Most Viewed Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

of all the controversy

that is,
what is it

Salvidor Dali, Johnny Cash......

never come here for forgiveness

the surreal of what
it gets me holding on

no intention of plagiarized

don't care

looking ahead now

well i aint don't done nothing to anybody

Just will keep whittling...

I fell unto a time
that really I

as remembered
you were never really there

I smile

and

carry on my path as you do

All the trees oak
knowledge

have no idea
Amber was passed to me
the ring sat fine

but for what
to pass that river, road, mountain, or just
swim amongst the seas

my hands are 50 years gone by

I am but me


will you kiss me

Like the sun that shines oh so brightly
You’ll never mistake her for when she struts around.
You’ve heard of a feisty cat, a royalty
In the middle of the spotlight there she can be found.

Don’t be deceived by her femininity and wit
For she definitely can hunt you down no doubt about it
Territorial and hot tempered
Acknowledge her beauty and reign, she will be flattered.

This queen of the jungle is your boss
But don’t be deterred for she’s caring and kind
Disregard her warmth and loyalty, it’s your loss
Another her, nowhere you can find.

All she wants is to be treated well - gold, diamonds, and pearl
Be vivacious for she despises a bore
Your best bib and tucker plus some regal flair
Will earn you a majestic lioness’ roar.

My feet feel the three inch beam beneath them.
Only for a minute then we become one.
Then I am at home.
I can dance in the air.
Without a care.
Backwards, forwards.
Spin around with ease.
Don't try this at home children please.
It takes practice and calm.
And strength you don't see.
But I dance and I dance for me.
A fool says watch where you lay your feet.
But a fool looks down and that is what they will meet.
So I dance with the grace,
Of feeling in place.
Turn around, bend, dip and spin.
I hope this dance will never end.

Oh! ye narrow minds where barbarous thoughts belong,
what joy find you in treacherous silken tongue?
How with lofty air you proudly walk on snow
with arrogance abound, think your footsteps never show;
strut you like tigers, who flaunt their visual art
in amplification of stature, profanity impart
gestures ignoble, with generosity unreal,
solicit ignots, then dividends of interest steal,
self-centred wisdom, speak of books you so adore,
but books give not wisdom where there was none before,
Golden opinions effuse with intolerence prone,
oft know not the difference 'twixt desert and the sown,
still high-handed insolence approbation seek,
whilst cultured courtesy oft turns the other cheek.

When I will come back,
I will run
Through the snow,
Not touching the ground,
Leaving
Barely a trace...
I will stop near your windows,
All my memories will return
When I come back.

When I will come back
I will go to the house,
Where the smell
Of fresh bread
Reminds me of times
Long gone
And will tear at my heart
When I come back....

When I will come back,
The nightingales will sing
That old lingering
Nearly forgotten tune.
And I will fall
Defeated
By my own return
If I will come back…

Xmas
Turkey
Roasties
And sprouts
Soup to start lots of gravy
Mince pies, oh xmas puds and cream and custard
Coffee and cream ,biscuits and cheese
This the time to be merry
With xmas cheer .I wish you amerry xmas
And
A
Very
Happy
New year 2015

She is naughty,
She is nice,
She is a mix of rum
With a dash of spice...
Intoxicating and heady,
She could also be quite crazy,
Daring and adventurous,
She is no cowering mouse...
Zipping over trees,
Surfing on open seas,
Cruising on a motorcycle,
Should see her operate a kayak and
paddle...
Teasing and laughing
Always bubbling
Better than a vintage
Champagne...
Sarcastic sometimes,
Cruel never,
Loyal but fierce
Heart full of kindness...
Generous and sensitive,
Crying for puppies, kittens and
Movies,
Could scarce say no to a sad story...
This is the other me
The me that is hidden carefully....
The me I wish you'd see.

Her features were changed for the pleasure and surveillance of man so that they would accept and desire her more.

With her renovation, pieces of her soul were cut off and fake ones were built on.The wounds created, remained unhealed as her walls began to crack open and bleed.

The earth within and beneath her couldn’t take the change and pressure of destruction and construction, and started changing her very signature mark: her heart.

Her heart was a place where little children swam to cool down the heat of a hot Summer’s day.

Here the young teenager girl could write songs and relax next to it during all seasons of the year.

It first started with the visit of professionals asking, “Where can I make a difference on you? “

Yes, she had no option but to look better for the man who she was committed to, “Just hurt me,shape me,cut me,change me. Mould me into a desirable model!”

They broke down some of her walls,chopped down the trees which which overflowed with fruit and fury flowers in the Spring and Summer, trampled on the secret places that were memories in her heart which were built by the little children, and blocked streams which used to moisture her very soil.

Her heart started to crack and she started to bleed into the core of the earth. The memories she held were no longer admired and pleasured by man, but the one little child - now older but still pure at heart- remembered her : “Don’t worry. I still remember you. To me you will always have the beauty which you were originally made of!”

She started weeping. She realised what man had done to her. Seeing the struggle which she went through and never complained; never fought nor did she run away.

Man might have changed her externally, but they couldn’t change her within, “ If only we could burn her down! burn away her imperfections and build her up from scratch again”

They complained about her lack of conformity, but she never let them change her beliefs, love for people or the way she saw the world.

Standing at ground level, the little children in her memories could only see bushes and shrubs outside, but running up the stairs and into her mind and looking through the windows in her head, they saw the world in a different way. They saw it as beautiful and the view from up there left them in awe.

The young girl felt guilty for the wrong that man had done to her after seeing the love she had for the world. She wept. Yes, she dreamt of her. She felt happy being in her and always remembered what the house had done for her. She secured the little girl during storms and from angry and lustful wolves. She acted as a sense of comfort and rest for the young lady and allowed the best memories to take place within her belly where her and her family came together to huddle up, eat, rest and find comfort.

Man forgot what she had done for them, the love she had for them, the memories she stored for them and her willingness to forgive and have mercy on them.

The first Cleo I regressed as a hypnotherapist, was a dark, inviting, lithe and handsome creature, full of that indefinable Mediterranean fire and flair, and she emitted pheromones that made every male within a 3- block radius drool with lust for her, er, I mean, ‘luv’, er I mean..., heck, you know what I mean... I thought she was an irritating little twirp when I first met her... She would annoyingly tug at my shirt-sleeve whenever she had a question and would rarely stop talking... But, I grew to like her, a lot, a real lot! I made it quite clear to her, that I would regress her as a friend, and not as a client, ‘cause I felt a romantic interest in her... We became fond friends and lovers of a sort..., don’t ask..., please just don’t ask... We discovered we both had a ravenous thirst for dancing, and every week we would regularly dance the night away, smoking cherry-flavoured cigarillos, and drinking Khalua Liquor, interspersed with wine spritzers for her and Johnny Walker Black for me...
---
I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to hold her in my arms and twirl her around the dance floor, or just gyrate rhythmically opposite each other, often imitating the primitive urges of the San peoples of our native Africa, and the oldest inhabitants of our planet, making moves our European counterparts would find awkward to emulate... I would bury my nose in her nape and drink long and deep from her mysterious life-force...
Aaahhh, that was the life...
---
To day, as I think of her, some tears stream down my lonely countenance,
Oh, how I miss her...

---


One day, with the saddest expression on her face, she asked me:
“Doc, do you love me?”
I could not lie to her,
“No,” I replied, “but you’re definitely a soul-mate, I think that if I fell in love with you, our relationship would become viscous and gooey, whereas now, its magnificent and free, and very Hawaiian, I can kiss you passionately in front of another woman and five minutes later, I can kiss her, and we have no problems, but the moment I tell you that I ‘love-you’, then I will become your slave and the beautiful relationship we now have would soon wither away and end bitterly...
The most forlorn expression crossed her face, for just a mirage of an instant, then she grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor...
I felt like the biggest jerk...
---
A couple of years later, I did fall deeply in love with her,
And I asked her to marry me, and told her how much I was in love with her,
But, once again, with the saddest expression on her face, she replied:
“Doc, how can I ever believe that you’re not doing this out of pity for me?”
She had wisely never forgotten the cavernous wounds my words inflicted on her that night not so long ago...
---
To day, as I think of her, some tears stream down my lonely countenance,
Oh, how I miss her...

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 ?