Most Commented Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

I heard a record of
the celtic harp,
and relived the bardic times
Of wild tales of valour
Steeped in mystery
and Merlin's magic.
Fairies danced in the moonlight
as the Bard sang
To the tune of the harp.
Men lived in honourable strife
And drank to dead heroes
Women loved and respected
Were happy in their lot
Never thought of equality
They knew their power.
Wisdom oft was sought
from seers
skilled in the ancient arts
when gods walked the earth.
Rome destroyed the Celtic world
Now enslaved in hymn and prayer
and never a harp to be heard.

I opened a bottle of ale
and drank to the memory
of the Celtic world
and days of the bardic harp.

The days of my life were settled and set in stone for many years,
one day the stone walls crumbled and fell.

Now the world and my days are ever changing,
instead of always being the same,
now I float on air,
then crash and burn,
I cry in the rain and laugh with the wind,
always changing and always offering hope.

Always knowing tomorrow will never be the same,
the winds of my soul will always reach out for something it knows is there, it would be nice to rest and feel the winds settle soon.

swept away with words and gentleness,
the woman inside melted and became whole slowly over so long.
His gentleness made the world seem like a magical world,
the girl reacted and he healed her.

And then one day she lost him and she cried,
but he is a Man who was given to her for a short time only,
now she knows He is happy and ok.

The bubble burst open suddenly one day and the warm sun shone,
her wings opened and she lifted her face to the sun, she smiled.

Now is the time to fly, the idea that there is a Man strong enough
will never die, but until she finds Him she will live and love with her
whole heart.

Draped in her bed sheet
The model stands her modesty hidden
From prying eyes
Draping her body her

Elegant curves
Hidden but reavelling
easing the eye of the beholder
She lays
Her forming curves

Gently resting her torsoed body
Spreads herself ontop the table
Her left leg gentley held crossed up right
Here gaze held
Proped by her arms
She the watcher looks into their gaze

Her mind blank to the minds of the watchers
Pens in hand they paint
Cavtavating her form
as one with the canvas and paint

Her soul her form now captuerd in paint

I will lie right here whilst you tickle my toes,
Prod me with instruments and shove things up my nose,
Wash me all over with cleanser, water and soap,
For me to object there is not a chance or a hope.

You can even have a go at turning me over and around,
Or changing my clothes in my own empty silent surround,
Putting up drips and bags, checking that all is well,
No matter what you do, for the moment I will not tell.

I know you understand that I am very much aware,
I can feel the warmth radiating from every smile or glare,
Everything you give and everything you do or say,
I shall always remember from now until the end of my day.

So when I recover and am walking through a crowd,
And feel or am touched without any sound,
It's the memories you all instilled in your own personal style,
So I am letting you know that whatever you do, it is all worthwhile.

I can barely see through the slits in the glass,
Beyond it are tubes and machinary all on mass,
The odd body here, the occasional person their,
Serving customers that are not even aware.

I feel all the heartache and sense very little joy,
Not sure inside how to feel, is all this just to annoy,
Admiration, please switch them on and make them sing,
For these customers its not working, they have no bell to ring.

Their are two halves to this particular game of life,
Both bringing on their own version of manic strife,
Love, devotion, caring and time, given each day,
But I assure you, no customer here ever wishes to stay.

Navy and light blue, white, green and red are all after no thanks,
Spending the hours in silence, a team without any ranks,
Everyone hoping for a gift to give and must achieve,
Which is the joy they recieve when a silent customer leaves.

Thank you for dropping in...

This poem is one of a few I have already taken down. Please accept my apology, I hope I haven't wasted your time.

Due to time constrain I have have not removed the lot, I will eventually. In saying that most of the I have posted here are still available to peruse. I hope you'll enjoy them or some of them. Thanks once again....

Now 'Romy' was a friend of mine
He stood 'round 14:3
He had a damn good temperament
Well...pretty much like me
Was kind and honest ..did his job
He never questioned orders
we'd chased a lot of cattle tho'
And crossed a lot of borders

There's only once that springs to mind
When he was only three
T'was my fault things got hectic
And 'Ol Romy' would agree
But that's a few years bygone hence
When I was young and green
So pull a stump and settle down
And visualize the scene

I rolled my swag and packed my gear
And walked towards my horse
Happy in my chosen work
A drovers life of course
I placed the sweat cloth on his back
And eased the saddle up
I tightened up the cinches
Then started to mount up

I swung loosely to the saddle
And gathered up the reins
Then 'Romy' just exploded
Like a ruptured water mains
His shoulders lifted rigid
He caught me by surprise
I saw myself in orbit
Right before my very eyes

The gap got real wider
T'ween the saddle and my rear
And I knew that leaving leather
Was very very near
But in determination
With all the strength to find
I hung on for my 'crown jewels'
Were foremost on my mind

He bucked and rose and grunted
I knew something was amiss
For never had 'Ol Romy'
Ever acted up like this
It seemed like it was ages
But was seconds I am sure
Then I got off and left him
I was feeling rather sore

He'd sent the camp gear flying
He had kicked a lot of sand
I looked and there stood 'cookie'
With a shovel in his hand
The look he gave was fit to kill
As I sit here thinking that
If I had spoke a single word
He would have broke my back

But I had turned to 'Romy'
Something was not right
I had to find a reason
For his sudden airborne fright
So I took my gear down off him
To check it thoroughly
To find a damn Nagoora Burr
Was ne'er the death of me

From that day on I never missed
A time to check my 'tack'
I always check my saddle cloth
And brush my horses back
T'was only once in his whole life
'Oh boy' he let me know
And for years we went on droving
North and South with Mobs we'd go

With mobs from up in Queensland
Cross borders far and free
Then down the old 'Strezlecki..
To the railhead at Marree
Where we'd load them into wagons
Then turn our heads for town
To start the next job planning
Another mob to bring on down

But the Droving days are over
Road trains ply their faster trade
Still the Drover has his memories
Of all the trips he made
It's an era I'll remember
Up until my dying day
And I'll not forget 'Ol Romy'
My old mate of yesterday..


M.B.Poems 2010....

Keith Urban
Niki Minaj
Randy Jackson
Mariah Carey
These are the judges for this season 12 of American Idol
Who will get cut?
Who will cry?
Who will make a million dollars?
Who will be forgotten?
There's been Kelly Clarkson
Clay Aiken, Ruben Studdard, Carrie Underwood
Taylor Hicks, Jordin Sparks, David Cook
Adam Lambert, Scotty McCreery, Phillip Phillips
There been other winners too
What is my favorite song from the show?
Clay Aiken's Invisible
A close second is Kelly Clarkson's A Moment Like This
What is my favorite cover?
Adam Lambert's Mad World by Tears for Fears
I didn't even know that song existed before he sang it
My second favorite cover is Blake Lewis'
You Should Be Dancin by the Bee Gees
Who was the hottest contestant?
My pick would be Ryan Starr from season 1
Who is my favorite bad singer?
Mary Roach for her disturbed reaction to the judges
I miss Simon Cowell
I miss Paula Abdul a lot
What will Niki Minaj say next?

To be chased amongst the waves
to only pray the sands are near

dripping souls so wasted
within the wreck
of booms
silently folding to the sea

the roar of untimed

curses melting to the weed

no silent stay
would be upon

the wretched gulping
water to breath

of shoes a lonely float
glistening rings

befell
the journey
to the bar

of grasping sands

train wreck sounds
hollow the squalls

which man shall be succumbed
slipping creaking

I looked

no floating cargo
but smashed and lonely

winds carried me away

The west called
amongst the bush i crawled

a silent cargo
i stayed
I built
I never forgot

and here I shall

live amongst my plot