Silence
The Time of rhymes,
Is past and gone,
Of joy and songs divine
Now sadness sets into my path,
And life's no longer mine,
The silent tears flow endlessly,
The rivers of my past,
And silently, I move away,
'Forever', did not last.
poem by Sandra Feldman
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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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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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Unending Love
I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age-old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.
Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Some Silence Hanged Wordless Between Us
Next to a silver river, a clear stream
you were dreaming against a willow,
with a small smile, silent and satisfied
as if something great happened in the past
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
In your eyes light sparkled like stars,
a leave fell and glided away
when suddenly a plover called from the marsh
with others answering from far away
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
Where the water flows endlessly
you got quickly to your feet,
your glance went deep into my soul
and we could not evade our feelings,
when your bright eyes suddenly caught mine,
words hang silently between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Running From The Past
i keep running,
but looking back as well,
i try,
not to cry,
but the tears flow freely,
i continue to run,
i trip,
i fall,
i am burning in hell,
the past catchs up to me,
it kills me,
takes my life,
i run from the past,
but i am really,
running towards the future,
its where i see the light,
when i dont have to fight,
when my life,
is now mine,
unill i reach that,
i will always be,
running from the past.
poem by Alicia Roseberry
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Wintermoon
Under stars,
under sky,
I will walk,
my path and fate.
Wathing the moon,
the ghostly light,
enchanted by its beauty.
I will walk forever on,
knowing that past is past,
and future is future.
Life is only lived in the present.
I will walk,
in winter, spring, summer and autumm,
watching the moon,
enchanted by its beauty.
I walk down the path of spring,
knowing my fate awaits,
I'm walking the path of life.
I walk the path of summer,
looking at the sun,
warmed by the sun,
I'm alive and growing,
nature is part of me.
I walk the path of autumm,
seeing the prey of death,
beautiful coulours of the fiery soul,
striving to live once again.
Once future, now the base of knowledge,
THE future.
I walk down the path of winter,
looking at the wintersky,
bewitched by the wintermoon,
so clean,
so beautiful,
and yet so cold.
I will live in the present,
walking towards the future,
while this life of mine is build upon the past.
The past is me,
I'm the past, the present and the future.
More fundamentally, it is a dream that does not die with the onset of manhood: the dream is to play endlessly, past the time when you are called home for dinner, past the time of doing chores, past the time when your body betrays you past time itself.
quote by John Thorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Love
Shallow muffles smashed,
beneath the covers
shields my cries and holds my tears,
forgive my sins and heal my soul
though screams fell in-vain
i look for a better past
a new life cause none better
every exist as far as i move on
i fall and rise to fall again
so guide my hands and light my path
as i slowly move in the dark
scared of my own shadow
looking of my shoulder
as i curl up in a ball
this thing in side kills me
as my love for you have been hiding
though you're gone
i see you in my eyes
as i try to deny the fact
as no longer do your
face appear in reality
as moments no longer bring joy
and a smile no longer show,
suffering filled this heart break
as i look deep at my reflection
i see you remembering
your time on this earth
as you brought me joy
poem by Robert Roberts
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Until you heal the wounds of your past, You will continue to bleed into the future,
Until you heal the wounds of your past,
You will continue to bleed into the future,
One can own ones past, but you can heal,
Move on I was told, by a human heart, mine,
A statement I read,
'Until you heal the wounds of your past, you will continue to bleed into the future.'
Gave me the the words,
I now own my future,
My human heart told me, it is time,
I own my past,
Now the past is misplaced,
It will rear it's ugly head, from time to time,
But the future is mine to keep,
Beyond all past examples, the future is mine,
Not knowing the future is exciting,
But it's mine to dream.
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
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My Memories
Today will be a memory
yesterday is a memory drifting away
memories turn into tears,
tearing us apart.
Fear of moving on, afraid of change,
in a minute this will just be a memory
memories are all pain in vain
memories are like dreams, a reflection of the past.
Memories are vision of what it used to be.
my memories are sadness and struggle
what are yours?
are they sadness and struggle?
You are but a memory
that dwindles as each day passes me by.
and as you slowly vanish
I huddle in my room and cry.
A memory that’s all I have
that’s all that’s left of you
nothing but a mere memory
that still lingers, only for a little while longer in my head.
Don’t forget about the past
without memories there is no yesterday.
make every day one to remember a
memory to move on with no regrets
poem by lizzy Sydney
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The Span
I stand at the center of my span
And watch the river below
It's water's constant moving
Like time it never slows
And as I stand and reflect
Of what lies on either side
On one shore lies what is past
The other what the future hides
If I step back into the past
Could it ever be the same
Can dreams of yesterday
Somehow be maintained
And if I step onto future's shore
Will I be able to find my way
A path unknown to travel
Leading us ever forward into the unseen day
Chained here like a prisoner
Between the two shores I stand
Trapped between past and future
Will I forever stay here on my span
So now the time has come to leave
To future's shore I go
Time always moves forward
Like the waters endless flow
But where this path will lead me
One day I'm sure to know
poem by William Calvert
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My Shadow
Things I have left behind
Within an effort to move forward,
Counting every minute, every second-
Reliving my life through every hour, day and year-
The night time sky is falling before my own eyes
Blocking the pathway before me, blinding me-
I cannot foresee a future-The rain that fell every time
I tried to venture outward,
Rain that transformed to tears
When all hope had ostensibly disappeared.
Things I have left behind-
Places where I had been locked inside,
Having lost grounds with all that is real-
Perhaps a few roses in a cracked vase by my bedside,
A mother that did not care and a father that did not believe-
When through my own eyes my world had fallen to pieces.
I left behind many people-
People I did not trust and it was then that I knew
I had to rebuild my foundation,
To build a future for myself that would be mine and mine alone-
Things I have left behind are now
Gone and gone forever-all that is left is time-
Time to move on and to bury the past in my back yard and
Search for hope, a purpose and a new reality.
These things I have left behind are sinking into the ground-
Now I can foresee a future- the flame on my candle is burning
Guiding me as I run forward into a garden of blossoming trees and
A paved pathway upon which to run forward- and a cloudless sky
Where I can lift my wings, once broken and are healing, and fly-
Fly high above looking down below at my newfound veracity-
I know if I were to take a look behind-
All I could see would be a shadow upon a sidewalk-
A shadow of my past and everybody knows that shadows don't last forever, and
All else that I have left behind is gone forever,
Looking forward at the allure of the springtime and
I see clearly now- there is no more rain and as I look above me
I can see trees seemingly touching the sun against a deep blue sky-
I can see clearly now because my eyes are open wide and
There are no tears to cry today and when I glance behind me-
All I see is a shadow- that shadow of my past, vanishing in the late spring's breeze-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Dead Can Never
Dead can never come alive
They got to be buried underneath to relive
They stay with peaceful time and in silence
So not to be disturbed by and stay with peace
Past is past and to be buried
Never to be remembered and opened
It has its bruise and sad side
Why we should bother about it and hide?
If you carry it further and bear at heart
It will be slow poison from the start
It may make you mentally sick and spread slowly
To whole body and kill you gradually
Past is to be forgotten
Wealth is to be donated if ill gotten
Life is for change and must move on
As river water moves for the purity of its own
Body may decay
Vision may go away
Hands may refuse to move
Only soul waits to be removed
One day you may be silent past
Life may move suddenly very fast
Death may knock and take you over
You need not find then any cover
You are gone forever
From the human memory with stop over
Few family members may remember on some occasion
Then slowly you will be put in 'question'
You were and now you are no more
Life size picture may be pushed in store
You will be taken out on anniversary
As it may then be felt necessary
Live in present as it is living thing
Past has no place for lively thing
If present is bestowed as blessings
Never afford to loose with other happenings
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Memories
Today will be a memory
yesterday is a memory drifting away
memories turn into tears,
tearing us apart.
Fear of moving on, afraid of change,
in a minute this will just be a memory
memories are all pain in vain
memories are like dreams, a reflection of the past.
Memories are vision of what it used to be.
my memories are sadness and struggle
what are yours?
are they sadness and struggle?
You are but a memory
that dwindles as each day passes me by.
and as you slowly vanish
I huddle in my room and cry.
A memory that’s all I have
that’s all that’s left of you
nothing but a mere memory
that still lingers, only for a little while longer in my head.
Don’t forget about the past
without memories there is no yesterday.
make every day one to remember a
memory to move on with no pain or anymore regrets
poem by Ralph Acosta
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My Assumption Of An Attractive Passerby
so poetic
so divine in her ways
please paint me the way
my path is no longer
the path of peacefulness i desire
contentment in all
i wish to have
with every stroke
she paints me
she makes me, Me
creates me, Me
every mistake is flaw
every flaw is divine
her movements celestial
heavenly only to mine eye
an ode to an assumption
a passerby to my naked eye
gone forever
until again
she may be my passerby
poem by Eric Markisen
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Autumn
I have let go of time,
I have let days disappear and
As I walk down this pathway of life
For a brief moment
I have become a child again-
Not knowing where to run to or
How to evade misconceptions,
I do know that there are trees
Behind which to hide and even fortresses in the air-
Memories of my childhood, seeing what others did not see,
Being forever slighted and misunderstood,
Memories of my empty heart and these memories I cannot escape.
I often ask myself why these recollections of fear, sadness and mistrust
Have become a branch upon a tree that
Will not break and blow away in a windstorm and
More recent recurrences which others have
Deemed as impressive and worthwhile have
Vanished perhaps high in the sky as
Riding upon a shooting star that has burnt out in the universe-
I have let days disappear although not
Memories of childhood sorrows and rivers of tears-
I am drowning inside a tributary of sadness.
Leaves upon the trees turning rust, yellow and even red in the autumn,
Cool air at dawn caresses my arms within a brief moment of pleasure-
A voice inside of my mind tells me to never let go of present moments, as
The leaves shower upon me in a gust of wind and
This being the most picturesque and enlightening time of the year-
I am learning- never let go of time,
Never let these days disappear.
Childhood moments of abuse, disappointment and unrelenting pain,
Are forever gone and we must grasp onto today and
Perhaps even the future- I know not where to run to although
I shall keep running forward and cease looking behind-
Kicking fallen leaves aside and breathing the crisp autumn air-
As I bury the past within a moment of realization that
The agonizing past moments that we only see inside of our minds
Have ridden that shooting star and are lost someplace in the universe, while
I can see time ahead and in this present moment
Being a colorful aura and worth a lifetime of happiness.
I grasp and hold onto time, while letting all of those tears cried for yesterday
Flow downstream and over stones and to be forgotten as
Earth in a flurry of a storm-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Let The Tears Dry
Let the tears dry and bring back your smile,
Hear the mountains cry.
The tears will grow where you laid your tears,
Rivers will flow, rivers will flow,
Flow where you rest your fears.
A soul has fled when the blood was shed,
A soul that cared for life so deeply.
The memory will grow in us
And make you and I a family.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For My History Teacher
I’m sitting in class,
My eyes about to close,
I hope teacher don’t see,
I hope she don’t see me.
Bored out of my mind,
Falling so behind,
Cannot concentrate,
I came to class too late.
Although I was on time,
My body was I mean,
My mind is still outside,
From class trying to hide.
What does all this mean?
I haven’t used it yet,
How can I retain it,
When already I forget?
And then she walks over,
That teacher of mine,
A smile in her eyes,
A gentle one at that,
She puts her hand on me,
And sets me kind of free.
Now here I am in class,
Learning about the past,
About history,
And what it did for me.
How we can learn,
From mistakes of old,
Of people so different,
Some so very bold.
Some stood against oppression,
Some stood against the wrong,
Some said it with dignity,
Some said it with a song.
I owe it to them,
And teacher here to hear,
What they did for us,
And no longer fear.
That knowledge is so dull,
No longer hurts my brain,
No longer hurts my skull,
It will surely keep me sane.
The past is the future,
Unless I stay awake,
So I can benefit,
There’s much more at stake.
Than I thought before,
Before I got to class,
Thank you History teacher,
For bringing to life the past.
I never got bored in History class, because I had a wonderful History Teacher. This is for her.
poem by Aisha Sherazi
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Extreme Courage
Life is beautiful...
and ugly
Life is a gift....
we cruise and unleash our potentials...
waits...are the....scrap metals......or diamonds....
Passion is like rivers
water flowing endlessly
You can swim
but don't get drowned.....
Those who struggles gravely in early life
Would comes out a winner
In later life
Caught in the crossfire of.....
entangled past....
you deliberately diminish the agony and pain...
with dignity
A home is a home for the homeless
a great place to live
This whole big things........
living is an illusions..
it will vanished
when we're no longer here
Free flow of passionate ideas that calm a troubled heart....
charming thinking
I’ve the courage...
to write it so great
read...
before going to bed........
before dead..
make it a date....
not too late
.
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Let It Be
Now that I am no longer blind,
And we are totally apart:
I need different thoughts in my mind
And new feelings in my heart…
I must stop dwelling in my past,
Just take different paths and move-on
Since many things in life never last,
Change the course of my life and be strong;
And once and for all, burial my past,
Whether I was right or I was wrong…
Life is beautiful and my love is vast,
It is time to listen to a new song….
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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