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Melody Mann Feb 26
They stand like folding memories,
rising to bid the conscious farewell.
in this illusive state she ponders,
praying for the retention of a familiar.
sigh.
each exhale releases an ache,
for its return is unclear.
holding onto a thread she walks,
following a trial of fear and wishes;
together. it's a promise.
Michael R Burch Aug 2020
Remembrance
by Michael R. Burch

a coronavirus poem

Remembrance like a river rises;
the rain of recollection falls;
frail memories, like vines, entangled,
cling to Time's collapsing walls.

The past is like a distant mist,
the future like a far-off haze,
the present half-distinct an hour
before it blurs with unseen days.

Published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: coronavirus, remembrance, memory, memories, recollection, time, rain, river, mist, haze, blurs, past, present, future
Xaela San Jun 2020
Tranquility in the silence of the evening

A maiden walks in the garden with her night gown

Illuminating moonlight touching her bare face

She reminiscence her almost forgotten past

While thinking deeply, her thoughts influenced her mind

As stories of the past unfold before her eyes

The unreachable past can be felt in the heart

Chapters of her life, feelings hidden, resurfaced

Sweet as a nectar from blooming flowers of spring

A story where tears are evidence of sorrow

Memories serene like the quiet winter's night

Joy and sadness she experienced made her now

This brought upon a faint smile in her once frowned lips.
~Who else randomly recall memories at night?
~Does reminiscing the past makes you nostalgic or sad?
~Does it help you sleep or makes you stay up all night?

The silence of the night helps me remember something in he past that either makes me happy, laugh, cry, sad or feel nostalgic. Sometimes thinking deeply makes me stay up late but also help me learn from my past actions. The regrets, the mistakes, the decisions, the reasons, the joy, the disappointments, the sorrow: It made me who I am now and put me to the path I take today. I guess it made me: Much stronger and better than before. XS

{12-syllables by line}
Let me introduce myself
I'm Robert K. Wesson,
Sgt. Retired
I like to say the K was for killer,
But, in fact it was for Knowlton
I have no idea why,
Nobody in our family named that, as far as I know.
Anyway, that's out of the way.
35 years served. Can't give away anymore information than that, it's a national secret. I can say, I can cook a mean chipped beef for 1100 men though.

I served in WWII, lost a lot of friends. I'm 97 years young now, as they like to say. I don't, I gave up counting years ago when I lost my wife, but, folks round here like to put on a show every year I get closer to 100. They wheel a cake into me, have me blow out the candles and then I head down stairs to the commissary for a beer. A light beer mind you, but, still a beer. Anything harder messes with my meds.
Personally, I think they give me the beer to shut me up, puts me to sleep in no time. I'm on pills for blood pressure, diabetes, headaches, one to make me ***, one to make me ****. Won't get into those now, rather unsavory things to chat about.

As I said, I served in the big one, came back relatively unscathed. No physical issues that I know of, but, mentally, I saw things no one should. Things that stay with you for ever. I wasn't front line per se, but, I can't tell you what I did, it's a national secret. I can say though, 100 loaves of bread, I can do that....no trouble at all.
Around here, I'm Grampa Bob, or Gramps, depending on who is working. Not many from my generation here now. Oh, here? I'm at a military home outside of Kingston. Some days, it's great, others, I wished I was gone years back. I wish I was gone in the war sometimes, but, then I would never have met my wife and had the fantastic life I did have. No kids, but, we made do.
Met her once I came home. But, that's another story. Wished I'd gone first though, tough watching her pass, cowardly to say, but, it was rough. I came in here after that. Was having trouble sleeping, concentrating, and generally couldn't take care of myself.
Seems strange a man who could do what I could, I can't tell you though, National Secret and all.  But I could field strip my weapon in the dark in a windstorm, and make stew for 1100 men no sweat.
Well, I came here, before I burned out the house. The local fire department got tired of coming out I guess, made a few calls, and here I be. Sold the house, made enough to do ok here, what with my pension and all too.
I'm not one for reading too much, eyes aren't the best anymore, and my hands, well the arthritis flares up and I can barely move some days. There's a computer in the common area we can use, but, I know all I need to know, and some things I wished I didn't.
Never got used to television, especially after it switched to colour. I didn't get the jokes, and the cop shows? I had the murderer figured out in the first ten minutes, why couldn't they figure it out?
Back to here. I'm an early riser, always was. Get up, shuffle to the sink to do my teeth before they come in and give me the whole whang dang doodle wash and wax to get me ready to face the day.
I used to go to the crafts classes here. They were ok, but, a man only need so many fake leather wallets with horses on them. After all, I've nobody to really give one to. If you want one, let me know, I've lots. Did a few of the Christmas trees in ceramics, but, after a while, I lost interest. The wife loved having the trees around, but, without her, it's not the same. Made about 7 or 8, let the nurses have those.
The nurses, great kids. Not the same as the ones we had in the war. Those....well, those were nurses. They could do anything needed, field strip a rifle, put in an IV under fire, drive a jeep, all without getting those starched white uni's ***** or blood stained. And...without losing their caps. Nurses today? good kids, but, not as tough in my book. Things have changed a lot, no uniforms like the old days, pretty casual, and 5 nurses to do what one would do in one quick visit. Now, 5 nurses, 2 hours to do what?
Anyways, I hear one coming now, so I best go. I know it's not my birthday, and VE day was the other day, so, must be tests again for something. I'll be here if you need a wallet remember, lots to go around. Hope to talk soon,
Just ask for Gramps, they'll get you here.
Steve Page May 2020
I spent my day breathing life into my memories.

I often walk or sit among them.
I give them
the attention they ask for
to maintain their roots.

I administer
the moisture they desire
to retain their colour
their scent.

I know they aren't
what they used to be
but they grow with me
and give me hope
for more
more beauty
more life
and more to live for.

I spent my day with my memories.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Remembrance
by Michael R. Burch

Remembrance like a river rises;
the rain of recollection falls;
vague memories, like vines, entangled,
cling to Time's collapsing walls.

The past is like a distant mist,
the future like a far-off haze,
the present half-distinct an hour
before it blurs with unseen days.

Published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: remembrance, memory, memories, recollection, time, rain, river, mist, haze, blurs, past, present, future
Lost Jan 2020
Firework flash
Behind my eyes
A memory erupted
Lighting my conscious sky

Intrusive image
Bursting bright
A memory of you
Comes into my mind
Constantly redirecting my thoughts. I feel like everything reminds me of things better left in the past.
John H Dillinger Sep 2019
The end of another season
wearing t-***** in October,
from a year long binge
I start to sober.

The forest gives its last display of colours
then, leaves drop
so, on the otherside you can discover
what was hidden there all along, by the luscious green:

your bare bones
your trunk, your spine;
the branches of time,
intertwined.
from October 2018 after a year on the wind of desire.
neth jones Aug 2019
evening beds the daytime

chronicle

gather in toward yourself

the care and benefits of the day span


Welcome Vessels and Vessels go

It’s made overly complex

But Satellites ;

Are not we all ?


In jeopardy

a froth at sea

we raft together

like a healing tangle

once we are tossed to shore

we dismiss our gratitude

comb out our hair

and rebuild a dignity


we structure a calendar

scribe in the journal

and orate ourselves

a branded new history
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