Nostalgia Poems (1,152)

It is evening now.
And the cold wind blows away
The words from my lips
I cannot distract my mind
From thinking.
Once upon a time
In my old house
There lived a man,
Who was a part of me .
He lived as many summers
As many winters I did .
And we were called WE...
WE cannot be found now
In the crowd
Anymore.
When winter comes
All that happened before
Is happening again.
As if the calendar has all the numbers
Backwards,
The watch stops
And the time do not run at all .
Have you heard how time sounds?
How does it sing?
And how silent it can be
For centuries?
He lived as many summers
As many winters I did. .
And we were called We...

split like smoke
and orange peel
confessions to Mary
river delta woman
chained x chained
celluloid reels
blue field lines
victory under flag

deep water whiskey
running with ice
funnel me back Jack
time and tapestry
to the gunslinger age
pearl handled
vigilantes
comes the preacher
with the good book
read me a passage padre
one for all the fools
the world suffers
all this bullet and bounty
dead in the county
count them, count them
until the dark raven circles
surround your eyes
turning the pages
slowly, slowly
fold, fold
for the night

Rubber and tin
tonic and gin
deep in Malaya
Wallace rose
to the sight
of Atkins
parading
like the Sultan's emissary
towards his hut
No finer man
could he have procured
for such a mission
he determined,
resolutely confident
amongst his peers.
"A day for the cool of the hills Wallace"
"Indeed Sir" he responded, "'tis destiny that finds us at the mercy of this wretched jungle but we shall overcome the odds my good man"
He drank from the rainwater vessel before they set off for the interior.
On a rise they took view of the valley plateau that ran from the river to the distant mountains, green with wild fruit trees and rice paddies.
"The objective Atkins is to wrestle a lease from these inhabitants, should they be disposed to entreat us so, we must give the impression that the Sultan has allied with us in spirit my man, that these lands are bound for greater duty to humanity"
Atkins stared at the hills, the prospect amused him as it had when presented by Wallace's predecessors.
"A vision it is Wallace" he replied somewhat unctuously
"A vision it is"

The riverboat eased downstream Wallace resting
on sacks of fruit, he cursed his boots as his feet swelled.
Two laconic barefoot fishermen squinting in the evening light
ran lines into the opaque waters.
He could observe the jungle expanse from his post,
verdant and vined, primitive noises and life, it seemed neither friend nor foe.
At least he had met Atkins, who he trusted with jungle lore, and despite his
apparent predilection for opium, he knew Atkins had sway with the village elders, and could muster men to a cause. Tomorrow they would set out across the flats towards the hills, with rifles, supplies, water and quinine.

I idly moved the curtain
and through the screen
I watched
Wallace's rigid frame
retreating stoically
midship
along the village road.
Making haste for the water
he glanced disdainfully
at the unkempt girl
corralling chickens
while the clove drawing
cigarette man
eyed him suspiciously
from a hut doorway
above the river.
Is it not God's will
he murmured to himself
that I should bring
a civilizing influence
to this damned outpost
of heat and destitution.
All three before him
had yielded to the mission
all missing in action
yet the company still
believed in rubber
believed in Wallace
and the empire
upon which the sun
never sets.

In the shadow of the Raj
the afternoon delight
smoking opium
reclined in the hills
with Wallace
from the company
who through the haze
winked at me
as the Thai girl
brought in the tea

Wallace knew rubber
as I knew the jungle
we had fashioned
an alliance of sorts
as men do
in arduous conditions
"My good man"
as he was wont to declare
bristling with Etonian accent
downplayed his intentions
a disingenuous disguise
his virtues being few
"there is much to be done,
the world awaits Sir"

I took the hot tea
and considered the prospect
of rubber, men and machetes

Din Guardi

© D Heckels


The only memorial of all that is told
are of sieges and valorous chieftains of old
from that bleak rocky throne in magnificent pride
Din guardi stands with its secrets it hides

Bard divint tell ya tales aboot ya divinatory dreams
Merry Cole was a king but may not be as it seems
and Arthur round his table? that’s not clear to see
did they dance a jig to the fiddlers 3



Did they thank you kind Sir Oswald for that plate of meat so fine
did Aiden in his blessing foresee you in a shrine
did they take your hand in friendship but surely not your arm
they came to you in hunger not to cause you any harm.



So if all that is said was so much more than just a dream
did Lance give his guard to Jenefer the queen
or was it with Elaine such a joyous time was had
who bore him such a child as the mighty Galahd



Will you ever give the answers let us know from whence they came
will we find them in your body will we find them in your name
From that bleak rocky throne in magnificent pride
Din Guardi boldly stands with its secrets it hides

Silently fall soft snowy bride,
Beneath cold waning moon,
Adorn our naked countryside,
Like white confetti strewn.

Tonight to meet her beau Jack Frost,
She'll wear his sparkling gems,
Lace glinting dress and veil embossed,
With diamond studded hems.

So many joys can Winter bring,
In frozen mystery,
To celebrate our new born King,
Bright star of history.

Young children dance 'neath snow clad roofs,
They sence how Santa's near,
While soon to trace fresh track of hooves,
From his red-nosed reindeer.

I long to see white postcard sights,
Amid sub-zero wind,
Then under lonely Christmas lights,
Pray for lost souls that sinned.

I am not a poet but feel like I want to write one.
I am not a singer , but feel like I want to sing a song.
I am not a musician but feel like I want to play a musical instrument.
I am not an author but feel like I want to write a book.
I am not a magician but feel like i want to do magic.

I pause here and think that if I carry on like this ,
This will be even more boring and long.!

I want to do lots of things but I don’t know how .
Actually I can’t do much but to envy others for the talents they possess.
They share their talents and brightens our lives,
Brings a smile to our faces,
Makes us think ,
Makes us curious .

I am not a poet, so why am I writing this in this forum.
I am not a poet and this is not a poetry.