Here is a list of Nostalgia Poems ordered by Most Commented, posted by members. 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.
Prohibition
Verse I
Recalling prohibition days,
When he was just a kid.
Mom said, "Hide! There's bullets flyin!"
So that's just what they did.
The war waged on for three long days,
Fought o'er a moonshine still.
Gunshots heard through window screens,
As they hid neath the sill.
Chorus
It was the roaring twenties and,
The Tommy guns did roar.
The blood flowed with the whiskey as,
The Reaper kept the score.
Though long ago, the legend still,
Lives on forevermore,
Of the great St. Louis massacre,
Of nineteen twenty-four.
Verse II
When finally all the shooting stopped,
The kids just had a ball,
Through blood-stained streets they ran to dig.
The bullets from the wall.
No way of telling now or then,
How many fought and died.
Neath grandstands of the greyhound track,
The bodies they did hide.
Verse III
This tale is true, as told to me,
My father was that lad.
His childhood had this one bright spot,
Though much of it was sad.
Seems strange to think a shooting spree,
Could somehow bring such joy.
Excitement coursed right through the veins,
Of that scared little boy.
Recalling prohibition days,
When he was just a kid.
Mom said, "Hide! There's bullets flyin!"
So that's just what they did.
The war waged on for three long days,
Fought o'er a moonshine still.
Gunshots heard through window screens,
As they hid neath the sill.
Chorus
It was the roaring twenties and,
The Tommy guns did roar.
The blood flowed with the whiskey as,
The Reaper kept the score.
Though long ago, the legend still,
Lives on forevermore,
Of the great St. Louis massacre,
Of nineteen twenty-four.
Verse II
When finally all the shooting stopped,
The kids just had a ball,
Through blood-stained streets they ran to dig.
The bullets from the wall.
No way of telling now or then,
How many fought and died.
Neath grandstands of the greyhound track,
The bodies they did hide.
Verse III
This tale is true, as told to me,
My father was that lad.
His childhood had this one bright spot,
Though much of it was sad.
Seems strange to think a shooting spree,
Could somehow bring such joy.
Excitement coursed right through the veins,
Of that scared little boy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
Don't really know what year it was, but it could have been 1924, and it rhymed... :DTrain Journey
The train left the station
to England the south west
the scenery and journey
must rank amongst the best
through devon into cornwall
she sped along that day
journey that would through
dawlish and its bay
the red cliff clay
exposed to view
neath the grass on top
it was the very
kind of place
one would just
love to stop
but the engine
in rythymic sounds
the rails upon the track
and all i ever saw
of dawlish bay
was when i did look back
the train rolled on past
the deep blue sea
beside the longer shore
tunnels welcomed
us as well
as if not be undone
and when we had entered
we lost that smiling sun
soon out we sped along
this paradise by the sea
glimpses of yesterday today
as i watched it on dvd
bringing back the memories
of a 1960s teen
travelling the south west
to dawlish and a dream.
to England the south west
the scenery and journey
must rank amongst the best
through devon into cornwall
she sped along that day
journey that would through
dawlish and its bay
the red cliff clay
exposed to view
neath the grass on top
it was the very
kind of place
one would just
love to stop
but the engine
in rythymic sounds
the rails upon the track
and all i ever saw
of dawlish bay
was when i did look back
the train rolled on past
the deep blue sea
beside the longer shore
tunnels welcomed
us as well
as if not be undone
and when we had entered
we lost that smiling sun
soon out we sped along
this paradise by the sea
glimpses of yesterday today
as i watched it on dvd
bringing back the memories
of a 1960s teen
travelling the south west
to dawlish and a dream.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
Post Comment
Time
Isn't it funny what becomes important
when you're running out of time,
Had your money all spent and accounted for right down to your last dime..
You had it all or so you thought,right there in the palm of your hand..
But what you didn't prepare for.,
were those last few grains of sand..
Because basically what it comes down to is that we have no control..
fate is predetermined... as we reap what we sow...
You could have been all you wanted.. maybe bought all that you wanted..
But the one thing you found out you couldn't buy...
Was Time .
Good-bye is so inevitable...and most people are so forgettable..
Or so life will lead us to believe...
And if everything is predetermined... then what
Is there left for us to believe..
But don't just let this time go by.. without giving it one more try..
Because as long as you live and breathe....
as long as you're still able to
Show them in every way, just how much they mean...to you..
And no don't ever take it for granted....
And don't ever let one single second pass you by
Make up for all that you have lost, now while you are able..
Now is the time to bring it all to the table..
Because if anything is certain in this life...
It's not time..
Time waits for no one.
No not time.
when you're running out of time,
Had your money all spent and accounted for right down to your last dime..
You had it all or so you thought,right there in the palm of your hand..
But what you didn't prepare for.,
were those last few grains of sand..
Because basically what it comes down to is that we have no control..
fate is predetermined... as we reap what we sow...
You could have been all you wanted.. maybe bought all that you wanted..
But the one thing you found out you couldn't buy...
Was Time .
Good-bye is so inevitable...and most people are so forgettable..
Or so life will lead us to believe...
And if everything is predetermined... then what
Is there left for us to believe..
But don't just let this time go by.. without giving it one more try..
Because as long as you live and breathe....
as long as you're still able to
Show them in every way, just how much they mean...to you..
And no don't ever take it for granted....
And don't ever let one single second pass you by
Make up for all that you have lost, now while you are able..
Now is the time to bring it all to the table..
Because if anything is certain in this life...
It's not time..
Time waits for no one.
No not time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2010
Post Comment
The Final Act Epilogue
I'm Tony's grandson,
I was about twenty five when
He told me his life in Vaudeville,
And his appearance on Milton Berle's
Show.
He passed away quietly two weeks ago.
I found him laying next to his cane,
A picture of my grandmother was clenched
In his hand.
It was taken when she was a show
Girl in London.
He had built a small mantle for
The broken piece of crystal.
After calling the ambulance, I
Took the piece of crystal and
Brought to my mother.
She understood as soon as she saw it.
She called George. He called Mary.
Gracie died in 1964.
Granddad and Grandmother,
Along with Benny's, grieved with
George over his loss.
Jack died in 1974, Mary could not stop
Thanking Geogre and my grandfather for
Their support.
My grandmother passed away in 1966.
George, Mary and Jack, all grieved for
My granddad's loss.
George, still grieved for Gracie,
As he did until he passed away at
The age of a hundred, almost forty
Years later.
Mary, which my mother, myself along
With George, understood, could not bear
Seeing another old friend pass.
She sent her respects and utmost love.
George and I sat in a corner away
From all the mourners, that gathered
At my mother's house after the funeral.
He did greet Berle, though.
Later, when we alone again,
George talked of Gracie.
A tear welled in his eye.
I thought I saw the same on
My grandfathers face.
I was about twenty five when
He told me his life in Vaudeville,
And his appearance on Milton Berle's
Show.
He passed away quietly two weeks ago.
I found him laying next to his cane,
A picture of my grandmother was clenched
In his hand.
It was taken when she was a show
Girl in London.
He had built a small mantle for
The broken piece of crystal.
After calling the ambulance, I
Took the piece of crystal and
Brought to my mother.
She understood as soon as she saw it.
She called George. He called Mary.
Gracie died in 1964.
Granddad and Grandmother,
Along with Benny's, grieved with
George over his loss.
Jack died in 1974, Mary could not stop
Thanking Geogre and my grandfather for
Their support.
My grandmother passed away in 1966.
George, Mary and Jack, all grieved for
My granddad's loss.
George, still grieved for Gracie,
As he did until he passed away at
The age of a hundred, almost forty
Years later.
Mary, which my mother, myself along
With George, understood, could not bear
Seeing another old friend pass.
She sent her respects and utmost love.
George and I sat in a corner away
From all the mourners, that gathered
At my mother's house after the funeral.
He did greet Berle, though.
Later, when we alone again,
George talked of Gracie.
A tear welled in his eye.
I thought I saw the same on
My grandfathers face.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
Burns and Allen, Mary Livingston and Jack Benny were real people. Their love for each other was real to. Both couples remained married until death parted them.The characters of Lily and Tony were total fiction.
Dave
The Dancer
He crossed the stage in three strong leaps.
His legs looked like the trunks of trees.
His jumps so high were almost flight.
As in his prime he danced that night.
His prima partner did not show,
But that was fine with me, you know.
For in her place another flew,
The lovely little ingenue.
He threw her in the air so high,
She really seemed at times to fly.
A fairy princess in our world,
As effortless he caught the girl.
Around and round they whirled and spun,
And won the hearts of ev'ryone.
A magic moment trapped in time,
This memory of dance sublime.
I am so glad I went to see,
This performance and to be,
Awed by such a wonderous sight,
Of Rudolf Nureyev that night.
His legs looked like the trunks of trees.
His jumps so high were almost flight.
As in his prime he danced that night.
His prima partner did not show,
But that was fine with me, you know.
For in her place another flew,
The lovely little ingenue.
He threw her in the air so high,
She really seemed at times to fly.
A fairy princess in our world,
As effortless he caught the girl.
Around and round they whirled and spun,
And won the hearts of ev'ryone.
A magic moment trapped in time,
This memory of dance sublime.
I am so glad I went to see,
This performance and to be,
Awed by such a wonderous sight,
Of Rudolf Nureyev that night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
About this poem:
Circa 1970...
Who You Are ?
You've ran the distance, but you're still in the race
You stayed strong and faced, what you had to face
You held on tight, what else could you do ?
Even when there was nothin' more, worth holdin' onto
Those ones that you once thought, surely knew you best
Are now the very ones, who have put you to the test
So how can they profess to know you, at your core ?
When they don't have a clue, of who you are !
And there's nothing else, that could ever matter more
Than them not even knowing, who you truly are !
You always thought, somehow you could change it all
You kept on standing firm, when you only wanted to fall
You just held on, for what else could you do ?
When all you ever wanted, was a strong arm holdin' you
Those same ones you thought, that surely knew you best
Are the very ones, who can't see, your soul too needs rest
When they don't even know you, at your core
How can they ever really know, just who you are ?
And what else, could ever possibly hurt you more ?
Then them not never, ever knowing, who you are...
Yes, you went the distance, you've came so far
But how can they ever know, just who you are ?
You stayed strong and faced, what you had to face
You held on tight, what else could you do ?
Even when there was nothin' more, worth holdin' onto
Those ones that you once thought, surely knew you best
Are now the very ones, who have put you to the test
So how can they profess to know you, at your core ?
When they don't have a clue, of who you are !
And there's nothing else, that could ever matter more
Than them not even knowing, who you truly are !
You always thought, somehow you could change it all
You kept on standing firm, when you only wanted to fall
You just held on, for what else could you do ?
When all you ever wanted, was a strong arm holdin' you
Those same ones you thought, that surely knew you best
Are the very ones, who can't see, your soul too needs rest
When they don't even know you, at your core
How can they ever really know, just who you are ?
And what else, could ever possibly hurt you more ?
Then them not never, ever knowing, who you are...
Yes, you went the distance, you've came so far
But how can they ever know, just who you are ?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
That age old question, that we all have asked. Does anyone really know, who we truly are ? Often not even, our own selves, or the ones that we often thought truly did !Déjà vu
Wading my way through
dust and wire
fields of desire..
streams of broken hearts and so many endless dreams
Nothing is ever, the way that it first seems..
Wading thorugh muck and mire..
And somehow never quite finding
What it is that I think that I desire.
An empty field of barren dreams.
And now there's only ice, where there once was fire..
Wondering if it's all a joke on me..
Because I can't see.. where it is that
I fit into in your life.
Or even if it's meant to be
Like why is it so hard. to figure out,
Where I'm supposed to be..
And where am I supposed to go..
Does anyone really know..
What it's all about
If you can then give me a shout
Because right now I'm so lost..
And I'm pretty much tempted to just say to hell with it..
And just give up on everything..
I couldnt bring you round to my way of thinking
I couldnt be the doormat that you so wanted me to be.
All you wanted was to scream and shout
Sorry that's not what I'm about ..
Already this is looking too much like a real bad marriage from Hell,
And I'm so ready to just bow out..
So what have you got to say.
I never quite envisioned us this way..
But if this is what you're all about
Repeating the same mistakes over and over again..
Then I'll be on the next train right out of your life..
Because I've been here and done this all before..
And you know this time I wanted something more..
But if this is going to be deja vu..
Then here's me sticking it to you...
Because I don't need this..
And I won't live this life again..
And nobody wins..
In this game of Dejavu
dust and wire
fields of desire..
streams of broken hearts and so many endless dreams
Nothing is ever, the way that it first seems..
Wading thorugh muck and mire..
And somehow never quite finding
What it is that I think that I desire.
An empty field of barren dreams.
And now there's only ice, where there once was fire..
Wondering if it's all a joke on me..
Because I can't see.. where it is that
I fit into in your life.
Or even if it's meant to be
Like why is it so hard. to figure out,
Where I'm supposed to be..
And where am I supposed to go..
Does anyone really know..
What it's all about
If you can then give me a shout
Because right now I'm so lost..
And I'm pretty much tempted to just say to hell with it..
And just give up on everything..
I couldnt bring you round to my way of thinking
I couldnt be the doormat that you so wanted me to be.
All you wanted was to scream and shout
Sorry that's not what I'm about ..
Already this is looking too much like a real bad marriage from Hell,
And I'm so ready to just bow out..
So what have you got to say.
I never quite envisioned us this way..
But if this is what you're all about
Repeating the same mistakes over and over again..
Then I'll be on the next train right out of your life..
Because I've been here and done this all before..
And you know this time I wanted something more..
But if this is going to be deja vu..
Then here's me sticking it to you...
Because I don't need this..
And I won't live this life again..
And nobody wins..
In this game of Dejavu
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2010
About this poem:
A poem about broken dreamsNot Your Enemy..
I think I could save you..
But first you'd have to let me in..
You're always wanting to play Superman,,
But there's no need to play these games with me..
I'd like to think I know you by now..
And I would like to think I know what it is..
That makes you tick,, and what it would take..
To absolve you from all that is dark...
Save you from your misery.
But first you would have to let me in..
And only then could you begin to see..
That it's never really been any great mystery to me..
Because I can see it , all the reasons that you hide..
Give me the chance to be on your side...
Because that's really where I've been all along...
If only you'd open your eyes and see...
It's always been you and me..
You've just build up this barricade..
Maybe to keep me from getting too close,
A wall you put up for protection..
Though one day,maybe you will lay down your heart..
And maybe no longer see me,
As the enemy..
But first you'd have to let me in..
You're always wanting to play Superman,,
But there's no need to play these games with me..
I'd like to think I know you by now..
And I would like to think I know what it is..
That makes you tick,, and what it would take..
To absolve you from all that is dark...
Save you from your misery.
But first you would have to let me in..
And only then could you begin to see..
That it's never really been any great mystery to me..
Because I can see it , all the reasons that you hide..
Give me the chance to be on your side...
Because that's really where I've been all along...
If only you'd open your eyes and see...
It's always been you and me..
You've just build up this barricade..
Maybe to keep me from getting too close,
A wall you put up for protection..
Though one day,maybe you will lay down your heart..
And maybe no longer see me,
As the enemy..
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2009
About this poem:
Sometimes we are our own worst enemy..and critic.Rose
I am a rose that lays upon a bed of thorns, the dew on my pedals is but yet a tear
I am up grounded from my roots, only to be weatherd ,rain or sun to sear
Withering whats left of my velvety beauty, then at last wind to blow my memory away
pieces of me to be scatterd , mixed with times dust only to come alive again another day
To hope with all mother natures love and care, that i will not return
a sadden flower
picked too soon, only to be thrown back and left to wilt, waiting for that final hour
I pray that I may be like a tree , with roots to run deep, strong and ever nobel
to sway with the wind and lifes changes, with standing times of trouble
I am up grounded from my roots, only to be weatherd ,rain or sun to sear
Withering whats left of my velvety beauty, then at last wind to blow my memory away
pieces of me to be scatterd , mixed with times dust only to come alive again another day
To hope with all mother natures love and care, that i will not return
a sadden flower
picked too soon, only to be thrown back and left to wilt, waiting for that final hour
I pray that I may be like a tree , with roots to run deep, strong and ever nobel
to sway with the wind and lifes changes, with standing times of trouble
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
Post Comment
Come closer....
Come closer to me
My sweet baby and
Give me a little hug.
Come closer to me
And give me a soft
sweet lovely kiss.
Come closer to me
And touch my hands
Make them warm.
Come closer tome
And give me your
Pure and honest love.
Come closer to me
And stay with me
Whispear in my ear
Love sweet words.
My sweet baby and
Give me a little hug.
Come closer to me
And give me a soft
sweet lovely kiss.
Come closer to me
And touch my hands
Make them warm.
Come closer tome
And give me your
Pure and honest love.
Come closer to me
And stay with me
Whispear in my ear
Love sweet words.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2009
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