|
|
Post by ARENA on Aug 27, 2018 11:03:58 GMT
My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke
For when I'm "here" I'm wondering
If I really should be "there"
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!
Sometimes I walk into a room,
Saying "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain!
It really is a bore.
At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!
When shopping I may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when that person walks away
I ask myself, "who’s that?"
Yes, my forgetter's getting better
Whilst my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke.
|
|
|
|
Post by aubrey on Aug 27, 2018 11:45:23 GMT
Memories
I know I cannot leave this place Full of memories Things like the way they knew us All over town We used to walk the streets together We could be seen Past shops where people knew us Yeah, people knew I've got to choose between tomorrow And yesterday I can't stop to think about My life, here today Maybe I'll find someone to get you Off my mind Take me away from here And leave it, leave it all behind Memories can hang you up and haunt you All your life, you know Get so you cannot stay And yet cannot go I could find out where she's gone Today I feel so unhappy Streets seem so empty now I want you with me
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2018 12:35:24 GMT
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Mary Elizabeth Frye
|
|
|
|
Post by ARENA on Aug 27, 2018 12:42:43 GMT
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Mary Elizabeth Frye I have that on a small plaque bought in the British Museum many years ago. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2018 15:03:59 GMT
This always makes me wet eyed at funerals
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina Rossetti
|
|
|
|
Post by aubrey on Aug 27, 2018 15:19:07 GMT
The house of the dead becomes more and more real to me
As the list of dead friends on my Palm increases
Though I don't believe in the permanent soul
I can't help asking, "But where do they go?"
And the love I invest
In my lovers deceased
Drains my love for those who exist
At an actual and earthly address
I update the database
Daily from my laptop
Using new vaporware:
Palm Deathtop
I'm starting to wish I could see my old friends again
At the glamorous party to which they've departed
Well, what do you know? I'm apparently invited
Look there, your name is also on the list
Sooner or later, we'll all be there I guess
All already no longer exist
Together with our friends again
Let's update the database
Daily from our laptops
Using new vaporware:
Palm Deathtop
|
|
