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BITTER IS THE SWEET

Submitted by Geremia on Fri, 2016-08-26 14:05

BITTER IS THE SWEET

I live your memory every day .
love knows no distance in time
today you are even stronger in my mind
and my heart and soul sorrows
as this long journey nears its own end
I cannot touch the moments gone by.
to remember can be a hurtful thing,
a bitter-sweet thing always lingering

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Vivovon

Fri, 2016-08-26 14:23

Poetic clauses I would like to call it. It reads smooth.
Yes, our brain is a big database of memories - sweet, sour, bitter and what not. I call it a spicy internal drive.
Live happy and prosper!

xxxxx

Geezer

Fri, 2016-08-26 16:27

Geezer's picture
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I just choose the better parts to remember.

We cannot see past the veil
To know what the next part does entail
Just wait to see, I guess I will
Until then... then until

Great to see you writing for yourself again. ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

lovedly

Fri, 2016-08-26 23:00

lovedly's picture

many still come
to read you
Joe
you aren't yet
in woe
all Neopoets know

Richards too
where are you?

alidzain

Sat, 2016-08-27 03:45

alidzain's picture

Sometimes what is bitter today seems sweet tomorrow - facing challenges to achieve your dreams.
Sometimes what is sweet today, seems bitter tomorrow - loving someone who later dumps you.
Of course that we all hope that what is bitter today will be lost tomorrow and what is sweet today will always be there in memory. That's human nature.
There are people out there who can change a very bad experience to something good - never drinking and driving after surviving an accident.
Whatever it is, I hope you have more wonderful times than the bad ones. Good write, my friend. Stay strong, yeah.

Alid

Esker

Sat, 2016-08-27 19:36

Esker's picture

and the Lasts...
which last deeper
I am wrought not with
the great intelligence
but exist with a primitive
run..like a coal seam
not a gold seam
but survivals gleam
If in the end we sleep
and do not dream
then all my dreaming
has been its own
enunciation of "Life"
and "Life" itself the
incarnate caste of
a world in which
the suffering and
haste bore brunt
the worry of it all..
the splendid moments
special...sunshine
and rain....
For me its like static
like driving further
from the tower
the radios voice
growing lost
maybe Im just tired
lately...

another day
regardless

another thoughtful
poem

thank U!

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