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Super Mario Brothers Live As Video Gamer's Memory Paradise in Me

Think back to your personal childhood
experiences with video game paradise
Think Nintendo Consoles and the most famous
Video Game Mascot of all

Talking Super Mario Bros.
The Game I played day and night every day
when I play Super Mario on my Wii
Memories of my childhood
came back to me

my childhood is forever young
but I am not
but that paradise lives on as a video game memory in my heart
thanks Super Mario Brothers! Thank you Nintendo!

Super Mario Bros- Live As A Video Game 's Memory Paradise In Me!

poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
Added by Poetry Lover
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I write because poetry begins at the point at which the last word does not belong to death.

Odysseas Elytis in The Open Papers (1974)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Bamboo Adobe

I sit along in the dark bamboo grove,
Playing the zither and whistling long.
In this deep wood no one would know -
Only the bright moon comes to shine.

poem by Wang Wei, translated by Liu Wu-chi
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Anti-heroine

I'd planned to be Heathcliff's Cathy,
Lady Brett, Nicole or Dominique or Scarlett O'Hara.
I hadn't planned to be folding up the laundry
In uncombed hair and last night's smudged mascara,
An expert on buying Fritos, cleaning the cat box,
Finding lost sneakers, playing hide and seek.
And other things unknown to Heathcliff's
Cathy, Scarlett, Lady Brett, and Dominique.
Why am I never running through the heather?
Why am I never used by Howard Roark?
Why am I never going to Pamplona
Instead of Philadelphia and Newark?
How did I ever wind up with an Irving
When what I'd always had in mind was Rhett,
Or someone more appropriate to
Cathy, Dominique, Nicole, or Lady Brett?
I saw myself as heedless, heartless, headstrong,
An untamed woman searching for her mate.
And there he is -- with charcoal, fork, and apron,
Prepared to broil some hot dogs on the grate.

[...] Read more

poem by Judith Viorst
Added by Poetry Lover
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When I Shall Sleep

Oh, for the time when I shall sleep
Without identity,
And never care how rain may steep,
Or snow may cover me!
No promised heaven these wild desires
Could all, or half, fulful;
No threatened hell, with quenchless fires,
Subdue this quenchless will!

So said I, and still say the same;
Still, to my death, will say—
Three gods within this little frame
Are warring night and day:
Heaven could not hold them all, and yet
They all are held in me;
And must be mine till I forget
My present entity!

Oh, for the time when in my breast
Their struggles will be o'er!

[...] Read more

poem by Emily Brontë
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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