Here is a list of Nostalgia Poems ordered by Most Viewed, 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.
Sonnet to truth
There's doubtless beauty in plain truth,
gold spun above the stars own roof,
serving thus, make false words uncouth
that web of conceit, lace woven guile aloof,
Truth bows not down to manipulated lies,
'tis but pen scribed, by timeless poetic laws,
embodies the stoic heart, straight limb applies,
antique written, unblemished without flaws,
oft by pomposity called naive simplicity,
yet dignifies love for mans own common good,
nurturing fond realms of strong brotherhood,
illustrates well,virtues simplistic integrity,
Truths own truth, sacred, incalculable,
free life's shackles by love unquestionable
gold spun above the stars own roof,
serving thus, make false words uncouth
that web of conceit, lace woven guile aloof,
Truth bows not down to manipulated lies,
'tis but pen scribed, by timeless poetic laws,
embodies the stoic heart, straight limb applies,
antique written, unblemished without flaws,
oft by pomposity called naive simplicity,
yet dignifies love for mans own common good,
nurturing fond realms of strong brotherhood,
illustrates well,virtues simplistic integrity,
Truths own truth, sacred, incalculable,
free life's shackles by love unquestionable
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2016
About this poem:
In surveying the general political scene world wide, economy of truth appears to be ' stock on trade', ushered in by smooth rhetoric.
Bundango
He came from the old west
His name was Bundango
He could shoot the wings off of a housefly at 50 paces
The only time he smiled was after he killed a guy
He was as hard as granite
And as mean as a rattlesnake
He never paid for a drink
The bartender was too afraid to ask him to pay
He cheated at cards
The saloon patrons would never call him on a cheat
Cause they knew they would be dead men if they did
Bundango ate the same thing every meal
Flapjacks, bacon, and whiskey
Enough whiskey to send most mere mortals to an early grave
But not old Bundango
No sir
Bundango liked to smoke Cuban cigars
He could make smoke rings real good
So if you ever cross paths with Bundango
Be sure to look the other way and leave him be
He might just let you live
So goes the legend of Bundango
His name was Bundango
He could shoot the wings off of a housefly at 50 paces
The only time he smiled was after he killed a guy
He was as hard as granite
And as mean as a rattlesnake
He never paid for a drink
The bartender was too afraid to ask him to pay
He cheated at cards
The saloon patrons would never call him on a cheat
Cause they knew they would be dead men if they did
Bundango ate the same thing every meal
Flapjacks, bacon, and whiskey
Enough whiskey to send most mere mortals to an early grave
But not old Bundango
No sir
Bundango liked to smoke Cuban cigars
He could make smoke rings real good
So if you ever cross paths with Bundango
Be sure to look the other way and leave him be
He might just let you live
So goes the legend of Bundango
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
Watched Django a few days ago and was inspired to write something of old west bad guys. If you haven't seen this movie, I highly reccommend it. But be warned, it is a shoot em up western, and a blow em western too.
Once a child
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
Once a child
lay on her knee
who could know
what happens to thee
So you ll crawl
and they applaud
watch you walk
with smiling face
Come to me
voices call you
once a child
little boy blue
Back in the forest
of yesterdays trees
little boy blue
on his knees
Playing games
the world not seen
all you see
fields of green
Then we grew
shedding our years
like the leaves
off the tree
Wish upon wish
i really saw
what was on
that path for me....
Once a child
lay on her knee
who could know
what happens to thee
So you ll crawl
and they applaud
watch you walk
with smiling face
Come to me
voices call you
once a child
little boy blue
Back in the forest
of yesterdays trees
little boy blue
on his knees
Playing games
the world not seen
all you see
fields of green
Then we grew
shedding our years
like the leaves
off the tree
Wish upon wish
i really saw
what was on
that path for me....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
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Doors
Sometimes I wander through the halls of my mind...
Testing each door.
Will that one open today? Is that one still locked?
A scent, a sound, a glimpse of another time...
Takes me back in my life.
Wandering down the paths of my mind.
Do I have any regrets, is that wound healed?
Is the sense of wonder and awe still there?
Do I remember that flower, is it still fragrant and new?
Are my dreams still in color, bursting with passion and joy?
Do I find myself happy or full of sorrows this day?
Sometimes I wander through the halls of my mind...
Testing each door.
That door opened today, another memory set free.
Testing each door.
Will that one open today? Is that one still locked?
A scent, a sound, a glimpse of another time...
Takes me back in my life.
Wandering down the paths of my mind.
Do I have any regrets, is that wound healed?
Is the sense of wonder and awe still there?
Do I remember that flower, is it still fragrant and new?
Are my dreams still in color, bursting with passion and joy?
Do I find myself happy or full of sorrows this day?
Sometimes I wander through the halls of my mind...
Testing each door.
That door opened today, another memory set free.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
A day of contemplation.Video Games
Made a purchase yesterday
Spent 85 and change
I got a system that plays my old nintendo and sega games
I had a sega system I got back in 1995
It cost me 70 and came with Mortal Kombat
I had it till I accidentally broke it
I flopped on my waterbed and it fell off and broke
I had it till a year ago
The nintendo I bought back in 2003 when the video store closed
I have games that date back to the late 1980's
I play playstation, playstation 2, and Xbox games too
If I had to pick my favorite game from Nintendo
It would be Mike Tyson's Punchout
If I had to pick my favorite game from Sega
It would be Ms. Pacman
I have cheats for each that make it more fun
I can go really fast in Ms. Pacman and make the board small
I can punch really hard in Mike Tyson's Punchout
I really love my video games
I have been playing them since 1981
Now I just spend less quarters
Spent 85 and change
I got a system that plays my old nintendo and sega games
I had a sega system I got back in 1995
It cost me 70 and came with Mortal Kombat
I had it till I accidentally broke it
I flopped on my waterbed and it fell off and broke
I had it till a year ago
The nintendo I bought back in 2003 when the video store closed
I have games that date back to the late 1980's
I play playstation, playstation 2, and Xbox games too
If I had to pick my favorite game from Nintendo
It would be Mike Tyson's Punchout
If I had to pick my favorite game from Sega
It would be Ms. Pacman
I have cheats for each that make it more fun
I can go really fast in Ms. Pacman and make the board small
I can punch really hard in Mike Tyson's Punchout
I really love my video games
I have been playing them since 1981
Now I just spend less quarters
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2013
About this poem:
Video games have come a long way since Pong came out in the late 70's. I have spent a good number of my free hours playing them. I have two tvs in my living room. One to watch dvds, vhs' and tv, and the other to play video games. Sometimes I'll listen to my music on my Xbox jukebox that holds 100 albums. I mostly have favorite songs on there.
* * *
Pink peaches I will keep remembering till today …
You’re haunting me the same … you’re killing me the same.
Such craving is in me for you! Oh what a wistful day,
The sky that is the same. The tree that’s very much the same …
The wind that blows the same. The willow's bending down.
The sun that’s just the same. The winding road – the same.
With all my might I’ll tell the wind that’s westward bound
In similar voice I'll tell the grief that’s very much the same.
You’re haunting me the same … you’re killing me the same.
Such craving is in me for you! Oh what a wistful day,
The sky that is the same. The tree that’s very much the same …
The wind that blows the same. The willow's bending down.
The sun that’s just the same. The winding road – the same.
With all my might I’ll tell the wind that’s westward bound
In similar voice I'll tell the grief that’s very much the same.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
About this poem:
Translation from one of the most well-known Georgian poets Galaktion Tabidze
True Blue Knights
In days of old, when knights were told that damsels
Were in trouble,those brave men would ride out
On their trusty steed only with a sword and sheild,
Risking their life to protect them. They would also fight
For King and Country, regardless of the quest
Fighting bands of enemy soldiers would put them to the test.
In modern times those knights are gone, but the cause is still alive
These true blue knights they call Police with their
Shiny sheild and Gun, their steed is now a motor bike
Which catch criminals on the run; though times
Are very different now, the aim is still the same,
These true blue knights work just as hard,
Keeping law and order once again.
Were in trouble,those brave men would ride out
On their trusty steed only with a sword and sheild,
Risking their life to protect them. They would also fight
For King and Country, regardless of the quest
Fighting bands of enemy soldiers would put them to the test.
In modern times those knights are gone, but the cause is still alive
These true blue knights they call Police with their
Shiny sheild and Gun, their steed is now a motor bike
Which catch criminals on the run; though times
Are very different now, the aim is still the same,
These true blue knights work just as hard,
Keeping law and order once again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2012
About this poem:
This poem is a sequel to "Ode To A Policeman" it is a reflection of earlier times were knights, were medieval Police in suits of armour which would later be bulletproof vests, there is a sort of comparison between the old and new. this poem reflects this.
The Zodiac
I turn to the celestial dial
to seek and find the one
to match my unique lifestyle...
Leaving it to the twinkling stars
could she be Venus
and I the warring Mars?
Hard core fiction or stone cold fact
she could be mine
according to the zodiac...
Mine is amethyst
perhaps hers the pearl
still we match with just one kiss...
Although it may not be all exact
I know I'll find her soon
according to the zodiac...
to seek and find the one
to match my unique lifestyle...
Leaving it to the twinkling stars
could she be Venus
and I the warring Mars?
Hard core fiction or stone cold fact
she could be mine
according to the zodiac...
Mine is amethyst
perhaps hers the pearl
still we match with just one kiss...
Although it may not be all exact
I know I'll find her soon
according to the zodiac...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2013
About this poem:
An astrological poem..lol
twilight
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
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
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
forget the other got side tracted (thats my excuse lol)
Alone
Flickering light
Sent of essence
Fill s the darkend room
The lights dance
Candles flicker ,lights the darkend room
The table set
Meal for two
I sit in silence
As I think of you
All alone
Sadness keeps my company
As I remember the time of good
All I do is dream of you
Sent of essence
Fill s the darkend room
The lights dance
Candles flicker ,lights the darkend room
The table set
Meal for two
I sit in silence
As I think of you
All alone
Sadness keeps my company
As I remember the time of good
All I do is dream of you
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2014
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