Past must last
Past must last
That too very fast
It may unnecessarily cast
Raise many questions and doubts
It may lead to formation of a thick cloud
That may emerge and speak very loud
Mystery must shroud
May hurt several time not to feel proud
Past may be glorious
But no need to remember it continuous
Reasons can be cited as various
The result is known and obvious
Past can be made as jumping ground
For more happiness to be found
Errors can taken care of and new foundation is laid
"Past makes us perfect" as it is well said
Past is to be kept in mind
For new horizons to find
A new concept to be tried
But truth should never be denied
If past was not that bright
Its burial may be considered to make it right
There is no place for dead memories
As it adds to tension and worries
I, for one, may go for bright future
Making every aspect very much sure
Result can be anything either in swing or favor
But I shall not compromise it with honor
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Library
That is why it is called library
Where stand all books buried
Built with huge grant amount to carry
Impressions of dead poets for all that past sorry
New generation wants fast result
Press the Google button and everything is built
Right from old warriors to new breed if politicians
History is on hand and can be seen as produced by the magician
Time is not far off when "library" word may become extinct
Boards may remain with sign but not more called distinct
All work and manuscripts may be stand converted
Into "e" governance and whole of the past may be subverted
It is our glorious past and heritage
We have maintained it as history on page
Many old scripture still find their place
They are the sacred heritage and must be preserved in any case
"Go and have reference from library" may become thing of past
The past may not only remain as past but soon deteriorate last
Few of the pages may speak about glorious death of civilization
Where as we need them as our only witness for old link and new relation
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Yesterdaze
Yesterdaze are gone, along with my youth
I'm older now, and longer, in the tooth
I have very few regrets from the past
You must look forward, there, the die isn't cast
The fog of the past is now hard to remember
Did that happen in October or in September
Yesterdaze can't be overcome, they're done
The choices were made, and it was fun
Much of the ‘70's is a fog in the past
Why change much, except the memories to last
It was my youth and I was a little crazy
That's what really makes it all so hazy
Too many drugs and lots of alcohol
Nobody wanted to change, anything at all
"Live for today", was the overriding theme
So many lost days, make me want to scream
Yesterdaze not tomorrows
Made a life, without many sorrows
Sure it could have been differently done
Maybe I spent too many days in the sun
There's no need to overthink the past
It is what it is, and couldn't last
We move on, with the lessons learned
At least in that daze, my mind wasn't burned
I love my future, and I love my past
Yesterdaze are gone, the future isn't cast
It was a challenge to just live through them
With the Lord's help, Yesterdaze were a gem
poem by J.B. LeBuert
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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A glorious past
Past is always glorious
by that only you have become known or famous
that must remain on or continuous
the reason may be many or various
you can't go by the past
though it might have ended fast
the present may still be eluded
if past is not at all included
you love the present and think of future
the thing which is not there for sure
Think of the past with little from present
you won't feel future too absent
don't read much about anything
you will have to prove for everything
you can't trust the present trend
you may plan accordingly with some mends
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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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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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Punctuality
Man Naturally loves delay,
And to procrastinate;
Business put off from day to day
Is always done to late.
Let ever hour be in its place
Firm fixed, nor loosely shift,
And well enjoy the vacant space,
As though a birthday gift.
And when the hour arrives, be there,
Where'er that "there" may be;
Uncleanly hands or ruffled hair
Let no one ever see.
If dinner at "half-past" be placed,
At "half-past" then be dressed.
If at a "quarter-past" make haste
To be down with the rest
Better to be before you time,
Than e're to be behind;
To open the door while strikes the chime,
That shows a punctual mind.
Moral:
Let punctuality and care
Seize every flitting hour,
So shalt thou cull a floweret fair,
E'en from a fading flower
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Time
Time is a nonspacial continuum
In which events occur in obvious
Irreversible sequencing union:
Past, present and future, continuous.
What does all this mean to us in our lives?
Well, we have many memories don’t we?
Shared with our loved ones and our relatives.
Past experiences that once were new
Are now old, recyclable memories.
Those timely abstract musings cling to
Everyone: today's contemporaries.
The entire past is what we are anew.
The present is shaped by this time “before”
And hinged on what the future holds in store.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Grown-Up Talk
Half-Past-Six and I were talking
In a very grown-up way;
We had got so tired with running
That we did not want to play.
"How do babies come, I wonder,"
He said, looking at the sky,
"Does God mix the things together
An' just make it-like a pie?"
I was really not quite certain,
But it sounded very nice;
It was all that we could think of,
Besides a book said "sugar and spice."
Half-Past-Six said--He's so clever--
Cleverer than me, I mean...
"I suppose God makes the black ones
When the saucepan isn't clean."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Time Long Past
Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past.
There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last--
That Time long past.
There is regret, almost remorse,
For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's belovèd corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
From Time long past.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Cupid is not stupid for M lady Helen unknown
Cupid is not stupid
Love can strike unexpectedly.
When you think you are past romance,
then you find quite suddenly.
Fate’s giving you another chance.
It is not something that you sought,
you have been betrayed in the past
You are not past it as you thought
all of your doubts are overcast.
You are quite sure this time its right,
although you got it wrong before
You future now looks rather bright.
You won’t be lonely any more.
You know now that dreams do come true.
He has just told you he loves you.
11-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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History may be past
History may be past
Embedded in memory and may not last
It is glorious past with memorable events
Preserved with honor as unforgettable counts
As the things can be clearly seen in mirror
History will site you mistakes and errors
It may not repeat in near future or for times to come
We take pride for being a part and welcome
How many bloody wars have been fought?
Was peace not explored or sought?
Why so much bitterness about past?
Why still not coming to terms very fast?
How can I forget that number of times country was invaded?
How can that easily it be wiped out that in problem we were landed?
The poverty, helplessness and backwardness come before like picture?
Making me restless with burning rage at heart for future
I am for sure and everybody will share
You can not equate past with future
The present is in between to balance
It must be thought over and given chance
We can’t carry bitterness all along
History may not pardon us for pursuing wrong
If we had rich tradition in forgiving the evil and past
We must surely feel elated with very good start
We have witnessed hostility running in for decades
It has no reasons to be continued for indefinite days
Each passing day is proving costly and very deadly
We must learn lesson from it and end it immediately
It is invaluable treasure to have it as glorious history
New generation can take pride in not feel sorry
It is freedom and free environment that we intended to give
For our lapses they may surely understand forgive
History can be considered as past milestones
The present can not ignore it and consider as bye gone
We have come to stay here as inseparable part
Even thought it may be unworthy or glorious past
What does this indicate in particular?
Do we want to create the situation like similar?
It is thing of past and must be buried sincerely
We have to pick positive threads and weave it neatly
It will be great tribute to our elderly statesman
They left behind for us a rich and healthy tradition
It is for us to judge the past and shape the destiny
Time may force us to explain our conduct to many
It is our duty to preserve
Assess the situation and observe
Freedom and past must be close to our mind
Yet another similar situation always too find
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Past, Now and Future
the past is what makes me, me
the now is what i choose to be
the future is what i cant see
if i live in the past
the now wont last
the future comes fast
the past was bad
the now is sad
the future has to be glad
the past is over and gone
the now is here, so i go on
the future is soon to come
poem by Sandy Nobody
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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
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An excellence
Thy excellence
Thy glory story
Thy euphony cacophony
Psalm chant Universal
Booze blotto me in
Rhapsodic richness. It is nice to live I glorious past too and mind that history never repeats. Pick the threads from past weave it in present and present it for beautiful tomorrow...
On glorious past
Doubts never cast
Life is so precious and fast
Sky and horizons are also so vast
Only we are mortals and may not last
Live gracefully in presence
Understand its utility and essence
Not to forget past easily and hence
Just peep through and minutely glance
Bring drastic change in stance
Answer honestly to the call
Prevent any further fall
House all epics in one hall
Break the prevailing hatred wall
Peace and tranquility shall
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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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Time My Past My Future! ! !
Time My Past My Future
The time is racing my past behind me
NO!
My past in front,
My future behind,
I wasn't thinking of my future,
I was back in my past.
But now this is my story! ! ! !
A mother who did not love me,
A sister a brother trying to comfort me,
I felt all alone
Now inhale
and
Exhale.
My future
A mother, A brother, once upon a time a father,
But no more
I stride for my future,
Not for my past
I tell you children
NEVER Look Back! ! !
But i do wondering......
I f my past was different would my future be better?
Would it?
Never mind that,
The time is racing to my future
I live for today and NOT tomarrow.
So I Never Look Back.
poem by Chauntae Ridley
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Present
Bury the Past
Forget the Future
Think about the Present
Be alert and cautious in the present
Do not regret about the past
Or worry about the future
Past is gone
Future is unknown
Present is what you have today
So utilise it to the fullest extent
Its your life's biggest asset
That will fetch you great dividends
Realize that this is a gift given to you by God
That's why it is called as "PRESENT"
poem by Kavita Iyer
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Last night I had a dream
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a future
a future that i had buried
deep within
A dream that made me wonder
how deep is that burial place
within me
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a past
a past that my memory
refuses to name.
Dug up by another name from
that very past
Last night i had a dream
a dream about the present
a present that i choose to
live in oblivion off.
a present with hurt, betrayal
pain and sadness
A present that however hard
i run away from shackles
me to my past and my future
chains, which i am unable to
break free from
which tie me down and make me who and what i am
Last night i had a dream
do i wish to wake up and
face reality.
are not the dream and the reality
one and the same.
Last night i had a dream
a dream or was i awake
finally.
poem by Jasveen Ahluwalia
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Star of My Heart
Star of my heart, I follow from afar.
Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are,
Where Time is not, and only dreamers are.
Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead
And a foolish Saxon seeks the manger-bed.
O lead me to Jehovah's child
Across this dreamland lone and wild,
Then will I speak this prayer unsaid,
And kiss his little haloed head —
"My star and I, we love thee, little child."
Except the Christ be born again to-night
In dreams of all men, saints and sons of shame,
The world will never see his kingdom bright.
Stars of all hearts, lead onward thro' the night
Past death-black deserts, doubts without a name,
Past hills of pain and mountains of new sin
To that far sky where mystic births begin,
Where dreaming ears the angel-song shall win.
Our Christmas shall be rare at dawning there,
And each shall find his brother fair,
Like a little child within:
All hearts of the earth shall find new birth
And wake, no more to sin.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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