To A Lady With A Withered Violet
THOUGH fate upon this faded flower
His withering hand has laid,
Its odour'd breath defies his power,
Its sweets are undecayed.
And thus, although thy warbled strains
No longer wildly thrill,
The memory of the song remains,
Its soul is with me still.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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Sonnet. The Day Is Gone
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise--
Vanished unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday -- or holinight
Of fragrant-curtained love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;
But, as I've read love's missal through today,
He'll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.
poem by John Keats
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The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone,
Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang'rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise—
Vanished unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday—or holinight
Of fragrant-curtained love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight;
But, as I've read love's missal through today,
He'll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sheshonk He's Shrunk
How are the mighty fallen! King of kings
around whose word world spun, just dust remains
confined near Nile which ignorantly brings
feast or famine as high fate ordains.
He lies forgotten, for what poet sings
his praise to raise most memorable strains.
Faded now are former hieroglyphs,
he and all generations since despair,
life like lost lemmings heading o'er fate's cliffs,
lose base pace space race trace face fair - unfair
seems life's strife dreams which nano seconds blaze,
then lost in haze lies memory of our day.
(14 February 2010 revised 4 February 2012)
For previous version see below and also link to wiki
How are the mighty fallen! King of kings
around whose word world spun in dust remains
confined near Nile which ignorantly brings
feast or famine as high fate ordains,
lies now forgotten, for what poet sings
his praise to raise most memorable strains.
Faded now are former hieroglyphs,
he and all generations since despair,
life like lost lemmings heading o'er fate's cliffs,
lose base pace space race trace face fair - unfair
seems life's strife dreams which for few seconds blaze,
then lost in haze lies memory of our days.
robi03_1962_robi03_0000 XXX_DJZ
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Flower of Love
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower,
Its blush so bright, its thorns so many;
And winter on its bloom has power,
But has not on its sweetness any.
For though young Love's ethereal rose
Will droop on Age's wintry bosom,
Yet still its faded leaves disclose
The fragrance of their earliest blossom.
But ah! the fragrance lingering there
Is like the sweets that mournful duty
Bestows with sadly-soothing care,
To deck the grave of bloom and beauty.
For when its leaves are shrunk and dry,
Its blush extinct, to kindle never,
That fragrance is but Memory's sigh,
That breathes of pleasures past for ever.
Why did not Love the amaranth choose,
That bears no thorns, and cannot perish ?
Alas! no sweets its flowers diffuse,
And only sweets Love's life can cherish.
But be the rose and amaranth twined,
And Love, their mingled powers assuming,
Shall round his brows a chaplet bind,
For ever sweet, for ever blooming.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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The Dance Thief
The masked figure took to the dance floor and
as he twirled his wicked hands and spun wildly around
he cast frightful shadows in
the vacant space that haunt me still
Like limbs of a tree whose life winter has taken
Ashen and disfigured like the forsaken remains
of a fire's last consumption
And as he danced the lights overhead receded
and with him the record cackled louder
The notes slipped into a shaky minor chord
and soon I was emptied -
drained and paralyzed from all he'd stolen
For the song no longer played my heart strings
and my soul broke into a half note
My precious glistening wooden floor boards that
once bore my prancing feet
had been banished from my presence
and left to rot in the withering hands of
this dark, godless, ghastly thief
who so dared to steal my dance
poem by Argentine Tango
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To The Poets Who Only Read And Listen
WHEN evening's shadowy fingers fold
The flowers of every hue,
Some shy, half-opened bud will hold
Its drop of morning's dew.
Sweeter with every sunlit hour
The trembling sphere has grown,
Till all the fragrance of the flower
Becomes at last its own.
We that have sung perchance may find
Our little meed of praise,
And round our pallid temples bind
The wreath of fading bays.
Ah, Poet, who hast never spent
Thy breath in idle strains,
For thee the dewdrop morning lent
Still in thy heart remains;
Unwasted, in its perfumed cell
It waits the evening gale;
Then to the azure whence it fell
Its lingering sweets exhale.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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My Wilted Flower
Your waking dreams
I hear your screams
Of the hour
My wilted flower
All alone
Can’t go home
You must cower
My wilted flower
So much pain
Standing in the rain
You are not of power
My wilted flower
You run away
And there you stay
In the cold rain shower
My wilted flower
Memories of all the hate
Your horrible fate
They no longer tower
My wilted flower
In peace you die
I mustn’t cry
Your last hour
My wilted flower
~2009~
poem by Jennifer Cramer
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Make It Like A Memory
Didnt I like to hold you in my hand
I was doing you no harm
I made you understand
All my life Ive been that way
It happened long ago
Didnt I pray to love you through the night
I was dreaming wide awake
The early morning light shine on me
A sorry state
My heart has told me so
And the storm clouds gather overhead
No shelter we can share
Lie down in my flower bed
I got no control
I would sell my soul
To be there
So forever do or die
We just belong
Kiss hello , no wave goodbye
And the heat is stronger
For the moment when we touch
No wind can hold me
Come from loving you too much
And the nights are longer
Make it like a memory
Make it like a dream unreal
Make it like we never met
But I cant forget
Its how I feel
Make it like a memory
Take away the sound and the sight
Therell never be another love
With the power of , you and i
Maybe Im wrong to hold you in my hand
I believed you when you lied
I tried to understand
All my life , Ive been that way
It happened long ago
Make it like a memory
Make it like a dream unreal
Make it like we never ever met
But I cant forget
Its how I feel
Make it like a memory
Take away the sound and the sight
Therell never be another love
With the power of , you and i
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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ALZHEIMER'S ZONG(for my old pal Al)
'The soul bone's
connected to the heart bone! '
'The heart bone's
connected to the mind bone! '
'The mind bone's
connected to the bone bone! '
'The bone bone's
connected to the thought bone! '
'The Thought bone's
connected to the Time bone! '
'The Time bone's
connected to the memory bone! '
'The memory bone's...'
'The memory bones...'
'... memory's bones...'
'Now where have all
the words
...gone! '
*******
I used to look after someone with Alzheimer's and she used to sing this over and over and chuckle to herself until the wordsand she gradually faded away and there was no enough memory and wit to sustain the song or her any longer.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Sad Flower
I was walking through a flower garden
and this beautiful flower laid over looking so sad.
It drew me closer i just had to know why?
As bent over and put the flower in my hand
my eyes got rushed with this intense light!
Then i could see with pure delight
what made the flower so sad.
A lady name rush was there before me
and held the flower in her hand
and give a kiss and told the flower i love
you.
Then she was gone
with a mighty rush of wind
for the beautiful flower has been dethrone
poem by Randy Hogan
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Forgotten Scar
The day his mark faded
From its place upon my skin
His hold on me was lifted
The love my heart once bore for him
And the pain my mind told me his memory brought
Along with all the marks he left upon my body
Faded to a distant memory
Now and forever gone
He is nothing to me
Nothing
Now he is only
A faded and forgotten scar
In the memory of my heart
poem by DiAnne Douglass
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Dead Memory
Your memory no longer lingers through my life.
You were there once and now your gone.
Your memory has died like a rose when it is cut from the rest of the world.
Your torns no longer cut my heart.
My voice no longer whispers you name,
I no longer look for you in other people in other faces.
I no longer dream of you or wish that I see you once again.
My heart no longer cries or bleeds for you, not no more.
You no longer haunt my dreams or my memories.
I finally found someone that keeps me warm at night,
I finally found someone who has helped me erase your memory.
I no longer fall and stumble but I now walk tall.
Your memory was a weight that I carried through out time
that now I am free.
I can say that I no longer love you, for you are a dead memory
poem by Elizabeth Gaytan
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As If It Was A Crime
Your mother had given you
a few coins to buy sweets
and on the way you met Fay
and you said
do you want to come
and buy some sweets?
and she said
I haven't any money
and you said
you can share mine
if you tell me what you like
but she said
my father wouldn't like it
if I had sweets he says
they rot your teeth
but she walked to the shop with you
thinking silently to herself
and outside the shop
you said
are you sure?
she nodded and stood outside
while you went in
and bought sweets
when you came out
she was waiting there
her eyes gazing at you
her tongue running over
her lips
you showed her
what you'd bought
and her eyes widened
here take one
you said
your dad won't know
if you don't tell him
she hesitated
her fingers lingering
over the bag of sweets
but what if he sees me
or smells them
on my breath?
she said fear entering her eyes
her hands falling at her sides
you put out a hand
and touched hers
it's only a sweet
it's not as if
you're having a drag of a smoke
or sipping beer
she nodded and smiled a little
best not
she said
if he finds out
he'll get angry with me
for eating sweets and lying
and you remembered
the bruises you'd seen
on her arms and thighs
that time
and you sighed thinking
as if eating sweets
was a big deal or a crime.
poem by Terry Collett
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Alone And Forsaken
we met in the springtime
when the blossoms unfold
the pastures green
and the meadow gold
our love was in flower
as the summer grew on
her love like the leaves
have all withered and gone
roses have faded
and there's frost at my door
the bird of the morning
wont sing anymore
the grass in the valley
has started to die
and out in the darkness
the whippoorwill cry
alone and forsaken
by fate and by man
o lord if you hear me
take hold my hand
where has she gone to
where can she be
she may have forsaken
some other like me
she promised to honor
to love and obey
each vow a plaything
she threw away
the darkness has fallen
the sky turns gray
the hound in the distance
has started to bay
i wonder i wonder
what she's thinking of
forsaken forgotten
without any love
alone and forsaken
by fate and by man
o lord can you hear me
take hold my hand
alone and forsaken
by fate and by man
o lord can you hear me
take hold my hand
alone and forsaken
by fate and by man
o lord can you hear me
take hold my hand
please understand
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gardener LVII: I Plucked Your Flower
I plucked your flower, O world!
I pressed it to my heart and the
thorn pricked.
When the day waned and it
darkened, I found that the flower had
faded, but the pain remained.
More flowers will come to you with
perfume and pride, O world!
But my time for flower-gathering
is over, and through the dark night
I have not my rose, only the pain
remains.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Death-Day Of Korner
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
The youth went down to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He went, with his noble heart unworn,
And pure, and high;
An eagle stooping from clouds of morn,
Only to die!
He went with the lyre, whose lofty tone
Beneath his hand
Had thrill'd to the name of his God alone,
And his Father-land.
And with all his glorious feelings yet
In their first glow,
Like a southern stream that no frost hath met
To chain its flow.
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He hath left a voice in his trumpet-lays
To turn the flight,
And a guiding spirit for after days,
Like a watch-fire's light.
And a grief in his father's soul to rest,
Midst all high thought;
And a memory unto his mother's breast,
With healing fraught.
And a name and fame above the blight
Of earthly breath,
Beautiful beautiful and bright,
In life and death!
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Oh! I Cry
We only can miss what was once in existence
An answer to no question, i give to you
Yes she existed,
And now i miss her
She came but never had the plan to stay longer
Never had the plan to witness the peace and unity
To see mom and dad drink from the same cup again
Oh! i cry.
I was happy i met her
Sad because she left unannounced
Never to come back
All i have now is memory of her
A memory of how good and bad things were
Memory that will never say my name again like she use to
Nor give me those worming and welcome smile of hers
Oh! i cry.
Give me the power to turn back the hand of time
And we will be kids again
Give me the power to raise the dead
And she will still have abundant air in her lungs
Give me the power to stop death
And i wont be crying these tears
But here i stand beside her grave heart broken
Fantasizing on what could have been
Oh! i cry.
Dedicated to the memory of my sweet late sister.
Linda N. Nwaokolo
poem by Chuks Kevin Nwaokolo
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Psalm 71 part 3
v.17-21
C. M.
The aged Christian's prayer and song.
God of my childhood and my youth,
The guide of all my days,
I have declared thy heav'nly truth,
And told thy wondrous ways.
Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs,
And leave my fainting heart?
Who shall sustain my sinking years,
If God my strength depart?
Let me thy power and truth proclaim
To the surviving age;
And leave a savor of thy name
When I shall quit the stage.
The land of silence and of death
Attends my next remove;
O may these poor remains of breath
Teach the wide world thy love!
PAUSE.
Thy righteousness is deep and high,
Unsearchable thy deeds;
Thy glory spreads beyond the sky,
And all my praise exceeds.
Oft have I heard thy threat'nings roar,
And oft endured the grief;
But when thy hand has pressed me sore,
Thy grace was my relief.
By long experience have I known
Thy sovereign power to save;
At thy command I venture down
Securely to the grave.
When I lie buried deep in dust,
My flesh shall be thy care;
These withering limbs with thee I trust,
To raise them strong and fair.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Since I Laid Eyes On You
(Ellen Shipley/Billy Steinberg/Sandy Stewart)
Why did I show my hand
Now you know your wish
Is my command
I never longed for things I didn't have
But that's no longer true
Since I laid eyes on you
I know I'm not the same
I don't need a fortune
Don't care about fame
But my soul is a burning flame
Can't sleep the whole night through
Since I laid eyes on you
I want your sweet caress
I dream of your tenderness
Oh I never, ever felt like this
I swear
Look what you've done for me
Oh boy, it's poetry
When I see the wind in your hair
The tears well up inside
Oh, what will turn the tide
And I've been waiting for you to decide
That you love me too
Since I laid eyes on you
What else could I do
Since I laid eyes on you
You, you, you, you
On you
Oh, yeah
Since I laid eyes
On you, you, you
song performed by by Faith Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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James Garber
Do you remember, passer-by, the path
I wore across the lot where now stands the opera house,
Hasting with swift feet to work through many years?
Take its meaning to heart:
You too may walk, after the hills at Miller's Ford
Seem no longer far away;
Long after you see them near at hand,
Beyond four miles of meadow;
And after woman's love is silent,
Saying no more: "I will save you."
And after the faces of friends and kindred
Become as faded photographs, pitifully silent,
Sad for the look which means: "We cannot help you."
And after you no longer reproach mankind
With being in league against your soul's uplifted hands --
Themselves compelled at midnight and at noon
To watch with steadfast eye their destinies;
After you have these understandings, think of me
And of my path, who walked therein and knew
That neither man nor woman, neither toil,
Nor duty, gold nor power
Can ease the longing of the soul,
The loneliness of the soul!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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