Memories Of The Old House

In our old house
Paved with limestones
Many ferns and moss
Grow
But though how lush
And numerous have
They become
My memories
Still outnumber them

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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244

In our old house made of limestone
Many ferns and moss Grow

But though how lush
And numerous have
They become

My memories
Still outnumber them

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Beneath The Lush Of The Nipa Palms

beneath the lush of the nipa palms
are the homes of crabs beside is
the river the niche for the schools of
fish and on the river banks are
glossy pebbles some silent greens
of moss and ferns,
amidst all these beauteous secrets
perhaps we shall remember
how sweetly once we spent the
passionate night together...

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Beneath The Lush Of The Nipa Palms (2)

beneath the lush of the nipa palms
are the homes of crabs beside is
the river the niche for the schools of
fish and on the river banks are
glossy pebbles some silent greens
of moss and ferns,
amidst all these beauteous secrets
perhaps we shall remember
how sweetly once we spent the
passionate night together...

please, please, take time to remember.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Reflection 0.2

when you arrive here
there is no stone not a single stone
there is no moss not a single hair of a green moss
then there was the pain of waiting
time is always delaying its coming
trains stopped and cars are having flat tires
but you are faithful you keep on waiting you entertain promises
like dear memories or dreams or wishes that come true somehow
and you waited for so long

now this place is filled with stones and moss grow in each body of the stone
the waters spread their territories and land is emaciated
and the house is covered with water and the roof is gone

and there is nobody here anymore and it is only i who remember you and
i tell them about you and they do not believe me

and i feel like i am a ship that just sunk.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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thick moss
coats the roof of my house
foggy memories

haiku by Chenou LiuReport problemRelated quotes
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Big Yellow Taxi

They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot
A pink hotel, a boutique and a swinging hot spot
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
They took all the trees, they put them in a tree museum
They charged the people a dollar and a half just to see them
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
Hey farmer, farmer, put away that d.d.t
Give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees, please,
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
Late last night I heard my screen door slam
A big yellow buldozer took away the house and land
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.

song performed by by Bob DylanReport problemRelated quotes
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Your Own Disater

Just think of this and me,
as just a few of the many things,
to lie around and clutter up your shelves
I wish you wern't worht the wait
cos theres somthing id like to say to you
and i dont think that you knwo what you've been missing
and i dont think that you knwow hat you've been missing
and i dare you to forget
the marks oyu left across my neck
from those nights when we were both at our best
and now i could make this obvious
and you, you could deny me
all in one breath you could shug mr off your shoulders
cos i dont think that you know what oyuve been missing
and i dont hitnk that you knwo what you've been missing
cos i dont think that you,
i said i dont think that you know
cos i dont think that you know what youve been missing
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
hey lush have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(oh i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
(oh i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
its the weekend
(forget me, its that simple)
(no i dont think that you know what you've been missing)
hey lush, have fun
(forget me, its that simple)
forget me its that simple
forget me its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
no i dont think that you know what youve been missing)
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
forget me, its that simple
just forget me , its that simple

song performed by by Taking Back SundayReport problemRelated quotes
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The moss that loves the stone

It is the moss that loves the stone
Most. No matter what or when, the
Moss somehow manages to stay
Even without a why, they say.
But the moss keeps on sticking
To the body of the stone that
Keeps its nonminding stiffness.
It is cold, it is hard, it is unfeeling
At all. It is the moss that keeps its
Love. It sticks with it, rain or shine.
It rolls with it. It stays with it even
In the desert, even it if means its
Own death. It is the moss that sticks
To the stone. It is its true lover.
In the river, the water has ordered
The moss to leave. It ordered the stone
To crush it. The moss cannot be
Removed. It covered the stone.
It is loving it whole.The stone has
Become the moss, and the stone
Is gone.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost imperceptibly

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories
.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy and Faded Memories...

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
..or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Lost It...I Don't Know When Or

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptivly.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Somewhere...Somehow...I Lost It

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
..or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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The Indian Springs

I KNOW a shady hollow 'neath the pines,
Rich floored with velvet moss and trailing vines,
Where grouping ferns grow lusty, tall, and green,
With sipping from the bowl o'er which they lean;
And crimson berries on the margin cling,
Like drops of blood about the Indian spring.

On this same spot these many years ago
A graceful figure knelt and, bending low,
Wrist-deep in moss, one hand curved to a cup,
The water to her scarlet lips dipped up.
A heron's wing drooped from her dusky hair,
Which draped her rich-hued cheeks and shoulders bare.

Swift, stealthy footsteps took her by surprise;
She started, flushed, and met his eager eyes,—
A noble figure, young and lithe and tall,
With one proud eagle feather crowning all.
A pause, a word, and lo! the heron's wing
Brushed with the eagle's there above the spring.

Two cruel eyes gleamed from the piny shade,
Fixed on the bended heads of man and maid;
Sudden, a gray goose feather with a twang
Of hate and envy from the darkness sprang.
One shrilling cry—the heron wing was fled;
Low lay the eagle plume; the spring ran red.

The years have gone; new mosses veil the ground,
New ferns, new vines:—but here the spring I found,
And here the gray goose shalt its story told,—
A heart of flint 'neath moss and years of mold
And vines to which the blood-red berries cling,
I found an arrow by the Indian spring.

poem by Abbie Farwell Brown from The New England Magazine / Volume 22, Issue 4 (1897)Report problemRelated quotes
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Memories

Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories

Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories

Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories

Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories

Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours

Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too

Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories

poem by Adam McKimReport problemRelated quotes
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Big Yellow Taxi

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swinging hot spot
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop-bop
They took all the trees and put em in a tree museum
And then they charged all the poeple twenty-five bucks just to see em
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop-bop
Hey farmer, farmer, put away your ddt now
Give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees, please
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
I say, they paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Late last night I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi carried off my old man
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Oh, now, they paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Hey, steam rolled paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop

song performed by by Amy GrantReport problemRelated quotes
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Your Own Disaster

Just think of this and me
as just a few of many things
to lie around
to clutter up your shelves
And I wish you weren't worth the wait
because there's some thing's
I'd like to say to you...
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Cuz I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
I dare you to forget
those marks you left
across my neck
from those nights when we were both
found at our best
I could make this obvious,
and in one breath
you could shrug me off
your shoulders...
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Cuz I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Hey, lush, have fun
It's the weekend
Hey, lush, have fun
Hey, lush, have fun
It's the weekend
Hey, lush, have fun
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
I don't think that
you know what
you've been missing
Just forget me
it's that simple
Just forget me
it's that simple

song performed by by Taking Back SundayReport problemRelated quotes
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Functionality....

ah, the natives here
do not just watch the beauty of the tall ferns
by the side of the river

it is not just the waterfalls
and the vines

they are bringing baskets
gathering those ferns
as salad for breakfast.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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