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My memories are inside me - they're not things or a place - I can take them anywhere.

quote by Olivia Newton-John
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Memories

Memories of good times
Memories of bad times
Memories of our love
So many memories

Memories of us crying
Memories of us laughing
Memories of our commitment
So many memories

Memories of us hugging
Memories of us kissing
Memories of those late nights
So many memories

Memories of how we met
Memories of how you left
Memories of what you said
So many memories

Why did you leave me
with so many memories
Did you ever realize
that my memories are yours

Everything we did together
stays within our memories
I remember getting hurt
Do you hurt too

Let's make a new memory
that we can both share
Let's love again
in our memories

poem by Adam McKim
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Memories

Memories
All I have is memories
All I have is memories
Memories of you
Now youre gone
They linger on, these memories
All these precious memories
Memories of you
How they linger in the twilight
In the morning in the small hours
Just before dawn
Memories
Of summer days so long ago
People in the places
That we used to know
Oh those memories
How they linger in the twilight
And in the wee small hours
Sometime just before the dawn
Oh those memories
Oh happy times those memories
All I have now is memories
Memories of you
Oh memories
All those precious memories
All I have is memories
Memories of you

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Memories in the mind

Memories are made in the mind,
and there if you search, you will find.
There in the mind, so many things,
so many memories it brings.

So many years have passed,
of our youth, away we have cast
some memories happy, some memories sad,
memories have I, when I was a lad.

Memories have I, of a dog named shep,
memories of him, when he kept in step.
Memories of my friends, when we played,
of those days, for ever memories relayed.

Memories of family and fun,
when we talked until the setting of sun.
Memories of washing our fifty-seven Ford,
and wanting things we couldn't afford.

Memories are made in the mind,
long lost, search and you will find,
memories of days gone by,
searching memories, oh how you try.

Memories will fade out,
you have forgotton, what it's about,
memories lost in the mind,
dig them out and you will find.

poem by Jim Foulk
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Thanks for the Memories by Fall Out Boy

[Intro]
I'm gonna make it bend and break
(It sent you to me without wait)
Say a prayer, but let the good times roll
In case God doesn't show...
(Let the good times roll)
(Let the good times roll)

[Verse 1]
And I want these words to make things right
But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life,
'Who does he think he is? '
If that's the worst you got
Better put your fingers back to the keys

[Chorus]
One night and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great;
'He tastes like you, only sweeter'!
One night, yeah, and one more time
Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories;
'See, he tastes like you only sweeter'!
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh

[Verse 2]
Been looking forward to the future
But my eyesight is going bad
And this crystal ball
It's always cloudy except for
(Except for)
When you look into the past
(Look into the past)
One night stand...
(One night stand, oh)

[Chorus]
One night and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great;
'He tastes like you only sweeter'!
One night, yeah, and one more time
Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories;
'See, he tastes like you only sweeter'!
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh

[Interlude]
They say
I only think in the form of crunching numbers
In hotel rooms collecting page-six lovers

[...] Read more

poem by Shi Yelami
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Memories

I have nothing but memories of you and I,
I once cried out for you, once shed blood for you,
It didn’t bother or cared enough for you to see how much I truly cared for you,
When I go to the mall I have memories of how we first met,
When I enter the movies I have memories of you and I hold hands and watching a movie,
When I go to a certain spot I have memories of how you and I first kissed,
But this is nothing but memories of you,
When I sit out in the cold,
I told myself I won’t fall for you,
Yet I did,
I have fallen,
Fallen for you,
Everywhere I go I have fond memories of you,
Memories that just won’t fade away,
Memories that can not be erased,
Memories I shall forever keep,
The memories of you will help me out,
Memories of you will teach me a lesson,
A lesson I won’t forget,
The memories that you and I once shared will forever be locked away.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Me & Bobby & Bobbys Brother

Well there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Please take me back to that place
Where Ive got all my memories, those were my happiest days
I remember all the games we used to play
I really do
And I went to see them almost every day
I wanted to
Though we quarrelled at times
And had a few fights
We were the best of friends
We found a place in the sun
To have enough fun
Well there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Wildest kids you could see
We would play together
Climbing the apple tree
Yes there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Please take me back to that place
Where Ive got all me my memories, those were my happiest days
They would take me out for football games and such
They liked to play
And I guess I didnt like it very much
But anyway
I was happy and proud to be with the boys
Being a little girl
I found a place in the sun
A heaven of fun
Well there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Wildest kids you could see
We would play together
Climbing the apple tree
Yes there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Please take me back to that place
Where Ive got all me my memories, those were my happiest days
Well there was me and bobby and bobbys brother
Please take me back to that place
Where Ive got all my memories, those were my happiest days
(got all my memories, those were my happiest days)
Where Ive got all my memories, those were my happiest days
(got all my memories, those were my happiest days)
Where Ive got all my memories, those were my happiest days
(got all my memories, those were my happiest days)
(fade)

song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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Paz Ratna's Spell

Memories, memories
Where are they hiding among memories?
It’s too sweet, it’s so bitter
I can reach you wherever you are

Memories, memories
Where are you hiding among memories?
You can’t change your past
But I can change your memories

Memories, memories
Where are they hiding among memories?
Give me your live
And I'll give you memories

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Source

the Source of ‘Crab Nebula'

'The greats molder in their graves
Their words collect as dust upon their spines
Their hearts do not beat in time with today
and yet, the Spirit calls & you answer
What more can a ‘writer' do'?

(poetic writers are compelled to write
& seldom know why)

Ninth Street

There is a cold water'd house
On a bleak winter'd street
With stale musty stink
Of unwashed sock and sheet
Dirty dishes left still
Standing there in the sink.
Memories drenched in scent
Of kerosene and coal
Christmases without trees
Colored paper or ribbon bows.
Yet ___ there was laughter, warm
and yes ___ love
Her making toast over-done
and coffee too thin for him.
Poverty of wage and things
Cannot suppress the hope
Of loves gentle kiss
As passions
Became a foggy mist
Of what could have been
Instead of what is.

(Genetic Memory of Life before I was)

Curmudgeon

(I did not ask to be born)

Knowing why, doesn't make the search go away
Knowing how, doesn't mean you can stop
There are alternative ways, different days
No one gets to stay forever

There are traps
There are walls

[...] Read more

poem by Donald Goodside
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Memories

Orbison/dees
In a cold december, memories can melt your heart away
In a warm september, you can still remember yesterday
Even in the darkest night when dreams fade away
When your love is gone, youll never be alone in memories
Memories, while walking through a winter snow, memories, when summer breezes start to blow
When true love is far away it may be yours in memories
Memories, while falling leaves just fill the air, memories, when springtime comes and loves not there
Even when you cry, try not to say goodbye to memories
Golden memories can turn the night into day, teach your heart to smile
And live each day a while in memories

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Memories

Im thinkin bout my baby right now,
And Im feelin sentimental.
Shes all I got in my memory,
But it really isnt accidental.
All I have are these memories,
Memories keep haunting me.
All I have are these memories,
Memories keep haunting me.
I think about her though shes gone from me,
And I want to get her back sincerely.
I pray to heaven shes alright tonight,
cause you know I love her, lover her dearly.
But, ...
All I have is this lonely song,
Lonely song Im singin all night long.
All I have are these memories,
Memories keep haunting me.
Oooooo, oooooo, oooooo ...
Oooooo, oooooo, oooooo ...
Oooooo, oooooo, oooooo ...
Oh ...
Oooooo, oooooo, oooooo ...
All I have are these memories,
Memories keep haunting me.
All I have is this lonely song,
Lonely song Im singin all night long.
All I have are these memories,
Memories keep haunting me.
All I have is this lonely song,
Lonely song Im singin all night long.
(to fade ...)

song performed by Grand Funk Railroad
Added by Lucian Velea
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March of Memories

Left, right - left, right . . .
We march today for memories (the grizzled Digger said)
Memories of lost dreams and comrades gone ahead
Comrades bloody war took, dreams that men have slain
(Left, right - left, right . . .) Not ours to dream again.
There was Shorty Hall and Len Pratt, Long Joe and Blue,
Skeet and Brolga Houlihan, and Fat and me and you:
Bright lads, the old bunch; eager lads and keen
That first day we marched down thro' this familiar scene.
Dreams were ours, and high hopes went with us overseas.
(Left, right - left, right . . . ) And now 'tis memories.

We march again for memories (the grizzled Digger sighed)
Memories of lost mates, of foolish hopes that died.
First, Shorty got his issue on the beach at Sari Bair.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) The vision of him there
Brought the dawn of disillusion. I needed little more
To blood me to the butchery, the filthiness called war.
Shorty, like a limp rag, slung there anyhow,
Sprawling on the warm sand like I can see him now.
Always was a merry mate, a rare lad for fun.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) And Shorty, that was one.

We march today for memories; and they come crowding fast
As each year adds another page to the story of the past.
Pratt went west at Mena Base; raved of home and peace.
(Left, right - left, right . . . ) His was a kind release.
For a Lone Pine shell-burst got him; and he was less than man.
'Twas a sniper's bullet bore the name of Brolga Houlihan.
We called him Happy Houlihan, the man who took a chance.
Then the Reaper paused and plotted for the rest of them in France -
Except Long Joe, the luckless, a youth ill-shaped for war.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) And Long Joe was four.

We march today for memories. Little else had we
When we marched home as veterans. Blue and you and me.
For Skeet went with a night raid, and none came back alive.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) So Skeet, he tallied five.
Five gone and four to fight; us and Blue and Fat,
Who vowed he was too big to hit; but a whizz-bang settled that.
Yet Fat was lucky to the end - an end that held no pain.
All hell erupted where he stood; and none saw him again.
And Blue marched, and you marched, and I, a war-torn three.
(Left. right - left, right . . . ) Marched with memory.

We march again with memories (the grizzled Digger spake)
One year? Ten years? How soon shall we awake
To glorious reality? For lately it would seem -
(Left, right - left, right . . .) - we march within a dream.
Where Shorty is, and Blue is, and Happy Houlihan,

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Hope against hope

Hope against all hope
That times will change
A word lingers
In time and place
Softly spoken
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears

Hope against hope
That love will grow
From the embers 
A single spark
Lights the fire again
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears

Hope against hope
Time will soften
A hardened heart
A fractured mind
Bring peace to soul
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears

Hope against hope
That this is  a dream 
I will wake soon
Covered in sweat
Breathing once again 
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears

Hope against hope
That tomorrow is different
Today didn't happen
But it did
Can't change today 
Memories bring tears

poem by Dom Hunt
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One Year, Six Months

Sew this up with threads of reason and regret
So I will not forget. I will not forget
How this felt one year six months ago
I know I cannot forget. I cannot forget
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that I can share with you
I can tell that you don't know me anymore
It's easy to forget, sometimes we just forget
And being on this road is anything but sure
Maybe we'll forget, I hope we don't forget
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that I can share with you
So many nights, legs tangled tight
Wrap me up in a dream with you
Close up these eyes, try not to cry
All that I've got to pull me through is memories of you
Memories of you
Memories of you
Memories of you
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that we can share
Falling into memories of you and things we used to do

song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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One Year, Six Months

Sew this up with threads of reason and regret
So I will not forget. I will not forget
How this felt one year six months ago
I know I cannot forget. I cannot forget
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that I can share with you
I can tell that you don't know me anymore
It's easy to forget, sometimes we just forget
And being on this road is anything but sure
Maybe we'll forget, I hope we don't forget
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that I can share with you
So many nights, legs tangled tight
Wrap me up in a dream with you
Close up these eyes, try not to cry
All that I've got to pull me through is memories of you
Memories of you
Memories of you
Memories of you
I'm falling into memories of you and things we used to do
Follow me there
A beautiful somewhere
A place that we can share
Falling into memories of you and things we used to do

song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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The King of the Vasse

A LEGEND OF THE BUSH.

MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
From angry levin on a fair young tree,
That stands thenceforth a piteous sight to see.
So lives this land to-day beneath the sun,—
A weltering plague-spot, where the hot tears run,
And hearts to ashes turn, and souls are dried
Like empty kilns where hopes have parched and died.
Woe's cloak is round her,—she the fairest shore
In all the Southern Ocean o'er and o'er.
Poor Cinderella! she must bide her woe,
Because an elder sister wills it so.
Ah! could that sister see the future day
When her own wealth and strength are shorn away,
A.nd she, lone mother then, puts forth her hand
To rest on kindred blood in that far land;
Could she but see that kin deny her claim
Because of nothing owing her but shame,—
Then might she learn 'tis building but to fall,
If carted rubble be the basement-wall.

But this my tale, if tale it be, begins
Before the young land saw the old land's sins
Sail up the orient ocean, like a cloud
Far-blown, and widening as it neared,—a shroud
Fate-sent to wrap the bier of all things pure,
And mark the leper-land while stains endure.
In the far days, the few who sought the West
Were men all guileless, in adventurous quest
Of lands to feed their flocks and raise their grain,
And help them live their lives with less of pain
Than crowded Europe lets her children know.
From their old homesteads did they seaward go,
As if in Nature's order men must flee
As flow the streams,—from inlands to the sea.

In that far time, from out a Northern land,
With home-ties severed, went a numerous band
Of men and wives and children, white-haired folk:
Whose humble hope of rest at home had broke,
As year was piled on year, and still their toil
Had wrung poor fee from -Sweden's rugged soil.
One day there gathered from the neighboring steads,
In Jacob Eibsen's, five strong household heads,—
Five men large-limbed and sinewed, Jacob's sons,

[...] Read more

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Memories

(words & music by bill strange - scott davis)
Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened thru the ages just like wine
Quiet thought come floating down
And settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touched them and they burst apart with sweet memories,
Sweet memories
Of holding hands and red bouquets
And twilight trimmed in purple haze
And laughing eyes and simple ways
And quiet nights and gentle days with you
Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened thru the ages just like wine,
Memories, memories, sweet memories

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pictures And Memories

There's a teardrop
Falling slowly from my eyes tonight
As I think of your two arms
That used to hold me so very tight
But you're gone now
And girl I'm alone and blue
With just these pictures and memories of you
Pictures and memories
Of a love warm and true
Pictures of love we shared
And the memories of you
But your pictures can't heal my chest
Of this hurt deep inside
Pictures and memories
I feel like crying tonight
--- Instrumental ---
I may be crazy but you know sometimes
I can almost feel your touch
Those who say I should be over you
Well I guess they just never loved as much
I'd put your pictures where I can't see them
But I'd still see them in my mind
Just like your memories,
They're right here with me all the time
Pictures and memories
Of a love warm and true
Pictures of love we shared
And the memories of you
But your pictures can't heal my chest
Of this hurt deep inside
Pictures and memories
That's why I'm crying tonight
Pictures and memories
I feel like dying tonight...

song performed by Alabama
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Tower

SAILING TO BYZANTIUM
I

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
-- Those dying generations -- at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out Of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

WHAT shall I do with this absurdity --
O heart, O troubled heart -- this caricature,
Decrepit age that has been tied to me
As to a dog's tail?
Never had I more
Excited, passionate, fantastical
Imagination, nor an ear and eye
That more expected the impossible --
No, not in boyhood when with rod and fly,
Or the humbler worm, I climbed Ben Bulben's back
And had the livelong summer day to spend.
It seems that I must bid the Muse go pack,
Choose Plato and Plotinus for a friend
Until imagination, ear and eye,

[...] Read more

poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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