know
But our past it goes with us to where-ever we go
Your best years in life to the forever gone
But your past in your memory it is living on
Many friends of your past you may never more see
But they do remain young in your memory
And for as long as the gift of memory you retain
Mental pictures of them with you will remain
But the present is what matter as some are known to say
And only in memory we have yesterday
And tomorrow at dawn the songbirds will sing
But who knows what tomorrow for us will bring
But we will live till we die like the sheep or the cow
And we only can live in the here and the now.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Happy Childhood Memories
Happy childhood memories the best memories of all
And my younger years in Millstreet I will always recall
On evenings in Summer up to the mid Fall
In the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic football
My friends of my youth where might they be today
Like me have the years left them balder and gray
Though some of them in the home Parish did stay
In life one might say we just went our own way
Since those days so many years have come and gone
And time does not wait it just ticks on and on
Many of the friends of my youth I may not see again
Though good memories of them with me does remain
And in fancy I chase the football up and down
With my happy young friends in the Park of the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Razel’s Plan Might Backfire
I was walking through the park one day,
taking pictures of Melodie & Emeray.
Yes, Emeray was posed on the bench,
sending Melodie secret messages.
See, Emeray was apart of the plan,
to help Melodie understand.
Razel needed help getting her
blood back to warm.
Razel cast too many spells
and now she felt harm.
Now leaving Central Park on
this cold November day,
I realized I needed more footage
for everything was cold and grey.
This spring I will have Razel landing
in the park,
with her spaceship in the dark.
Now stay tuned for more adventures
to transpire,
hopefully Razel’s evil ways
does't backfire.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.9,2011
at 10: 22pm.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Family Pictures
Don’t you just love old family pictures?
Dug out from dusty box or chest
I don’t think there is anything else
That can compare – they’re the absolute best
There is nothing like those black and whites
The photos from the past
Of course we know from history
That nothing ever lasts
Time moves on, of course it does
But pictures can live without end
They keep our families together
They are one thing that we can depend
Family pictures are such treasures
They take us back in time
They put us in the moment
And let the past unwind
As I go through several lifetimes
And look at my family’s history
I’m so thankful I have these photos
They help unravel many family mysteries!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Joy Of Their Laughter
The children are playing football in the park off of the street
The joy in their laughter it does sound so sweet
'Tis true youth is such a marvellous thing
Like the flowers of the fields that bloom lovely in Spring.
The joy of their laughter bring back memories to me
Of happy boyhood days of any cares free
In the Town park on Summer evenings we kicked the football
Such wonderful memories are good to recall
The years went so quickly and time did not wait
And I've grown grayer and slower and I'm putting on weight
The future belongs to the youth of today
Though they too will grow to learn that time quickly ticks away.
Some of those I went to school with now with the dead lay
And some are grand parents and their grand children play
The games they themselves played they run up and down
In pursuit of the football in the park by the Town.
As I walk to the bottle shop for to buy beer
The laughter of the children playing football I hear
Their best days approaching and mine in the past
But time keeps on ticking and nothing does last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Idle Son
Young Benjamin left school this year
And stepped right in a job;
And he starts in hope of a life career,
Like his eldest brother, Bob.
But Sam, the lad who came between,
Born in the fateful year 'thirteen,
Still vainly seeks a place;
And the mark of his fate, too plainly seen,
Dawns in his listless face.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In the year of the world's black rage
To rob his youth of childish mirth;
And another curse was on the earth
In the year he came of age.
War and depression, this grim twain,
Have clouded life for a bright young brain.
Life smiles for Benjamin and Bob,
Each lucky in his age;
But the count of years falls ill to rob
Same of his heritage:
Too old for a youth's apprenticeship,
Untrained, too young for a man's firm grip,
Tho' a man in stature grown,
He lives to see his chances slip,
Thro' no fault of his own.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In a black year came from school.
But we who know past years of ease
Hold stern responsibilities
Ere his youthful ardours cool.
Ours is the duty, ours the task
To yield what youth has right to ask.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Old Friends
==============================
Simon & Garfunkel - Old Friends
==============================
(2:35)
P. Simon, 1968
Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends
Old friends
Winter companions
The old men
Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city
Sifting through the trees
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends
Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy
Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear...
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crime Is A Spiritual Problem
If we go back in time
with all of our past lives-
we will find the answer to why
we have committed a crime.
Also if we heal our energy field with hands
we can go in and remove
heal all that is stored there
more so then we can understand.
Doing so we heal the physical body in return
this is something I will do and learn.
Written by Christina Sunrise on October 26,2012
www.suzae.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Youthful Clarity Warping Into Light Speed
young poet of brilliant light
I enjoyed your feeling passion
anger thoughtful meditation
warping into light speed
times x factor in your youth
burn flame encompassing
immense boundaries
across spaces uncharted
my poems of such youthful clarity
insight intensity have gone
since been lost in supernova light
years past written upon cosmic pages
circumstance history stripped away
at time shatters - event horizon black hole
leaving not even tears in the margin
plasma spectrum light matrix indelible ink
old bones no longer bake such fresh bread
to feed youth who bake their own recipe
for need in new thought seeding breadcrumbs
new horizons blazing on the hillside before dawn
new wonder awaited viewed at point focus rock
light years apart in young poet is same fixed star point
at stone henge we stand together computer defined
our stone circles spin matter through time like crop circles
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Blah, Blah, Blah
Goodbye-goodbye
blah, blah, blah...
In the shortness of his breath
all desperation was taking place
I walk off
looking far into space
The game is over
nobody-no one-
scored
we all lost
Then in a notebook
while sitting
on a park bench
an old man jots down
a poem about lost youth
past loves and better days
meanwhile
the sun crossed the sky
east to west
and the day was never seen
or heard from again
poem by Midnights Voice
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