Related quotes: Thanks for the memory, For...

Thanks for the Memory

Thanks for the memory,
For a man; golden history,
Lived a life full of misery,
A true man; soul of ivory,
A riddle; unsolved irony,
A hunter, an artist, a Dad,
Truly had given me all he had,
And me? Were I that bad?
Did I really made him sad?
No, he didn't curse me in his bed,
But had forgiven his wayward lad,
A talent, a poet a musician mad,
And he'll forever remember that,
His last wish; in all that he'd said...

Thanks for the memory; I really appreciate your sympathy...And this is for history...

poem by Jimmy Zepp
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Riddle

One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
Monday morning was the first time
That I noticed something strange
Now I know with your kiss was not the same
Was it all just in my mind
Or was it something I should pay attention to
Then on tuesday having lunch with friends
I thought I saw your car
Leaving from our favorite restaurant but too far
For my eyes to see what I feel
Would be heartbreaking if I saw was true whoo
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
History
Its history
cause now I see, you lie
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
You gave me clues
I saw through
Now you lose,
You fool
Wednesday evening
Every time the phone would rang
Youd say hello
When Id come around youd say I got to go
Youre friends never called line two before
And I dont know nobody named tyrone
Oh now its thursday
You left the house to go to work an hour early
You said you had some papers for your boss to sign
But you left your briefcase home
And when I called you job
They said you were not there oh yeah
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
History
Its history
cause now I see, you lie
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
You gave me clues
I saw through
Now you lose,
You fool
Friday night
Is the night weve always had our weekend date
But you showed up at the house extremely late
Without any conversation you just went to bed
And said that youre head ached
Now its the weekend
And you know that its the day I do my cleaning
And when I washed your shirts I just could not believe
Im picking hair weave off your seam
Found a letter in your pocket from the week please
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
History
Its history
cause now I see, you lie
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
(while the chorus is singing)
You gave me clues
I saw through
Now you lose,
You fool
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go
One little riddle
Two little three little
Four little riddle
Five little six little
Seven little riddle
Eight little riddle
Now you know
You gotta go

song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Memory

Because the happiness, because the irony
Because the importance, because it is funny
Because the promise, because the faith
Memory is remembered

Whether daily, whether eventful
Whether beautiful, whether sad
Whether planned, whether accidental
Memory is made everyday

Because the time, because the nature
Because the trauma, because the secret
Because the plan, because the fear
Memory is forgotten

For the shame of dignity, for the hunger of power
In white lies, in written history
By erasing some fact, by adding impact
Memory is manipulated

By the flash of look, by the said word
By the thing, by the thought
By the shocking impact, by unconscious dream
Memory is triggered again

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ongoing Process.

Three quarters of a century.
Recorded in my memory.
Experience that made me, me.
A complete life times history.

Of all I've heard and all I've seen.
Recorded in my memory.
What I have done and where I've been.
A complete life times history.

I can look forward eagerly.
A quarter of a century.
To reaching my centenary.
Recorded automatically.

And stored within my memory.
Accessible only to me.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let The Memorial Hill Remember

Let the memorial hill remember instead of me,
that's what it's here for. Let the par in-memory-of remember,
let the street that's-named-for remember,
let the well-known building remember,
let the synagogue that's named after God remember
let the rolling Torah scroll remember, let the prayer
for the memory of the dead remember. Let the flags remember
those multicolored shrouds of history: the bodies they wrapped
have long since turned to dust. Let the dust remember.
Let the dung remember at the gate. Let the afterbirth remember.
Let the beasts of the field and birds of the heavens eat and remember.
Let all of them remember so that I can rest.

poem by Yehuda Amichai
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We Affect Forever

We are making history, through every day we spend.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark that will not end.
Others before have left behind this world we now obtain.
Though it’s changed since way back when, the old shall always remain.
History is how we got here, history is who we are.
History is what led to this, yes history is not far.
It remains within our families, its tradition and unchanging ways.
It’s Christmas day, Thanksgiving, its countless nights and days.
History is what you’re becoming; it’s what you are soon to be.
And history never dies; it’s a part of everybody.
We fight to maintain who we are, to maintain who we’ve always been.
And while we fight we know this fight is not easy to win.
Many forget the past, and many never even know,
Many people never hear of how times were long ago.
Those thousands of years before us, are more than just time spent.
They are filled with real people, real feelings, and real places that they went.
The People had different life styles very different from our ways,
But it is true that there is nothing knew under the sun’s golden rays.
Stand proud to be alive, know you affect forever.
Every act that we commit we all commit together.
We are entrusted with this earth; we must love and cherish this life.
We must remember to love our existence lest love becomes our strife.
Yes we are becoming history, through every move we make.
We are here, leaving our mark, a mark ……or perhaps a mistake.

poem by Mary Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The greatest pain

History
Storage of down-
Trodden memory
Antiquity?
Weight
Added to life's
Forward push to
See
History
The greatest plane
Fly forever
Just depart
No looking back
But to reminisce
The progression
The window
Opportunity

poem by Jeff Rushton
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MP: What would you do if you woke up one morning and you couldn't remember who you were? What life would you choose to live if you could live any life you wanted? If you could hold on to just one memory, what would that memory be?

line from History's Future, script by Fiona Tan (2016)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Mr. protection

I am the face of misery

I am the cause of sympathy

I will erase all your memories
Cause I am history

I am the history of slavery

I am the history for Germany

I am the one with no mercy

I am at the mercy of starvation
Fighting my reincarnation

I carry out my annihilation
I strike back with no hesitation

While imitating the wrath of intimidation
I plan out my assassination.

poem by Beethovens laguerre
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aaa1 you are, she is, I am She was (conversations in my head)

You are,
She is
The most beautiful memory
And you are
She is, the reason the words won’t come
You are the dream I let go
She was more than I can tell you
You are less than you believe yourself to be
She is two sides of the same story and more than she knows
You gave me just enough, just enough
She stole my respect without me realising
You had to have it your way
She knew my weakness, exploited it
You had the most perfect lips
I still see my finger tracing their arch
Your lips, your lips in bedroom shade
Let me tell you I miss her lips
You have no idea what you did to me, no idea
It still hurts, still hurts, still hurts
Your memory refuses to die, you won’t go away
She is my history, my beautiful, wonderful, painful history
That is what you are, history,
Painful history

poem by Bill Smith
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An Unfound Thought

Your thought is like sitting on a standing nail
as if my life is made all to fail
your memory is a curse in disguise
making me forget how much i am wise
your thoughts is like sitting on the edge
of a cliff that has no space for a wedge
your memory is linking my life with the hair
of the shaven heads of a gods fair
your every thought is like a rotten fruit
that lost its value and been a dude
your memory is a sweet revenge
of my vulnerable days that stand in adage
You were my soul, my sas, my special something
but now and ever you are just a bad memory and nothing...

poem by Umasree Raghunath
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A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.

quote by Grandma Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Memory

Here you are again
Back in my memory
You said you didn't love me anymore
And if the love we shared
Is just a memory, then
Why are you still here?
Haunting my memory,
Invading my soul
Since our love is gone
And my life is shattered
I guess you're just a memory.

poem by Rachelle Sowders
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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.

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Sympathize

Why I detest sympathy
It revives hurtful memories
Those days that are sad,
Let them go with my past.
Don't remind me of my misery
They are now my history
Those friends I have hurt
I am human, I was only wrong
Even Olympus knew no love
Zeus lived in sexual lust
Hera was too jealous
Prometheus should rule Olympus
Zeus should be chained
For goodness sake, let him wail
Tiresias should not be so blinded
Oedipus shouldn't have left
Lius should have abdicated
And his throne coveted,
The Sphinx shouldn't have
had a riddle
She should be a pawn in our fiddle.
These are histories
They shouldn't conflict with
our mysteries
They should be buried in
the tomb of Herodotus.
And today, I am glad we have a God
Who's world itself is love;
And we all know He's perfect in all.
In my life I had never been an epigone
But great men have inspired me
To them I will forever be grateful
And to my God, I'll be faithful.

poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A strange thing is memory, and hope one looks backward, and the other forward one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.

quote by Anna Mary Robertson Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories

A Memory is one,
One that lasts forever,
A Memory is one,
One to treasure forever,
A Memory is one,
One you create with someone special,
A Memory is one,
One that you wont forget,
A Memory of you,
You the special one,
A Thousand Memories,
Is not worth a real you,
A Real you,
Is needed to make Real Memories!
My Love is not a Memory,
My love is True.

poem by Justin John Gibson
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Back In My Life Again

You know it doesn't seem that long ago
That i had your love and let it go
And i really let you down i know
I'm losin' your love
I guess it took a while for me to see
What it is you really mean to me
I've been as big a fool as i can be
For losing your love
(*) i want you back in my life again
I don't want to be your remember when
I want you back in my life again
Let's go back to the place where it all began
I've lived long enough with your memory
Now i know that i need you here with me
There was a time i thought i had it made
But i didn't see the price i had paid
And the price gets higher ev'ry day
And all i can say is
(**) you're the only one who knows my heart
So let's take it right back to the start
And i won't have to play the part
Of losing your love
Repeat (*)
Repeat (**)
I want you back in my life again
I don't want to be your remember when
I want you back in my life again
Let's go back to the place where it all began
I've lived long enough with your memory
Now i know that i need you, know that i need you
Back in my life

song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Want You) Back In My Life Again

song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0412 Their World

It's a sepia photograph, taken, I'm guessing,
1900,1910? The whole of it is taken up by
a crowd on the move, passing the photographer,
who could be, say, clinging to a lamp-post, or on a balcony.
Going to? Leaving? Impossible to tell.
Who's rich? Who's poor? No clue.
What's it got to tell you about - life?
Why go on looking at it? No reason

except that you're human; they were human; and
today, you wish, with increasing intensity,
to connect. In some way. Somewhere at the back of
uncomfortable mind, maybe, lurks the thought that one fine day,
you'll be that anonymous one in that anonymous crowd,
forever recorded - dead on the page;
by the irony of history, photographed
when you were sure that you were alive forever...

There's one chap in the crowd looking at the camera;
as the artist, in some Renaissance adoration, and
slightly aloof from the crowd's concern,
looks out of history at you the spectator - as if to say
I'm there; I'm here; and what of you?

But he's no artist; he's looking boldly at the camera,
a cigarette between his lips at 45 degrees from the vertical -
a cheeky angle you never see today; the equivalent, I guess,
of the V-sign at the camera, as some meaningless, cocky, lively,
spontaneous act of defiance -at what?

Now you can 't put the photo down.
It's like picking at a scab or
a joyless masturbation. It threatens - you threaten -
your sense of security; whatever that might be.
Every one of that crowd lived a valid life.
You'd like to be one of them - or would you?
Why aren't you filled with a joyous sense
of identity and compassion?
A selfish greed, perhaps, to know more than you ever can?

Maybe, one day, you'll pick up that photo once again
and greet them like old friends.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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