Best Nostalgic Poems

Flourishing on
Natural contours of land,
Variegating with rainbows,
A continuous river
...

Put on a clean shirt
before you die, some Russian said.
Nothing with drool, please,
no egg spots, no blood,
...

So often today
You have entered me,
Like a cool summer breeze,
Through the Sun-burnt grooves.
...

who knows?
keep writing!
keep on rhyming!
enjoy your life!
...

Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
...

An emergency brake
and noise of motor horn.
No, no, they did not
bring me to a stop,
...

The Taste of India

To North of India, come ‘chak le’
The ubiquitous Chole bhature,
...

The horns in the harbor booming, vaguely,
Fog, forgotten, yesterday, conclusion,
Nostalgic, noising dim sorrow, calling
To sleep is it? I think so, and childhood,
...

Time over Tuesday, August almost gone,
So little left of summer to dream on.
I write a poem on the windowglass.
Quatrains waver like shadows in the grass.
...

Back in his room at Denise's bakery,
Vincent placed his new drawings on the table.
Looking at it, he felt he had made shabby sketches.
He copied them into a new sheet of paper,
...

On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March and the tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, fetched a cane basket
Joyfully picked one, ate some while birds created racket.
...

on a lute of streams
by the concerto of dreams
in nostalgic world
...

...
my memory's screen door opens to the stars;
there's my Grandfather in the yard
gazing up at the constellations
...

My Grandma
A beautiful lady,
Whose face shone like a silver moon,
So lovely, like a pink rose,
...

In the wake of the corona virus pandemic that looms round the world
transporting many to doomsday's waiting room
leaving the diseased deceased's bereaved in gloom
I send my prayers to all affected and afflicted.
...

The crystalline tear that slipped away
And words that didn’t help them pause.
Hands of the clock that sashay
When you want to hear the endless applause.
...

ULLASTRATH
(THE DAY BEFORE THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY)

Here upon the Boyne’s
...

(dedicated to Thelma Zaracostas)

I don’t want to lose you
Even so you always
...

When I grow on my wise perception of prime age
An old age home, I do not crave for definite
I allow you children, to take away my belongings and
to honour the love and feelings shared along
...

some pieces of fallen leaves of last year
turned very silky like cicada's wings
kept well in a book
...

The train stopped suddenly in a halt,
Later I came to know it's a mechanical fault,
I got down from the train with curiosity,
My mind was full of gaity;
...

The hills my brothers & I created
Never balanced, & it took years
To discover how the world worked.
We could look at a tree of blackbirds
...

Love
A drop
Of tear dried
On the lover's cheek
...

Radiance ruptured the firmament elsewhere
Blessing the unruffled western seas and oceans
A delightful emblem of stairway to heaven
...

Tinkling laughter echoed there
Dripping teardrops glittered there
Our memory lane got cluttered thus
With entangling glee and glumness both.
...

(dedicated to Ms. Sandra Fowler, a great poet at poemhunter)

I whisper to me
I call my soul
...

I kept the ticket stub-

......And everything else from-
...Our last theater date;
...

Sailing the sea of unknowns and dubiety,
Salt air and a vast blue sky are present, apex in their variety.
Uncertainty is my lover; depression is my son,
Born from fickleness, but loneliness is constant; it's where all began.
...

The Same Shadow

When the gentle moon reigns in the sky
Alighting the dark world
...

I will put in the box of memories:
My first step to say 'I love you', feeling filled with no difficulties,
My first step to open my eyes in this world innocently,
My first step in letting the tears flow breathlessly.
...

Watching the thousand raindrops stop is nostalgic.
A flash of thoughts overflows, and it is tremendously tragic.
The present is the sword; the past is the scythe.
It's like a miner without the ability of a goldsmith.
...

The spring-it had simply been you,
And so, to a certain extent,
The summer; but autumn-this scandalous blue
Of wallpaper? Rubbish and felt?
...

Love is a Panacea

When forgotten promise knocks at the door
Or unfulfilled desires make life bore
...

In the melancholy, of my mind today
Tucked, but not hidden away
Is the 'Blue on Blue' of my entire life
With the sorrows, of my yesterdays.
...

An eclipse of the heart,
rips the soul apart.
Nostalgic promises, never to behold.
Standing alone at the alter,
...

Introductory Poem:

Is it me, Bri, or Poem Hunter, which makes sharing (with you) these verses....
so cumbersome and frustrating? Is it my advancing age OR some other curses? !
...

Impressions
though sounding fully nostalgic

though myriad impressions,
...

Scented words she sprinkles of love and light,
Attitudes of higher personality we notice,
Norm of common feelings she presents in wonder,
Dedication for literature she has, is notable,
...

Nostalgic.
Familiar sounds.
Homey sights
All around.
...

Again you came
Leaning against my
Intimate desires and passions
Nodded to my urges
...

Standing by the sea
watching all emotions flow
like waves upon waves
gently trying to overtake
...

A cape where two seas merge in one ocean,
substantiate feelings of oneness
an amalgamation of soul and heart
one union of love and passion
...

Your smile in the dark

Sad, evil, yet nostalgic
...

someday everyone will be wise in the future
everyone will be sensible and forward thinking
wear sensible shoes and act accordingly in the future
wise action according to everyone will be the act
...

Remember the flower, love
blooming night. The petals
lit on fire-
...

I listen for more, sitting in the porch
As breeze stirs dormant thoughts
And rain intones some archaic pain
Aroma of wet soil wafts free
...

There

I met you
...

The pain of nostalgic past

Droplets of tear dripping into veins,
...

*** A DEDICATION TO READERS
OF MY VERSES

I keep surfing the inter-net in search of old and
...

PULSATION
esspeecee …24.06.09.

Pulsation the word I heard
...

The main star of my story, rather the heroine is Tiffany. Tiffany was beautiful. When kids saw Tiffany, they would fight for her. When elders saw Tiffany, they were reminded of their kids, and when the youth saw Tiffany, it made them nostalgic. Yes! Tiffany was a beauty, but more than that, Tiffany was a tiffin box.


Life was forever easy for Tiffany. Right from the time, when the popular plastic company manufactured her, life was very exciting for her. It was very colourful too, as Tiffany had many friends all around her. The box shaped Boxer, the cylinder shaped Cindy and many others. But Tiffany stood out of them all. Now she was a unique shaped one. Well, she was heart shaped and obviously she knew how much it meant to all. Of course, the mortals would never buy the fact of a tiffin box having a heart, after all. But, Tiffany had one. A small cute heart, which now reflected all across her. She was all set when she was molded and cast into form, but most of all when she was coloured. Oh! she was coloured red, well now she would call that - ‘'heart Red'. She still remembers all those envious glances her 'girl' friends had given her, as she was loaded on to the truck to be placed in one of the biggest supermarkets in town. But, alas that was history!
...

R-reminiscing the past brings to mind
E-everything that happened in our life
M-memories that we keep close to our hearts
E-ever fresh everytime we think of them
...

(dedicated to Carol Rhodes, my best poet friend at poemhunter)

could you receive
this nice bouquet
...

The honey in the hive I created
Is dripping to my tongue
But I can not bring myself
To take a lick........
...

Cathay plane touching its landing gears
dispatching me in the port of nowhere
no one welcomes me yet
except dull, oppressing sun-heat
...

Voicless the lips,
motionless the hands,
vibrating the surprise's chords,
eyes ecstatic
...

I found you at an early age
Took you under my wings...
My joy, my love, is you
Nothing can separate you from me
...

The songs of my life
Remind me that I’m alive
With each note of sadness
My heart breaks into
...

a spirit bursts out of the blue
sings a nostalgic rhyme of winter
about memory in glorious hue
it ascends and never comes back, never
...

I have a fortunate fate that there is no
living being yet on the other planet
otherwise I would have been too assertive
and my candy- love would have started to
...

memories of childhood...
such a wonderful, hazy, warm feeling,
special memories, filled with love
come welling up, and send my senses reeling,
...

I always wonder
what they think the niggers are doing
while they, the pink and alabaster pragmatists,
...

Let us not speak of those days
when coffee beans filled the morning
with hope, when our mothers’ headscarves
hung like white flags on washing lines.
...

...

When you see me
Your eyes ought to see my inside
There is perhaps a heart there
Beating its own way.
...

When my nightingale sings
A dream lets out a clarion call
For it is a song for all - you and me.
A song for it is sometimes never sung before.
...

As the sun sets in the far horizon
My heart dips in sad mourning
As darkness sets and silence follows
My heart sinks into the deep gallows
...

I would like to re-submit this exhaustive list of terms associated with poetry and hope that members will make use of the list to understand different kinds of poetry in a better way.
...

A few hours after Des Moines
the toilet overflowed.
This wasn't the adventure it sounds.
I sat with a man whose tattoos
...

Old Slam Book of mine
Its glossy cover, covered
Now in slight dust. Age
Yellowing its pages, still
...

Young blood paint my vein red,
All over my body is red,
But my heart is the most red,
Of all parts,
...

The Why leads to the Why not
Answers to, desperately sought.
The nature, the source, the outcome
One's prejudice to sulk wholesome.
...

It was so easy being a British child
in the 1930s:
everything was – or so it seems to memory’s
selective mind - so ordered:
...

How joyous the journey

On bullock cart,
...

How much can these swollen veined
Bony quivering hands contain
When I am bedeviled by the scorched gray
of an impersonal ominous landscape all around?
...

One day from a far empire
you came to my lonesome thoughts
I was totally sedated by your eloquence.
Now you, my companion of all my invisible emotions.
...

I do believe you Sir Pen
When I close my eyes, I almost see
What's the promise you are imparting to me, for everybody
I believe this will not end into CATASTROPHE
...

Ridiculous rebels rebel,
Manic mortals mumble,
Pathetic princesses preen,
Dramatic debutantes dance,
...

The home of many names
My heart is a gallery of my feelings
The place where the summer is warmer
The space where spring more than just flowers
...

All I have...
are the memories of you
the sketches of your smiles
the carvings of your thoughts
...

A gentle breeze is passing through our hair:
Nostalgic notes of tender melodies!
As when our hearts were young, and filled with flare:
With such joy, we were floating like the breeze…
...

I worked at a boisterous animal shelter, which wasn't too far from my home,
That filled days with barks, meows and singing, like green wilderness zones.

I loved working with the various animals, and wished they could all be mine;
...

I heard an old familiar sound
Just on the other day,
Which started me to thinking
In a nostalgic way.
...

Yes, myself, I am willing
To do your biding
Be now and forever unforgiving
...

** DRIFTWOOD

My roots lie buried deep in the East,
Where sun is hot and winter least!
...

A Man Recalled
- - - - - - - - - - -
When I looked back
Some events of yesteryears
...

It was late and turning gray
And I was lonely that sad day
There was a chill in the air
A touch of magic that is very rare
...

Ah but still for the Beatles she yens
Yes... my sister... the oldies she kens
Thinks the Monkeyswere nifties
Nostalgic for the fifties
...

I come to you tonight

My hands are opened wide
...

Blooms of Marigold
Nostalgic to my homeland
Still scent the garden.
...

Today,
Where did romance go?
Some yearn,
For many yesterdays
...

When some people talk about money
They speak as if it were a mysterious lover
Who went out to buy milk and never
...

Haiku 169
(Deep Pain)
Heart seeks quiet place,
To revive the pain once ailed,
...

Pain

Deep darkness dawns on the platform of my mind,
With the fall of evening,
...

I was a famous conductor, and performing beautiful music was my joy,
As diamond sunshine, to pervade darkness, finds any means to employ.

Music had long been a part of me, in that I sang long before conducting,
...

It was a special time
It was a special place
Where we lived, loved and made bread.
...

Where are the days
when they were all mine
and i had those toys
at eight or late nine..
...

and she said to me
write more..
write disease...
and i felt the shiftings of verse
...

A simple comment
Crossed the field
With thunder and lightning
Followed by tears of rain
...

This little leaf I hold in my hand,
for fear it should escape into the air
and take my joy, my memories and
leaving me greying in despair.
...