Dementia (Death Poem)
A slow death, in eons of unremembered moments,
Like a dark star, she collapses into herself every day,
Fragments of her past memories intrude sometimes,
Incomprehensible now, like they are all in Russian.
This existence she hates more than life itself,
Flowing like an unending river, towards a sea,
Days of sleep, interrupted by family strangers,
Wearing her precious necklace and others’ clothes.
At times I am 'Who? ', until her son is introduced,
Which produces a 'Happy to see you' smile, and
Complaints that no one ever comes to visit now,
She is living in a nightmare of empty spaces.
Her now ungraspable tranquillity, her living hell,
Punished for imagined sin, she now doubts God,
But wants to go home to Him, to ask 'Why? ”.
She believed the childhood promise of heaven.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Mother (Love Poem)
A nurse’s care replaces impossible independence,
Too short heaven in a “delighted to see you” smile,
Lifetime of living remnants in a fragmented mind-
The woman becomes child of the man for ever,
Ten minute memories in oft repeated questions.
Picture book of life a set of disappearing moments,
Flashes of insight, questions prescient in perception,
Family names confused but still recognised for now.
Does love die or become caring for the living dead?
Will a God preserve me from this same living hell?
poem by Ian Beckett
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Pictures
Pictures
By: Adam M. Snow
Capturing life with precious moments to spare,
With smiles and love and timing so rare,
Living on forevermore within frames for all to see,
With a child's laughter as precious as can be.
Capturing memories of a soon forgotten childhood,
And family moments that never felt so good.
A truthful memoir in beautiful display,
Of a family picnic on a newborn summer day.
To savor the moments of joyous proportion,
Knowing it could all end in distortion.
Capturing the moments of an infant's first step,
Or a Christmas morn shining with pep.
An image of laughter and joyous jest,
A friendship jokes what they thought was best.
Memories taken of a sweet romance,
Of two young kids at their first school dance.
Capturing life with precious moments to spare,
With smiles and love and timing so rare.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Precious Moments
Looking across the timeless ebbies
that stretches as far as our lives have travelled
searching for precious moments
that were left behind
and now lie hidden in our memories.
Those times when life propelled itself
in spurts of our endeavours,
but always left some precious moments
behind out of our lives.
Like Icarus, we flew too high
for our own self-importance
leaving behind a yearning
for something we had,
but foolishly left so far behind.
Now to relive them
we search the four corners
and hidden crevices of our memory
where broken loves fell.
We want again to dream
of those days of our splendour
and our mistakes in love
that has left a forever yearning
for the things we will never have.
The precious moments that lay scattered
somewhere in the hidden corners
of our distant memories
near the seas of tranquillity.
20 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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Assets
O flowing river feed the well
Before you leave and say: “farewell”
You've gone away, the well is dry
I often ask and wonder why
It’s just a hole, an empty shell
O flowing river feed the well
You said that you would never end
And I believed you were a friend
I love that well, there is no doubt
It’s since dried up and left a drought
O flowing river feed the well
And keep me safe within your spell
The river’s gone, the well dried up
It left me with an empty cup
I'm lost in this financial hell
O flowing river feed the well
poem by Amera Andersen
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A Lady
I am living in somebody's house,
I am living with somebody's wife,
Through the deep i look and pray;
Like the guilty and the guiltiness upon Egypt's land.
I am living in somebody's house,
I am living with somebody's wife,
Through the dark i do pray;
Like the blind old man with his stick.
This tale is old,
This only star is lonely,
But the summer is green;
So let my memory still be thy pride and,
Let the river nobly foams and flows;
Like the white winter.
To nature and to me so dear,
Of my name in a story like this;
Like the wolf on the fold.
Those days are gne but, beauty still lies here;
Of all the pleasant places of festivity like,
a river ebbing very slow from the red gash;
I am living with somebody's wife.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Living Bad Dreams
I'm hypnotised
and helpless
Beneath the pale
full moon
My body is your sacrifice
You spirit's coming soon
I stare up at a
squalid night
It's been so cold
and smooth
Turns tender kisses
into bites
As you begin to move
You look so weak
and fragile
You seem to drip
and sway
But you swept me up into
your arms
And carried me away
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
You led me to temptation
Delivered me to pain
I walked upon you
hallowed ground
My soul is yours to gain
Your passion drains
my energy
Fear starts running deep
I'm falling in
slow motion
Into eternal sleep
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
[Lead Break]
Your passion drains
my energy
Fear starts running deep
I'm falling in
slow motion
Into eternal sleep
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
I'm living bad dreams
I can't run from you
I'm living bad dreams
This nightmare's
coming true
I'm living bad dreams
ohh ohh
I don't want bad dreams
Living bad dreams
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living On Memories Of You
My days are as dark as my nights
And I see no sunshine in sight
Your memory keeps blocking my view
And I'm living on memories of you
Can't eat when I'm hungry
Can't sleep when I'm tired
And all of these tears
Can't put out this fire
Your memory just won't turn me loose
And I'm living on memories of you
There's just no forgetting about you
How long can I survive without you
I just can't believe that we're through
And I'm living on memories of you
Can't eat when I'm hungry
I can't sleep when I'm tired
And all of my tears
Can't drown out this fire
Oh, your memory just won't turn me loose
And I'm living on memories of you
Yes, I'm living on memories of you
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Happy Family
playing the role of the happy family,
acting carefully like a perfect family,
putting a lie,
in everyone's eye,
making promises that can't be broken,
putting smiles that can't be taken,
feeling bad and not happy,
but being good at acting happy.
playing the role of the happy family,
father, mother, sister and brother,
but none of them bothers,
everyone is all alone.
talking in a different phone,
talking with a different language,
eating at the same table everyday,
acting happy by every way,
playing the role of the happy family
but there is always the quite,
for every single day and night.
wearing a faked smile,
letting between each one of them, a mile
watching together the television,
but each one is seeing it from his vision,
trying to love and care,
but they can't even share,
each one is in adifferent place.
wearing a big mask on his or her face
a mask of a big smile like a clown,
as all of them are living in a different town,
but still playing the role of the happy family,
still acting like a happy family
still wanting to make us believe that they are a family.
poem by Sarah Abu Zeid
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We Might As Well Be Strangers
I don't know your face no more
Or feel your touch that I adore
I don't know your face no more
It's just a place I'm looking for
We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in a different world
We might as well, we might as well, we might as well
I don't know your thoughts these days
We're strangers in an empty space
I don't understand your heart
It's easier to be apart
We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in another time
We might as well, we might as well, we might as well
Be strangers
Be strangers
For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know
song performed by by Keane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arbeit Macht Frei
Dark days are all I have
They took my will, soul, and life
I sleep only to awake in a nightmare
Trapped behind black gates
Reminding work will set me free
Broke my back, but I have to work
It's not my choice for I am a slave
I pray for death, hoping heaven awaits
I'm alive but in a man made hell
Maybe work will set me free?
I'm cursing God
He has forsaken us
If we're his children, then why let us suffer?
I hold so much rage and hate within
But I'm just tired of my life
Can my work be done?
I smell the infernos of hell
Maybe they'll take me to my family?
My freedom is finally in sight
The deep sleep is near
It is true; work brings freedom thorugh the chimney
poem by J.D. Decker
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Excitement
To live your life in monotonous ways
turns you into an empty shell.
You must encounter excitement
or you create a living hell.
The emptiness can take right over
and change who you are,
an individual that's vacant inside
that will never reach for a star.
And the reaching is the important thing
for it keeps you glowing.
Others will see it in your eyes.
and soon you will be growing
into another version of yourself,
not that empty shell.
Become excited with the act of living
and uncreate that living hell.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Memories Of The Roeside
Scenes of a childhood,
Long years ago,
Surface in memory as vivid as snow:
The Mullagh, the Dogleap,
The Wet Wood and the Dry…
Memories of the Roeside
Bringing tears to each eye.
And where are the friends
Of those days before?
Do they share the fond memories
Which I have in store?
Do they think of the Marshfield,
The old Wireless Lane,
Nicholl’s Brae, The Flat,
And the high Rock of Kane?
Do they recall the summers
By the Wee Rock at the Mill,
Or the sports in the Avenue
With many a thrill?
And what of the ‘characters’-
Ah, too many to relate;
It being good fortune
To share partly their fate…
Oh these memories of childhood,
Of school- days, of youth,
I cling to like life, as precious as truth.
And to those still living, my friends of the Roe
I drink you a toast to times long ago.
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Days Came Go...but It's Too Late....
and people wonder why i changed
but no one 's ever the same these days
past and past
wen i can't tke out no longer
i take it out on myself
no one ever really cares like your parents
and you wonder why i'm messed up
why i grew up in a messed up family
well they ain't really family
they never really cared, loved me told me i belong in this family
this home, these people these days
i cry myself to sleep
seems like the only reasonable thing to do
i wish i had a normal childhood
hoping i'd wake up in a different home, and different family
a differnt life
but that realy never happens now does it...
i taken up my whole lfe
back flashing, hoping things would change now
peace do they sell it in a store, or have it
seems i need it now or else nothing
everything in mind goes blank....
poem by Alvita Slim
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The Motel
For we're living in a safety zone
Don't be holding back from me
We're living from hour to hour down here
And we'll take it when we can
It's a kind of living which recognizes
The death of the odourless man
When nothing is vanity nothing's too slow
It's not Eden but it's no sham
There is no hell
There is no shame
There is no hell
Like an old hell
There is no hell
And it's lights up
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Madge
Old Madge who is in her late eighties is suffering from failing sight
But her memory it is flawless and she remains lucid and bright
She has vivid memories of her childhood which she feels happy to recall
I've had a good life she will tell you but my childhood years were best of all,
Her two great grand daughters are in their mid teens she says them I often do see
They are kind and lovely young ladies they always have been good to me
Her husband Tom died ten years ago they were married for fifty years
His end it was so slow and painful and memories of him still move her to tears
But she has got on with living life she says we cannot dwell in the past
The present is all that does matter though nothing in life seems to last
She surely is an inspiration the Madges of this World are rare
And though her sight it is slowly fading she is one unburdened by care
She always is happy and cheerful and she looks younger than her age
And from her life experiences she has learned much she surely is a female sage.
poem by Francis Duggan
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One Mans Meat
Cold beer and a strange cigarette
Getting you high getting you wet
Falling in love falling out of debt
Straight gay black or white
Strutting in the dark hiding in the light
Doing it wrong doing it right just doing it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right we all got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
Short fat thick or thin
Take it in the gut take it on the chin
Living in glory living in sin
Hard days work going down slow
Riding the road where the greengrass grows
Watching in die what dyou know
Watch it
You got your life on the one hand
Mine in the other
I got the right
One mans meat is the other mans lousy luck
One mans meat is someones empty well
One mans meat is some guys aching butt
One mans meat is another mans living hell
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2011/03/30 Sun-Bleached Blue
A brilliant blue sky in sea-side holiday style
with golden dollops of sunshine awakened
memories of good times, then I broke down,
admitted I am not a visionary who can keep
herself happy, I need the sun and sky, the
azure horizon and velvet green of trees
Without these props my smile comes at a
cost, the beauty of today a gift reminding
me how much I missed the sun-bleached
blue during past grey weeks, thrown back
on my imagination for sustenance, casting
about for a happy vision to replace
A glorious golden sun – the only face that
really fills the empty spaces in my life –
I might have over-identified with the sun-
beam imagery of childhood catechism,
now to replace the power of the sun in
my array of positive symbols – shall I
Still grow away from the sun in my
current life – no, not while its touch
means so much to me…
poem by Margaret Alice
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November
How can it be November when it seems January has just passed?
Though it is a special time to be thankful for memories amassed.
Think of all the good times shared with family and friends.
Remember that time steals them away so be sure to make amends
For thoughtless actions and words against these who are dear.
Thank them for the love and kindness which they have kept near.
Forgive them for their errors and faults by cleansing your mind
So that good times with family and friends is all there is to find.
Since happy days or unhappy days are often by one’s definition,
Know you are always in charge of choosing the correct rendition.
If you decide to be happy all will benefit from your style of living
Since every day in every way you’ll wish “Happy Thanksgiving! ”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Double E
Back in the country, living on the Double E
In the sunshine of her life
There's already a young fellow but Mom and Daddy won't let her leave
Mom and Poppa won't let her go
But when they go out dancin'
She breaks out on her own
She's hot enough to burn the house down
But Mom and Poppa don't know
When Edith and Earl renamed the Double E
They nearly made history
The locals rose up, some of them were mad as hell
Cause it used to be the Double L
Change comes slow in the country
When you're new there's a lot of distrust
Years fly by uneventful
Memories turn to dust
Meanwhile Granny has got her bright colors on
And the sun's shinin' in her eyes
Cruisin' by the bars and honky-tonks where she met Grandpa
And caught that young man's eye
Dusty white El Dorado
Cruisin' through the trees
Slippin' through the shadows
Of what used to be
Back in the days, living in the summer of love
Living in the summer of love
Grandma's okay, not the same since Grandpa's gone
She's living in the summer of love
Back in the days, living in the summer of love
Living in the summer of love
Living in the summer of love
Living in the summer of love
Back in the days, living in the summer of love
Living in the summer of love
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - Strangers
Here we stand to be counted
on life’s lonely road
fleeting strangers in times
of troubles and woe.
Strangers for moments
that pass so quickly by.
Friends are not easily
found in troubled times.
But here we are together
lonely except for life
outcasts of misunderstanding
that develop in our mind.
Children in our own world
finding happier times.
Disillusioned with people
that surround us daily.
Old is just a word
we pretend not to hear,
young is what we are
so why should we fear?
Darkness is only nighttime
hour when we sleep.
Daylight is for living
so why do we weep.
17 October 1979
poem by David Harris
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