Making Memory A Blessing
MAKING MEMORY A BLESSING
Making memory a blessing,
is hard, since it more often is a curse,
the dissonance and dispossessing
of the past, which when put into verse
is seen in its full beauty and
reminds us painfully that paradise
is lost, which, we must understand,
we can't by means of poetry reprise.
Some find great pleasure being sad
in its surroundings, but I'd rather dwell
in a future not yet bad,
although I fear it may become a hell.
Inspired by a poem by Dana Gioia:
THE LOST GARDEN
If ever we see those gardens again,
The summer will be gone-at least our summer.
Some other mockingbird will concertize
Among the mulberries, and other vines
will clib the high brick wall to disappear.
How many footpaths crossed the old estate-
The gracious acreage of a grander age-
So many trees to kiss or argue under,
And greenery enough for any mood.
What pleasure to be sad in such surroundings.
At least in retrospect. For even sorrow
Seems bearable when studied at a distance,
And if we speak of private suffering,
The pain becomes part of a well turned tale
Describing someone else who shares our name.
Still thinking of you, I sometimes play a game.
What if we had walked a different path one day.
Would some small incident have nudged us elsewhere
The way a pebble tossed into a brook
Might change the course a hundred miles downstream?
The trick is making memory a blessing,
To learn by loss the cool subtraction of desire,
Of wanting nothing more than what has been,
To know the past forever lost, yet seeing
Behind the wall a garden still in blossom.
5/6/12 #10,092
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Related quotes
The Lost Garden
If ever we see those gardens again,
The summer will be gone—at least our summer.
Some other mockingbird will concertize
Among the mulberries, and other vines
Will climb the high brick wall to disappear.
How many footpaths crossed the old estate—
The gracious acreage of a grander age—
So many trees to kiss or argue under,
And greenery enough for any mood.
What pleasure to be sad in such surroundings.
At least in retrospect. For even sorrow
Seems bearable when studied at a distance,
And if we speak of private suffering,
The pain becomes part of a well-turned tale
Describing someone else who shares our name.
Still, thinking of you, I sometimes play a game.
What if we had walked a different path one day,
Would some small incident have nudged us elsewhere
The way a pebble tossed into a brook
Might change the course a hundred miles downstream?
The trick is making memory a blessing,
To learn by loss the cool subtraction of desire,
Of wanting nothing more than what has been,
To know the past forever lost, yet seeing
Behind the wall a garden still in blossom.
poem by Dana Gioia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memory and Oblivion
When all is lost, there is still a memory
From which a new city can be built in a new world.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
Oblivion cures the old wounds, and you must agree,
There is only the past and the future on the path;
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Memory will save oblivion from a bad reverie;
When the new city is built, it will be an abode,
Bestowed by those with memory to make others wealthy.
Before the temple, in the middle of the city,
Keepers of the fire all abided.
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Fire will be born from night to be
New light when all knowledge is swallowed
And those with memory will be wealthy.
A new rose will bloom from the dark sea,
A city revived from memory and abroad;
When all is but a memory, there is still memory.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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In The Making Of 'memory
dear friends,
how's your life?
it's been a while since I heard you laughed,
I, sometimes, dream of us so clearly,
in this making of 'memory'
our past days surely are beautiful,
the things keep our memory books so full.
the things we left unchanged are so many,
in this making of 'memory'
dear friends,
where have you been?
our day, our time,
do you still have that memory?
we live our lives now, differently.
we are, but for the making of another 'memory'
poem by Kite Remedy
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Once I Was
Once
you clapped
for me.
Now
you clap
for another.
Once
I was
your luck.
Now
your luck
is gone.
Now
your luck
is lost.
Once
I was your
Blessing.
Now
your blessing
is gone.
Now
your blessing
is lost.
Once
a blessing
in disguise.
Now
a blessing
denied.
Soon
your blessing
is leaving.
Soon
a blessing
in departure.
Soon
a blessing
no more.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lets Make A Memory
Orbison/melson
Come a little closer
Dont you tell me no sir
Lets make a memory
Come on now
Come on and give me your kiss now
What are you gonna miss now
Lets make a memory, a memory
Lets make a memory
Make a memory
Yes lets make a memory together
One that will last and last forever
Sweet baby
Baby hold me tight then
Squeeze with all your might then
Lets make a memory
Come on now
Just have a little fun for
What do you think were young for?
Lets make a memory
Make a memory
Yes lets make a memory together
One that will last and last forever
Come on now
Let yourself let go now
Dont let love grow cold now
Lets make a memory
Sweet baby
Forget about the past now
Weve got a love thatll last for
Now and forever we will be
Making memories....
Making memories
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pleasure Dome
Now I know none of this was planned, it all just kinda happened
I got more than I wanted, but how is still a mystery
Obsessed with this feeling, I trusted it, so I followed it
Im tripping and stumbling across the land, full of miracles
Into a world so far from home, miles and miles from nowhere
Rooms without doors open for me, oh no
Taking me miles and miles from nowhere
Oh (miles and miles), oh yeah
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost in my own pleasure dome
Oh man, I aint got a clue, how you get out, or how to find this place
I want my control back, but Im afraid, Ill lose that feeling
Lost in a world so far from home, Im miles and miles from nowhere
Falling inside my own pleasure dome, Im miles and miles from nowhere
Oh (miles and miles), oh yeah
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost inside my pleasure dome
(solo)
Lost in a world, cant find my way home, miles and miles from nowhere
Falling inside my own pleasure dome, miles and miles from nowhere
Millions of miles, oh no, miles and miles and miles from nowhere
Miles and miles and miles and miles, oh
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost inside my pleasure dome, yeah
Lost, lost
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Past Is An Old Man's Poem
The Past is an old man’s poem
And all he was
And all he can never be again
And all the people he loved
No longer here-
And all the times he can barely remember
And never forget
And all the love lost
And all the waste
And all the sadness
And all the joy and the still strong happiness-
The Past is an old man’s poem
Written in his memory
And waiting to be said again and again
While he lives through another day and another night and another memory lost
The past is an old man ‘s poem
And that poem too will be gone before long.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pleasure Dome / Drum Solo
Now I know none of this was planned, it all just kinda happened
I got more than I wanted, but how is still a mystery
Obsessed with this feeling, I trusted it, so I followed it
I'm tripping and stumbling across the land, full of miracles
Into a world so far from home, miles and miles from nowhere
Rooms without doors open for me, oh no
Taking me miles and miles from nowhere
Oh (miles and miles), oh yeah
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost in my own pleasure dome
Oh man, I ain't got a clue, how you get out, or how to find this place
I want my control back, but I'm afraid, I'll lose that feeling
Lost in a world so far from home, I'm miles and miles from nowhere
Falling inside my own pleasure dome, I'm miles and miles from nowhere
Oh (miles and miles), oh yeah
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost inside my pleasure dome
(Solo)
Lost in a world, can't find my way home, miles and miles from nowhere
Falling inside my own pleasure dome, miles and miles from nowhere
Millions of miles, oh no, miles and miles and miles from nowhere
Miles and miles and miles and miles, oh
Lost in this pleasure dome, lost inside my pleasure dome, yeah
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emigre in Autumn
Walking down the garden path
From the house you do not own,
Once again you think of how
Cool the autumns were at home.
Dressed as if you had just left
The courtyard of the summer palace,
Walk the boundaries of the park,
Count the steps you take each day -
Miles that span no distances,
Journeys in sunlight toward the dark.
Sit and watch the daylight play
Idly on the tops of leaves
Glistening overhead in autumn's
Absolute dominion.
Nothing lost by you excels
These empires of sunlight.
But even here the subtle breeze
Plots with underlying shadows.
One gust of wind and suddenly
The sun is falling from the trees.
poem by Dana Gioia
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Memory Of Me As A Poet,
memory of me as a poet,
My doleful soul need's the great memory of me as a poet,
The pure memory taught me of the spontaneous event's of life,
How creation gave me authority to reveal such a strong poetic verse,
I recited the poem in my mind only to realise the great motor memory,
But pure memory revealed all my past writing,
I can relive my past only by the memory of the great history,
Global memory took my mind to think of the great poet.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Thoughts
What are we now?
What will we become?
Nothing but a distant memory
of yet another year that has
passed?
A painful little echo of what
should've been?
A pleasant memory that reminds
us that life goes on?
An appreciated memory that
brings back feelings of love or
hope,
when they're needed the most?
Just another high school fling
that taught you how to love?
Or yet another memory that
ends in pain, teaching you to
hate?
Just a figment of your past?
Or part of a future yet to
come?
poem by Kailia Chatterton
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The Inventory Of Goodbye
I have a pack of letters,
I have a pack of memories.
I could cut out the eyes of both.
I could wear them like a patchwork apron.
I could stick them in the washer, the drier,
and maybe some of the pain would float off like dirt?
Perhaps down the disposal I could grind up the loss.
Besides - what a bargain - no expensive phone calls.
No lengthy trips on planes in the fog.
No manicky laughter or blessing from an odd-lot priest.
That priest is probably still floating on a fog pillow.
Blessing us. Blessing us.
Am I to bless the lost you,
sitting here with my clumsy soul?
Propaganda time is over.
I sit here on the spike of truth.
No one to hate except the slim fish of memory
that slides in and out of my brain.
No one to hate except the acute feel of my nightgown
brushing my body like a light that has gone out.
It recalls the kiss we invented, tongues like poems,
meeting, returning, inviting, causing a fever of need.
Laughter, maps, cassettes, touch singing its path -
all to be broken and laid away in a tight strongbox.
The monotonous dead clog me up and there is only
black done in black that oozes from the strongbox.
I must disembowel it and then set the heart, the legs,
of two who were one upon a large woodpile
and ignite, as I was once ignited, and let it whirl
into flame, reaching the sky
making it dangerous with its red.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Summer Days of Yesteryear
We often live surveying the past
as a summer season comes around,
and selecting the days of living freely
in our memory will be found.
We scrutinize the events of other Summers
experiencing great pleasure and delight
that once we knew when we were just
youngsters when life seemed to be all right.
Through the fading days of yesteryear
we filled our life with many dreams.
From childhood days to adulthood days
it was just a natural step it seems.
We miss the thrills that once was ours
the days we felt were always free.
We live it over each Summer time
and always remains a pleasant memory.
Too swiftly is the flight of time,
Though plentiful be the exuberant ways
that lead us down memory lane
to the scenes of other Summer days.
Though another Summer season shall end,
One wish for all of you we hold
May Summer always bring an abundance
of joy and memories a hundred fold.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Shadow of My Memory
Gust of stale wind breeze
whispers,
the memory,
the memory,
the memory,
much feeling
but seems without feelings at all,
candles have heart to,
hesitant to part.
much feeling but its
just as if there's none,
I think of the past
but i can't smile,
candles have heart too
it loathes parting.
Today will be a memory,
yesterday was a memory
drifting away, but
count not the time,
rather the moments.
our past days are beautiful
the things we kept
in our memory cache full.
the things we left are so many
fear of moving on,
fear of change,
wails of grief sucked
up excavated nose
soul wailing to the
top of the lungs.
in a minute this will
be just a memory
memories are
all pain in vain
but those are but memories
that dwindles each
day passes by,
as those slowly vanished,
I huddle in my room and cry,
memories are like dreams,
a reflection of the past.
poem by Cyrus Diaz
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Sino Sunrise
here i trespass eight minutes from the sun stranger to paradise traveler lost over field over wall and into mind open windows i will find i learn to move i move to learn i move to learn i travel much too far to circle back to where i start somewhere suns rise somewhere suns set in a picture i capture me alive surrogate memory to have when i die i am the echo of footsteps in the garden
song performed by by Quitter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memory (Old Piece)
I'm a figment of thought
I'm a fantasy
I'm lost in the past
I'm a memory
I'll run away
And you'll forget
Ignore the past
As lost regret
You said you'd always
Remember me
But now I'm just
A memory
You called me a friend
Yet I mean nothing to you
You lied to me
And broke your truce
For I can't say
I'm a memory
For you no longer
Remember me
poem by Ryan Joseph Holder
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Rosie Had Everything Planned
Acting upon information received
Rosie had everything planned
Stood in a garden with a shotgun in hand
What a woman
Whilst entertaining the headlines next day
Rosie would not be released
If it was found that her man was deceased
Silly woman
Oh but Rosie, a girl with a strange kind of humor
Stupidly took it a roomer
Making her think that she'd lost
Double-crossed by a man who still
Stood in the garden and shaking her head
Rosie could not understand
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand
Sad, sad woman
Oh but Rosie, how could a few words have made her
Certain that he had betrayed her
Making her think that she'd lost
Double-crossed by a man who still very near to her
Row upon row of angel-hair
Rosie had everything planned
Sure that the people would not understand
Sad, sad woman
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone
Everything of the past is a memory gone
Remembering my past will only be a sign of weakness
Now life is so cruel, that the past has left no meaning
I am very alone and that is how I have to live my future life.
Anything which reminds me of my past, is to be stayed away from
That is the best and the only way to survive.
If I said I still do love you
Then it would be a big lie now
Since, now the love which I had for you has actually turned into hate
Earlier I loved you a lot and very truly
Now I do not love you
As a matter of fact, the hate is so much that the pain of the past is like a volcano
Which will just blast, if I ever again came close to you
Stay away my past, you are my memory, which is gone.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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Sense Of Propriety
If we walk with good atonement
for everything we do,
we need on apologise
for anything we have done.
We can walk with our head held high
distributing the gift of love
to everyone we meet,
making them feel
the pleasure within their lives.
They then can share the blessing
as they go on their way.
As we ourselves have passed our gift
to them and others
who have crossed our path today.
21 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Blessing In Disguise
Are you lonely?
Are you Crying?
Are those teardrops in your eyes
is it more blues, is is bad news,
is it a curse?, or a blessing in disguise.
Did you leave him?, do you love him?
Have you said your, said your last goodbyes
Is it over, hey
are you sorry?
Could it be a blessing in disguise
It's the scars that make you stronger
It's the hard times that make you rise,
It's the sweet things that only time bring, yeah
Gonna ride back a blessing in disguise
Ooooooooohhhhh!
Clouds roll by, and bring the rain
tears wiped dry to ease the pain
oh!
Are you lonely?
Are you Crying?
Are those teardrops in your eyes
is it more blues, is is bad news,
is it a curse?, or a blessing in disguise.
Is it a curse or a blessing in disguise
Is it a curse or a blessing in disguise
Is it a curse or a blessing in disguise
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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