Nostalgia Poems
Photograph
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Some haunt me pleasantly,
Using the grains of dewy silence that speak loudly
Within the long, grey halls of history.
I recline on such images with smiles I borrow from
The penetralia of my soul and skin.
Behind them come lean trees denuded by the swift
Gales of re-greened winters that celebrated
Friendliness in the course of wondrous seasons.
I peer deeply at them, genuflecting to Time
For its abundance of grace and reflections.
......
The Red Room
by Liv Atkinson
I think that if you were to crack my ribs
If you were to peel back my skin and cleave apart the muscle and cartilage and bone
Let me bleed as you dig your fingers into the cavity of my chest, clutch my heart, and pull,
If you were to take it and cut it into a million tiny pieces,
You would find a little red door
With an old brass handle.
The door would open to a room the color of merlot wine
With cherry hardwood floors.
It has yellow paper stars on the rich walls
And glossy guitars
......
Nostalgia
by Xia Sava
Nostalgia is a lighthouse
shining its light for new ships
Nostalgia enjoys what is,
no desire for things to change,
but ere long, Nostalgia watches
as the ships sail away
so Nostalgia waits
......
An Elephant never forgets
by Author Reinvented
"An Elephant never forgets", they say.
An Elephant never forgets.
From the moment they're born
Sixty to seventy years more,
And yet an Elephant never forgets.
I think about how an Elephant never forgets,
No, an Elephant never forgets.
Their mother's embrace,
Their favored drinking place,
......
In the Good Old Days
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
We were all much younger, happier then,
And untouched by heartache, sadness;
In dreams, we go back again and again,
And bring to our hearts gladness!
From Grandpa Frank, father of the Fields,
And Miss Pauline, who married his boy;
The hand of fate's no longer concealed,
As countless descendents live the joy.
......
Photograph
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Some haunt me pleasantly,
Using the grains of dewy silence that speak loudly
Within the long, grey halls of history.
I recline on such images with smiles I borrow from
The penetralia of my soul and skin.
Behind them come lean trees denuded by the swift
Gales of re-greened winters that celebrated
Friendliness in the course of wondrous seasons.
I peer deeply at them, genuflecting to Time
For its abundance of grace and reflections.
......
The Red Room
by Liv Atkinson
I think that if you were to crack my ribs
If you were to peel back my skin and cleave apart the muscle and cartilage and bone
Let me bleed as you dig your fingers into the cavity of my chest, clutch my heart, and pull,
If you were to take it and cut it into a million tiny pieces,
You would find a little red door
With an old brass handle.
The door would open to a room the color of merlot wine
With cherry hardwood floors.
It has yellow paper stars on the rich walls
And glossy guitars
......
Nostalgia
by Xia Sava
Nostalgia is a lighthouse
shining its light for new ships
Nostalgia enjoys what is,
no desire for things to change,
but ere long, Nostalgia watches
as the ships sail away
so Nostalgia waits
......
Reminiscences (A poem in honour of Shell Camp. Dedicated to all teachers and pupils, past and present, dead and alive).
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
So, what says the Morning Information?
Have Anthony and Patrick been traced?
Mrs. Elele, I heard, now resides in softer climes.
But that's another thing, by the way.
Did you watch LOVE BOAT last night on TV?
Channel 6, Aba showed it.
These soldiers here make me blench from the truth —
The truth that our uniforms must blend. White-on-crimson.
Yes. With their forest-green khaki.
......
All Good Things Come to an End
by Ian Fraser
Closing a good book is like losing a friend.
But alas, all good things come to an end.
It’s like that perfect Fall day,
When the weather is just right.
Then you remember that it won’t stay,
And Winter’s just in sight.
Or those days you had as a kid,
Spending time with your grandparents.
......
