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We cannot undo the past in this misguided war in Iraq.

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Doorway Into The Past Years Cannot Face

the doorway of the past may tight seal lead
into memories moments that years cannot face
a great intrigue of mystery myth complexity


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This Despair Will Be Pushed Into The Past By Future

This despair will be pushed into the past

Yesterday was surely tomorrow one day
Definitely tomorrow, today will be yesterday
One day hopefully tomorrow will be today

The past surely was the future one day
Definitely tomorrow the present will be past
One day hopefully the future will be my present

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This Purgatory

Perhaps you have buried truth, for the better good-
I cannot do that any longer, nor would I, if I could.
I am in love with you and wish the world to know-
And would bear any sacrifice needed, to show
You, or anyone else who needed to be convinced.
Should one be not swayed, it is surely evidenced
In the way I gaze adoringly into your eyes,
And become lost in amorous thought, until I realize
That I cannot truly love, if love is not returned.
Though I suppose this purgatory has been well-earned,
After all, you offered me all this love before, but I was not prime,
And was too afeared to realize 'love' does not have a wrong time!
I cannot undo the mistakes of my past,
All I can do is offer you this love, sure to last!

-Maurice Harris,18 August 2011

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The Past

The Past

I live in a cottage that is 350 years old, wish I could have seen a ghost,
because I believe they exist. When I moved in here part of it had been
a stable and on warm nights I can still smell hey and the mule that lived
in what is now my living room. When I first came here ancient voices
emitted from the walls, people who had lived her before had toiled
the soil and lived in poverty. One cannot erase the history of past
generations where people had lived, even if their physical bodies are
no longer here but their souls remain and speak to us if we care to listen.
The cottage seemed content that someone had moved in, no house likes
to be abandoned. New roof, plastered wall voices subsided and waned
altogether, yet on this hot night I do hear sighs, smell the mules sweat.
Is it my imagination only if I see the contour of the animal and see a man
stroking its head? And talking softly.

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The past is not alive

No man can buy back his past
God cannot bring back the past.
The past can be compensated
With a bundle of joys and regrets.
26.05.2009

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Something From The Past

I have something I'd like
to show
Something from the long
ago

Tied with ribbons in the
past
Something from a treasure
chest

Precious pieces interlock,
Like golden threads, in a
frock

Everything comes into
view
you're in this picture too.

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Nobody Can Erase The Past

The memories of the past!
The history of my land,
The love of your muse;
And like lions in the land of peace,
But, be very brave along this narrow path.

Joy,
Peace,
Care;
And like the things we do for love!
However, nobody can erase the past.

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Thing Of The Past

when you know that you dont know
dont you know that you dont know
when you know that you cannot know
you know that you cannot know when you know that you know
it is a

thing of the past

when you know that you know that you dont know
it is a thing of the past

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The Past

Humming around the winter is the past,
This congratulates me as the last.

Years of daily amounts created laughter,
Mostly from seeds sown to glory and slaughter.

My music creates joy, all along and forever,
Lost is the happiness strongly in the endeavour.

May life contaminate the young and old,
Its powers feed us with triumph and gold.

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The Past is Past

The past is gone
As a matter of fact
The mistakes I made
Forgiven, unto Gods' eyes

Why must I be put
To scrutiny
By the ones' who are
Really guilty

I want this position
As a keeper of hearts
To clean the mess
Left only for me

I've traveled that road before
Until I, alone, clashed heads with the boss
Cursed her up and down
Then, apologized
With a sign of the cross

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Leave the Past Behind

When the eyes
Of honest vulnerability are opened,
One will follow
The soundless voice of God
And depart from Egypt
For a renewing place
Like when the child Jesus
Returned to Israel
From Joseph’s protective exile.

Undeviating Light,
May we find our true place
In this existence,
May we leave the past behind
And move forward into the happiness
Of our spiritual destiny.

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Early Works - Shadows Of The Past

My mind is filled with memories
of times gone by
memories some innocent, some hurtful,
some filled with laughter
and some how I used to cry.
There are faces
some of which I do not know
strangers, shadows of the past.
Who are they
and why do they haunt the present me?


9 March 1983

Authors note:
I wrote this poem using the title of a novel I was writing at the time.

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Lucille Clifton

I Am Accused Of Tending To The Past

i am accused of tending to the past
as if i made it,
as if i sculpted it
with my own hands. i did not.
this past was waiting for me
when i came,
a monstrous unnamed baby,
and i with my mother's itch
took it to breast
and named it
History.
she is more human now,
learning languages everyday,
remembering faces, names and dates.
when she is strong enough to travel
on her own, beware, she will.

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I Like Your Silence For The Past Few Days

i like your silence for the past few days
nonetheless,
i am hearing more what you do not have to say
there is this silence of absence
that speaks well of you

there is this fondness that was not there before
there is this whisper that is more patient than the scream
gentler, so filled with wisdom

more beautiful than the routinized hellos
more meaningful than everyday

i guess it is when you speak less
that you speak most wisely.

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There Are Times/ When All The Beauty Of This World

THERE ARE TIMES/ WHEN ALL THE BEAUTY OF THIS WORLD

There are times
When all the Beauty of this world
Is not.
When fear and darkness are all
When inside anxiety reigns
And nothing can help
Against the fear.

There are times
When it seems
Nothing good will ever come again

And in these times
Poetry too seems like empty words
Whose very sound means only
Nothing and more nothing.

There are times
When even a poem
Cannot help.

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The Moon and The Old Willow Tree

Sitting under the silver light of the Moon
Leaning on the Old Willow tree
Watching as the world passes by

Reflecting on our lives

Watching the stars as they remind us of our hopes and dreams
Our triumphs and our loses
Wishing we could go back

To the days when
All
Was simpler

When our lives
Were filled with innocent
Bliss

But we cannot change the past

All that matters now
Is living
In this moment

Sitting under the sliver light of the Moon
Leaning on the Old Willow tree

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The Past Haunts

the past haunts
like poems on repose

do not read them again
but you are not following

your heart bleeds again
and they will have more time laughing

you go back to places of pain
and lick your wounds again

this is your ritual year after year
back to pain again

oh, i see, i know, i get the point
you gain the strength, learning the lessons

of your failures
rising back from where you are falling

nothing kills you
all these are here again, i see, i know

always making you stronger.

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The Past

The Past is flowing through my thoughts—
Flowing like a sea;
With all its billows dancing bright
Over what?—an undermight
Of darkling loss and destiny.
Still it floweth through my thoughts—
Floweth like a sea;
While of worn hope I ask alway,
Like an unsought cast-astray—
What can the future bring to me?

And hope herself admits: To thee
But a darkening scene—
Only slow days of care and doubt,
Only a dreary lengthening out,
Of what this later past hath been.


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The Past Was Goodly Once

The Past was goodly once, and yet, when all is said,
The best of it we know is that it's done and dead.

Dwindled and faded quite, perished beyond recall,
Nothing is left at last of what one time was all.

Coming back like a ghost, staring and lingering on,
Never a word it speaks but proves it dead and gone.

Duty and work and joy--these things it cannot give;
And the Present is life, and life is good to live.

Let it lie where it fell, far from the living sun,
The Past that, goodly once, is gone and dead and done.

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Live In The Past

For those who are destined to live in the past
Each 'What could have been? ' is amassed
To a degree where no other timeframe can last.

'If onlys' overshadow the present so that today
Is doubted, then cursed; finally withering away.
The resulting void means they'll never have a chance
To even hope for a future to unfold and advance.

Not an instant or an inch of the past can be changed.
This is why it's sad for lives the past has rearranged.
For these tragic lives it actually can be said
That with no present or future they're virtually dead.

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