En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Forty-Two Years

From a distant land I came
over an ocean that stretch out.
Relatives at the airport greeted me,
their arms stretched out with love.
Years disappeared beneath our feet.
Then like a magic carpet,
we were transported to a reunion.
On air we seemed to walk,
years vanished in moments of handshakes,
each face, that of a stranger, now family.
With each new, face recognition of an older past,
something to build on for years to come.

22 August 2001

Author’s Note:
This poem was written on my Aunt’s back porch on my first visit to Canada after 42 years.
DVH.

poem by David Harris
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My Canadian Chronicles 002

It was instant recognition
We just looked at one another
and instantly the years melted away.
With open arms, we hugged
neither wanting to let go.
A wonderful sensation
and then the talking began.

7 June 2009

Author’s Note: This depicted the first meeting at the airport of a classmate Suzanne Gaddess after 51 years.

poem by David Harris
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Perhaps I'll Never Again See Old Clara Mountain

I'm getting on in years and looking older even than my age of two years with three score
And perhaps I'll never again see old Clara Mountain and climb the high fields up through Claramore
In Claraghtalea I started my life's journey but I'm not to know where and when that journey will end
In sixty two years I've known a lot of people but not everyone I've known I'd call a friend
I often think about the Town of Millstreet where mine once was a fairly well known face
Though there today I well might be a stranger a stranger even in my old Homeplace
I am one of many migrants from Duhallow for to try my luck in the big World out there
Duhallow people are known to be travellers and one from there one could meet anywhere
I often think of those I went to school with many of them the grandparents of today
Perhaps the years have left them looking older even some of them with the departed lay
It has been many years since I've last seen them the years eventually do tell on all
On looking back our young years went so quickly and for everyone of us a final Fall
Perhaps I'll never again see old Clara Mountain or walk in the fields where the rank rushes grow
In Claraghatlea I began my life's journey but where and when that journey will end I'm not to know.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Early Works - Old Friend, New Times

Face?
I’ve seen it somewhere before
.
When?
In the distance long ago.

Who?
Someone who used to visit me.

Friend?
Almost positive a friend of a kind.

Speak.
“Hello stranger, how are you? ”

Surprise.
“Haven’t we met somewhere before? ”

Nod.
“Oh, yes, now let me see.”

Years.
“My how they have changed us both.”

Remember.
“All those good time that we had.”

Memories.
“Vaguely in the long dim past.”

Drink?
“Not tonight I’m afraid.”

Goodbye.
“Been nice to see you.”

Au revoir.
“Yes, we’ll have to meet again.”

10 June 1979

Author’s note.
This piece reveals the feelings of a meeting with an old friend whom I had not seen in eleven years.

poem by David Harris
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A Poem Can Be Written Anywhere, Anytime

A poem can be written anywhere, anytime-
A poem can be written too early in the morning
While waiting in Talpiot for ‘Rami Levi Supermarket’ to open-
It can be written in one’s head in a frozen Army barracks in Beit El
Or in a small room on Rav Berlin St on an old Smith- Corona
In the first happy years of one’s marriage-
It can be written for years from Haganah St. in French Hill
In the family years and the lonely ones
It can be written walking by the sea in Tel Aviv
With small children in hand-
It can be written on the same shore years later when one’s life has been broken
By Love’s desertion-
It can be written in old age on Rehov Shahal in Givat Mordechai
As one takes joy from the birth of one’s first grandchild-

A poem can be written anywhere anytime-

I have been writing my poems in Israel
For more than half a lifetime-

May those too
Who come after me
Read and Write Poetry here.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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At My Aunt's Unveiling

AT MY AUNT’S UNVEILING

At my aunt’s unveiling
There were five of us
Only five
One was a woman
A friend of hers
Not the closest one
But someone who knew her
And wanted to be a friend.

Thousands of people had known my aunt
Hundreds had worked with or for her
She was born into a large family
But all of them were gone
Or out of it.

My sister and I were the relatives
My aunt had been very generous to us
And difficult for my sister
Who cared for her.

I had only been a taker all the years.

My aunt worked so hard for so many years
And she was ‘somebody’ in her world

There were five of us there
And the ceremony short
No minyan.

There was no sign of my aunt’s smile
Or her nervous energy or her superabundant love
‘Moll ‘as my mother called her
was not there.

I see her so clearly in my mind now
‘What does it all mean? ’ my father would ask my mother
after reading of the death of another person they knew

‘What does it all mean’

When my sister and I go
The memory of my aunt
Will be gone forever.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem -Written On The Small Pad

THE POEM / WRITTEN ON THE SMALL PAD

The poem/
Written on the small pad
In the almond tree park
Intersection Disraeli- Alkalai
The poem of the past days
The poem of the light – rain beginning,

Another Jerusalem poem-
Four- thousand years of Jerusalem poems
I from Troy, New York
Thirty- five years in Israel
Nearly sixty- eight years of age
Write.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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For a Lost Poem

Dedicated to the poem 'Moon Light' that was written a few years back.

For a Lost Poem
A poem written long ago –
disappeared on the face of the earth
as if it never existed – but somewhere
beyond this skyline it did;
where the moon sits, and shines its light –
this poem has been erased from history,
from where it was put into storage.

Oh poem, I feel a loss for you!
Where have you gone? Oh where have you gone?
Moon Light, once many people read,
and praised me for such delicacy,
now she is gone too.

As if death has to come with:
the darkening sky, oh ye poem –
ye selfless poem come back and
let the light shine upon you.
A poem has gone, but where?

poem by Celine Berghmans
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Years 1

For years I let the torment go on
Years I let you get in my head
Years I had to cry myself to sleep
your out now and last night
what you did to me replayed in my head again
I told myself i wasn't going to let it happen but it did
For years I have lived in scared quarters
For years I have looked for your face
For years I have never felt safe
For years I have remembered

poem by Marissa Ford
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The Lie

For William Verdun Harris
My late brother.

It started years before I was born,
but the lie came into being after.
I knew nothing of it, why should I?
You never question your parents,
what they tell you, you believe.

Therefore, the lie grew and grew
as years folded into one another.
The lie became accepted as the truth.
Its hurt would not be felt
before four score and more had passed.

A Christmas card with a note from an Aunt.
Your half brother Bill would love to hear from you.
Half brother? I have no half brother.
He is your adopted brother
and my adopted uncle, so I was told.

No, he is your half brother.
I investigated what was said.
Soon the truth of the lie was revealed.
The lie had split two brothers,
to the other sides of the world.

Through urgent phone calls, I found him.
I had to see him, too many years had passed.
Who knows how long we had?
Travel plans were made,
the journey was now set.

After forty-two years, we came face to face.
Hug, tears and a family get together.
Those lost faces from the other side of the world.
We talked and talked into the night,
so much to learn and so little time.

Two weeks went quick and we parted again.
The telephone a communication line,
but how do you make up so many years,
with such little time?
The answer is you don’t.

The next year we extended our visit,
but still it wasn’t long enough.
We would never get another year,
within months my brother was gone,
and for months, I missed his calls.

But the lie was never retracted,
and my sister never got to know,
the other brother that she had.
She still believes the lie,
and won’t accept the truth.

She does not talk to me,
not out of anything either of us has done.
The long distant lie is at fault,
the guilt no one could admit to,
because they felt it would bring great shame.

Now a family lies in tatters,
a sad story all that remains,
about a lie, which almost the truth became.
What will the future bring, that’s something we can never tell.
I for one, hold no one with any ill will.

poem by David Harris
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Years We Wished Away

Sometimes we’d like to go back,
reclaim the years we wished away.
Reflecting on the fun,
we could have enjoyed
instead of trying to be
older than what we were.

Reclaim the years that were lost
to crazy wishes that we had,
thinking it was better to be
older than what we were.
Instead of enjoying our childhood
and the games, they play.

Now as we grow older
and our youth is what we grasp.
We wish that we were younger
in the cradle of our childhood
and all those precious times
in the years, we wished away.

(30 August 2011)

poem by David Harris
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A Friendship Awakens

Sometimes it takes many years
for a friendship to awaken.
Many heartaches lay behind in its wake
as years go tumbling by.
Then suddenly the friendship awakens
and grows and grows and grows.
Feelings extend along a path
that was never there before.
A wealth of unconditional love
opens many doors
and your arms stretch out to embrace
what should have been there before,
but will never subside again.

27 October 2008

The poem was written for a very special friend
whose friendship took over forty years to awaken.

poem by David Harris
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Beyond My Years

I cannot think beyond my years
but every day that goes
I look back on the younger years
and am encouraged by those.

For the past becomes the bridges
that brought me to today.
I don't burn the bridges behind me
for they've shown me the way.

I keep my focus on present moments
and never on the past.
Even the moments that I'm living now
are ones that will not last.

The future is always the unknown.
It's a time beyond my years.
Unfamiliararity with what will come to me
are my adventures with new frontiers.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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My Brother

Some moments are more momentous
than ever you could believe.
They are so great
that they take your breath away.
It started with a letter from an Aunt
who wrote and said your half brother Bill
would love to hear from you.
I did not have a half brother.
She had that all wrong,
the only Bill I remember
was adopted by my grandparents.
He was her half brother not mine.
However as it turned out
she was right and I was wrong.
For over fifty years,
his existence had been kept from me.
In the proceeding weeks that followed,
I found his address and then his telephone number,
then I phoned him.
For the first time in more than forty years,
I spoke to him.
At first, he could not believe it
and was sad because I never knew about him,
though he did know about me.
He thought I did not want to know him.
I made plans there and then to see him.
In 2001 we had our reunion
and I went back to see him again in 2002.
I could not go back to see him anymore
as my brother Bill passed away in 2003.
They say as one chapter closes another will soon begin.
In 2006, another chapter began,
but that is another story.

13 November 2008

poem by David Harris
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The Face

You take a final look around
And then you put your house-key down
Upon the table by the note
You take your handbag and your coat
You don't want too much to carry
To slow you down on the way

You picture his face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before

Why should you want to call your friends
Why should you want to start again
You tried explaining through the years
But it would always end in tears
And one thing you know for certain
You've said goodbye to that place

But still
You picture his face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before

Somewhere a telephone
Is ringing in an empty room
Miles away
You are looking at a new town
But you are thinking of the past
The rain is falling down
Why do you keep that photograph

Of his face like a stranger
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before

His face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before
His face like a stranger
You didn't know what to say
So you are going away
From the face of a stranger
And not the lover you knew before

His face
In the morning
As he was going to work
Without saying a word
You saw the face
Of a stranger
It wasn't always like this before

song performed by by Anni Frid Lyngstad from Shine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem

All I can do now is write another poem-

The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-

Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-

A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-

Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-

But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-

I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-

All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-

Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hopeless Bleak Despair

I never knew what everybody meant by endless, hopeless bleak despair
Until one day when I found out
The first time I ever left my house
It saw me and followed me home
And stayed with me for my whole life
For years and years I wandered the earth
Condemned to a life of bleak despair
Then one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
All I had ever wanted in my life was only to be free of it
It drove away my family
It made me lose my job
Whenever anybody saw it
Theyd say get out of here
For years and years I wandered the earth
Sick of my life, looking forward to death
The one day I looked around and found
It had disappeared
All this bleak despair
It was always there
And then one day it disappeared
In a puff of smoke
In an unceremonious way
One day it disappeared
For years and years I wandered the earth
Until I died and went to hell but my
Despair had ascended to heaven
Thats how I finally got rid of it

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Five Years

Pushing thru the market square, so many mothers sighing
News had just come over, we had five years left to cry in
News guy wept and told us, earth was really dying
Cried so much his face was wet, then I knew he was not lying
I heard telephones, opera house, favourite melodies
I saw boys, toys electric irons and t.v.s
My brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare
I had to cram so many things to store everything in there
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people
I never thought Id need so many people
A girl my age went off her head, hit some tiny children
If the black hadnt a-pulled her off, I think she would have killed them
A soldier with a broken arm, fixed his stare to the wheels of a cadillac
A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest, and a queer threw up at the sight of that
I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlour, drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, dont think
You knew you were in this song
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of ma and I wanted to get back there
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, youre beautiful, I want you to walk
Weve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
Weve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, thats all weve got
Weve got five years, what a surprise
Five years, stuck on my eyes
Weve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, thats all weve got
Weve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
Weve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, thats all weve got
Weve got five years, what a surprise
Weve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Weve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, thats all weve got
Five years
Five years
Five years
Five years

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Next Thirty Years

(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years

song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Times

Our Times

13.7 billion years ago
4.5 billion years ago
3.5 billion years ago
200 thousand years ago
10,000 years ago
5000 years ago
3500 years ago
1800 years ago
500 years ago
50 years ago
One hundred years from now
Five hundred years from now
Ten million years from now
Ten billion years from now
We are where we are now
Where are we now?
Who are we now?
What will we be?
When?

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Accustomed To Her Face

Out of the dark I see a face
one of beautiful and sincere complex
I wish I knew when that face would come
and guide me to a better place.
This face, I seem to know from somewhere
It still exists, not only as a figment of my imagination,
but rather, one in a desperate situation for me.
That face whose is it? but someone's
Those eyes, what do they see? but a story
Her mouth and lips, what could they do?
but speak and smile to me.
That expression, whose is it? but mine to see;
I try and understand the message conveyed.
Has it ever occurred to anyone that it might be the one for me?
In a world of fantasy I deem she's mine,
but who else could she belong to?
I find it hard to realise the position
of what I have witnessed has put me in.
Who would possibly keep her away from me?
but someone like myself, I'm sure she knows.
It is the only answer I can offer.
Then I may have a twin in the world;
perhaps my one and only adversary
in my love dream yet to come true.
The face has gone back into the gloom
Her face has gone...............................

Why did she appear as if with news?
Back into the past I think for clues....
Not just to haunt or torment me it seems
but to remind me that she exists in reality.
Not only just as someone out of my dreams
making the hope of finding her an actuality.
---------------
Note: A very early poem written over 35 years ago

poem by George Krokos
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