You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘memorial’ tag.

Never forget today;
never forget tomorrow;
never forget yesterday;
never forget the debt that we owe,
never forget the importance of sorrow.

The world loses someone important,
vibrant, memorable, and amazing,
every minute of every day-
however, we are only lucky enough
to know a fraction of those fascinating people,
but those who we do know are the stars in the sky
of our lives who shine upon us, and who energize us,
and who inspire us to be a certain way,
and without them life would not be so wonderful or beautiful.

Our lost friends are our conscience;
our forgotten memories are still hanging
in the gallery of our minds,
but they are just waiting to be unveiled again;
our connections with everyone are still strong,
and are everlasting,
because that first impression gifted
can only be given once;
our heart, our compassion,
our want to remember and be remembered will never die,
and there are days on which it is important to take a moment
and remember how lucky you are to be here on this planet-
and one of those dates, those days, those moments,
is today, on September the eleventh.

I have been to your beautiful memorial;
I have sent a prayer of peace to you all at the tree of hope;
I have been moved to tears at the memory and thought of you all,
even though we never met;
I have mourned you every day since that terrible day,
as if I were attending your funeral;
I have remembered, and will always remember,
where I was when I saw the world change forever in so many ways,
and I will hang on to that memory for the rest of my life
like a rope;
I have no answer as to why what happened the way it did,
and why those who did what they chose to,
but that is not important-
because what is paramount is that we stop anything
as horrifying from happening again as best that we can,
and always remember and teach peace,
think of the fallen often,
and never forget.

image

I put everything into every thing;
I give all my attention to something or someone as much as I can;
I make the most out of every instance,
and I hear and I feel the significance and the difference
in any and every thing;
I believe every word, every song, every action,
every gift, every talent, every touch, every look,
has meaning to it, and that there are life-changing moments of light
and clarity that are a beacon to a new direction you are destined to take,
and not just a flash in the pan.

I am so sentimental.
I never forget a thing.
I love holding on to pieces of the past,
and remembering the actions of people
whose life was torn away from them before their time,
like a constant memorial.
I have a hard time letting go of people who meant something to me
and to this world, who gave so much every day
without a second thought to the recompense their choices would bring,
who would have given all that they could to anyone, to their last.

Everyone is searching for peace.
Everyone wants a little satisfaction once in a while.
Everyone is eager and grateful for some much needed release.
Everyone wants something in their life to make them smile.
That is why people keep so much and never throw anything away,
that is why some people cherish memories, photographs,
messages, and letters, from those who we will never see in the flesh again,
but who still live, and who you can still hear and talk to,
because of the connection that will forever be in what they shared with you-
for some it is what gets them through the hours of every day.

Don’t ever forget a thing.
Don’t ever regret a thing.
Don’t ever forget anyone who touched your heart,
made you smile, made you think, made you dream.
Don’t ever regret any thing that has happened,
because if they never happened you wouldn’t be able to ask
the question of what could have been-
and then not be able to see the amazing journey
that you took to get to where you are from where you started,
and remember all the great things than happened in between.

I never get enough of the intensity and the passion of somebody.
I never get enough of seeing the intensity of someone’s light.
I never get enough of the intensity, the love, that you feel
when you know that the well-being of others is a welcome, full-time, job
for someone, and not just something they can simply pick up
and put down like a hobby.
I never get enough of feeling the intensity of life.

At the heart of the Pacific Ocean,
on an island removed and isolated from the outside world
the Moai statues of Easter Island-
standing tall, un-moving, carved in stone,
and even today their significance, their truth,
and their history is still being excavated, and unfurled-
still remain to be seen by all and marveled at
on this sacred ground from where they were sculptured,
that have stood for hundreds of years- each unique from the other-
embody the importance of lineage and ancestry,
and a story that can still be heard.
As they gaze inland
towards the direction to which the clan that first erected them once resided,
the islanders of Isla de Pascua
still today look in the direction of the great stone memorialized deities
that still watch over their island-
and even though they may not see them directly,
they can always picture them in their head.

I have always been fascinated by the moai statues-
how some once stood, were then topped, and were then risen again
to their rightful place;
I could never get enough of reading or hearing about
what they once meant to their people-
a constant reminder of a culture and face
that you cannot easily erase.

Remembering the past and retracing where we have all come from
is very important, and in doing so can teach you about yourself-
learning and discovering something about an ancestor of yours,
who was born somewhere far-away,
whose thoughts, actions, and decisions,
still live-on hereditarily and genetically in each one of us,
is as important to know as our own health.

I one day hope to be able to go somewhere,
find a monument to someone great, and discover-
like the Moai of Easter Island-
that this monument was carved for me to find, to see,
and to reconnect with a broken ancestry
that I can reforge, and call my own;
I hope one day to be able to hear the echoes of the past,
and see the light and the shadow of those who have passed, loud and clear-
and be reminded that although everything changes,
some things are forever set in stone.

Ten years ago, I literally watched people die right before my eyes
and I couldn’t do a thing about it, I couldn’t save them-
on September 11th, 2001,
I, like billions of people all around the world,
watched almost three-thousand lights be extinguished in an instant,
the like of which we will never see again.
I could not believe what I was seeing at first-
I could not put into words the horror that I felt, the horror that I saw-
and then when the World Trade Center began to fall
I just remember putting my right hand to my chest,
as if I were having a heart attack,
and thinking that the entire world had gone mad,
that the whole world was now at war.
I will never get over what I saw on that Tuesday afternoon;
I will never understand why someone, anyone,
would freely choose to impact the world in such a deplorable way;
I will never again look at the stunning New York City skyline
and not think of that day.
If I could I would carry a picture of everyone who died on September 11th-
in New York City, at the Pentagon, on Flight 11, on Flight 175, on Flight 77,
and those who lost their lives heroically on Flight 93-
if I could I would look at every face, every day,
and send them and their family my love, and the gift of my poetry.
To those who died on September 11th, 2001,
this poem is for you.
To those who carry the memory and relive that Tuesday
whenever they look at themselves in the mirror,
this poem is for you.
To those who observed, who were touched,
who will never forget September 11th, 2001-
this poem is for you.

This poem is for you

Photobucket

Archives

Twitter Updates

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Poetographic

%d bloggers like this: