Hanna Jordan Oct 2014
All of the memories came crashing
in like a wave
I reached my arms out to
         grab them
                 to catch them
                         and hold them close
but I ended up drowning...
              
                        -H.H.
We are weaved together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
CK Baker Feb 2017
There were dividing lines
between springfield
and mariners gate
soft, subtle lines
that spoke of origin
and code
and biting union

it was all
the reason
for being ~
to be alive
and living
dead or dying
deep in a pack
of pint size resistors
hell bent on the
marsh crow
and cannabis tower
jumping the rush
with pot shots
and anchors
and tribunals

camouflage creepers
and transient floaters
marked rebellion at the gates
(skullduggery and taunt
high on their favor list)
jack straws and flat paddles
for the evening charade
beakers and flailing hands
from the foot washing baptist
(the pleasant street conservatives with their
own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”)

there's a
lingering effect
to this sentiment
(evident in the pump house stride)
the river winds
blow gently
into the night
and the huddling packers
and scat backs
chase the evening hours

it’s a bitter sweet
end of an era ~
those traction bars
hood scoops
and nickel bags
will always
be the rage
forged in the likeness of you
the whisper meanders in my memory bank
it dances softly on a burgundy velvet glove
that covers my wrinkled hand
it visits me in deepest dreams
and speaks in hushed tones
of the infinite days ahead
when we shall once again dance together

forged in the feeling of you
I live each day like the last
holding onto the past
like a cat with a caught bird
not allowing it to die
waking to the sounds of winter winds
and old favorites on the radio
the ones we listened to together
so many years ago
those years that forged a love so strong
that I rarely blink twice
without the thought of you dancing by
12/2006 slightly revised
Dhia Awanis Oct 2016
Never thought I'd listen to Kodaline,
as I walk down the Memory Lane

Oh, Clementine
For when I was with you I've always been sane
You said you'd be at nine
But since you were no longer mine,
I spent all night with you in my mind
And glasses of champagne on my hand

Oh, Clementine
It's hard for me even to draw a line
Letting you go costs insanity I can't define
With countless loss of dopamine
But I guess if you're fine
I'd do my best not to intervene

Oh, Clementine
February 14th you're no longer my Valentine
Driving through the sreets I ran out of gasoline
But the time is due and I've come to the deadline
While sighing 'I'm done'
I know it's time for me to be gone
LexiSully Dec 2016
Oh the fun we had as little six year olds,
Laughing loudly and acting crazy,
Staying up till the wee hours laying on the floor watching Hairspray

Oh the hyper times we had as ten year olds,
Sipping a little too much caffeine,
Running around acting like animals in the front yard

Oh the crazy times we had as twelve year olds,
Not afraid to get down and dirty,
Camping and sliding down dirt in the ravine

Oh the terrifying times we had as fourteen year olds,
Living together for a whole week,
Trying to kill each other with words shortly after

Oh the bonding times we had as fifteen year olds,
The darkest time in my life,
Where we cried and I knew we would always be friends

Oh the lively times we had as sixteen year olds,
Both getting our licenses,
Driving around everywhere just to take fun pictures

Oh the tiresome times we had as seventeen year olds,
Sitting in your car before school,
Ranting and laughing about every aspect of life

Oh the amazing times yet to come,
Attending college and growing older,
Still talking and ranting and laughing like every time before.
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