Poems About Memories Seeking Honest Critique
#memories
Poems about memories seeking honest critique. Honest feedback has been requested for these poems.
Whackytraveler
Poem Published
8th Oct 2024 8:12pm
8th Oct 2024 8:12pm
The Brief Case: part 1
The sun shines
As the days
Go by
No word.
I stare at his brief case again
Unspoken memories
Played within
My mind
Memories I thought were long gone
The trip to the mountain
The dried petals
The pictures of how we fell
All I can think in this moment
“Come home my love”
As the days
Go by
No word.
I stare at his brief case again
Unspoken memories
Played within
My mind
Memories I thought were long gone
The trip to the mountain
The dried petals
The pictures of how we fell
All I can think in this moment
“Come home my love”
#FirstLove
#LongDistanceRelationship
#memories
113 reads
1 Comment
oldmanG
Poem Published
7th Oct 2024 3:21am
7th Oct 2024 3:21am
Breakers
Breakers
Down at the Breakers
Didn’t get…better
Down at the Breakers
Wish it lasted…forever
Nothin like a plastic bat
And some grass and a metal fence
Having your true love near
And some wind and sand in your… hair
It didn’t get more real
Smellin a steak on the corner
Of 10th and ocean…..Russo’s was King…
Down at the Breakers
We didn’t stop havin fun
Down at the breakers
Havin some fun n…son
And we ran out the room…
When Lindros was picked …number 88…..we thought we won...
Down at the Breakers
Didn’t get…better
Down at the Breakers
Wish it lasted…forever
Nothin like a plastic bat
And some grass and a metal fence
Having your true love near
And some wind and sand in your… hair
It didn’t get more real
Smellin a steak on the corner
Of 10th and ocean…..Russo’s was King…
Down at the Breakers
We didn’t stop havin fun
Down at the breakers
Havin some fun n…son
And we ran out the room…
When Lindros was picked …number 88…..we thought we won...
#childhood
#family
#memories
70 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
4th Oct 2024 12:43pm
4th Oct 2024 12:43pm
you can’t go home
a trope outside of time
with featureless white rooms
in place of where you thought you’d be
or streets at night with yellow glass
implying someone else’s warmth
you hear your name among the trees
and telephone wires
yet hardly know where home now is
and scream and scream and scream
with featureless white rooms
in place of where you thought you’d be
or streets at night with yellow glass
implying someone else’s warmth
you hear your name among the trees
and telephone wires
yet hardly know where home now is
and scream and scream and scream
#dreams
#home
#identity #memories
#identity #memories
86 reads
2 Comments
Stoney223
WOLF BAY33
WOLF BAY33
Poem Published
3rd Oct 2024 6:12am
3rd Oct 2024 6:12am
STAIRWAY TO PEACE
It's me again the story teller of words ✍️ What I would like to talk about, is necessary for the betterment of your life as you think about, the true understand of the very words that I say. 🤔 For have you ever had someone who catch your attention, to have you really analyze, the deepness of your own thoughts. 🧐 I'm talking about, the differences between now and then, as in the deepness of your own personal, experiences of relationships. THAT has been changed by the entire encounter, like a innocent recent developments of time. ⌚ THAT they were apart of the...
#acceptance
#memories
#responsibility
#SelfWorth
#StreamOfConsciousness
141 reads
2 Comments
Whackytraveler
Poem Published
3rd Oct 2024 5:33am
3rd Oct 2024 5:33am
Nobody’s Home
The vines tangled inside
The furniture covered in dust
Rusted nails, peeling paint
It’s quite quaint
A once warm home
Rooms that didn’t feel so small
Hardly any clutter
Empty, utterly
Quite literally
Empty
I’ve sat and waited,
Watched for the elderly couple to come home
I watched as the days went by
Days turned to weeks and then years
I’ve felt tears
from the sky
And I wonder why
They haven’t cleaned the floors
Or dusted the furniture
Or tended to the flowers
Or even said goodbye
The furniture covered in dust
Rusted nails, peeling paint
It’s quite quaint
A once warm home
Rooms that didn’t feel so small
Hardly any clutter
Empty, utterly
Quite literally
Empty
I’ve sat and waited,
Watched for the elderly couple to come home
I watched as the days went by
Days turned to weeks and then years
I’ve felt tears
from the sky
And I wonder why
They haven’t cleaned the floors
Or dusted the furniture
Or tended to the flowers
Or even said goodbye
#grief
#loneliness
#memories
110 reads
2 Comments
oldmanG
Poem Published
2nd Oct 2024 9:39pm
2nd Oct 2024 9:39pm
Dad’s Tool Closet (4/3/1987)
Dad’s tool closet (4/3/1987)
Hear whistling down the basement
Calls me like a preacher to church
She said I hum all day long
That’s where I get it from
Stumble down in a hurry know
My time with him is limited
So I try to make the most of it
He’s whistling while he putters on
Behind a big wooden door sits
Land of wonder for me to explore
Tools and Nicholson’s file where
He used to work
But the door seemed like a key
To figuring out daddy’s soul
Pretty much the only time we connected ...
Hear whistling down the basement
Calls me like a preacher to church
She said I hum all day long
That’s where I get it from
Stumble down in a hurry know
My time with him is limited
So I try to make the most of it
He’s whistling while he putters on
Behind a big wooden door sits
Land of wonder for me to explore
Tools and Nicholson’s file where
He used to work
But the door seemed like a key
To figuring out daddy’s soul
Pretty much the only time we connected ...
#childhood
#father
#memories #son
#memories #son
98 reads
0 Comments
sgtvasquezg
G. Vasquez
G. Vasquez
Poem Published
2nd Oct 2024 5:33am
2nd Oct 2024 5:33am
Time In Jail Placed Us Apart
I told you I'd miss your breakfast, eggs over medium, bacon and grape jelly on buttered toasted bread.
But I could never imagine how it would make me feel waking up without you lying next to me in bed.
I miss the joy it brought you when you would tell the cows good morning, everyday.
I can still smell you blow drying your hair and remember watching you applying makeup to your face.
These are the memories I hold on to and pray will never fade.
Like "Suck it up, Buttercup", the term you use to always say.
But I could never imagine how it would make me feel waking up without you lying next to me in bed.
I miss the joy it brought you when you would tell the cows good morning, everyday.
I can still smell you blow drying your hair and remember watching you applying makeup to your face.
These are the memories I hold on to and pray will never fade.
Like "Suck it up, Buttercup", the term you use to always say.
#faith
#love
#memories #prison
#memories #prison
192 reads
1 Comment
ChloesPoeticInk
Poem Published
1st Oct 2024 12:44pm
1st Oct 2024 12:44pm
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter,
a title that feels like a weight I can't shake,
in a world where your love was a distant whisper,
and I was left shattered, my heart forced to break.
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter,
when your smile felt cold, a mask that you wore,
every moment I craved, just a flicker of warmth,
but I found only shadows, and I longed for so much more.
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter,
as I stood in your light, always waiting in vain,
fighting for scraps of affection, like a...
a title that feels like a weight I can't shake,
in a world where your love was a distant whisper,
and I was left shattered, my heart forced to break.
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter,
when your smile felt cold, a mask that you wore,
every moment I craved, just a flicker of warmth,
but I found only shadows, and I longed for so much more.
I’m ashamed to be called your daughter,
as I stood in your light, always waiting in vain,
fighting for scraps of affection, like a...
#daughter
#family
#memories
#mother
#parent
160 reads
8 Comments
ChloesPoeticInk
Poem Published
30th Sep 2024 8:50pm
30th Sep 2024 8:50pm
Born to Write, But Never Written
Maybe some people are born to write,
to bleed ink on paper under the moon’s quiet light.
But never to be the verse, never to be seen,
lost in the spaces between what could have been.
For once, I want to be the poem, not the poet,
to be the one cherished, though I may not know it.
I tire of shaping words, molding my pain,
while the world reads my soul but never knows my name.
I want to be felt, in a line that’s pure,
in someone else’s story, a love that endures.
Not the pen that carves heartache into the sky, ...
to bleed ink on paper under the moon’s quiet light.
But never to be the verse, never to be seen,
lost in the spaces between what could have been.
For once, I want to be the poem, not the poet,
to be the one cherished, though I may not know it.
I tire of shaping words, molding my pain,
while the world reads my soul but never knows my name.
I want to be felt, in a line that’s pure,
in someone else’s story, a love that endures.
Not the pen that carves heartache into the sky, ...
#FeelingLost
#LifeAsAWriter
#memories
#SelfReflection
#SelfWorth
161 reads
4 Comments
oldmanG
Poem Published
30th Sep 2024 8:22pm
30th Sep 2024 8:22pm
Blind Me
Headlights blind me
As I drive into the resurrection
She sings along as we cruise into
The greasy burger stand trying to
Scrape enough coin to feed the little ones
As cars criss cross the highway looking for
Their own redemption maybe if they can stay straight
But they drift off recessing into the dark alleyway
As a man walks along looking for lost money
The lights are bright at Walmart as
A local bicycle salesman closes for good because of them
Meet up at the Dollar...
As I drive into the resurrection
She sings along as we cruise into
The greasy burger stand trying to
Scrape enough coin to feed the little ones
As cars criss cross the highway looking for
Their own redemption maybe if they can stay straight
But they drift off recessing into the dark alleyway
As a man walks along looking for lost money
The lights are bright at Walmart as
A local bicycle salesman closes for good because of them
Meet up at the Dollar...
#children
#memories
#responsibility
106 reads
2 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
30th Sep 2024 1:15pm
30th Sep 2024 1:15pm
Life Lesson 6 (Uk) Defiance runs in the blood
Before the term road rage became common use, I'm pretty sure that my cousin, who was driving us back to the house, was exhibiting all the classic signs.
Not only was she speeding and diving in and out of traffic in her white Ford Granada car, but she was also letting out some colorful curse words, and I even had to turn my head and stare at her, wondering what was going through her mind.
We managed to return to the house in one piece to be greeted by the rest of the family. You would think that being born and raised in the United States, I would not...
Not only was she speeding and diving in and out of traffic in her white Ford Granada car, but she was also letting out some colorful curse words, and I even had to turn my head and stare at her, wondering what was going through her mind.
We managed to return to the house in one piece to be greeted by the rest of the family. You would think that being born and raised in the United States, I would not...
#family
#memories
125 reads
6 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
29th Sep 2024 11:00pm
29th Sep 2024 11:00pm
Life Lessons 5 Another summer in the UK
The year was 1989
This was summer when I was sixteen, and my mother wanted a break from caring for me and my sister.
The word "taking care" is held very loosely. She wanted to get some distance between me and my twenty-year-old boyfriend.
She liked him until she read a page in my diary stating the sed boyfriend was my first. I do not know how you all would feel about your privacy being invaded, but that particular issue was blown to a proportion that you would think that I killed someone.
She bought three tickets to London, and off we...
This was summer when I was sixteen, and my mother wanted a break from caring for me and my sister.
The word "taking care" is held very loosely. She wanted to get some distance between me and my twenty-year-old boyfriend.
She liked him until she read a page in my diary stating the sed boyfriend was my first. I do not know how you all would feel about your privacy being invaded, but that particular issue was blown to a proportion that you would think that I killed someone.
She bought three tickets to London, and off we...
#family
#memories
168 reads
17 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Memories Seeking Honest Critique
