Nostalgia Poems (1,152)

It won’t take long
Not on the 12.42
It only has one stop
But oh! The view

Make sure you have your bag
That one where I wrote on the side
“Thanks for nothing”
I know you consider that sarcasm
But oh! The view

I packed all your things
A bottle of jealousy
That big can of bitterness
Your box of greed
Oh and not forgetting
A trunk full of hatred
I know they weigh heavily
But you carry them so well

Did you take that picture?
The one where I am smiling
I think I took it tomorrow
Never mind, I will post it on
I am sure you left a stamp
Its here somewhere
Buried amongst all the scars

The geese will get there quicker
For they carry no baggage
I think you forgot your toothbrush
But I will post it on, with the picture
I took tomorrow
Whilst you think of the view

I know you are constantly checking
But it definitely says “One way only”
Make sure your seat is by the window
Don’t the geese look superb?
Maybe one day they will return
For they carry no baggage
They just enjoy the view

What care I for your ill’s
It wasn’t I
That made you board the train
I only bear the guilt
For buying the ticket
Did you enjoy the view?

Hath not one touch heart,Its by glimpse only you....
Dwelth the corner for all,In you found some true.
And thou all generous felt,Why early did not make....
But was every night alone,And also the morn when wake.

And never thee one near all,May found as one likes....
Beneath the feet all stunned,you were like of so nice....
And thee flying up in clouds,thine feathers turned as wings....
And my heart got mend all,You are song i miss to sing.

Dear Poet

Sleepless night
tonight

though calm

(and a wonderful feeling of peace)
~

… releasing
one's creative vision
in the morning /

letting it fly
letting it breath
letting it exist as an entity separate
from oneself

engaging it
in conversation

becoming friends /
fellow soldiers
on metaphysical battlefields

Twisting fantasies together
in the night

seeking
degrees
of understanding

… and letting the rest
remain
a mystery.

~

… to touch your face
in some deep, dark mystery …
to touch your shoulders,
to hold your hips against my hips
and to share
a soldier's heat
a soldier's mind
a soldier's night

~

I love
leaving
the office
in the day,
and seeing people …

I love smiling
when I'm with them …

I love trying
to give them the energy
I feel inside … and the happiness.


Einstein believed that the universe is curved /
If you look
far enough out
into space …
you'll see the back of your head /

It's the same
with energy … and happiness … even knowledge /
when you give these things
to another,
a renewal-of-spirit
begins
inside you …

the ever-balance
the ever-dance
the ever-poem
written
around you

the ever-poem
written
inside you

and the madness … in check /

safe

whispered

dark

(seeking
a sense of order. -creativity exists within a sense of order)

~

Clarity

~

There is nothing we can wish for … or strive to possess / or become …that is
not
already
inside us.

~

(Pause)

~

Night
has turned to morning … wine
has turned
to coffee /

only the candlelight
remains
from last night … and, of course, the jazz.

~
<BR>
I should close.

I will write more soon.

(I closed my eyes
last night, and dreamt of you /
we were both naked
we were both
allowing the other
complete access
to our bodies … you were so warm, and sensual.

I must close, poet
write soon.
SAS
~

~*~"Prayer is humbleness, I cannot be humble with the wealth of you beside me" ~Walter Benton~

Frozen moments in time
Shatters like glass
A window of our exsistance into the unknown
Our destination of design awaits within
With a voice we will rise with our hearts we cry
Is it lack of faith or just excuses for lack of inspiration
For what we have and what we always take
But eventually like monuments we will whither and crumble away

We sit upon a log
to allow our souls
to catch up with us

We have been traveling
a long time.

Behind us
are forests of books
with pages green as leaves.
A blood sun stares
over the horizon.

Our souls are slow.
They walk miles behind
our long shadows.

They do not dance.
They need all their strength
merely to follow us.

Sometimes we run too fast
or trip climbing
the rotten rungs
in life's ladder.

Our souls know
it leads nowhere.

They are not afraid
of losing us.


~SAS~

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.

What will I see
When I get to the garage sales
I took a trip to Lancaster
About 17 miles from Platteville, Wisconsin
I saw this house, shed and car covered in words
I stopped to see what he had written
I could only stay for a short while as he came out with his dog
He doesn't like the president or dumb people
So I get to my first garage sale
The woman remembered me buying tapes a few years ago
I told her one tape of Shania Twain broke my tape player
Cost me 270 bucks to fix it
I bought some golf balls
A book about 10 men that will ruin your life
A stuffed snowman with a throw blanket
A chippette doll
A Darth Vader mask
Both for my great niece and nephew
A book about memorable moments on tv from All In The Family
To sports and other stories like the OJ Trial
A DVD on Ernest in the Army
Lots of fun people to meet
You just never know what you will find

How great thy vista to my eyes abound,
when late of time, I viewed mt Southland down,
fond childhood memories bid mt heart re-call,
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 lies
harmoniously beneath its genial skies,
its people's thatch and heavens spire,
are gently washed with sunset's living fire,
whilst graveyards' cherished ancient Yew
reach down to kiss the coloured painted dew,
and evening primrose within its shade
with contrasting hues here 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-mantled care,
as day dissolves in all its wondrous flare,
such artistry each captured rainbow bring
the blushing tints of sweet remembering,
as woolen clouds, their floating charms interlace
the chasing sun, warmth of time, everlasting grace,
So, when the breath of life's no more,
my spirit shall stay by the waters of the Stor.

I will lie right here whilst you tickle my toes,
Prod me with instruments and shove things up my nose,
Wash me all over with cleanser, water and soap,
For me to object there is not a chance or a hope.

You can even have a go at turning me over and around,
Or changing my clothes in my own empty silent surround,
Putting up drips and bags, checking that all is well,
No matter what you do, for the moment I will not tell.

I know you understand that I am very much aware,
I can feel the warmth radiating from every smile or glare,
Everything you give and everything you do or say,
I shall always remember from now until the end of my day.

So when I recover and am walking through a crowd,
And feel or am touched without any sound,
It's the memories you all instilled in your own personal style,
So I am letting you know that whatever you do, it is all worthwhile.

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"