Most Commented Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

1969 Sugar Sugar by The Archies
1970 Bridge Over Troubled Waters by Simon and Garfunkel
1971 Joy To The World by Three Dog Night
1972 The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Black
1973 Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree by Dawn/ Tony Orlando
1974 The Way We Were by Barbra Steisand
1975 Love Will Keep Us Together by Captain & Tennille
1976 Silly Love Songs by Wings
1977 Tonight's The Night by Rod Stewart
1978 Shadow Dancing by Andy Gibb
1979 My Sharona by The Knack
1980 Call Me by Blondie
1981 Betty Davis Eyes by Kim Carnes
1982 Physical by Olivia Newton-John
1983 Every Breath You Take by The Police
1984 When Doves Cry by Prince
1985 Careless Whisper by Wham!
1986 That's What Friends Are For by Dionne and Friends
1987 Walk Like An Egyptian by The Bangles
1988 Faith by George Michael
1989 Look Away by Chicago

Once I lived by Oman's seas,
with time and tides consistency,
her sun-drenched shores in golden span,
where Mohammed ne'er has changed his plan.
How heaven looks on in starry smiles
upon her balmy, tropic pearly ilses
and Arabian tales its teller tells,
along her blue-lit water swells,
in all its pedestrian faultlessness
live humble origins of happiness,
where no subtle devious laws apply;
for eye is taken for an eye,
honour's pride, a deed that's taught,
more precious, than life caught
in fine silks or woven tapestries.
For knowingly, stolen truth deceives
with false words, human dignity
profits not greed's profanity,
that with malevolent ease spermed
detested rape and virtue to carnage turned.
Mecca's eastern temple's soft embrace
counsel prayers, richer life may trace
to seek, not youth's custom bold
of stars in vain that only heaven hold.
Good earthly minds with virtue fill,
mastering low passion's prolific ill,
save gluttonous fools, whose greatest store
is wanting abundance more and more,
vast grown in jewelled- bespeckled misery,
focus only silvered coins treachery.
Scales of justice there bestow
judgement, the rapier strikes its blow,
handed down from ageless time
behoves the scales of justice divine.
Thus doyen and sweet child
breathe Arabian soft perfumes mild;
oft thy pleasured memories I will draw
upon, all that my eager eyes once saw,
vaults of memory, thou for me have made
to light the dull edge of black day.

Gone are the days of the innocent dream,
A time when love showed respect,
When chivalrous men displayed high esteem,
Poor manners, proper ladies would deflect.

Lost in the shadows of a rude modern world,
Cool to show promiscuous behavior,
s*xual disarray and disease unfurled,
Common decency their only saviour.

I recall a time when love was young,
An innocence so precious to savour,
Lips soft kisses speak, not foul mouthed tongue,
Our breath minty, not cigarette flavour.

We oft' whispered a prayer to our silver coins,
Then released them to the old wishing well,
Stared at them glint as they fell entwined,
Just as we would, under starryeyed spell.

'Neath the shedding cherry blossom, where lovers used meet,
Like confetti when the breeze did blow,
We'd laugh and kiss on the worn wooden seat,
Petals showering like a fall of pink snow.

Oh ! Where are they now, those bygone days ?
Return to us please !... we implore,
Banished forever in respectful haze,
Replaced by a lawless street whore !

IT'S BEEN MANY YEARS, SINCE YOU'VE, COME AND GONE; BUT YOUR MEMORY, SHALL ALWAYS LIVE, ON AND ON! THOUGH, YOUR BROTHER, RICHARD, CREATED THE TUNES; IT WAS YOUR VELVET VOICE, THAT CAST A SPELL, ON MANY MOONS! YOUR UNTIMELY DEMISE, BROUGHT MANY TEARS, TO ALL THE WORLD'S EYES! I CAN ASSURE YOU, KAREN, THROUGH RICHARDS WRITING, AND YOUR WONDERFUL VOICE; YOU SHALL ALWAYS BE; MY FEMALE ARTIST OF CHOICE!

Need i say more,
Heaven forbid ,
Feeling pain,
Deep inside.

I wish to say more,
Hell has no fury,
Pounding headache,
Memories all gone.

Can i say more?
Nothing on earth,
Piercing scream,
Will i ever sleep?

I will say no more,
Are you sleeping tonight?
Let me be in peace,
Nothing worth keeping!

Let's think of things gone by
times that have moved on
all the inventions come to pass
many moons ago one rose with the sun
and went to bed hard day's work done
with the setting of the sun
few luxuries there were to be had
no glass in the windows to keep you dry
the cold seeping in chilling you to the bone
a straw pallet on the floor for your bed
with only a harsh home spun blanket no sheets
a cup of herb tea and if lucky a slice of bread
veggie soup for dinner maybe some rabbit in it
thus was life for our fore fathers and mothers
hard toil dawn to dusk tax man to pay or else out
to sleep in hedgerows or warm barn if lucky
today we sit in warm houses food on most tables
but I ask myself who were the lucky ones?
was it them or is it us
as the more we have the more we want

Twilight Years 2
by Linda Hillier 26/02/2013

As my life moves into these years
I stop and reflect
my mind takes me back
to places I have been

to the poignant memories

so many places
so many thoughts
each one special
many things form us

when life kicks you in the face
when the weight of the world
seems too much to bear
dust yourself down, move on

take with you instead
the laughter , happiness and even pain
all experiences are good
the fault is how we relate to them

as time now growing short
marches relentessly on
I pause, reflect ,and try
to leave behind the hurts

so much still ahead
many things yet to do
I pause in my thoughts
then push them away,

future beckoning me ever on

If I could only see
Far beyond the sunrise
And look for that place
Where there are no horizons
Dawn never arrives
And a misty sunset
Was a dream
Long forgotten in the past
As if life
Was a vacuum
Staring blindly back
And yet
There is nothing to see

Hope, was a nonsense word
Love, was solely meant
For the imaginative
I sought for beauty
Not within you
Only within myself

If I could only see
If I could only see

Alas! long since flown Springs warm scented hours,
hand in hand with her thirst quenching showers;
unforgiving time gave way to Summer's sun, to infuse
the carnival of dawn's web drenched misty dews,
reborn from slumber, days new vibrant atmosphere
invite free migrant swallows, to flit and steer
their fleet of flight o'er the crisp blue sky,
weaving wonderment to the awe enraptured eye,
where floats the frolic wind, both bold and debonair,
intoxicates the eager pen, with brazen prowess, dare
word paint the unseen breeze in antique poetry,
Ah!, such were those days of youthful revery.

Fond Autumnal hues, now spill kisses o'er the terrain,
caressing soft the ripening fruit and golden grain,
yet warm remains the wind, that forever weaves
symphonic music, to rustle thru' the once green leaves,
embroidered by red golden tints in profusion found,
as with the coloured carpets rich seasonal ground,
such the Autumnal wealth, that in quietude bless the land,
tint textured sown, by natures creative caring hand,
as hymns of joy orchestrate her heavenly craft in praise,
an annual resolution kept in countenance, our senses to amaze,
much as celestial climes where starry magic e'er prevail
and where dance in incandescent light the comet's blazing trail.

Thus into Winter my contented soul retire,
reflecting warmth, gathered by past seasons fire,
thus I sowed and reaped the harvest of my days,
scribed my muse and reveled in its praise,
braved winds, oft whose breath ill fortune blows,
yet each gale, transient as the desert snows,
thro' life's journey endured many a weary mile,
't'is better borne, when we upon its burdens smile
along that rugged unkempt road of life, oftimes leads
to a beautiful destination, flower paved by our stoic deeds,
so, close not the curtain upon Winters fragile sun,
for dare we choose, our days can still be fun.

ever notice how bad ideas make good stories
remember how you told your Mom that you'd
be right home after school but went trestling
instead with Johnny and Lawrence and you ran
like a fearful wind when the train caught up
and any one of you could've been funeral fodder

or like the time your brother swore that you
should go tell that girl how you really felt
and the red-faced humiliation that heated you
he and you laugh now and the story is great
but a small part of pride never forgets

remember how those two boys offered to take
you and Belinda and Mary Jo to the beach that
hot hot swimsuit summer day and you all jumped
into that old beat up station wagon, the blonde one
drove until the beer ran out and so did the road

recall the wind when you grunted over the rise
with full pack and half full canteen you thought
"join the army see the world" and that great
feeling of being so alive just seconds before
the sunlit flash blasted you into Walter Reed

Johnny said he knew a guy with a sure thing
but to keep quiet 'bout it 'cause...you know
and Johnny himself put up his house and
didn't even tell his wife...well ex-wife...
you shoulda listened to me back then man

we could be much worse considering everything
for the foolish things we contemplate and do
without thinking of all branches of the tree
of decisions that in twenty-twenty rear view
seem so obvious to prideful or mortal danger

in the end we reach some storied epilogue
rocking back-n-forth quietly now, just us,
you and me here, after the good laughs, and
good times, smiled tears running, why oh why
did it happen that way...i can't believe it

© agoodguy2have 2010-12-01