The Old Photographs
I sit and look at photographs of relations that used to be,
Some I remember from childhood, some related more distantly,
Their faces often smiling, or serious and stern,
Some looking very peaceful and gentle in their turn.
There are a few in sepia tint, but a lot in black and white,
And looking at their expressions, one does start wondering quite
What it would be like to meet them, and ask them how things were,
When they were living in those days, to me it's just a blur.
Work then was very arduous, long hours and little pay,
They did'nt have the 'luxuries' that we expect today,
Up with the lark, weather fine or foul, cold or sweltering heat,
Walking many miles to work, gathering blisters on their feet.
They had no central heating to keep away the bitter chill,
And they had no reliable medicine, if they were taken ill,
There was no NHS* to care, they were out there on their own,
And if they really needed help, they didn't have a phone.
Washing by hand was physically hard, when winter started to bite,
The wash tub and the mangle, were really no delight,
They must have been much stronger and tougher, in those days,
But even so, they must have been worn out in many ways.
They didn't have the appliances, to help them get things done,
Their daily chores took up the day, and I'm sure that was no fun,
They went to bed, when the dark set in, unless with candles lit,
They would gather together around the fire, and talk a little bit.
Knitting, crochet and embroidery were for women folk to do,
During the spare time that they had, perhaps they enjoyed it too,
For there were no television sets, but a piano was highly treasured,
With a pair of hands upon the keys, with what songs they could be pleasured.
And then along come the marching soldiers, of the first world war,
Did they have any inkling, of what there was in store,
Their once so steady lifestyle, turned so upside down,
Bombs descending on the city, devastation all around.
The twenty-five years later, a world war once again,
To have to go once more and suffer, the worry and the pain,
The having to begin to put, their hearts back into living,
And try to not be bitter, and to think about forgiving.
So these photos tell a story, and if I could only seek
To know just how they lived their lives, if they could only speak,
I'd be so interested to know, and if they could only walk
Straight out of the photographs, then we could begin our talk.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Gossiper
(9/15/12)
She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.
She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.
They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.
She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.
That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.
Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.
There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.
One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.
(the comical moral of this story)
: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Granite Melting
He had a face of chiseled granite
complete with stony smile
that face is embedded in my heart
which lies clutched here
in the long dark night;
frozen he and frozen I
know I should throw that face into the slough
in the back of the house, walk away
wash my hands with lava soup
and be clean of him.
But he lives in my mind
high up on Mount Rushmore
and I know chipping away at that
is hopeless work;
hearts love what they love
and at some point
they don't go back
to unloving
ever
even if you want them to.
And,
I am not sure I want to.
So long gone he is;
so long he's been inside me
I can't take him out
without doing even more damage
to this beating heart.
So I try to wall off the hurting part
and put tiny little roses over the hurting parts
remember the fun times
and I place
my smile
just over his grainy grin
these two
together in there forever its seems
despite my best effort
to separate them.
Can't talk about it
Can't tell anyone,
they'd say
and have said
I should forget him.
T'ain't easy
cause he's been there so so long;
taking him out would feel like heart surgery
and I am not ready for that just yet.
Some times other people
can just ladle over the scar tissue
and move on
I ain't that kind
cause this heart once given
keeps giving on and on
even when it oughtn't,
seems my kind of love
is not for the taking back.
I thought for a time it was
but all it took
is this one phone call
and the awkward silence on the line
tells me it's you.
But you didn't talk
and I hold the receiver to my heart
just to be closer to you.
And you still didn't talk
and neither do I.
We never did talk much
so this is not new.
I lay back
gentle breathing
listening to our hearts beating;
silent reconciliations
seems fitting for us two.
I take your quiet
silence to bed with me
receiver in hand
knowing you'd do
what was hard for you to do
in your own time
and I just might see
granite
for the first time
melt
maybe.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk Away
I gave you three years of my life
You always said I'll be your wife
What ever happened to the days when I felt sad for
Everyone knows my name
I haven't changed, I'm the same girl I was from the start
Everything's rearranged you came and changed it
And gave me a broken heart
CHORUS
You don't wanna work it out, no
You wanna take it easy, well
Throw your hands up and you walk away,
When times get hard you always walk away
You get mad that's when your leaving
Why's it so damn hard for you to talk to me
When its so easy for you to walk away
So here I am driving down the street
Looking for a sign
When will I meet, the man of my dreams
When will he come to me, when will he come to me
Coz I'm sick of trying,
I'm going home back to Philly to where I came from
And you can stay hear and spend your hole life running
But baby I'm gonna move on
CHORUS
You didn't wanna work it out, no
You wouldn't take it easy, well
Threw your hands up and you walk away,
When times get hard you always walk away
I'm sorry baby but I'm leaving
It was just to hard for you to talk to me
And now it's my turn I'm gonna do the same
So there I go leaving you alone
What will you do now all your fears came true
You had my heart you had my soul you had it all didn't you
Coz I'm sick of trying,
I'm going home back to Philly to where I came from
And you can stay hear and spend your hole life running
But baby I'm gonna move on
CHORUS
You didn't wanna work it out, no
You wouldn't take it easy, well
Threw your hands up and you walk away,
When times get hard you always walk away
I'm sorry baby but I'm leaving
It was just to hard for you to talk to me
And now its my turn I'm gonna do the same
song performed by by Pink
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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About My Very Tortured Friend, Peter
he lives in a house with a swimming pool
and says the job is
killing him.
he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem to
get rid of
him. his novels keep coming
back. “what do you expect me to do?” he screams
“go to New York and pump the hands of the
publishers?”
“no,” I tell him, “but quit your job, go into a
small room and do the
thing.”
“but I need ASSURANCE, I need something to
go by, some word, some sign!”
“some men did not think that way:
Van Gogh, Wagner—”
“oh hell, Van Gogh had a brother who gave him
paints whenever he
needed them!”
“look,” he said, “I’m over at this broad’s house today and
this guy walks in. a salesman. you know
how they talk. drove up in this new
car. talked about his vacation. said he went to
Frisco—saw Fidelio up there but forgot who
wrote it. now this guy is 54 years
old. so I told him: ‘Fidelio is Beethoven’s only
opera.’ and then I told
him: ‘you’re a jerk!’ ‘whatcha mean?’ he
asked. ‘I mean, you’re a jerk, you’re 54 years old and
you don’t know anything!’”
“what happened
then?”
“I walked out.”
“you mean you left him there with
her?”
“yes.”
“I can’t quit my job,” he said. “I always have trouble getting a
job. I walk in, they look at me, listen to me talk and
they think right away, ah ha! he’s too intelligent for
this job, he won’t stay
so there’s really no sense in hiring
him.
now, YOU walk into a place and you don’t have any trouble:
you look like an old wino, you look like a guy who needs a
job and they look at you and they think:
ah ha!: now here’s a guy who really needs work! if we hire
him he’ll stay a long time and work
HARD!”
“do any of those people,” he asks “know you are a
writer, that you write poetry?”
“no.”
“you never talk about
it. not even to
me! if I hadn’t seen you in that magazine I’d
have never known.”
“that’s right.”
“still, I’d like to tell these people that you are a
writer.”
“I’d still like to
tell them.”
“why?”
“well, they talk about you. they think you are just a
horseplayer and a drunk.”
“I am both of those.”
“well, they talk about you. you have odd ways. you travel alone.
I’m the only friend you
have.”
“yes.”
“they talk you down. I’d like to defend you. I’d like to tell
them you write
poetry.”
“leave it alone. I work here like they
do. we’re all the same.”
“well, I’d like to do it for myself then. I want them to know why
I travel with
you. I speak 7 languages, I know my music—”
“forget it.”
“all right, I’ll respect your
wishes. but there’s something else—”
“what?”
“I’ve been thinking about getting a
piano. but then I’ve been thinking about getting a
violin too but I can’t make up my
mind!”
“buy a piano.”
“you think
so?”
“yes.”
he walks away
thinking about
it.
I was thinking about it
too: I figure he can always come over with his
violin and more
sad music.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Has Taken Them Away
I am a man who lives in yesterdays,
in a world of worn out photographs
with faces I want to remember
but more often that I can’t.
I want to go back and relive
some of the best moments in my life.
Talk again to my school friends
who somehow shaped my life.
I want to rebuild what I left behind,
try to find so many things
that were lost in an earlier time.
I want to go back to my yesterdays,
but time has taken them away.
28 October 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I sit and look at photographs
I sit and look at photographs
And say I love you so
A thousand miles between our laughs
Yet they travel to and fro
-
I see you now, you’re really close
Hand in hand we walk.
Through the pleasant countryside,
Neither seems to talk.
A smile breaks through, laughs ensue
The mirth comes from our heart
It is very plain we two
Should never be apart.
So take my love to keep you warm,
Safe in the days ahead
And I’ll keep yours to ward off harm
And I’ll cherish the things you’ve said.
While I sit and look at photographs
And say I love you so.
A thousand miles between our laughs
Still they travel to and fro
poem by Terry Brewer
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Whenever You Breathe Out, I Breathe In (Positive Negative)
Hey, haven't seen you around in a while [x4]
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
I didn't feel angry or depressed
I didn't feel anything at all
I didn't want to go to bed
And I didn't want to stay up late
When youre living your life, well, that's the price you pay
Whenever I breath out, you're breathing it in
Whenever I speak out, you're speaking out
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whenever I Breathe Out
Hey, haven't seen you around in a while [x4]
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
I didn't feel angry or depressed
I didn't feel anything at all
I didn't want to go to bed
And I didn't want to stay up late
When youre living your life, well, that's the price you pay
Whenever I breath out, you're breathing it in
Whenever I speak out, you're speaking out
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whenever You Breathe Out, I Brea
Hey, haven't seen you around in a while [x4]
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
I didn't feel angry or depressed
I didn't feel anything at all
I didn't want to go to bed
And I didn't want to stay up late
When youre living your life, well, that's the price you pay
Whenever I breath out, you're breathing it in
Whenever I speak out, you're speaking out
I didn't go to work for a month
I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight
I haven't hung out with anyone
'Cause if I did, I'd have nothing to say
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Have Nothing To 'Anyone' To Prove
SOMETIMES...
Not often,
I am amused to meet...
Someone from my childhood,
Who attempts to re-invent...
The events I lived through,
From 'their' memory!
And how good it was,
In those days long gone...
When I was made to do chores,
As other kids played...
And I was home taking out garbage,
Washing dishes...
And mopping and sweeping floors.
As I look back at those days today,
I can say I am no longer bitter...
By how I was raised.
Or the fact that I had been called names.
But a fear I did not express.
Although I walked with my head down,
Feeling insecure and shamed.
'You're gonna fix this God? '
I would 'always' ask!
Today?
I live not too far from that same neighborhood.
And God has made so many things 'right' in my life.
That bitterness that use to sit within me?
Has been replaced by so much joy these days.
~Gee...
Is this 'me' feeling all this happiness? ~
I am tempted to evaluate others.
But I can 'feel' my mother daring me to do it.
And hearing her voice whisper in my ear to say...
'Larry, you have nothing to 'anyone' to prove.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sticky Summer Weather
This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the take me to tomorrow album, and has also been released on the country roads collection album.
Sticky summer weather always pains me
Its like living beneath a blanket I cant breathe
The days are like an oven the nights forever
Nothing to do not much else to see
Then again, I cant stand the thought of winter
Aint got a fire theres nobody to keep me warm
The night is grey and my coffee tastes so bitter
My memoreis go raging back to storm
Seems like twenty years ago in the springtime
The rain was sweet the wind was cool and clean
I had a girl she was a lady I could talk to
Now its almost like shes never been
Ive been a long time looking for rainbows
Trying to find a way to believe tomorrow
There was a time I think when I remember dreaming
There was a reason I cant find it now
As I recall it almost made my life worth living
It must be hiding like the sun behind a cloud
Ive been a long time looking for rainbows
Trying to find a way to believe tomorrow
Sticky summer weather always pains me
Its like living beneath a blanket I cant breathe
The days are like an oven the nights forever
Nothing to do not much else to see
Like spending a long time looking for rainbows
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Talk
Dont talk back to me, dont talk back to me
Dont talk back to me, dont talk
Going round in circles, hearing too many points of view
Just words to tire me out, small talk I could do without
I would be amazed if you returned to see things my way
Now that youve been disrespectful to my sense of pride
Isnt it a shame that you were lying when you said to me (small talk)
I was the only one, you and I were meant to be
I expect youll never really feel the way that I do
All of this is with regret, Im sure you will agree
Say something to me, anything at all
I want you to mean what you say
Ive seen all I want to see, and you mean the world to me
Ive lived for each moment to be with you, with you, with you
Small talk, small talk, small talk, small talk
You say I dont talk enough, that applies to both of us
Dont try to sound me out, something I could do without
So much goes on inside your head, I often wonder
Have you heard enough to know, theres nothing left to say
Say something to me, anything at all
I want you to mean what you say
Ive seen all I want to see, and you mean the world to me
Ive lived for each moment to be with you, with you, with you
Small talk
Small talk
Ooh small talk
Thats all I ever hear
Small talk
Ill be alright
It may take sometime
But Ill be alright (dont talk back to me)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (dont want to be alone, nothing worth to carry on)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (try hard to understand, you wont seem to lend a hand)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (without youll fail to see, you never spare a thought for me)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (so many things you said, going round in circles)
Ill be alright (dont talk back to me) (Ill rise above it all, enough to see another day)
Ill be alright
Ill be alright
Dont talk back to me...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waking
WAKING
There are so many dreams no one ever realizes
We wake and try to understand where we are
What we have done in all the years seems folly
Nothing can justify this morning or the day to come
We have forgotten who we are and where we have been
The prayer that helps us and connects us back to God
Revives
We begin to live or try to begin to live
Our names are not known and our work uncelebrated
Our songs are not sung and our labors not blessed
We look out and up at the sky and feel light
We do not know how or why or in what way
But we understand that God has given mornings to begin again
We will take the first step and word and taste and sound
And all we feel and be will begin to revive
We will connect ourselves again with where we are
We will begin to work
And as the day slowly comes back to us we will come back to ourselves
Every day is a new beginning and a world G-d will make
We too are that world and that beginning
In all the many days of blessings and the years of this life
God has enabled us to begin again
This time now too is now different
And these words say we are here now for this morning
So long as this morning is in us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Alternate World
Do you believe in alternate worlds,
in other dimensions?
I do
I'm there
I am a ghost
walking around unseen
watching others,
not a part of their world,
they, not a part of mine
I was in their world once.
I think I remember.
Soccer games
going to work
shopping
not thinking about tomorrow.
All surreal now
so surreal.
Transported to a world
of people dressed in white
of machines
and a million needles piercing me
the needles seem to never stop.
Days filled with medicine
and more medicine
Do I take this one now?
God, I forget what I took.
Transported to a world of days without sleep
and days without waking.
A world of pain
A world where you let them
fill you with poisons
then ask them to do it again.
Everything that mattered before,
doesn't.
God, how I long to go to the mall
carefree
like these people walking around me,
to worry about next summer's vacation
as though next summer is assured.
I long to be free
I long to be normal
But there is nothing normal
in the world of cancer.
poem by Shane Linville
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worth the Pain
We were best friends from the start
It's been ten or eleven years.
Who would of ever thought
I'd cry so many tears?
The laughter through High School
Always kept me going.
The love between the two of us
Never stopped growing.
Graduation came
And we went our separate ways.
Two years later, we met again...
Oh my, what a day!
I fell for him so hard
That I couldn't find myself.
Lost in so many emotions
I didn't know what I felt.
It was great for a while
Then I started to back away.
I took him for granted
Our relationship began to decay.
After trials of tears and fighting
He decided it would be best,
If we went our separate ways
And put our love to the test.
We tried again to work things out
But it simply didn't work.
And now my pain and selfishness
Continues to stay and lurk.
What if I'd been more open
And cared a little more?
Would he still love me enough
To not walk out the door?
My regret is that I let
Our friendship slip away.
But if I had the chance again,
I'd let him love me anyway.
For if in time we're friends again,
The pain will slowly go.
And the road we took to get us there,
We will surely know...
That it was worth to be loved
And needed at the time,
Because some people go through life
And love they never find.
poem by Trish Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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7. Childhood
It was hard when I tried to think back
To remember the bad and the good
Reliving old memories I thought I’d forgot
Way back in my early childhood
My brain started sorting out data
So much how did one childhood cope?
I lived for today’s not tomorrow’s
All new days were full of fresh hope
My winters had snow covered pathways
So deep my poor frost bitten toes
With cotton wool coatings on rooftops
Where long slender icicles froze
In springtime’s the weather was milder
Like frolicking lambs we would play
Hide and seek, football or cricket
Would keep us amused through the day
By summer the sun stayed much longer
And gave off much more of its heat
Sandcastles, seaside and hotdogs
Where often a late weekend treat
Each autumn saw changes in colour
Leaves turned brown with much less green
Days got much darker by teatime
So outside no children were seen
Once again back round to winter
The rough weather fading my tan
My childhood became one year older
With seasons back where they’d began
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War In Secret
I don’t know much about war,
at least first hand I don’t.
But in my neighborhood,
when I was a child,
there was an old man
who had been in world War I.
He would ride his bicycle daily
up and down the streets,
pumping only the left pedal.
He didn’t remember about the war,
and all he got from it was
an artificial right leg.
I don’t know much about war but,
my uncle flew bombers
during World War II.
In an old album there is a picture
of him standing by a plane which
is painted with a big white star.
My grandparents were so proud but,
he never wants to talk about the war,
he only wants to remember
and talk about the planes.
I don’t know much about war,
but I know of two magnificent towers,
ones I’ve seen only in pictures.
Once they stood in New York City.
Proudly they stood,
jutting twenty-five years into the sky,
slicing the clouds.
Now they are gone,
taking with them approximately
two thousand seven hundred fifty lives.
This is what I know about war,
war in secret, plotted and
executed with ease,
with no remorse.
And this, I will always remember.
poem by Betty Bleen
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An Irish Mile
In my dream I walk in the times gone by
On the western edge of a heartbreak shore
Where sleep’s dark fears are howling ‘round
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
Near the edge of a cliff there’s an angry
crowd with hungry faces crowding around
’fear in their eyes when they hear the drum
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
The troops come on with bayonets fixed
Pushing the people to the mountain’s lip
A cry goes out as the first goes down
in the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
The troops move off in single file.
The Empire grows by an Irish mile.
A voice cries out from the rocks below in
the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
In my dream I walk in the times gone by
As close to the edge as my fears allow
in the air there's a prayer for pity and revenge
In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world
poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remembering Misty
Sometimes it felt like you were my only friend,
And I was so upset when it all came to an end.
When I heard the news that you had died,
I'll readily admit the fact that I cried.
Racing towards me, you didn't seem to have a second to spare.
It was almost like your life depended on you getting there.
Upon arrival at my feet, you'd promptly turn away from me,
So as I could stroke the fur on your back very gently.
You trusted me, but if someone walked by,
Fear would set in and you'd run and hide.
From the safety of your garden, you would peer,
Then I'd coax you back out again when the coast was clear.
When you came running, my heart lifted and I felt glad
And when I was with you, I never felt sad.
When I was with you, the world seemed to disappear.
I was lost in my own little world, when you were near.
I didn't care if my neighbours thought I was mad,
As you cheered me up when I was feeling sad.
I remember once, as I was about to walk away,
You put your paw on my foot, gazing up at me, as if to say 'Please stay! '
You had the most gorgeous, long grey fur,
And, when contented, the happiest purr.
With your golden eyes, you'd gaze up at me
And sometimes place a paw upon my knee.
You weren't my cat, but of you I was very fond.
Over the years, we formed a very close bond.
I always smiled when I was with you,
And, in a funny way, I could feel that you were smiling to!
A few times, when you shot towards me in the dark at night,
I almost jumped out of my skin, as you gave me quite a fright!
If, at work, I'd had a particularly bad day,
Time spent with you would take the stress away.
Sometimes I passed your gate and just didn't see you there -
Lost in my own little world of worry and care,
But you always spotted me and would have something to say:
Quick as lightning, you'd rush past me, turn, and then stand in my way!
When I think of you, a smile creeps across my face.
I've made other feline friends, but you they can't replace.
We were friends a long time - ten years,
So I guess it's understandable that I shed some tears.
It's over four years now, since you went away,
But I still miss you every single day.
Now that I've captured your essence in this rhyme,
Your memory will live on for the rest of time.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make It All OK
You threw away the ballast and you rowed your boat ashore
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
You made your ultimatum too big to ignore
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
So you worked out your excuses,
turned away and shut the door.
The world's too vast for us now,
and you wanted to explore
It's a long, long long road
And I don't know which way to go
If you offered me your hand again I'd have to walk away.
When I saw you at the street fair, you called out my name
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
You said we could start over, try and make it all okay.
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
So our past has been rewritten
and you threw away the pen.
You'd said that I was useless,
but now you'll take me in again
Well Jesus loves me fine.
And your words fall flat this time.
Was it my imagination, or did I hear you say,
"We don't have a prayer between us."
Didn't you believe that I have finally turned away?
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
Anything to hold onto to help me through my day.
Didn't you, now? Didn't you?
Jesus loves me fine.
But his words fall flat this time.
It's a long, long long road
And I don't know which way to go
If you offered me your world, did you think I'd really stay?
If you offered me the heavens, I would have to turn away.
Was it my imagination, or did I hear you say,
"We don't have a prayer between us."
Didn't you, now? Didn't you, now?
Didn't you?
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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