It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.
quote by P.D. James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfect Part 2
I don’t need perfect cloth
I don’t need perfect hair
What I need is a confidence
I don’t need perfect score
I don’t need perfect job
What I need is a support
I don’t need perfect word
I don’t need perfect dream
What I need is a chance
I don’t need perfect agreement
I don’t need perfect control
What I need is a solution
I don’t need perfect holiday
I don’t need perfect memories
What I need is a peace of mind
I don’t need perfect home
I don’t need perfect family
What I need is a comfort
I don’t need perfect love
I don’t need perfect life
What I need is an understanding
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Yesterday
Days were gone that only my sanity can gather
The truth and lies that molded the person I am
Not perfect but I am what I am
Yes! Past can’t be undone but only to be looked at
By a memory as fresh as morning comes each day
For every tick of clock’s hand it becomes my past
All [I said and did] are now fractions of my novelty
Days were gone that only my good mind can choose
The albums of my life, torn pages are fallen leaves
Muddled on the ground, buried only to be learned
That these lessons are my guidelines for tomorrow
Yesterday is my mirror and you will not be my God
To watch my shadow that each detail I am judged
Neither I care nor will I listen just to dwell upon it
When I know I am wrong and you can’t forgive me
But when all smiles cascade from bank of memory
And laughter exudes to remind you the best of me
I’ll let you take my place where I learnt to love you
Or where I hated you for not knowing how to forgive
Yes! Days were gone but only my sanity can gather
The truth and lies that molded the person I am
Not perfect but I am what I am
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Golden Days
There are days in our life
we often refer to as our golden days.
Days that will live forever in our memory,
days when our life felt so comfortable
and we had that warm feeling inside.
Times we wished could last forever
and everyday would be like them.
Sadly, all too soon they are placed into our memory.
Sometimes we get the chance to relive them
for a brief spell now and then
whenever we stop and reminisce
with an old friend.
Then for the briefest of moments,
we are transported back then,
the time of our golden days again.
2 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Everything depends on whether we have for opponents those French tricksters or those daring rascals, the English. I prefer the English. Frequently their daring can only be described as stupidity. In their eyes it may be pluck and daring.
quote by Manfred von Richthofen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Days
- Album: Reality
- Lyrics and music by David Bowie
Hold me tight
Keep me cool
Going mad
Don't know what to do
Do I need a friend?
Well I need one now
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All I've done
I've done for me
All you gave
You gave for free
I gave nothing in return
And theres little left of me
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
With redeyed pain I'm knocking on your door again
My crazy brain in tangles pleading for your gentle voice
Those storms keep pounding through my faded heart
I'll play your sooth my sorry soul
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Perfect Little Girl...
Your perfect little girl dropped a grade on her report card.
Your perfect little girl yelled at you last night.
Your perfect little girl painted her nails black.
Your perfect little girl lied to you all her life.
Your perfect little girl cries herself to sleep.
Your perfect little girl slits her wrists till she bleeds.
Your perfect little girl hates you.
Your perfect little girl hates herself.
Your perfect little girl has given up on life.
Your perfect little girl had a tantrum today.
Your perfect little girl has her head in the toilet after dinner.
Your perfect little girl wants to run away.
Your perfect little girl hasn't let you dry her tears.
Your perfect little girl disobeyed you.
Your perfect little girl hates the world.
Your perfect little girl is hated by the world.
Your perfect little girl is very unhappy.
Your perfect little girl tried to commit suicide.
Your perfect little girl became a disgrace.
Your perfect little girl keeps alot of secrets.
Your perfect little girl deals with everything on her own
Your perfect little girl had to grow up too fast.
Your perfect little girl is on the edge of breakdown.
Your perfect little girl just isn't so perfect anymore.
poem by Gabriela Valoy
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Summer Days of Yesteryear
We often live surveying the past
as a summer season comes around,
and selecting the days of living freely
in our memory will be found.
We scrutinize the events of other Summers
experiencing great pleasure and delight
that once we knew when we were just
youngsters when life seemed to be all right.
Through the fading days of yesteryear
we filled our life with many dreams.
From childhood days to adulthood days
it was just a natural step it seems.
We miss the thrills that once was ours
the days we felt were always free.
We live it over each Summer time
and always remains a pleasant memory.
Too swiftly is the flight of time,
Though plentiful be the exuberant ways
that lead us down memory lane
to the scenes of other Summer days.
Though another Summer season shall end,
One wish for all of you we hold
May Summer always bring an abundance
of joy and memories a hundred fold.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Read 'em And Weep
Midnight, not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory, she is smiling alone
In the lamplight, the withered leaves, collected my fee
And the wind begins to moan
Memory, all alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days, it was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again
Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life, and I mustn't give in
When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory, too
And a new day will begin
Burnt out ends of smoky days, the stale cold smell of morning
The street lamp dies, another night is over, another day is dawning
Touch me, it's so easy to leave me, all alone with the memory of my day in the sun
If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is
Look a new day, has begun
Memory, all alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days, it was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tip of My Memory
On the tip of my memory
of a time so distant
sitting at kitchen table
watching my mother.
She was cooking one of her
fine means, as she always did,
remembering how young
she was.
Miss those days of old
when we would just talk
of her telling me of her youth,
now I'm older than she was then.
All of this just on tip of
my memory, so long ago
as days go by, memory fading
away to days so distant.
(4-21-07)
Good Old Days
Oh some times I think back to when I was younger
Life was so much simpler then
Dad would be up at dawn
Hed be watering the lawn
Or maybe going fishing again
Oh and mom would be fixing up something in the kitchen
Fresh biscuits or hot apple pie
And Id spend all day long in the basement
Torturing rats with a hack-saw
And pulling the wings off of flies
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
I can still remember good old mr. fender
Who ran the corner grocery store
Oh, hed strolled down the aisle with a big friendly smile
And hed say howdy when you walked in the door
Always treated me nice, gave me kindly advice
I dont know why I set fire to his place
Oh Ill never forget the day I bashed in his head
Well you shouldve seen the look on his face
Let me tell ya now
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
Do you remember sweet michelle
She was my high school romance
She was fun to talk to and nice to smell
So I took her to the homecoming dance
Then I tied her to a chair and I shaved off all her hair
And I left her in the desert all alone
Well sometimes in my dreams
I can still hear the screams
Oh I wonder if she ever made it home
I tell ya
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
Let me tell ya buddy
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Sight Can Be More Autumnal
No sight can be more autumnal
than that of my garden
Tenanted by an autumnal person
weary of the world!
poem by Sugawara Takesue no Musume
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Days of Autumn
I await the chilly days of autumn.
I'm tired of summer's heat.
I anticipate the acorns popping.
I will crunch them with my feet.
I wonder at the colorful leaves
that silently fall to the ground.
I'm in love with the clear blue skies
around which my heart is wound.
Colorful mums have awakened in me
autumnal visions that will forever be
implanted in my memory.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I don't often write
I don't often write about the seasons
how the newly budding flowers melt my heart.
I seldom dwell on heat or summer madness,
of how long warm evenings mellow darker thoughts.
Autumnal leaves blow gently over parchment
just like the summer kisses we once shared
and so I dare not speak about the Autumn
for I know that I would cry and that I'm scared.
Winter is so cold and brings the darkness,
within it, misty days and frosty nights,
bringing thoughts of you, my precious lover
and dreams about your sunny face at night.
I don't often write about the seasons
and now I realise why I never do.
It's because with every season comes a memory
and that memory, most often, is of you.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Reflecting water
Entwine memory pictures
In autumnal woods
haiku by Peter S. Quinn
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Daughter, Forgive
Her days were
Whole
On Mexican tile and
Daddy’s slippers
Ahead a full life
Days without maps
Years without provenance
Years and debris
Memory is debris
Clutter and fantasy
In black and white
In crackled sepia
Never in life color
The tartar of bad memory
Calcifies and becomes plaque
Becomes part of the finished work
A life nonetheless
poem by Guillermo Veloso
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Frequently the wood are pink
6
Frequently the wood are pink—
Frequently are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.
Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see—
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be—
And the Earth— they tell me—
On its Axis turned!
Wonderful Rotation!
By but twelve performed!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Perfect Woman
She stands out elegantly tall
Staring you straight into your eyeball
She is a woman all girls want to be
She is the woman all girls want to see
With her display of motherly kindness
Exhibiting contemporary greatness
Her presence is a charm
Even her smile alone disarms
Her life paints only positive examples
Everyone frequently questions and samples
They all want to be like her
They all want to be a superstar
Her outstanding personality
Is more than just a female identity!
She is a woman all girls want to be
She is the woman all girls want to see
Some people say she is perfect
Others claim her to be an intellect
A role model she is to be correct
O! The lives of many she affects
She is quite plain and simple
Always out there for the people
She is one without flaws
Always abiding by the law
She is the perfect woman
All girls want to be
She is the perfect woman
All girls want to see
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Perfect Father
The Perfect Father
who accepts you
the perfect father
who protects you
The perfect father
what will you do?
but believe in him
and accept Him too
The perfect Father
who gave His life
The perfect Father
is found in Jesus Christ
The perfect Father
who knows your name
The perfect father
who will remain
The perfect Father
who lovingly guides
who wants to lead you
like a shepherd
and walk
by your side
The perfect Father
who listens and holds
The perfect Father
who gently consoles
The perfect Father
who changes you
by his Love and his kindness
and acceptance too
The perfect Father
who understands
This perfect Father
became a man
So that you could come
to personally know Him
and know there is a Father
who is out there my friend
There is a Father
who exist, your not dreaming
He's looking for you
while your searching for Him
He's found in Jesus Christ
Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life
no one comes to the father except through me'
(The Holy Bible) John 14: 6
poem by Debbie Bennett
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In The Making Of 'memory
dear friends,
how's your life?
it's been a while since I heard you laughed,
I, sometimes, dream of us so clearly,
in this making of 'memory'
our past days surely are beautiful,
the things keep our memory books so full.
the things we left unchanged are so many,
in this making of 'memory'
dear friends,
where have you been?
our day, our time,
do you still have that memory?
we live our lives now, differently.
we are, but for the making of another 'memory'
poem by Kite Remedy
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