Last Commented Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

I found peace amongst the darkening skies
Soon stars will whisper night times lullabies
The worries the stress the everyday mess
Making a way for nights gentle caress
A moment a minute in time who knows
Time to relax and just let it all go
Just me breathing in the fresh night air
Done worrying about everyday cares
The body relaxes the mind lets go
Time to forget all life's little woes
Shadows playing in moon lights swaying dance
Holding me fixed in the gentlest trance
Sleep will come and tomorrow will be here
The futures not mine but always seems near


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My very first woman in life –
I didn’t view her all at once,
I didn't see how petite she was
Until I got somewhat grown up.
She used to take me to museums,
To listen to Colonne orchestra,
Where little fellow man of hers
Pretended he was having fun.

Oh she sang, my mother,
Often sang the songs,
Songs of yesterday,
Sang the songs of past.

My very first woman in life -
One day she took me to the school.
A shiny schoolbag in my grasp,
I had a scarf wrapped all around.
Have met some good and nasty men,
Learned to dot i’s, been bruised in face.
He was sometimes a lonely one -
The second man of the mama.

Oh she sang, my mother,
Often sang the songs,
Songs of yesterday,
Sang the songs of past.

My very first woman in life -
I left her once to be a man.
It’s always morning in the fall -
A time when children leave their nest.
It’s always in a rainy morning,
It’s often for another woman …

Oh she sang, my mother,
Often sang the songs,
Songs of yesterday,
Sang the songs of past.


La première femme de ma vie

La première femme de ma vie
Je ne l'ai pas vu tout de suite
Je n'ai vu qu'elle était petite
Qu'après avoir un peu grandi
Elle m'emmenait dans les musées
Quelques fois au concert Colonne
Où son gentil petit bonhomme
Faisait semblant de s'amuser

Elle chantait ma mère
Elle chantait souvent
Des chansons d'hier
Des chansons d'avant

La première femme de ma vie
Un jour m'a conduit à l'école
Emmitouflé dans un cache-col
Armé d'un cartable verni
J'ai connu les bons, les méchants
Les points sur les i, sur la gueule
Il était quelques fois bien seul
Le deuxième homme de maman

Elle chantait ma mère
Elle chantait souvent
Des chansons d'hier
Des chansons d'avant

La première femme de ma vie
Je l'ai quittée pour être un homme
C'est toujours un matin d'automne
Que les enfants s'en vont du nid
C'est toujours un matin de pluie
C'est souvent pour une autre femme

Elle chantait ma mère
Elle chantait souvent
Des chansons d'hier
Des chansons d'avant

The Dream

As old age progresses

I do not want to walk alone,
In front of, or 3 paces behind

I would like to walk side by side
Through life’s ebbing journey

To hold hands in fond embrace,
Touching hearts with the deepest of feelings within

Wanting an entwinement of happiness
A happy companion spirit with a person
Of desire!

To be smiled upon while looking into the depths
Of endearing eyes.

Is it still possible to share the bounty of one’s fading days?

To win
The Impossible Dream!

Confused Poet
Dream not of the Past!

JimEee

August 29
Michael Jackson's Birthday
He was born in 1958 in Gary, Indiana
He was it back in 1983 moonwalking and exciting people
I bought his album Thriller
He has had so many good songs
His first number one single as a solo artist was Ben
He had Janet Jackson sing on his song PYT (Pretty Young Thing)
"PYT's repeat after me sing La La La (la la la)"
Man in the Mirror was my favorite off his Bad album
Black or White was the best off the Dangerous album
History had a touching song "You Are Not Alone"
They say if you want to be professional at something
It takes three hours a day
Michael was said to take around 10 hours a day
Practicing his dance moves and singing
It is a shame his music didn't play on the radio till after he died
Now he is remembered for his great work
His great love of his fans
His great spirit

Menhirs here, stand erect like obelisks of fire,
evoking immortality of man's prehistoric desire,
rising proud conveying faith's silent devotion,
in stately awe, everlasting as the ocean,
Thus, amid Carnac's antique landscape's scene,
listened I, to time's long forgotten paean
relate ancient stories, its well spun tale
of captive lyrics, e'er weave woven magical,
lilting soft the voice, its powered store
ply, hypnotic mists that floating soar
in graceful waves to kiss high elysian heaven,
lingering long as twilight's embroidered even'
of star freckled fire erupting sky,
captures sweet the faith by ear and eye,
rising here in all its historic scenery,
nestle the lowland plains of noble Brittany,
time etched, secluded in unfathomable antiquity,
wave vapourous washed by climate changing sea,
yet, still honoured bright, erect and still,
breathes immortal breath's unmolested thrill,
a monument of time in stone unquivering line
through proud radiant centuries, here recline,
'gainst winds, rains, winter's flood e'er rude,
conquer time's harsh odds, stands man's tribute.

For the words that never say
For the time that you missed it
For the moment that I wanna go back

For forgivness before you say sorry
For forever time I had been waiting
For the memories that you can only remember

and for the word "I love you"
is for you

Growing up in the early years of the depression of the 1930's left an indelible impression upon my mind and soul.

There is a harshness to life and you have to roll with the punches. For he that does not try to keep his head above water … will surely drown.

~ Do not covet your neighbors wife or possessions~

Want them not ~ but work for your own wife and possessions and someday they will be a blessing!

Life is not a bowl of cherries
So enjoy what you have and try to do better!

Buy what you can afford and do not get in debt for the pleasures of life. Save for a rainy day and work for what you want out of your life.

Remember life is not forever and enjoy it while you may!

Seeing hardships all around sends a message that your life wasn’t always as bad as someone else’s.

To make due with what you have and improvise for what you don’t. To know that a little work won’t hurt you and a lot of work will help you to enjoy some of lives pleasures.

Not to be jealous of those that have and to enjoy the little things in life that are here. Work harder for those precious things that we really want and not just to have them to show off to your neighbor.

Enjoy the awakening of the light of the day! Be part of the sounds of birds singing & nature becoming alive.

Watch the early bird’s lesson at work getting his fill of worms before the morning is done. It’s rituals of becoming awake and getting the jump on the world.

See a deer at dawn munching upon the leaves of your birch tree and then nibbling upon a special patch of grass below.

See a baby rabbit hopping around near your back door, with your car near bye where he can run under and hide when trouble comes his way.

Watch squirrels run around chasing each other with little ones on their minds.

A groundhog lifts his head and stands at attention looking around to avoid trouble. He sees none and goes back to eating his meal nibbling upon the grasses of his choice.

Watching the grass and weeds growing in your front yard and knowing that you must cut the lawn before the weed invaders overrun your grass.

Enjoying the music of mother nature as it tip toes through a splendid day! Enjoying life and be glad to be a part of it and of being alive!

Oh! All ye Poets on this earth,
ply the ink with emotions worth,
pen poetic voice constantly anew
from a spirit that lives in Heaven too,
thereby scents of 'Elysian Fields' consume
to converse with stars and lunar moon,
scribe powered words, oft thunderous,
balanced by lilting charms most wondrous,
e'er mimic the whispering waves of leaves,
for each readers eyes so to please
'neath the blushing skies subtle tinted,
meander amongst the Musk Rose scented,
for this flowering beauty e'er has got
a perfume, that ties the lovers knot,
loitering where the nightingale sing
fond lyrics, that lovers together bring
in a blaze of melodious and rare truth,
no syllable written harsh nor uncouth,
just ink bound scribed divinities,
revealing love in all its mysteries.

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.

How great thy vista to my eyes abound
when late of time, I viewed my Southland down,
fond childhood memories bid my heart recall,
times, when all the trees seemed so tall,
but now, the burning coals of fading day,
ignite twilight moments, where magic colours play,
and yon not forgotten village nestling lies
harmoniously, beneath its genial skies;
its people's thatch and heavens spire
are gently washed by sunsets living fire,
whilst graveyards cherished ancient Yew
reach down to kiss the coloured painted dew,
and evening primrose dwell within its shade,
sport contrasting hues with subtly displayed,
and all that sleep in hedgerows wild,
live freely, like as the spirit of a child,
whose innocence breathes the air of play,
of rapturous joy, like this ebbing edge of day,
to await morning's green mantle care,
as day dissolves, in all its wondrous flare,
such artistry each captured rainbow bring
the blushing tints of sweet remembering,
woolen clouds, there floating charms interlace
the chasing sun, warmth of time's everlasting grace.
So, when the breath of life's no more,
my spirit shall stay by the waters of the Stor.