Here is a list of Nostalgia Poems. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
IS SILENCE A SOUND??
The house is so silent, no men, no kids, no pets
Four walls to listen to the sound of my regrets
My memories they linger when I close my eyes
Those wonderful days when I was so wise
The cry of a baby, the sound of the door
The cats, the dogs, the children
Running round the floor
All of them gone now, the house is so still
I turn up the music the silence to kill
My friends and my lovers no longer around
I look at the phone it ne'er makes a sound
But all is not lost from my hopes and my dreams
I sometimes imagine some magical schemes
Of places to go to and great food to eat
Of wonderful lovers and people to meet
So silence abounds but for only a while
And if I try very hard I can muster a smile
Is silence a sound or a feeling inside?
Tell me, I'll listen, with my eyes open wide.....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Four walls to listen to the sound of my regrets
My memories they linger when I close my eyes
Those wonderful days when I was so wise
The cry of a baby, the sound of the door
The cats, the dogs, the children
Running round the floor
All of them gone now, the house is so still
I turn up the music the silence to kill
My friends and my lovers no longer around
I look at the phone it ne'er makes a sound
But all is not lost from my hopes and my dreams
I sometimes imagine some magical schemes
Of places to go to and great food to eat
Of wonderful lovers and people to meet
So silence abounds but for only a while
And if I try very hard I can muster a smile
Is silence a sound or a feeling inside?
Tell me, I'll listen, with my eyes open wide.....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2017
About this poem:
Memories, sweet memories
Unbroken.. Re-Written
Broken bones, broken hearts
Stripped down and torn apart
A little rust, I'm still runnin'
Countin' miles, countin' tears
Twisted road, shifting gears
Year after year it's all or nothing
But I'm not home, I'm not lost
Still holdin' on to what I've got
Ain't much left Lord there's so much that's been stolen
I guess I've lost everything I had
But I'm not dead at least not yet
Still alone, still alive, I'm still unbroken
Never captured, never tamed
Wild horses on the plains
You can call me lost, I call it freedom
I feel the spirit in my soul
There's something Lord, I can't control
I'm never givin' up while I'm still breathin'
Like the wind, like the rain
It's all runnin' through my veins
Like a river pourin' down into the ocean
I'm out here on the street
But I'm standin' on my feet
Still alive, still alone, still unbroken
Stripped down and torn apart
A little rust, I'm still runnin'
Countin' miles, countin' tears
Twisted road, shifting gears
Year after year it's all or nothing
But I'm not home, I'm not lost
Still holdin' on to what I've got
Ain't much left Lord there's so much that's been stolen
I guess I've lost everything I had
But I'm not dead at least not yet
Still alone, still alive, I'm still unbroken
Never captured, never tamed
Wild horses on the plains
You can call me lost, I call it freedom
I feel the spirit in my soul
There's something Lord, I can't control
I'm never givin' up while I'm still breathin'
Like the wind, like the rain
It's all runnin' through my veins
Like a river pourin' down into the ocean
I'm out here on the street
But I'm standin' on my feet
Still alive, still alone, still unbroken
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
A cowboy poet's will to survive despite rough going.
Playing my music
I started out in the late 70's with a radio and a hand held tape recorder
Then at Christmas 1982 I got a record player with tape recorder and 8-track
Then in 1999 I bought a CD player and compact discs
I bought an XBOX in 2004 and put CDs into digital form on it
Then today I successfully stored songs on my first MP3 player
It was motivated by a friend who lost their satellite radio
So tonight I will try to play it in their car and on my wireless speaker at home
I have bought many tapes, many cds
I have listened to some great music
Most of it coming out last century
Ed Sherran is the only artist of the last three years to make a song I like
Castle on the Hill
Then at Christmas 1982 I got a record player with tape recorder and 8-track
Then in 1999 I bought a CD player and compact discs
I bought an XBOX in 2004 and put CDs into digital form on it
Then today I successfully stored songs on my first MP3 player
It was motivated by a friend who lost their satellite radio
So tonight I will try to play it in their car and on my wireless speaker at home
I have bought many tapes, many cds
I have listened to some great music
Most of it coming out last century
Ed Sherran is the only artist of the last three years to make a song I like
Castle on the Hill
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2017
About this poem:
I have been putting off digital music till my friend got a car without a CD player or a tape player. The technology has been out since around 2003.
online today!Dancing The Night Away
How I wish It was Yesterday
When I would dance the night away
To music that was really cool
From the guys from Liverpool
Ringo, Paul, George and John
Who fascinated everyone
From Europe to the U.S.A.
They had a captivating sway
They played a rocking beat
That made me move my feet
From I Wanna Hold Your Hand
To Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
From Hey Jude with Na Na Na Na
To Desmond and Molly Ob La Di Ob La Da
Yes how I wish It was Yesterday
When I would dance the night away
When I would dance the night away
To music that was really cool
From the guys from Liverpool
Ringo, Paul, George and John
Who fascinated everyone
From Europe to the U.S.A.
They had a captivating sway
They played a rocking beat
That made me move my feet
From I Wanna Hold Your Hand
To Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
From Hey Jude with Na Na Na Na
To Desmond and Molly Ob La Di Ob La Da
Yes how I wish It was Yesterday
When I would dance the night away
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2013
About this poem:
As Morgen said, it seems like the "blues bug" has struck the corner lately.I thought I would brighten it up a bit with a happy "fun" poem.
Perhaps others can do the same.
Nothin' Such I Love So Much
A spring sun rises
O’er ancient hills
Painted green and yellow
Down in the hollow fills
Up over the rills
Opens buddin' leaves
Awaken singing birds
Stirring folded petals
Of sleeping tulips anew
Still dripping fresh dew
Invites me to my garden
To drink a breakfast tea
Thinking of nothin' such
I love so much
O’er ancient hills
Painted green and yellow
Down in the hollow fills
Up over the rills
Opens buddin' leaves
Awaken singing birds
Stirring folded petals
Of sleeping tulips anew
Still dripping fresh dew
Invites me to my garden
To drink a breakfast tea
Thinking of nothin' such
I love so much
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2011
About this poem:
After a long winter springtime in New England is miraculous!!Bumblebee Wine
Up here in northern Appalachia Mountains
Us country folk live life to our own tempo
every morning in spring when dew’s a’glistenin’
You can hear old timers talk their native lingo
You need pay attention to anybody be listenin’
When a buzzing by the apples blossoms in the hollow
Sends the whole town scurrying and out in a smidgin
The excitement picks up like a flight of swallows
Cause it’s time for townsfolk to head to the motion
Of many large buzzing bees to find and follow
With old canning jars position over the commotion
And capture thousands at a time in flowered meadows
And back to the kitchen to prepare a strong potion
Loaded with sweet nectar to make what nature bestows
Into that sweet and delicious…. "Bumblebee Wine"
Us country folk live life to our own tempo
every morning in spring when dew’s a’glistenin’
You can hear old timers talk their native lingo
You need pay attention to anybody be listenin’
When a buzzing by the apples blossoms in the hollow
Sends the whole town scurrying and out in a smidgin
The excitement picks up like a flight of swallows
Cause it’s time for townsfolk to head to the motion
Of many large buzzing bees to find and follow
With old canning jars position over the commotion
And capture thousands at a time in flowered meadows
And back to the kitchen to prepare a strong potion
Loaded with sweet nectar to make what nature bestows
Into that sweet and delicious…. "Bumblebee Wine"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2011
About this poem:
From a very old, old tale from Vermont Hill Country
Alauna-Alaunos
Alauna-Alaunos
© D Heckels
Let me tell you a tale of harrowing times
For the farmers of Alnwick life wasn’t so kind
So the duke of the county extended his hand
And cut down their rents to help manage their land
So they built a great column their gratitude showed
But the Duke was not happy for the honour bestowed
For where all the money had come from at last
So he raised up the rents to what they’d been in the past
So all of thee from the south come gather around
Gaze up to the column which now can be found
Which moral for you doest speak out so loud
For me it’s the farmers for whom I'm so proud
Now there’s a tale about some bottles at the Old Cross Inn
That may make you laugh or smile with a grin
The keeper he cursed them on the day that he died
Touch them now at ur peril his widow she cried
Now I tell u the truth and this is no lie
Touch them now and be cursed, will be thee, and will die
Tis for two centuries that they have so stood
The bottles in the window left dirty for good
So all of thee who have doubt come gather around
Be welcomed the chance 0f being felled to the ground
And if that you do we will laugh out so loud
Tis the folly’s of Alnwick that we are so proud.
© D Heckels
Let me tell you a tale of harrowing times
For the farmers of Alnwick life wasn’t so kind
So the duke of the county extended his hand
And cut down their rents to help manage their land
So they built a great column their gratitude showed
But the Duke was not happy for the honour bestowed
For where all the money had come from at last
So he raised up the rents to what they’d been in the past
So all of thee from the south come gather around
Gaze up to the column which now can be found
Which moral for you doest speak out so loud
For me it’s the farmers for whom I'm so proud
Now there’s a tale about some bottles at the Old Cross Inn
That may make you laugh or smile with a grin
The keeper he cursed them on the day that he died
Touch them now at ur peril his widow she cried
Now I tell u the truth and this is no lie
Touch them now and be cursed, will be thee, and will die
Tis for two centuries that they have so stood
The bottles in the window left dirty for good
So all of thee who have doubt come gather around
Be welcomed the chance 0f being felled to the ground
And if that you do we will laugh out so loud
Tis the folly’s of Alnwick that we are so proud.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
FootnoteTHE FARMER'S FOLLY
One of the most imposing reminders of the Percy family in Alnwick is an eighty three feet high Percy Tenantry Column which is known locally as the Farmers Folly. The column designed by the Newcastle architect David Stephenson was constructed in 1816 and lies close to the southern end of the street called Bondgate-Without. It is one of the first sights to greet the visitor to Alnwick from the south.
Legend is that the second Duke of Northumberland (a Percy) lowered the rents of his agricultural tenants by twenty-five per cent to help them through the period of agricultural depression which followed the Napoleonic Wars.
It is said that the tenants were so grateful to the Duke that they erected the great column in his honour - topped of course by a stone statue of the famous Percy Lion which had been the emblem of the Percy family for centuries.
But the story is that the Duke, far from showing gratitude for the monument to his honour was more interested in the fact that his tenants had been able to raise the money for the monument. His reaction was to raise their rents once again - the story is however only a legend.
Jamie Allan
Jamie Allan
© D Heckels
Play your pipes Jamie Allen
hey em dancin ti ya tune
wi gypsy wine tha fallin roond
play your pipes Jamie Allen like ya dad
Take Geordies shilling Jamie Allen
sign on here ti de some killing
or run like hell if you're not willing
will you be red and or yellow Jamie Lad?
Run on wild Jamie Allen
run em ragged take their hand
take their bodies take their land
run on wild, run em ragged, run em mad
Ride on by Jamie Allen
on that Gatesheed steed ya hasting
up ti jethart they wo chasing
ride on looking for the dreams you niva had
Rest in peace Jamie Allen
give it up doon there in Durham
and you'll be sure to git ya pardon
but play your pipes play forever Jamie lad
© D Heckels
Play your pipes Jamie Allen
hey em dancin ti ya tune
wi gypsy wine tha fallin roond
play your pipes Jamie Allen like ya dad
Take Geordies shilling Jamie Allen
sign on here ti de some killing
or run like hell if you're not willing
will you be red and or yellow Jamie Lad?
Run on wild Jamie Allen
run em ragged take their hand
take their bodies take their land
run on wild, run em ragged, run em mad
Ride on by Jamie Allen
on that Gatesheed steed ya hasting
up ti jethart they wo chasing
ride on looking for the dreams you niva had
Rest in peace Jamie Allen
give it up doon there in Durham
and you'll be sure to git ya pardon
but play your pipes play forever Jamie lad
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
FootnoteJamie Allan - famed piper, gypsy, serial army enlister and deserter, horse thief, and jailbird.
(Jamie Allan was a Northumbrian piper, a border gypsy, born 1734 in Rothbury and who died in the Durham Lock Up in 1810 where he was serving a life sentence for stealing a horse from Gateshead seven years earlier. During his lifetime he became a legendary rogue, but one of immense talent as a musician, often patronised by the aristocracy who, however, became wary of him when his wayward behavior began to match their own. As he grew older his attraction to them diminished and his struggle to survive intensified along with the other gypsies who were regarded as rogues and scum and treated as such. He retained a few loyal supporters, mostly on the North side of the Tyne, who tried to get him released, but they failed and he died confined miserable in Durham.
For some he represents the spirit of the borders and he retains the affection and admiration of most musicians carrying on the tradition. This song is written as a celebration and salute to Jamie Allan, warts an’ all.)
12 - danube 3135
*
******
*
the being :: is just, a mysterious game
****
moments of life :: are disappearing, tantivy
****
years of being :: galloping, & passing by us
****
eyes stare :: astonishingly, how time passing
****
everyone :: walking, towards, the end
****
we all :: are, just a handful, soundless, losers
****
what we lose :: through this short path of life -
**
((((((( it is the life, itself ))))))
******
*
the being :: is just, a mysterious game
****
moments of life :: are disappearing, tantivy
****
years of being :: galloping, & passing by us
****
eyes stare :: astonishingly, how time passing
****
everyone :: walking, towards, the end
****
we all :: are, just a handful, soundless, losers
****
what we lose :: through this short path of life -
**
((((((( it is the life, itself ))))))
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2017
About this poem:
reality 2285 - danube 3135
****
once, upon a time, in the past -
book of memory -
were white and colorless .
-
but the years passed, and disappeared, tantivy .
-
pages of memory book -
one by one, were filled, by bitter & sweet events .
-
but today -
the sweetest moments, being created, by reading, the words of the memory -book
-
memories, getting old -
but the beauty of old memories, colouring mysteriously, our present days .
*******
once, upon a time, in the past -
book of memory -
were white and colorless .
-
but the years passed, and disappeared, tantivy .
-
pages of memory book -
one by one, were filled, by bitter & sweet events .
-
but today -
the sweetest moments, being created, by reading, the words of the memory -book
-
memories, getting old -
but the beauty of old memories, colouring mysteriously, our present days .
*******
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2017
About this poem:
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