A Strange Question Indeed
A young man under thirty his memory seemed gone
I thought for a moment he's having me on
When he asked me what year 'twas he did not even smile
Then methought he does not seek his amusement through guile.
I told him 06 yet it puzzles me so
That the year he is living in he does not know
Can people in their mid twenties suffer from the onset of alzheimers disease
That at such a young age his memory is starting to freeze?
But then I thought with him there could be something else wrong
Maybe last night he did overpuff on his bong
'Tis not good for the memory this stuff wizzy weed
Either way the young man of help did seem in need.
He had not been drinking as he walked a straight line
And health wise he is one who looks rather fine
And though to have a poor memory is never a sin
He seems too young not to know the year he is living in.
He looked in his mid twenties or a year or two more
And one I had never lain eyes on before
From one of his age a strange question indeed
The affects of alzheimers or too much wizzy weed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
The Memory Remains Inside My Head
The memory remains insise my head
Because that is where my memory is kept
I don't have alzheimers it
And I don't want that for myself either
Let me tell you
My memory is very sharp
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Little Park Planted
The little park planted in memory of a boy
who fell in the war begins
to resemble him
as he was twenty eight years ago.
Year by year they look more alike.
His old parents come almost daily
to sit on a bench
and look at him.
And every night the memory in the garden
hums like a little motor.
During the day you can't hear it.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Of Childhood I Have Such Good Memories
I recall when I was a young boy in my ninth year going on ten
I heard the shy cock pheasant cucking in early Summer in the rushy glen
He was one that I did hear often though him I rarely ever did see
A memory from the mid fifties that lives on in my memory,
I was growing to love Mother Nature even got to know some birds by their song
The chattering voice of the magpie was something one could not get wrong
The familiar song of the chaffinch he sings in my memory today
He sang on the birch tree in the meadow that scented of freshly mown hay,
Of childhood I have such good memories with Nature to me always near
the robin he sang in the woodlet he could be heard all through the year
I lived in an Earthly Utopia at least that's how to me it did seem
The bluebells bloomed close to the hedgerow the dipper he sang in the stream
And with me I carry those memories till death with me they will remain
And often in my flights of fancy I visit my childhood again
poem by Francis Duggan
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Why is there War?
A young person asked me
why is there war?
people getting killed
and for what for?
All she saw was hate
no love only fear
never ending wars
year after year.
Is it about money
oil or land
is it religion?
I don't understand.
Young soldiers dying
going to an early grave
all this for their country
they must be very brave.
She waited for an answer
looked me straight in the eye
she really wanted to know
why the innocent had to die.
Sadly I couldn't give her an answer
I had to leave her standing there
maybe she should ask someone
like George Bush or Tony Blair?
poem by Kevin Halls
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I live and will die by you
It is my memory of you
That kindles my spirit.
It is the same memory
That swindles my heart.
My head is full with your thought.
My bed is sore from the same thought.
Day by day pain aggravates;
The same way does my plight.
It is my memory of you
That gives me joy.
It is the same memory
That sends me to sorrow.
You throw on me the day and the night.
I enjoy both in different lights.
I cherish you in my memory;
I may perish from the same memory
29.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Every Year This Day
every year
this day
gets further
i cant see him
anymore
just a photo memory
golf club
wings
plastic
never semblance
enough of him
or of me
in him.
every year
this day creeps
further
just
out of grasp
so that i
outstretch
and fail.
he slips right through me
a ghost
a whisper
a lie.
every year
this day
i await dread
and then calm
quantifying fear
counting
recounting
little trinket tattoos
of memory added
to a jar
of years missed
days missed
like these,
where he cannot see me
or show me
what forever means.
i wonder today
what he'd say
if he knew i knew
such sorrow.
every year
this day
i feel more
often less
and that,
knowing he is slipping
away further,
hurts more than
that he is gone.
poem by Danielle Le Chat
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The Happiest Old
The happiest old
have nothing and don't mind.
The happiest young
are old before their time.
Few these.
The others are behind their years,
suffer thirteen-year-olds' fears
into their twenties,
and in their forties
have appetite
for sins of twenty.
But not the bite.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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My New Year
Feeling my age, not yet ready to get off the stage.
its last curtain call then it falls.
Another year comes to an end and another one begins.
listen to the people hear the thousands as they scream so loud.
a night to be proud. a night to reach for the clouds. dreams a plenty, changing are so many. time settle down.
time to look ahead and instead of constantly look back.
its in the here and now. not some faded memory.
the energy is building. the moment is increasing.
then everything explodes. what is all this commotion?
its my new year. it my new year. creating a world without fear.
making all the demons disappear.
with my words so sincere.
It over before you know it so just sit back and enjoy it.
with a wicked grin i can say this my new year.
my year oh yeah ...
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Without Our Gift Of Memory
What would we be without the power to recall?
Without our gift of memory we'd be little at all
To those who lose their memory confusion is their lot
The faces of friends and family by them even forgot
For the children and kindred of alzheimers sufferers life must be very sad
The memory loss of a sibling, uncle, aunty, mum or dad
Though 'tis a natural instinct for us to cling to life's breath
In a choice between death and loss of memory I think I would choose death
I am a lucky fellow my gift of memory I retain
And I hope till my last breath of life that with me it will remain
To the great gift of memory I will gladly drink a toast
In that sense I am lucky far luckier than most
Life would not be worth much without it the great gift of memory
I am sure at what I say here that most with me would agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Faithful Witness
To the firstborn of Yahseph,
Of all that is created;
To the secondborn of Yahseph,
Do set set your mind on Mount Zion;
For His name is His glory and,
Of the economic well-being.
Of the year of the rat,
Of the year of the dog,
Of the year of the cow,
Of the year of the bull,
Of the year of the sheep,
Of the year of the dragon,
Of the year of the snake,
Of the year of the pig,
Of the year of the goat,
Of the year of the lizard,
Of the year of the crocodile,
Of the year of the elephant,
Of the year of the scorpion,
Of the year of the turtle,
Of the year of the fish,
Of the year of the earth,
Of the year of the wind,
Of the year of the fire,
Of the year of the water,
And of the year of the bush!
Like the firstborns of slaves.
The hips of romance,
The faithful witness will not lie;
The same day,
The same night,
Of the love shared at where no oxen are;
And the crib was very clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Happy Christmas
(john lennon, yoko ono)
And so this is christmas and what have you done
Another year over; a new one just begun
And so this is christmas, i hope you have fun
The near and the dear one, the old and the young
A merry merry christmas and a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear
So this is christmas, for weak and for strong
The rich and the poor one, the road is so long
So happy christmas for black and for white
The yellow and red one, and stop all the fight
A merry merry christmas and a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear
So this is christmas and what have we done
Another year over, a new one just begun
So happy christmas, i hope you have fun
The near and the dear one, the old and the young
A merry merry christmas and a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear
Intstrumental
So this is christmas and what have you done
Another year over; a new one just begun
And so happy christmas; we hope you have fun
The near and the dear one, the old and the young
A merry merry christmas and a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
When the bells all ring,
And the horns all blow,
And the couples we know
Are fondly kissing.
Will I be with you,
Or will I be among the missing?
Maybe it's much too early in the game,
Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same,
What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?
Wonder who's arms will hold you good and tight,
When it's exactly 12 o'clock that night,
New Year's, New Year's Eve.
Maybe I'm crazy to suppose,
I'd ever be the one you chose,
Out of a thousand invitations you'll receive.
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance,
Here comes the jackpot question in advance,
What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?
(Instrumental break)
Out of a thousand invitations you'll receive,
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance,
Here comes the jackpot question in advance,
What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?
What are you doing, New Year's Eve?
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What The Future Holds For Us
What the future holds for us we are not to know
But our past it goes with us to where-ever we go
Your best years in life to the forever gone
But your past in your memory it is living on
Many friends of your past you may never more see
But they do remain young in your memory
And for as long as the gift of memory you retain
Mental pictures of them with you will remain
But the present is what matter as some are known to say
And only in memory we have yesterday
And tomorrow at dawn the songbirds will sing
But who knows what tomorrow for us will bring
But we will live till we die like the sheep or the cow
And we only can live in the here and the now.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Thoughts on a memory
There is so little I can say,
and yet so much thought
has gone in today.
How the mind wanders
on the different alleys.
To retrieve a thought, a memory,
it's brought forth in vivid view,
to haunt my tormented soul..
I cling to the memory
of the almost-nothing.
Thinking it through
to create the almost-something.
As the days draw by
I think of that single memory.
I ponder on thoughts,
I know I should not have.
Yet, when the heart beats yearningly,
don't we all return to the memory?
To that single moment
when one word could make,
a whole new memory?
poem by Ranger Lady
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Come As You Are (LP Version)
Come As You Are"
Come, as you are. As you were.
As I want you to be. As a friend.
As a friend. As an old enemy. Take your time.
Hurry up. The choice is yours. Don't be late.
Take a rest. As a friend. As a old memory, memory, memory, memory.
Come. Dowsed in mud. Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be. As a trend. As a friend.
As an old memory, memory, memory, memory.
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
Memory, memory, memory, memory (don't have a gun).
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun. Memory, memory...
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Just Another New Year's Eve
Don't look so sad,
It's not so bad you know.
It's just another night,
That's all it is.
It's not the first,
It's not the worst you know,
We've come through all the rest,
We'll get through this.
We've made mistakes,
But we've made good friends too.
Remember all the nights we spent with them?
And all our plans,
Who says they can't come true?
Tonight's another chance to start again.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Another night like all the rest.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Let's make it the best.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
It's just another Auld Lang Syne,
But when we're through this New Year
You'll see, will be
Just fine.
We're not alone, we've got the world you know.
And it won't let us down, just wait and see.
And we'll grow old, but think how wise we'll grow.
There's more you know, it's only New Year's Eve.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Another night like all the rest.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Let's make it the best.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
It's just another Auld Lang Syne,
But when we're through this New Year, you'll see, will be
Just fine.
song performed by by Barry Manilow, music by Barry Manilow, lyrics by Marty Panzer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wacky Weed
Your fiction has a sickness,
And it is in deluxe.
Trimmed with a mouth piece minted,
Sweetened to touch.
Bong bong wicky sticky bong bong.
You fed on the weed.
You fed on that wacky weed.
You fed on the weed.
You fed on that wacky weed.
In a bong bong bong.
There is no truth you mention,
While you do that stuff.
Your motives are quite hidden,
And you munch too much.
You fed on the weed.
Wicky sticky bong bong
You fed on that wacky weed.
In a bong bong.
You fed on the weed.
Wicky sticky bong bong
You fed on that wacky weed.
In a bong bong bong.
Your fiction has a sickness,
And it is in deluxe.
Trimmed with a mouth piece minted,
Sweetened to touch.
Bong bong wicky sticky bong bong.
You fed on the weed.
Wicky sticky bong bong
You fed on that wacky weed.
In a bong bong.
You fed on the weed.
Wicky sticky bong bong
You fed on that wacky weed.
In a bong bong bong.
Wicky sticky bong bong.
Wick wicky sticky bong.
Wicky sticky bong bong.
Wick wicky sticky bong.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Memorial Day
Memories of those who are no longer here
are shared by millions who hold them dear.
Their faces so young that stay in the mind
of parents and wives and husbands that find
their loved ones were taken so young in their years.
Their children were left too young to cry tears,
never knowing their fathers or seeing their smile
or having them there as they walk down the aisle.
No war's ever worth their great sacrifice,
fought with their lives, they paid the great price.
And now we take time just one day a year
and pray somehow, somewhere they can hear
we miss them and honor them in memory
and hope their children's lives will turn out to be
ones that are filled with love and with peace.
So in their futures 'Memorial Days' will cease.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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