memory

Elf

Each part of me in emblazoned with your emblem
that states me yours and yours alone.
I fantasize about our time in which the curving lips are shared,
but 'til it comes I am content to simply mend your stables.

So soon you'd come to face me, sans bonnet or a frill,
and for the first I saw you clear and you were no one dear.
Then I ran and sought and sorted, losing tracks of time and days,
all whilst you're content to brittle down to dirt.

I never gave a thought to life had I'd soon returned;
I simply stood and followed through and made ways of others, elsewhere.
Nightly then she'd cross my mind and I'd search myself for bits
of flesh and jaw and lobe-less ears and depths in big, brown eyes.

Absence was the only thing that reinforced and wove
a sense of blighted unity that drove us all from home.
We sought another, and in that sought our woes,
leaving us with one-another, too busy with our own enclosures.

And by the time I capture vision of her as I'd known,
I'll be old enough to have forgotten all that had gone wrong.
Bygone times with lapse in mind and memories that fail;
they'll leave me frail and atrophied, but thrilled with the result.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

O'er Countess Graves

Folder: 
Viet Nam Pieces

O'er countless graves Love's teardrops flow
to earth to nourish mem'ries that grow.
Cherished the place, beloved each face,
each sparce, narrow garden is a holy place;
those whose Love turned Grief now know.

Strong word is "Love", despite Death's throe.
'Tis sunrise there, still night here below.
Peaceful Love with Stately Grief God doth replace,
o'er countless graves.

"Take up our dream!", they tell us, "GO !
Liberty's strong thread, run it! So
lives, hopes, dreams, fires-of-Soul may pace
yet coming runners in Life's race,
and ALL win !" 'Though Death counts countless tears
. . . . . o'er countless graves.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The young generation who fought the latest war knows the futility of war better than anyone else knows it. They stand at their fellow warriors' graves and remember why they died. They alone can tell future populations of that futility, but will that population listen? Will they learn?

View trexpatton's Full Portfolio

I Can't Remember

Fading into a
Haze, that rises
All around,
My vision is clouded,
And I
Can't
Remember.

In the distance
I can sense the presence,
Of a long forgotten memory.
Desperately, I try to find my way out
Of the haze,
But I
Can't
Remember.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

All the important memories are the ones that tend to slip away.

View invisibird's Full Portfolio

Something Like A Memory

Folder: 
2006

It was a dream, I think

The first time I felt this

Coursing through my veins

 

It touched me so tender and mild

Then slapped my face

I felt the stinging pains

 

I loved the feeling, this feeling

Love so deep and pure

Racing heart, blurring my brain

 

I remember watching and feeling

With just one touch so gentle

All of my evils where slain

 

I never really knew the dream man

Who had done all of this

I just know how it does feel

 

Then you touched me, only you

And something like a memory

It suddenly became so real

 

Do dreams really come true

Is what you’ve always wanted

As close as a tear

 

I still don’t know, will I ever

But here you stand before me

And I have not a fear

 

~Chrystal

Written on

September 28, 2006

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This one was to Paul.

View crimsonangel24's Full Portfolio

The Red Lights

The Red Lights
by: Joel Faypon
September 27, 2002

Once you wrapped me around
      the sheets of your pleasantries
A naive girl stranger to the world
     and its toils
I showed you the real world
     but it didnt come to you
     as a shock
You saw it more like a wonder
Life and love and their
     ill fated meanings
Sin and consequence -
     guilt and new beginnings

The first moment we kissed
     lingers so much like pain
It never dived down to oblivion
How can you forget the sight of
     a placid sunset sinking in
     a raging sea?
You cannot - for it is meant to be
     an eternal memory

We kissed before every red light
      we came across
And along with it - we wished
     that the light remained red forever
But forever - like being human
     is overated
And that is what you taught me -
Be blind to everything and just feel
Just feel and be innocently happy

But now you're slipping away
I regret chosing to be a drifter
I realized it late that when I drift -
     the ones that I care about
     may one day drift away from me

It is more painful now
      knowing that I have loved
I shed more blood when
     you tell me that I'm loved
The cut gets deeper when
     you wish for all my love
And its death in itself knowing 
     that I'm going to  lose that love....

-september 27 02-
 

View bazoora's Full Portfolio

Hope for Dunblane

Hope for Dunblane  

 

 

In evergreen memory of our beloved 
children of Dunblane Primary School,

Scotland: United Kingdom! 

 

 

Ugonna Wachuku 

 

(c) March 1996   

 

__ 

 

Contents  

 

__ 

 

 

Dedication  

 

Prologue  

 

Part One:   

 

D:

 

Victoria:  at dawn   

 

Emma:  innocent face   

 

U:

 

Melissa:  bells toll   

 

Charlotte:  harmless smiles

 

N:

 

Kevin:  You walked our streets   

 

Ross:  to the brilliant gardens

 

B:

 

David:  tell it on the mountain?   

 

Mhairi:  evening walk without you

 

Part Two:  

 

L:

 

Brett:  sweet, little love   

 

Abigail:  on the green earth

 

A:

 

Emily:  in search of you   

 

Sophie:   I remember you

 

N:

 

John:  your soiled napkin   

 

Joanna:  in my tears

 

E:

 

Hannah:  child of peaceful Dunblane  


Megan:  my memories of you  

 

Part Three:

 

Smiles and hope

 

What monstrous hatred?

 

Epilogue

 

The Author

 

__  



Dedication  


__ 


In unfailing memory of

our 16, 5 years old kids

murdered by Thomas Hamilton

at Dunblane Primary School

Scotland on wednesday 13

March, 1996;

 

an eternal tribute to their

noble teacher who was shot

defending the children;

a message of hope and love

to mourning parents and families;

 

a loving homage of caring

love to the 12 kids and 2

teachers wounded;

to all humankind who have

learnt from, and dared to

be wounded by the bloody

tears of Dunblane!!!

 

__ 

 

Prologue

 

__ 

 

 

"Blessed are they that mourn;

for they shall be comforted."

 

~Mattthew 5: 4

 

"Blessed be God, even the Father

of our Lord Jesus Christ, the

Father of all mercies and the

God of all comfort:

Who comforts us in all our

tribulation, that we may be

able to comfort them which

are in any trouble, by the

comfort wherewith we

ourselves are comforted

of God."  

 

~2 Corinthians 1: 3-4   

 

 

The shock stills! The coldness dumbs! The reality

blatantly unfathomable! The tragic truth of humanity's

age old bizarreness sneaked in on the historic small town

of Dunblane, Scotland, on wednesday 13 March 1996, when

a lone gunman made his way into Dunblane Primary School

and in stacatto bursts of gun fire murdered 16 five year

old kids and their teacher. 12 other kids and 2 teachers

were wounded.   

 

 

When the reality of this news dawned on me, my world

stood breathless. For fleeting seconds, I thought I

was gonna wake up from my dream and see that it was not

true. But then, I fainttingly realized that I was rather

dreaming with my eyes wide open! The evergreen garden

of the blooming respect and love I have for children

all over the world had been deeply stained by the

cold blood of humankind's death-weapon. White walls

of my yearning for a better world for our earth's children,

our tomorrow's people, crumbled into streams of tears

and blinding sorrow as death quaked its loving grounds

with a gun-man's hand. Tears rolled down my face in dry

shriek. It was, in its own manner, yet another monstrous

atrocity, blatantly unique, in mankind's march through

this troubled world.  

 

 

Remembering that two months from the 13 of March, it

would be the United Nations declared International Day

of Families - 15 May, 1996, I bitterly wept for Dunblane.

I cried for humanity!   

 

 

Then, in my deep-felt sorrow, I realized that 1995-2005

is the United Nations decade for human rights education.

The question of what rights the child has to life, liberty

and security haunted my weary being. This brought me to

the brink of accepting that in many ways, humankind have

failed our children, our hope for the nations, our future!    

 

 

This book is as a result of my soulful tears and contrite heart.

This is my loving and healing hope for Dunblane because

violence to children anywhere is violence to me personally!   

 

 

Ugonna Wachuku

Wednesday 27 March, 1996 

Loex: Bernex Commune 

Geneva, Switzerland 

 

__    


Part one:   


__    



"If I can help somebody

as I pass along, if I

can cheer somebody with

a word or song...then,

my living will not be

in vain."   

 

~Martin Luther King, Jr.     



D:   


at dawn:   


Victoria Clydesdale:    



at dawn, clouds began

to gather over your

little, sleepy town -

these clouds of death

defied those streams

of peace in you:   

 

They overlooked the

beauty of your innocent

smiles.    

 

The forgot the warmness

of your innocence.

These clouds of death

did not bother to see

the unspeakable love

in your eyes.   

 

Latter that morning,

these clouds brought

in more thicks of

darkness; waiting to

bring the healthy

light you've always

known to an end.   

 

You never knew!   

 

Afterwards, the rains

came from these dark

clouds.   

 

But these rains were

not form heaven's nature.

They came from one of

us - a gun man who defied

families and humanity -

a gunman who believed

you had no right to

live and be educated.   

 

His bullets cut you

down. Yet, we refuse

to see you die.

We refuse to end

the sweet smiles you

gave; even in our

battered memories.   

 

You left home with

hope and love for

a better day. But

valiant Vicky, your

day ended in tears.

Our world stood still. 

 

Our breath fizzled out;

while earth's streams

flowed without life.   

 

Our wretched world

ended with your death.

Our tears continue even

with blue clouds and

the rainy rainbow.    

 

Now, we dream of your

loving laughter.

We dream of your calm

screams through the

welcoming day.    

 

Ehen finally, we wake

up, we shall still dream

of you, Victoria because

those smiles in your

eyes will linger

forever

while

our

dreams

of

you

trails

our

left

d

a

y

s
.

.

.

.

.

.



Innocent Face:

 

Emma Crozier:    

 

Your innocent face

shown around the

world stopped us

on the road to life.   

 

Your endless twinkle

snuffed out stars

in our skies and

brought daylight.   

 

Yet you were cut

down before you

could ask why?   

 

Beloved Emma, you

were hot to death

even in the peaceful

state of your simple

soul so calm and

trusting.   

 

Nobody seemed to care.

Humanity left you in

your innocence and

love.   

 

And death could not

wait to take you

away from us, Emma!

Death walked your

trusting path and

mine unknown.   

 

We refuse to accept

that death can take

you away. We affirm

that God will dry

your tears and ours.   

 

Yet our tears flow

because now we deeply

understand that you

were our sweet, little

girl of love and hope.   

 

The earth, with me,

weeps for you, emerald

Emma. Heaven bleeds

tormenting tearful

torrents because you

were our love, our

reason forc being.   

 

Beloved Emma, you

were our future.

But death did not

bother to respect

the hope and love

you symbolized for

or empty world.   

 

That gun of death

tracked you down

and in your own

blooming blood,

you gave up the

hope and bountiful

love within your

beautiful soul.   

 

How I shudder to think

about towering tears

so silent in your

dying breath and mine.   

 

Your utter disbelieve

at what was happening

to you and your class-

mates.   

 

What soul do I have

to stand your pleading,

searching eyes?   

 

What mortal strength

do I have to bear this

shattering burden?   

 

Who would answer your

prying questions for

humanity, Emma?   

 

Your innocent face

will linger forever.

Your smiles.

Your enchanting,

little laughter!   

 

Emma, just remember,

you are my hero.

You were our love.

Now, you are

God's

caring

A

n

g

e

l

__ 

 

 

U:   

 

bells toll:

 

Melissa Currie:   



Now, the bells toll for

you. The bells toll to

welcome earth's herald

of your little body,

Melissa!   

 

This is no wedding bell

in the country church

yard. This is no

christening ceremony...  

 

::::::: 

::::::: 

From my long-hand collection: 

Hope for Dunblane

Ugonna Wachuku  

(c) March 1996 

Geneva: Switzerland