I Do Not Remember
I do not remember
Most of what I've been-
Life is lost as its lived
Also within.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Related quotes
I remember, I remember - Past and Present after Thomas Hood and William Wordsworth - Lucy
I remember, I remember
the house where I was born
before foreclosure took away
the homestead I had sworn
in good faith, all attest 'tis true,
to leave grandchildren three: -
times change, leave little rest, I rue
that difference to me!
It seems so very long ago
the liberating Yanks
found welcome everywhere they'd go -
though some were pita swanks,
but since the Shah announced 'I ran'
our bearings all at sea
became - time reeled again would ban
all difference for me!
I remember, I remember
the sun porch, now in pawn,
proud flag a flying red, white, blue,
which now hangs so forlorn
Sun, moon spun round each priceless day,
or so I seemed to see,
four bucks a gallon gas I pay -
what difference to me!
My mind thought then nostalgic ease
eternally could last,
all my desires, priorities
seemed sated very fast,
The fever on my brow shoots higher
now Sheiks of Araby,
up ante for crude imports, tire -
what difference to me!
I remember, I remember
before Alaskan oil
had spilled upon once pristine shore,
polluting fauna, soil.
With climate change I'm feeling sore,
note each commodity
continues rising more and more -
what difference to me!
Back then I'd travel aimlessly,
cared not I ran Iraq,
from dawn till dark, from sea to sea
could, rising with the lark,
ignore the cost of gasoline
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Dying Brain
Do you recall how I was once your fire –?
And we, a regal cloud of unity
Meandering through the closing blues of night,
Commanding stars to glitter;
Dawn to blush?
Your answer comes in ever-blanking stares:
A wall that blocks the know,
Damping down the glow that used to emanate
From clear and lucid eyes.
They've lost the will to recognise.
But hear! We are fifty years together –
And once we writhed in pleasure –
Drowning in emotion,
That which was our prime.
You don't recall.
You only lie as vegetation
Scattered on the ground:
A living mound of flesh,
Devoid of any neural mesh
To let you say 'I'm sound.'
Don't worry Dear,
For I'm aware with memory!
I'll tell you how we were.
We have our right of history!
If you could just concur.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I Remember You
I remember you
I remember me
I remember
I remember how things used to be
I remember every word that you said
I remember, how could I forget
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember you
I remember your old address
And I remember
How could I forget
I remember thinking how my luck changed
I remember being so amazed
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember you
I remember me
I remember
The way things used to be
I remember how it was that we met
I remember, I will never forget
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
(I remember, I remember)
I remember, I remember you
...
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Remember The Time
Do you remember
When we fell in love
We were young
And innocent then
Do you remember
How it all began
It just seemed like heaven
So why did it end?
Do you remember
Back in the fall
Wed be together
All day long
Do you remember
Us holding hands
In each others eyes
Wed stare
(tell me)
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Do you remember
How we used to talk
(ya know)
Wed stay on the phone
At night till dawn
Do you remember
All the things we said like
I love you so
Ill never let you go
Do you remember
Back in the spring
Every morning birds would sing
Do you remember
Those special times
Theyll just go on and on
In the back of my mind
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met girl
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Those sweet memories
Will always be dear to me
And girl no matter what was said
[...] Read more
song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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But For Being Lost
As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness
That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves -
And too the dank, ‘til now forgotten chapel that
Did little to grace these forlorn grounds.
Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread this weed-ridden soil
Since times of yore when life had erstwhile blessed this land.
But for being lost in solitude - as does a country wanderer -
Would I not have happened across this morbid landscape.
And though detail rendered barely visible to my naked eye –
For desperately had the moon tried to break through this jet fog –
A sense of something suffused the place.
Was it those tormented spirits desperate for absolution,
Or perhaps the gargoyles teasing me on whether they be of stone or living flesh?
I was drawn to the oak door as it enticingly opened in passage for me.
The organ called from down the nave and through the pale orange of unsteady light
- that which could only be mustered from the few discoloured, moribund candles.
Could I also hear a distant choir of stern voices, as if in effort to scold me?
As I approached, those tarnished pipes came into view.
Standing erect with gothic pride, they bore down on me with patronising air -
Exaggerated by the disjointed sneering of minor chords,
As if to state that insignificant I had henceforth no grant of solace.
In answer, I steadied my rocking legs and racing mind to wonder of this scenario.
And in doing so, I found myself waking from a cramped dream –
Whence the message dawned: mine had been such a claustrophobic life.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since i saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can i do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
(remember)
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl i once knew
She said that she'd be true
(remember)
(remember)
Remember
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
(remember remember)
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Remember "Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since I saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can I do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember)
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl I once knew
She said that she'd be true
(Remember)
(Remember)
Remember
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
(Remember remember)
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tears For The Dying (d0 You Remember)
“Do you remember? ”
I have come to realize that you don’t have a clue
You have not a clue to why I’ve stopped talking to you
It is simply for I have no choice
The pain is too great when I hear your voice
Inside the hunger and the pain is killing me
Knowing you and I will never more be
The mails you write brings me grief
For the hurt there is just no relief
Without you life is too unfulfilling
Distancing now myself I am now willing
Please to these words do not deserve responding
For I cannot stand the thought of us never belonging
This morning I awoke in tears
For me now no one cares
Me lying with arms open wide
Dreaming you were by my side
Reaching out to give you an embrace
But you vanished without even a trace
No longer now can I kiss your face
Between us now such distance and too much space
Sadden eyes dies lacking an opinion
Chances gone now of any chanced reunion
So I try to hide the pain that’s calling
But the tears I cry descends like hurricanes falling
Wishing you were here with me
For all I have now are memories
Thoughts of the time we once shared
Thoughts of the times you once cared
Two birds of the same feather thoughts of us being
Visions of you were all I was ever seeing
How you have forgotten how I stayed with you in the hospital all night
You have forgotten how I held your hands till the morning light
You have forgotten how I prayed that you would feel better
You have forgotten how my love would stand all inclement weather
You have forgotten how to me you were my one and only treasure
Remember how by your side I stayed
Remember how it matter not to me how much you weighted
Remember how I said I loved you the way you are
Remember how I said you were my shining star
Remember how I said you’re beautiful with or without glasses
Remember I attended with you all the lama’s classes
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Baby Love
Whoa whoa...you you yeah.
Whoa whoa...yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah. whoa!
Seen your picture.
Called your name.
Cover story teenage magazine.
Wish I could phone you.
Wish you well.
And tell our secrets like we used to tell.
My baby love.
Do you remember me?
My baby love.
I remember.
Baby love.
Do you remember me?
My baby love.
Ummmmm
Youre a star now.
Celebrity.
Have you forgotten how it used to be?
Wed play doctor
In the sand.
Do you remember back in childhood land?
Wish I could hold you
In my arms.
I miss your candy kisses and your charms.
Nobody loves you
The way I do.
Ill never find another girl like you.
My baby love.
Do you remember me?
My baby love.
I remember.
Baby love.
Do you remember me?
My baby love.
Ummmmm
When Im lonely,
I can hear your voice inside,
Inside, cant hide.
And when I look up
Youre not anywhere.
I love you. you know it.
Wish that I could show it to
You you you.
My baby love.
Do you remember me?
My baby love.
I remember.
Baby love.
Do you remember me?
[...] Read more
song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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A moment missed
Remember when I asked you out?
And how you shed a tear.
Remember how I told you.
That I'd stay for all those years.
Remember our first kiss?
Under a moonlit sky.
Remember the fireworks.
That shone in your eyes.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember all the promises?
That we never seemed to keep.
Remember all the times.
I held you when you'd weep.
Remember all the walks we took?
On the beach at midnight.
Remember when we were perfect?
And everything felt right.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember that rose I sent you?
For our schools winter dance.
Remember when we broke up?
And I begged for a second chance.
Remember when you got pregant.
And I stayed right by your side.
Remember how I bought that ring?
And took your hand in mine.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when I became a dad?
And held my baby girl.
Remember how we fought for names.
And ended up with Pearl.
Remember her first birthday?
And that pretty teddy bear.
Remember her old blankie?
That she carried everywhere.
A smeared kiss.
[...] Read more
poem by Silence Dogood
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First Book
OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.
I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.
I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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The Rain Song
I dont think about us much anymore.
Frankly, the topic has become a bore.
And you dont come up much in my conversations.
And I dont think about you on vacation.
Oh, but when it rains.
When it rains. when it rains.
Thats when I remember. (I remember)
Thats when I remember. (I remember)
I remember you. (oh, I remember you)
I remember you.
I dont think about you when Im sleeping.
Oh, it doesnt even cross my dream-like mind. (oh)
And I dont think I see your face through the curtain.
Hell, I dont even miss you half the time. (half the time)
Oh, when it rains. when it rains. when it rains.
Thats when I remember. (I remember)
Yeah, thats when I remember. (I remember)
I remember you. (oh, I remember you)
I remember you.
Rain, rain, go away.
Im doing fine as long as you stay locked up inside a cloud of grey.
Rain, rain. rain, rain, rain. rain, rain. rain. rain!
cause when it rains. yeah, when it rains. when it rains.
Thats when I remember. (I remember)
Yeah, thats when I remember. (I remember)
I remember you. (I remember)
I remember you. (I remember you)
Thats when I remember. (I remember)
The only time I remember. (I remember)
I remember you. (oh, I remember you) I remember you.
song performed by Hootie & The Blowfish
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Third Book
'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.
For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!
Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.
Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Remember
Writer Dolly Parton
Copyright 1973
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember meadows and fields of golden wheat
I remember songbirds and sugar cane so sweet
I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember gingerbread my mama used to bake
And I remember home made toys that daddy used to make
Yes I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And our little country home they filled with love
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And all the things they did to make life happier for us
Yes I remember lots of things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember candy that daddy used to bring I remember songs my mama used to sing
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember mama and daddy most of all
And how they taught us children right from wrong
I remember mama and daddy most of all
How they used to hope and pray they'd live to see us grown
Oh I remember many things that often I recall
But I remember mama and daddy most of all
I remember I remember I remember mama and daddy most of all most of all
song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Remember Me
Remember me in hard times, in times of pain and sorrow,
remember your fellow man in hope of his dreams for tomorrow.
Remember what its like to be hated, and remember that they hated me first;
remember the words that I tell you, listen and fell no remorse.
Remember what I did for you, how I lead you from the hard-ache and pain, remember how you never thanked me, remember that you never praised my name.
I AM, who I AM, and who I'm meant to be, I am the one who you once loved, although you could never see. I delivered you from your owners, because you are one like me, remember how I loved you so, how my blood dripped from thee.
Remember of my coming, remember that I came, remember that I'm coming again, remember my blessed name. Remember how I died, remember that I rose again, remember everything I took for you especially the retched pain. Remember of my scares both mentally and physically for me, remember that I loved you, that I did this so you can be free. Remember of my tears, and red sweat that dripped from me, remember how it was never easy to set my own people free. Remember of my sacrifice, the death of my son on a tree, remember that no other action can equal to a greater sacrifice than me.
Remember those who love you, forgive those who don't, pray for those who hurt you, and love those who won't. Remember your brothers and sisters, not just because of relation to thee, remember them because I asked of you, will you listen to your savior's plea? Feed them if there hungry, anoint them if there sick, shelter them if there homeless, and do this oh so a quick. Do this in remembrance of me, because since I did it for you, and you do it for thee, then it might truly show.....that no one has forgotten me.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Do You Remember
Do you remember when you said I wasn't listening to you,
But you know that I really couldn't.
Do you remember when I asked you to repeat what you said,
And too me you said that you wouldn't.
Do you remember when you got mad at me daily for my hearing,
And I told you that you shouldn't.
Do you remember when I flew thousands of miles,
So that I could Just to be with you.
Do you remember also when I flew you here to my home,
So that we could become just two.
Do you remember when I did or went wherever that you wanted,
And all you really had to do was only to ask me to.
Do you remember how I went into deep, deep debt,
So that I could get you all that you did and do own.
Do you remember how I said that everything of mine was yours,
Which included my heart and also my home.
Do you remember how you then mocked and laughed at me,
When collectors would come and not leave me alone.
Do you remember when I prayed to GOD for our love,
Every single day and also every night.
Do you remember how happy and proud I always was of you,
And all you had to do was stand at my side.
Do you remember all the argument that you started with me,
And with me you would love to argue and fight.
Do you remember those many plans that we had made,
But never alone but while we were together.
Do you also remember how I would always say,
That you and I would always be forever.
Do you also remember as I still do and that I always will,
That once again you secretly chose some other.
Do you still remember the many sins that you've done,
And also the many lies to me that you had spoke.
Do you still remember the times that you weren't in our home,
Especially the times you weren't there when I had awoke.
Do you still remember those many times when you just hid away,
I wonder still if your conscience ever did choke.
Do you still remember and of course I always will, ,
How you have done this again and also once before.
Do you still remember how you had use all your other men,
So that you could get what you were looking for.
Do you remember how you lied and how you used them too,
Maybe that's why you always left for a different shore.
Do you remember the vows and promises that you made,
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poem by Randy McClave
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Not at a Loss Chord - after Adelaide Anne Procter – A Lost Chord
Not at a Loss Chord
Playing one day with my organ,
I was blissful – not ill at ease -
while five fingers wandered wildly
web-cams recording each wheeze.
I know the spot vibrating,
less what I was dreaming then,
but I strummed with both will and spirit
and an “Oh My God! Amen! ”
Adrenaline flowed not vainly
from heart to crimson palm,
as it coursed both veins and spirit
with little akin to calm.
It quieted pain and sorrow,
like love overcoming strife;
it seem[en]ed orgasmic echo
to tune discordant life.
It linked all perplexèd meanings
into one perfect peace,
and trembled away into silence
although I was loth to cease.
I have sought, and I seek not vainly,
that one G spot divine,
which linked my soul to the organ
so manifestly mine.
La petite morte delightful
strikes shivering molten core,
as this little verse insightful
calls for en corps encore!
It may be that Death's bright angel
will speak in that chord again,
for it’s surely in seventh Heaven
one sings “Oh My God! Amen! ”
Parody Adelaide Anne PROCTER – A Lost Chord
8 April 2007
ROBIN Jonathan 1947_2006 robi3_1338_proc1_0001 PXY_MXX Not at a Loss Chord_Playing one day with my organ
A Lost Chord
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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