#recall
A huge and shiny mystery box
Sat before me on the floor
It was adorned with shiny locks
Excitement shook me to the core
For many years I had this dream
That I would find the things I’d lost
And now this shiny box would seem
To solve my dream at any cost
I told myself to surely find
The most important item first
So searching deep into my mind
To label all, the best and worst
There was a list of childhood toys
And lovers lost when I was young
The car I raced with all the boys
And Christmases with tinsel hung
The day I found my mate for life
The moment I became a Dad
The life and time shared with my wife
Those times for which I am so glad
I guess we all have lost so much
That placing first the only one
Will be most difficult and such
Must carefully be thought and done
And then I knew, no doubt in mind
That in the box, one choice, no other
From the box I’d search and find
Loving time spent with my Mother
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 10:47 PM UTC
Being alone is
nice, my experiences --
resonate again.
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 2:09 AM UTC
Before the crows sit
on the scarecrow,
I'll have you in remembrance
the path we used to walk.
I feel as if you are in my
aunt's house, being a symbol
illuminating the house.
When I sit alone, the absence
speaks you are alive, but I
had seen the grave.
I cry my heart out on
the bed, will you ever come back?
If your spirit dwells in our genes,
can you still embrace me in your arms?
Oh, my maternal grandma, I miss
your presence, like the old days,
even if I feel you are here.
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 12:21 PM UTC
Drop by drop, the measured melancholy,
Downing secrets from the past.
Tick by tock, each treasured nobody,
Their heartbeats beaten fast.
Hurt by hurt, each regret I will ever own,
My scattered promises, a broken trust.
Death by death, the full stop comes to pass,
Leaving empty spaces upon our paths.
Life by life, such are my memories lost in time,
Those precious moments never meant to last.
Tom Lefort 2025
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 4:46 PM UTC
My past is a story someone else wrote,
And I only have the torn pages—
Fragments without context,
A book with no beginning.
I chase memories like butterflies,
But they slip through my fingers,
Not fluttering away—no,
They were never there at all.
I know I love cartoons.
I know my mother made me a quilt,
Small, soft, still mine—
But now it sits folded away,
Replaced by a newer one,
Just as warm, just as loved.
She remembers when I was small.
She remembers the things I’ve lost.
And maybe that’s enough—
To have proof that I was,
Even when I can’t recall.
But where are the missing pieces?
The laughter in the backyard,
The whispered secrets,
The warmth of a childhood
That should be mine?
I sit with the silence,
Trying to stitch together
A story I was meant to remember.
But all I have are torn pages—
And I don’t know how the story goes.
Feb 1, 2025
Feb 1, 2025 at 12:51 AM UTC
Moxie?
I seen that once in a museum
next to the floppy
good old human beings
price of admission doesn't seem worth the plot
thank the poppys I was born a bot!
Jun 7, 2024
Jun 7, 2024 at 10:41 PM UTC
I feel something missing from me
I have this empty, icy chest cavity
Where a something should absolutely be
But for the life of me
I can't think of what the contents use to be
I can't recall what I used to see
Back in the day when I looked in the mirror,
And the mirror looked back at me
I think it was something important ultimately
But there's definitely nothing there now so how important could what was there be,
I mean really
It doesn't appear to be a necessity
Maybe it was just an option in the creation recipe
Just figured since I'm working to put myself back together,
This time completely
I'd focus on the biggest vacancy
But I guess I'll just leave it be,
At least until it starts affecting me
We'll just have to wait and see
©2024
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 1:21 PM UTC
I feel safer somewhere cold and dark
Like my lonely, ransacked heart
At times it has played the part
Tucked behind a fleshy rampart
Casting a stark silhouette,
Becoming somewhat of a trademark
Can't remember when it lost it's spark
It had to have been sometime, way back,
Before the halfway mark
The memory gets a bit hazy,
Especially when trying to recall the start
What I get to deal with now is,
Just how quickly it all fell apart
©2024
Mar 23, 2024
Mar 23, 2024 at 8:50 PM UTC
Far away from the world's delusions,
I found this empty bench;
Unattended, it lay there,
temping none, but a chirpy bird
She did ponder, then she sang oh so well
that the falling leaves could dance along!
Such an aura, the place was lit
I wish if this could go incessant
Here it came, those iridescent flashbacks,
that brought me back a memory stream;
"I know this bench, I know this place,
this is where we held our hands!"
The dimensions of time were so unkind,
it brought me back to the exact place;
The subtle radiance, it hit my eyes,
Where is she, with her sparkling eyes?
The friendly breeze then got eerie,
hit my back, woke me up!
Puffed I felt, shattered thoughts,
the more I stayed, the more it hurt!
Once again, I left our bench,
"Ruthless fate, never here again!"
Back alone, to the world's delusions,
that at least did not break my soul!
Dec 1, 2022
Dec 1, 2022 at 12:42 PM UTC
I've been dragged away
from the edge of the water,
even though I wanted to jump right in
I'd been only swimming
in the shallow corners,
almost learned to let go
and give in
Give in to the waves
let them pull me further from the shore
Give in to the tide,
hear the ocean roar
But something happened then
and I lost my sight of how and when
For a minute I closed my eyes,
thought I was lost at sea,
but when I looked around
there was no water to be seen
Just like someone
came and took my hand
and pulled me far away
off to dry lands
Felt like memory loss,
tried but couldn't remember
why my feet were still so wet
when I was in the centre
of the forest splendour
And sometimes I recall
the memories of the time
when I almost had it all
I was getting so close,
could barely believe
that I had found the purpose of my reality
But not everything works out
Lost sight of my true silhouette
My head has been dry for so long,
but my feet are still wet
Out of place
Out of my mind
Lost in the woods
Lost track of time
Take me back
Now I recall
why my feet are still wet
I can still have it all
I'll drag myself back
to the edge of the water
and jump right in like I was meant to
I'll be swimming away
into the deep end
Giving in to the waves
Giving in to the tide
Giving in to the voices that I've kept inside
My feet are still wet
and now I know why
Aug 12, 2022
Aug 12, 2022 at 6:58 PM UTC
There’s poetry on my walls
Brightening up the halls
I reread one every day
I survey the words as I lay on my bed
Thinking of what I could have written instead
So many words going through my head
In the end, I still place them back up on the wall
Some of them I end up crumpling into a ball
And ripping them off my wall
Then I recall
When I wrote them
And how I felt like a sparkling gem
I tape them back together
Straighten the creases
And taping the pieces
When I look at my wall
I no longer feel small
~21/3/21
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 4:55 AM UTC
When the cold rain enters
it makes me remember
lifetimes of past Decembers
and their nasty embers.
Each drop a designer
momentary reminder
of a recreational resigner's
unchecked timer.
I am not reborn
in the rain's misty scorn
I see Satan's horns
in rain clouds formed.
Sensory recall
makes me fall
into the needle
of a lifestyle fetal
crying for my mommy
of a ****** haunting
my past life is flaunting
through raindrops upon me
their ripples are bombing
my mentality modeling
of the unguarded godly.
Inclement
in descent
in cement
mixed with saline
so I may dream
maiming Maybelline
makes me made to scream
drowning in memory
separating what's ahead of me
with the possible death of me
after a moment of leveling
water brings devil's wings.
I guess I'm like this forever
mainlined or severed
would've been much better
than stuck in the nether
between order and chaos
mortars of raindrops
show where my aim lost
and the insane cost
of the water in the syringe
raining into my veins
so I cry and I cringe
when it rains all the same.
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 9:24 PM UTC
I died as i sip, the last inch drop of memories...
Tasteless, unfragrant, fragmented vacancies...
Recollecting, regulating the blurry negligible visions...
Recalling, rewriting, summarizing the Summaries
It felt like Treachery, disregarding this treasury...
life is a Memory, and then it is nullity...
Or at least that's what the wise man said...
We drown ourselves in each shot and swim out with a sigh
Sometimes with a gloom and sometimes with a smile
But in the end, both fades away,
And oh how quickly they fade away...
As if waves washing away our names written on the shore...
it fades out to presence, to sense another sore
sores, like old chest boxes, we dive deep in each,
swimming into it's memories, bone narrow they breached
like Leeches, we **** on our melancholy as we silently screech
watching pains as days turning to wrinkles, as closer we reach
We build our future, though we live for the past...
We all get obsessed and we all get attached...
We move forward to looking back trying to find a meaning...
But after all, Life is a memory, and then it is nothing...
Or at least that's what the wise man said
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 5:37 PM UTC
A memory is fading
Like a plucked guitar string
Life is like music echoing
Leaving moments of loving
But existence is tough can be distressing
Recall is a flashback jogging
Of those days we we're fooling
Recollection of parties drinking
*** & coke £10 to go clubbing
A memory is a souvenir
Everyday a memory a premiere
Show God's cast a simper
Smiling is like sunshine in summer
Outnumbering grey matter of choler
Make the most of every premiere
May not be what the heart desire
Your smile can lift any soul higher
Transforming the human frontier
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC
I swallowed my saliva
Desiccated air
It was darker than the city
At urban’s edges pretty
First Prize Second
The ringer goes off in sequence
The theme park illuminated
Not with lights but with
The smell of anticipation
Holding our own
Felt like holding someone else’s
Our footsteps
Loud but drummed to the beat of another it paces
The Crusaders mediated
A brawling debut
Of words at the brim
Of our throats in disputes
Our silence
Unlike the night
Was warmer than an Afghan
20 kilometres felt like 2
When I am walking alongside
Hand not in hand
Alongside with you
Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 10:59 AM UTC
words aren't insisting
to be enshrined in poems.
i'm forgetting you
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 4:54 AM UTC
Unseen
Unheard
Yet close to the heart
Everything
Reminds
Me
Of you
You are divine
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
आज तिमी
जस्तै देखे
भन्न मन थियो
म नै हो त्यो
भन्यै भने
बोल्ने शब्द थिएन
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
being of sound mind and body
I must write of the days when I was slightly ******
when I would disappear into the shadows
with headphones
Dark Side of the Moon
or I Robot taking me on journeys
only I could take
my room the isolation tank
Altered States
my mind the well that echoed within
sitar vibrations of an unspoken thought
dreams the night before realized in a wave
of painted sound
when the consciousness of awake and the boundless landscape of sleep
fused with the lost chord
one was as close as one could be to God
on this plane
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 12:24 PM UTC
Knowing what I know today,
I'm torn between honesty,
and never saying anything.
Pulling from my memory,
I recall expression
as a natural efficacy
of mine.
Fill me with love again,
love as the willingness
to speak as easily as
I can accept my errs.
Knowing what I know today,
I'm torn between standing out
and fitting into the crowd.
My slightly younger self,
saw my much younger self,
thought, my far future self
wouldn't have the gall.
My slightly younger self,
saw my much younger self,
thought, my far future self
wouldn't have the gall.
I'm torn between standing out
and fitting in, and surprise,
I did say it again.
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 5:34 PM UTC
Do you remember when time stood still,
and inner child was front and center?
Where hours didn't exist in playgrounds sand
and voice sang in freedom daily even off key.
Do you recall when dreams carried breath,
and self danced alone with morning birds?
Where smiles came easy
and worry alluded present moments.
Do you remember when mother came
reaching to hug and sooth all wounds?
Where life seemed simple
inside fun and games.
I recall it all and pass the ball to you
to celebrate life and
it’s gift inside all phases of expansion.
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 9:32 AM UTC
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 30
BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem
Genuinely am I worthy?
As a divine being?
No, I am unworthy.
But when I fondly recall you,
And chant your name Oh My Beloved’
I undoubtedly remain worthful,
More than divine being and Soul,
As my noble heart and regal soul carefully restored,
With your Divine love Oh My Beloved!
Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem
Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 3:27 AM UTC