Newest Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

you speak to me in certain circumference of

yet not knowing ever the distance

not to even ask the real grated

upon the beauty
of link

to
wave my hand
i understood

leave not a woe
sit
like me
gush the feel, it was a time

a miss is strength upon the wave
foremost

stranger
coming in with the tide

Sumer noon
In my home in Malabar
In this dusty winding roads
Piercing the heart of the village
Wind across the mountain
Blowing hot and red
Swaying arc nut palms
And coconut trees
Like the dance of goads
Carrying the fragrance of
Dried hay and parched earth
Sway across cashew groves
Kids under a Mango tree
Wanting mangos rain
Resting after a days swim
In the village pond
Sun shines high on
Empty paddy fields
Turing them Golden fields
Once swollen might river
Now a string of water patches
Glowing like drops of pearls
In the scotching sun
Women with shining eyes
With their giggling bangles
Washing cloths and carrying pots
Men in pristine white
Rest under the banyan tree
Watching the “theyyams” passing by
With drummers tranquilizes their
Worries of the life.
Soccer players and cricket games
For the evening to go
Somewhere a horn bill cry
With a call from mosque
And a chant from a kovil
Breeze kisses my face
As sky turn crimson
A summer noon in
Malabar village Passes by
vanishing in the lingering twilight

that shady peace within that we did wander as frail mortals be
among the wise non seeing eyes that smiled at our tranquillity.

steep green assent of rustling leaves, speckled sunlight through the trees, children at play, a far off view, memories and thoughts anew.

a span of time wisdom unfolds a twist of fate mine might now hold to kiss the dew on halloed ground such gentle capture found.
George.w.dye 1979

The Quotes Garden
Part I – Beginning


Here it is!..
My famous place,
From all the gardens I created, along time...



There’re plates, behind each alley I would miss..
In case my dreams, one day, before I die,
Will tear apart...
Only shadows, left behind, instead my friends -
Who twisted senses of my heart,
In moments of despair ...



There must be thorns of roses,
Embracing death – and clear sun,
And life, with petals, in the faded falling;
They came along
with piece of graved stone, behind my tomb,
And Heaven standing like a fortress,
- only witness to my once upon a time, a lair..



I rather die alike an artist! -
Surrounded by thee ART, which makes me feel alive
And
every breath I take, is sweeping verses,
with death from life – which dwells fresh air,

Which fills my lungs with my despair
And
each morning – is a mourning full of joy...



I open the eyes of my restless soul,
But then, alike a shadow,
I vanish, in the mist -
Forgotten by the human heart, within the second I should die,
Along with every sufferance – divine feast!..

I’ve taken a joy away, in the darken past,
And
I saw my death, in the chair...



I’m waiting clouds to come,
more faster than in rhymes, my twisted verses,
Like Heaven’s waterfall,
- from where it rises in my dreams,
My golden harp, under rainbow -
Reminding me.. once more...
That ..
Was upon a time...
An artist…



Should I now talk in riddles,
So I may hide my desire of freedom,
Freedom of a locked soul,
Inside a cruel world? !
Or, must be there my sins,
Alike some darken secrets,
Drying each part of me,
Until one day..
I am no more? !



Or better..talk in quotes,
Repeating senses of the many artists
Which found a refuge inside art?
But there’s no place to hide..
Those green.. emotions..
And neither enough words
As for defining, truly,
What is ART!..



I ask myself sometimes
If ART is pain into advanced scenes of battle
- of oneself -
Or if it’s merely like a longing for a Heaven -
Which for example, I haven’t found It in myself;

Or maybe just like other artists,
As much desire have for death,
As even Death, doesn’t need me anymore,
Alike the muses, think that charming me
With lovely whispers,
Will lead me soon to touch
With thirsty lips,
Their divine breasts...


But nor declared love, nor written words of love in vain
Shall not be mentioned, along my paths to glory, over death,
But only truth, would be alike my oath, - in verse, my breathe
To be.. alike I am... to never change... to be the same...

©Th3Mirr0r

HE APRENDIDO

A amar mí libertad
A sentir el viento
A apreciar el mar

A ver la gente y saberle llevar
A ver mis posibilidades y saberlas captar
A ver mis metas y lograrlas alcanzar

A no herir a nadie pero es difícil hacerlo
De verdad

A caminar sobre la hierba y sentir su suavidad
A ser integro con principios y valores
Esa es mi propuesta mundial

A decir la verdad sin llegar a lastimar
A reaccionar con las injusticias
A sentir de verdad
A ver las cosas con discernidad
A apreciarte así sea en la distancia
Y mi vida transformar

A oler las flores y sentir su aroma natural
A tener los pies sobre la tierra pero sin dejar
De soñar

A dirigir caminos con reciprocidad
A tener lo mejor de mi y darlo en comunidad
A pensar en grande y actuar con equidad..

I HAVE LEARNED

To love my freedom
To feel the wind
To appreciate the sea

To see the people and bring saberle
See my chances and knowing grasp
See my goals and achieve reach

A not hurt anyone but difficult to
For real

A walk on the grass and feel the softness
To be integrated with principles and values
That's my world proposal

To tell the truth without hurting
A react with injustice
To feel really
To see things discernidad
A appreciating and is in the distance
And my life transform

A smell the flowers and feel the natural aroma
To keep our feet on the ground but still
dreaming

A direct path reciprocate
To have the best of me and give community
Think big and act with fairness ..

A Memory

My childhood back yard
With weta's in the hedge

"Self Pity"


How much can we bare?

How much turmoil and stress
heartbreak and duress,
Can our minds and bodies tolerate
before our insides explode?

How much can we endure
before we lose our mind?

Would it not be nice if we could alleviate
all those negative thoughts of kind?

To think only good thoughts.
To banish the negative.

To be thankful for the good
and not dwell on the bad.

Woe is me~
What an awful person I must be

To wallow in this self pity
of my own making!

I am always alone looking in from the outside
Do not really belong to this world that’s around
I belong to the times and the lives of my past
My bones are buried in so many graves
I walked throughout history and the times of yore
The savagery of men was a sight to behold
Lived the life of a master and the life of his slave
Lived only for violence and the thrill of the chase
…and now I do wonder from time to time
what is for me to do in this life ?
So I’m just waiting at the gates of dawn
for kingdom without borders and city’s of ashes to come.

I was born with a ticket to yesterday
Tomorrow came along and life sailed away
Who created such a work of art
The treasure was mine and then we had to part

Then the shoes I walked in were made for me
The eyes I looked through could really see
Can't get it back no matter how much I pray
What happened to my ticket to yesterday

How fast I was walking just to go sit in a chair
Could you explain it to me if you were there
Tomorrow came along and life sailed away
Lord knows I was born with a ticket to yesterday