Most Commented Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

entering life's core
center crust
of existence
tore from limb
to limb
serving in peace
inside the heartache

opening crypts
within the mind
speaks in
its own world
is this life
we live
worth living

naked outside
our being
such bitterness
could turn
the beauty
of joy
into sadness

a battlefield within
oneself could turn
love into hate
pain and suffering follows
overturning happiness leaving
the dreaded darkness
of oncoming doom
words spoken meaningless
full of
empty promises

a forever dream
destroying future plans
one foolish game played
judging one completely
without good reason
down trodden
without mercy
fighting in
the light

your shame
is haunting
turning a sanctuary
into a dark prison
emotions greater
than oneself
found the answers
behind unforgiving
truth in reality
i let you go
with love

Will summer's love transcend
Or will it fade like the last red pale rose.
Clinging to the bush..
Destined to die a slow and lonely death..

Can summer's love reach beyond the supple green branches
full of life and hope
To the crumpled dying burnt orange
leaves lying on the ground..

Can summer love survive ..
The cold dreary November rain..
Can summer love linger
Through autumn's dreary night..

Will the heady scent that lingered
through summer's majestic reign,
Fly away with the birds, or will it remain,
And see us through autumn,s cold dark past.
And can it last..

[Lorenz’s Butterfly effect:

In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions; where a small change at one place in a nonlinear system can result in large differences to a later state. For example, the presence or absence of a butterfly flapping its wings could lead to creation or absence of a hurricane.]

Wikipedia


As the sand on the dunes of the desert shifts, so do we,
Layer upon layer, we are Shifting in and out of character,
Much like Shakespearean artistes of yesteryear,
Puppets in an eternal dream…


Our moods are as fickle as an elevator,
One moment up, next moment down,
An inane word here, an inane look there,
Give rise to emotional typhoons,
No less potentially destructive in their effect than their tropical counterparts in the northwestern part of the Pacific Ocean bearing between 180° and 100°E …


You may be sitting on your sea-shore balcony, politely minding your own innocent business, enjoying organic coffee and chocolate-raisin-stuffed-Polish candy with your beloved, when out of nowhere your emotional equilibrium is shattered… By what cataclysmic event? The young woman on the floor below and across you naively flashes an ivory-flavored thigh as she cleans her floor…
She’s blissfully unaware of the cyclone of lust she’s unleashed in the up-to-then idle male eyes…
Wow!!! Talk about a Shift…, talk about the ‘butterfly’ effect, sigh…


This same irredeemably masculine mind, may, just a few hours later, be listening to Neale Donald Walsch’s live net seminar broadcast from halfway around the world, allowing itself to be meditatively taken to g_d’s bosom, and, experience the omnipresent peace of divinity…,
As spaced out as any Saibaba devotee reclining at the master’s feet…


Shifting…


Or, you may be routinely stepping out of your apartment complex for a greasy gyro at the corner on a Mediterranean Friday night, when, suddenly, from across the boulevard, melodious jazz tunes caress your eardrums…, emitted by a saxophone player at the wine boutique,
Like a lamb to the thrilling slaughter, you go and imbibe of the complementary French Cabernet Sauvignon and sundry aperitifs,
Chatting idly with the leggingly-alluring Russian hostesses doesn’t hurt either…
You surrender, this time, to an enticing and mellow Shift, but, what a Shift from a run of the mill greasy gyro…


Shifting…, shifting…, shifting…,
Such are “…the days of our lives…”, rolling on inexorably, “…like sands through the hourglass…”, with apologies to NBC…


Happy Shifting…

I once had a vision that I was a cork floating in the ocean, rudderless and lost, and cosmically alone,
Then you came into my life, and grounded me, and sweetened me, and wizened me, and comforted me, and took my loneliness away, and kissed my wounds better, and loved me…, and…, well, there’s no end…
For all these, I said to you,
I love you…


Then you hurt me, almost mortally,
Left me feeling naked and scorned,
Tired and destitute and old before my time,
And emptiness clothed me once again, like some dark, cavernous abyss, whose hunger is never satiated,
For that, I truly hated you…,
For that, I now say to you,
I’m sorry…


I exacted my revenge on you, though,
I betrayed you,
I scorned you,
I exhausted you,
I made you old before your time,
A sad, shameful and pyrrhic victory,
For this, I now say to you,
Please forgive me…


Now, you’re gone,
Forever…,
Now, my wounds are much, much better,
Now your aromatic incense can only visit my dreams,
Now, I realize what a wretched hypocrite I was, it was, after all, easy to love you when you were my raison d'être,
When you fed me honey,
But when, in your weakness, you unwittingly buried a scorpion’s sting into my very essence,
I retaliated, like a spoilt, unruly brat, actually more like a venomous viper,
And, I did of course, pay the dear price, oh, I paid…,
Now, I realize, you were my greatest teacher, my greatest love, my best friend, the sweetest melody a wretch like me has ever heard,
For that, and for innumerable other niceties, I want to truly thank you,
Thank you…

Once upon a time some poets would gather
And write poems of their choice
It was beautiful and lovely
It allowed each poet to have a voice

Comments made on those poems
Were lovely to read and digest
The comments inspired the poets
And gave them a feeling of being blessed

To all those poets I wish to say
It was great to have your work read
May your lives be blessed evermore
Thank you for what we have shared

And now, all you dearest poets
You can look back at those days
They were all so wonderful and happy
Oh yes, those were the days

La-la-la-da-da-da
La-la-la-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da

Her body glistens in the light
I've longed to play with her all night
I pick her up and hold her steady
Take a deep breath, we're both ready
Anticipation grows to show her what I've learned
From deep within my heart my passion burns
I gently grab her neck and pull her near
My right hand on her body the time is here
As I trace her curves with my fingers
The smell of sweat begins to linger
Slowly now I plug it in
A moment of silence as we begin
I hold her steady, we both are ready
I begin to sing she begins breathing heavy
The sounds and feelings grow more immense
The movements become more intense.
She screams and screams from love in motion
When my heart stops as the door swings opens
My mom walks in and with a frown
Says, "Your guitar is too loud, please turn it down"

Stains on yellowed linens,
On arms of easy chair,
Tear stains on a pillow,
And stains in underwear.

Coffee stains on tables,
From burning midnight oil.
Stains on faded bluejeans,
From gas and grease and soil.

Tar stains on crooked teeth,
From years of sucking smoke.
And similar addictions,
Like coffee, tea and Coke.

Stains that tell a story,
Of life lived day by day,
Until the final staining
As life's blood drains away.

A prisoner of time
I suffer daily,
It used to be all mine,
Confused with "if" and "maybe"...

Time value comes with loss
No longer my own boss
I struggle to remember
Continue to forget
And only in a moment
I won`t feel regret

I can`t remember to forget you,
I can`t remember you`re gone
My memory became a quiet whisper
I can`t remember what I`ve done!

A prisoner of time
Now time goes slowly = lento
The clock of life got stuck
Forever in Memento...

Family is his heart,
and all that he will strive for.
Working day and night,
if that is what is called for.

Gentle strength,in his silence,
when concerns lurk within.
Search an action to be taken,
so that he may begin.

Collecting mushrooms sweet contentment,
curve of mountain against skies.
His pleasure in the outside,
sleeping stars where he lies.

Hunting game is excitement,
animated stories to be told.
His football seals alliance,
he knows his place,in the world.

Cooked meat in his care,
taking stock from his seat.
joyous feeling in the moment,
children playing at his feet.

Everytime i look at you i see
my past my present and my future
all wrapped up
so perfectly.

It would be so easy just to be with you
To say good-bye to all of the reasons why..
It could never work with him..
And yet,even now..
I can't seem to say good-bye..

He can't make me happy. not like you could
He could never be the man I need
not the way you would

His love is superficial
and I guess that so am I..
Why else would I hang on
just to hear his pretty lies..
When I know in my heart of hearts
I should walk away.. just say good-bye.

A million dollar smile
cant disguise his cold black heart .
He may momentarliy light up the room..
but his smile can't light the moon..
not like you do..

A pretty face, cannot erase..
The cold black heart inside..
I can't believe that I have become
so meager and so shallow within..
But I guess that I have become what I despise..
It would seem I'm just like him..

Trading a beautiful face..
for love's warm embrace
And overlooking all I have ever wanted
and still I push it away..
Ignore the true beauty that lies within.

And what does this say about me..
Oh how I long to be set free
From this shallowness,
that eats away at me..
And from his cold and so blackheart.
That holds me captive..
In it's cold embrace.
A Beautiful face..
Can never take the place..
Can not begin to erase..
A cold black heart.