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 The memories from with-in         

somedays the memories surface and i cant get them out of my head
and when i lay down at night to sleep its the morning that i dread
because when i wake up in the morning i think that i can not win
those memories i hold inside  me are my memories from with-in
one day is good the other is not and it sometimes gets me down
sometimes it feels like a losing battle and it feels like i will drown
but i think of where i was back then and i break out in a grin
i think of all the blessings ive had from the memories from with-in
like the day my kids were born will live on in me never to depart
but sometimes those nasty memories surface and are tearing me apart
when that occur's think of all the good things there has ever been
only then will you have peace of mind with the memories from with-in

                                           Zoeycup

Whilst suffering and discussing the Indian Summer with other online poets, I unearthed or rediscovered and old schoolboy favourite of mine by Sir Thomas Moore:

What was your favourite summer poem or childhood poem/s that influenced you in some way?

The pain of being left behind has lingered inside you for years, years, years.

So you thought the patrons berating me weren’t bad enough, nuff, nuff.

I had open wounds all over my body.

And you dumped a bucket of salt on them.

You knew perfectly well how hurt I was before that.

Yet you tie a leash on my neck and commanded me to listen

Like the dog I was when I barked back at you.

No matter what my decision was, I was going to lose to you.

My attachment to you was the perfect gun for you to fire

Because it was loaded with the tablets that nearly did you in.

On that fateful day, you survived and I thought that true love was out of my reach.

You would have had the last laugh, but several days later, the joke’s on you.

I’m someone else’s now so tough luck and good riddance to bad rubbish.

You say you’re free of me,

Yet your memories of me have locked you up

and thrown away the key.

I know that because you have loads of trouble letting go of the past.

You can vent ‘til the cows come home that I never
made time for you, you, you!

Everything has to be about me, me, me!

But that was only the surface you scratched.

That’s the furthest you ever went.

It says more about you than me.

Hell, a beefcake could clear his schedule for you better than I can.

But his chivalry might be aggressive mimicry.

If he breaks your heart, it ain’t my problem.

Now that I’m out of your reach, you can’t touch me.

I’m mingling with the losers like I’m dancing in a nightclub in Italy.

It was a wakeup call to screw your shade

Because one of them loves everything about me.

It’s not looking the other way. It’s enjoying the person I was born to be.

Every day I don’t look you up online

Nor read your old messages, my memories of you hurt less and less.

While I can visualize you a decade from now

Still being stroppy about the delusion that I never cared for you.

Who knows? You could call me a cunt and still claim part of you loves me.

And you’re sorry it had to be this way.

But… fuck no! Let’s be real. You’re not sorry. No aspect of you loves me.

You played the sarcasm card on me. So how about a taste of your own medicine for a change?

Good luck becoming a psychologist with the attitude of a wack job.

Good luck getting that degree while you throw a fit on every single assignment you get.

Good luck handing that very same garbage you threw at me to a couple getting a divorce.

I can’t wait to see a patient badmouth you on Reddit and turn you into a court jester.

Maybe I did learn a lesson from you after all;

Knowing when it is time to let go and never come back.

She had pine

needles in her purse to take the edge off

Christmas. She held them for the memories

she didn’t own, but could pluck out of movies

like pine cones out of the snow to make ornaments —

decorated with bits of glitter, a bow

to represent a touch of hope. I would pull her close

and tell her she didn’t need the needles to feel something

as tangible as the snow on the ground. Fleeting

cold was meant to leave us

for the warmth of memories we could make on our own.

Dad…

All memories thundered on me.

Breathless to  bear the pain

How you showered the love and joy

As father and friend.

Tit-bit talks of hot and cold

Will remain as eternal joy

How crazy you were at times

Merciless for poor grades

And Santa Claus for other tears.

Too many hardships

As no one ever seen

But you held your pride

By touching the crown of town

You were minimal on talk

But your actions had spoken louder.

Still people talk your bravery

A man of great conviction

A soul of angel and so on

What not all, fall short of words

But for me....I miss you Dad.

Farm fresh

and only slightly frozen

you had rain dripping from your eyelashes
and every word you said ended in a promise
even I knew you couldn't keep.
But I remember.
I remember when evening fell on our shoulders
like ice in a scotch glass
and the nicotine stains on your fingers looked like bruises
from trying to hold time too tightly. My hands are bruised.
My shoulders. My back. My thighs. All
blotched with purple-yellow petals from a field

filled with the growing shadow of the mountain where

you stood,
shadows stretching from beneath your toes in my direction.
When you reached your hand towards mine

I knew I would fall into that darkness.

The world is filled with famous people, they are everywhere we look:

in our movies, on TV, in our newspapers and books

And though we’ve probably never met them, when adieu this world they bid

we’ll remember words they said and we’ll remember things they did.

We’ll remember if they were filled with love…or if hate made their vision blind

We’ll remember if they were compassionate, honest, generous and kind.

We'll remember if they made us smile or if as a rule

they were mean, indifferent, unfair, prejudiced or cruel.

Most of us, however, aren’t famous to the world…

but we are famous to a few…

and so we need to ask:

How do I want to be remembered by the people I’m famous to?

What will they treasure most when I am gone…

when I no longer cease to be?

Will they wear a smile or a frown

when the remember me?

I have so many memories that I could carry through my life.

Some great ones that would keep me entertained for a while.

But the ones that I carry close to my heart are the ones that I spent

with you.

From the moment we met on WWF, our first text message, our first

time talking on the phone, our first time Facetiming, the nights we would

talk on the phone while I was at work, and the moment I got in your car

at the airport.

Do you remember those times?

Those are my happiest memories of my life. 

I can still hear your voice telling me you loved me that night.

I remember what you were doing when you told me that. 

I say those are happy memories but fuck, I am sitting here

crying with sadness.

Not just because I miss you its also because you are the love of my life

and you don't love me anymore.

And I fear you will never love again or that you never love me the way you did back then.

I would give  my life to go back to that time I spent with you and tell you I will come back to you I promise.

That I have seen my future without you and it's dark and gloomy.

And it fucking sucks and its no future. 

Because you are the one I want.

I knew it then and I know it now.

I will always know it.

You are the one I love more than I could ever fucking imagine.

So please know I will be back.

And I would fucking move heaven and hell and come back to you.

I would do everything to be with you.

I wish to God you would see that everyday I live with this regret.

This self hate.

Yes these memories make me happy because I see you beautiful smiling face and those

soft brown eyes that dance when you smile and talk.

Your smile lights up a room and it fills my heart with such love for you.

But it's also bittersweet because you and I were together when I think of those times.

Then reality hits.

And it fucking hits hard.

You are there and I am here.

And you don't love me anymore.

And yet I am still loving you as much as I did then if not more.

Once more your memory comes back and lets me know what a fool I am. 

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

So what are you waiting for?

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!