Memories Of 2024 Quotes

What I find helpful is exploring my memories and feelings with pen and paper. If you find some quiet time today, take an opportunity to write three beautiful memories from your childhood, or simply from your past, that helped you to nourish the beautiful YOU that you are.

March 4 Could This Be True of Me? But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself. Acts 20:24 It is easier to serve God without a vision, easier to work for God without a call, because then you are not bothered by what God requires; common sense is your guide, veneered over with Christian sentiment. You will be more prosperous and successful, more leisure-hearted, if you never realise the call of God. But if once you receive a commission from Jesus Christ, the memory of what God wants will always come like a goad; you will no longer be able to work for Him on the commonsense basis. What do I really count dear? If I have not been gripped by Jesus Christ, I will count service dear, time given to God dear, my life dear unto myself. Paul says he counted his life dear only in order that he might fulfil the ministry he had received; he refused to use his energy for any other thing. Acts 20:24 states Paul’s almost sublime annoyance at being asked to consider himself; he was absolutely indifferent to any consideration other than that of fulfilling the ministry he had received. Practical work may be a competitor against abandonment to God, because practical work is based on this argument—“Remember how useful you are here,” or—“Think how much value you would be in that particular type of work.” That attitude does not put Jesus Christ as the Guide as to where we should go, but our judgement as to where we are of most use. Never consider whether you are of use; but ever consider that you are not your own but His.

The Eviction by Stewart Stafford The mind's paper vessel crumples Sodden with learning and memory Ne'er to sail waves of reminiscence A living statue, hewn by sculptor Time. The physician nor the shaman console Self-pitying sobs in the moaning wind Brought down by jackals in the dunes The skull's tenant but a daily squatter Nostalgic waves batter alien shores Déjà vu of the blood and the collegial A stranger's reflection in misting eyes A sandcastle sacked to the four winds © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved

The Lottery by Stewart Stafford It was New York, 1984, The AIDS tsunami roared in, Friends, old overnight, no more, Breathless, I went for a check-up. A freezing winter's dawn, A solitary figure before me, What we called a drag queen, White heels trembled in the cold. "Hi, are you here to get tested?" Gum chewed, brown eyes stared. This was not my type of person, I turned heel and walked away. At month's end, a crippling flu, The grey testing centre called, Two hundred people ahead of me; A waking nightmare all too real. I gave up and turned to leave, But a familiar voice called out: "Hey, you there, come back!" I stopped and turned around. The drag queen stood there in furs, But sicker, I didn't recognise them, "Stand with me in the line, honey." "Nah, I'm fine, I'll come back again." "Support an old broad before she faints?" A voice no longer frail but pin-sharp. I got in line to impatient murmurs: "If anyone has a problem, see me!" Sylvester on boombox, graveyard choir. My pal's stage name was Carol DaRaunch, (After the Ted Bundy female survivor) Their real name was Ernesto Rodriguez. After seeing the doctor, Carol hugged me, Writing down their number on some paper, With their alias not their real name on it: "Is this the number of where you work?" "THAT is my home number to call me on. THAT'S my autograph, for when I'm famous!" "I was wrong about you, Carol," I said. "Baby, it takes time to get to know me!" A hug, shimmy, the threadbare blonde left. A silent chorus of shuffling dead men walking, Spartan results, a young man's death sentence. Real words faded rehearsal, my eyes watered. Two weeks on, I cautiously phoned up Carol. The receiver was picked up, dragging sounds, Like furniture being moved: "Is Carol there?" "That person is dead." They hung up on me. All my life's harsh judgements, dumped on Carol, Who was I to win life's lottery over a guardian angel? I still keep that old phone number forty years on, Crumpled, faded, portable guilt lives on in my wallet. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.

I Am What Remains of Me”: October 9, 2024 at 9:53 AM Verse 1: I used to be a cowboy, riding high and free, With a heart full of dreams and a love that was meant to be. But the winds of change blew hard, and the years took their toll, Now I’m just a shadow, a man without a soul. Chorus: I am what remains of me, a ghost of who I used to be, Lost in the echoes of a love that couldn’t stay. I am what remains of me, a broken heart and memories, Wandering these empty fields, where we used to play. Verse 2: We danced under the moonlight, with stars in our eyes, But the fire burned out, and left me with goodbyes. Now the whiskey’s my companion, and the night my only friend, As I search for pieces of a heart that won’t mend. Chorus: I am what remains of me, a ghost of who I used to be, Lost in the echoes of a love that couldn’t stay. I am what remains of me, a broken heart and memories, Wandering these empty fields, where we used to play. Bridge: The sunsets still remind me of the warmth of your embrace, But the dawn brings the cold, and the tears upon my face. I keep holding on to moments that have slipped away, Hoping someday I’ll find the strength to face another day. Chorus: I am what remains of me, a ghost of who I used to be, Lost in the echoes of a love that couldn’t stay. I am what remains of me, a broken heart and memories, Wandering these empty fields, where we used to play. Outro: So I’ll ride into the sunset, with the pain that never fades, A lonely cowboy searching for the love that we once made. I am what remains of me, a story left untold, In the heart of a cowboy, who’s lost his way back home.

What Matters Most” October 4, 2024 at 11:41 AM Verse 1: When the sun sets on our journey, and the years have flown on by, We’ll look back on all the memories, with a tear and a sigh. The house we built together, the cars we loved to drive, They’ll fade into the background, as we cherish our sweet life. Chorus: 'Cause when we get to the end of our lives together, The things we owned won’t matter, not the stormy weather. What will matter is the love we shared, so wild and free, What will matter is that I had you, and you had me. Verse 2: Through the highs and lows we wandered, hand in hand through every storm, We found strength in each other, kept each other warm. The treasures of this world, they can’t compare to what we’ve got, A love that’s true and timeless, a love that can’t be bought. Chorus: 'Cause when we get to the end of our lives together, The things we owned won’t matter, not the stormy weather. What will matter is the love we shared, so wild and free, What will matter is that I had you, and you had me. Bridge: So let’s dance beneath the moonlight, and laugh until we cry, Let’s hold each other close, as the years go by. For in the end, it’s not the things, but the love that we will see, What will matter is that I had you, and you had me. Chorus: 'Cause when we get to the end of our lives together, The things we owned won’t matter, not the stormy weather. What will matter is the love we shared, so wild and free, What will matter is that I had you, and you had me. Outro: Yes, what will matter is that I had you, and you had me.

In Your Arms” November 8, 2024 at 10:59 AM Verse 1: All I can do is hold you tight, Spend every moment in your light. Loving you until the end, My heart will break, but it won’t mend. Pre-Chorus: Oh, oh, oh, In your love, I find my song, Oh, oh, oh, In your arms, where I belong. Chorus: I’ll cherish every laugh, every tear, Every memory we hold dear. Though the road ahead is long, I’ll be lost when you’re gone. But in your love, I find my song, In your arms, where I belong. Verse 2: We’ll dance under the moonlit sky, Whisper dreams as the stars pass by. In your eyes, I see my home, With you, I’m never alone. Pre-Chorus: Oh, oh, oh, Even when the nights grow cold, Oh, oh, oh, Your love’s the warmth I’ll always hold. Chorus: I’ll cherish every laugh, every tear, Every memory we hold dear. Though the road ahead is long, I’ll be lost when you’re gone. But in your love, I find my song, In your arms, where I belong. Bridge: Through the storms and through the rain, In your heart, I’ll find my way again. Oh, oh, oh, In your love, I find my song, Oh, oh, oh, In your arms, where I belong. Chorus: I’ll cherish every laugh, every tear, Every memory we hold dear. Though the road ahead is long, I’ll be lost when you’re gone. But in your love, I find my song, In your arms, where I belong. Outro: So here’s to us, to love so true, Every moment spent with you. Though the road ahead is long, I’ll be lost when you’re gone.

IN MEMORY OF ALEKO KONSTANTINOV Too bad Bernard Shaw isn’t alive today, to write a play for Boyko Borisov too! That there are no worthy Bulgarian writers today to make fun of the contemporary Bay Ganyo in Bulgarian politics! Rosen Markov 2024

Death's Embrace - A Soliloquy by Stewart Stafford In sincere tongue, declare with heart: Art thou but a mimic, shadow of the art, Or standest thou bold, architect of the new, Crafting the morrow in thy vision true? Unburden me from this oppressive weight, I cannot bear this overwhelming force. Despair hath found its pinnacle in me, And I must peer into realms unknown, If cherished sight fails me at mine end, I shall renounce all chimeras of the light. But fall not tamely from Life’s precipice, Death presses hard on thy frail fingers, Hold on, cry, resist thy certain ruin! Trouble's court, may yet bestow thee favour. Dreams are but fancies giv’n swift wings, That soar beyond the bounds of reason; In minds that dare to fly unshackled, The dreamer becometh the vision. Love is both a journey and destination: Long and painful upon the path, Unsought, yet blissful when it is found. From dust conjur’d — to stars, we’re turned. Beware the self-righteous man, Whose pride does unseat the very world Before he sees his error. Piteous wounds of thine own hand, 'Tis easy to judge from afar Without walking with aching bones. If there be cause that yet remaineth here, It showeth their harshness and injustice To themselves and their loving others. Mourn their release with mercy and thanks Transient whispers guide along chance’s way. Weep not for those who have found Death’s embrace, They lament for us who tarry on old shores. Death but ushers a veiled dawn, not life's twilight, A metamorphosis of guise, not of the spirit's light. Though we must part for now, we shall be one again. For love’s wrought by flesh, yet holds not its chain. Time-worn age stoops; penitents depart. Pawned as one in vigilant trance But what a folly 'tis to mark the signs of our undoing; Memory's comet trails bequeathed to loved ones left, Contagion's rehearsal on the ephemeral stage. With luck, a stand-in may go on in thy stead. Ere thy final bow becomes unavoidable. With tyrant Death prowling public ways, I turn from mankind hence to seek delight. A chamber ceiling seen upon morn's wake, I say: “The sun does rise? Let's haste away!” Upon waking, a stone tomb's ashen lid, I would perchance say: “Alas!..mine eyes do grow heavy.” A life well-liv’d is not weigh’d by earthly goods Or the number of mourners at the grave. Numerous, deep laugh lines tell the tale, On the face of the person lying still in the crypt, Reveals threescore years and twelve’s true worth. Death is not the villain of the piece; It is the next phase of life, in strange attire. I accept my fate with grace and courage. For I have liv’d and lov’d and dream’d enough. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.

What Am I Gonna Do When You’re Gone August 26, 2024 at 1:59 PM (Verse 1) I see the sunset in your eyes, A love that never fades, it never dies. But time’s a thief, it won’t be long, What am I gonna do when you’re gone? (Chorus) All I can do is hold you tight, Spend every moment in your light. Loving you until the end, My heart will break, but it won’t mend. (Verse 2) We’ll dance under the moonlit sky, Whisper secrets, you and I. Every second, every song, What am I gonna do when you’re gone? (Chorus) All I can do is hold you tight, Spend every moment in your light. Loving you until the end, My heart will break, but it won’t mend. (Bridge) I’ll cherish every laugh, every tear, Every memory we hold dear. Though the road ahead is long, I’ll be lost when you’re gone. (Chorus) All I can do is hold you tight, Spend every moment in your light. Loving you until the end, My heart will break, but it won’t mend. (Outro) So here’s to us, to love so strong, I’ll keep you with me, even when you’re gone.

What is this?" she asked in a trembling voice. He brushed the silken web almost reverently, and she felt the contact within herself, within her spirit. She had felt that touch before, but the memory fluttered from her mind, leaving only shadows in its place. "Don't you recognize it?" She shook her head. "Persephone, this is your thread of life.

A Magic Hour’s Dreaming by Stewart Stafford Is there a sight more fair than wheaten fields, Awaiting the sun's ambush to potently ignite? Colour vibrates beyond the eye revealed, To live, dance and breathe in honeyed light. Nature’s palette, painted hues so bright, Invites the bees to sip and man to dream, Of engineered art, dazzling to the sight, Authored lightning in a celestial seam. The creator’s canvas, mint beyond decay, Invites the inner child to replenish at source, Where Nature’s staff casts shadows away, Friendships bond as a trickling stream's course. An eyeblink flash carved in history's tree, Treasured riches pooled of those by our side. For in sepia’s sunflower memory, We court the hand of an agreeable bride. Fading birdsong underscores this bottled time, In butterfly hearts, the hourglass stilled sublime. Autumn's leaves, ochre embers, curtsied fall, Farewell Summer, until roused in New Year's call. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

Just like you said, Bofurin... is a team that protects the town. And that means our job is to protect everything in the town... including the people and the memories.

Grandpa's Little Angel August 6, 2024 at 9:30 AM [Verse] She's Grandpa's little angel, his shining star, On his knee, she heard tales of days gone by. She brought sunshine to his days, near and far, And in Grandpa's arms, she'd always sigh. [Verse 2] Sunday morning, on the porch they'd sway, With a cup of coffee and a sigh of grace. She'd listen close to every word he'd say, In Grandpa’s embrace, she found her place. [Chorus] In Grandpa’s garden, she'd roam free, Picking flowers with a child's delight. In her eyes, he saw eternity, In her laughter, he found light. [Verse 3] Evenings by the fire, stories turned to song, He'd play the old guitar, she'd hum along. Time stood still for moments so long, In Grandpa's heart, she belonged. [Verse 4] Years have passed, the porch is worn, But memories linger in her heart so clear. Grandpa’s voice in every dawn, Whispering love that never disappears. [Bridge] In dreams, she walks those fields again, Hand in hand with her old friend. He’s the star in her night’s refrain, Guiding her until the end.

Tempting Trouble August 5, 2024 at 9:45 AM [Verse] I see you standing there, a smile that could light up the night, Your eyes are calling me, but I know it wouldn’t be right. You're so tempting, but I got one at home who loves me, This heart’s not wanderin', though it’s tough for you to see. [Verse 2] The jukebox plays a tune, sweet and slow like honey wine, Your voice like velvet, sending shivers down my spine. You're so tempting, but there’s more than just a fling, I've got a love back home, got to protect this golden ring. [Chorus] Oh, tempting trouble, stay away from me, I can’t afford to lose what’s true and meant to be. Your sweet whispers in the dark won't make me stray, Tempting trouble, my heart’s anchored, it won't sway. [Verse 3] You lean in closer, try to get under my skin, But I hear her laughter, reminds me of where I've been. She’s been my rock, through the storms and the rain, And I can’t trade our forever for just another name. [Verse 4] It’s a smoky bar, but I see her face so clear, Her gentle touch, her loving words, always near. So I'll step back, 'cause this dance ain't for free, I’ll take my memories home where they’re s’posed to be. [Chorus] Oh, tempting trouble, stay away from me, I can’t afford to lose what’s true and meant to be. Your sweet whispers in the dark won't make me stray, Tempting trouble, my heart’s anchored, it won't sway.

Wait for Me, Daddy August 8, 2024 at 9:46 AM [Verse] Wait for me, Daddy, she yelled, don't leave me behind, Running down the gravel road, her little shoes untied, The sun sinking low, casting shadows on the pines, A memory carved deep, through the years it still shines. [Verse 2] Wait for me, Daddy, don’t let me go astray, Her small voice trembling in the last light of day, As he hoisted his bag, weariness in his eyes, The weight of the world carried with each goodbye. [Chorus] Wait for me, Daddy, I'm almost home, Through the fields of golden corn, and the wildflowers grown, With every step, with every mile's stone, Wait for me, Daddy, you’re never alone. [Verse 3] Years rolled by like rivers flowing, fast and wild, Her heart stayed true, her spirit reconciled, Letters sent from places he had never known, A father’s love, distant but never overthrown. [Bridge] Through winters harsh and summers that gleamed bright, She held his words close, they became her guiding light, Through the laughter, through the tears unshown, She’d whisper to the stars, “Daddy, call me home.” [Chorus] Wait for me, Daddy, I'm almost home, Through the fields of golden corn, and the wildflowers grown, With every step, with every mile's stone, Wait for me, Daddy, you’re never alone.

A Mind's Minotaur - A Soliloquy by Stewart Stafford In a labyrinth’s mental corridors, prisoner of consciousness, Fleeing a Minotaur I fear is me. Achilles' heel, masked by strength hath shown, An arrow cometh from Time's swift flight, For those with bountiful time enow, Find themselves slain in a heroic light. When thou dost gaze upon the world below, And scorn its depths, thou canst not comprehend The truths that pool o'er its shadow, glow. No tears stain that meadow of solace, A phantom limb, tickling in memory's store, Galley slaves in hurricane's heart so lashed. Transient madness and renown, conjoin on pomp’s bridge, Champions of the joust wave paramour's kerchief, Revered statues limp from a pedestal's ridge. The signs of pride and brittle ardour, The hubristic bite of isolation's cur. The death warrant quill must ne'er be stilled, For authority doth stifle beauty's song, Staged chaos through the written word is willed. Phantasy's balm to verity's scourging, A cleansing soak of battle-scarred minds, And in the dark, imagination reigns. He who hath fear of the dark hath vision keen, Whilst those who see but naught are dull and plain. Thus, let us not be swayed by others' lore, But splay in error, heal to prosper once more. Idolatrous moth to lechery's candlelight, In lover's tongues, passion's seared delight. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

The Romantic Charter by Stewart Stafford Eyes dazzled by romance's shine, Hostage suitor of Cupid and you, A willing disciple of St Valentine, With pierced heart of rosiest hue. Love is the next world's currency, All wealth we must leave behind, Call it the discarnate treasury, A repository of delicacies dined. Even if adoration sours on the lips, Or toxicity springs from intoxication, Nothing erases the first steps of bliss, Or can demolish memory's foundation. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.

etc." I have been searching for my self everywhere, but I can’t find it! I can’t even remember when exactly I lost it… I search for it in everything I love and hate in foreign and familiar cities in all the kind, exhausted, and mean faces… I search for my self near water springs and along river shores On mountaintops and in the scent of wildflowers… Between the branches of olive and fig trees, but without any trace or hope… I search in teacups, in the corners of old cafés In songs and interludes… In books In the memories of everyone who ever knew me Everyone I betrayed or was betrayed by… I search in lines and sentences, But all in vain… I even search unsuccessfully in the sentences that list options, including the examples and each “etc.” after each list of options… I keep wondering how did I so quietly lose it? And each time I ask the loved ones about my strong desire to reunite with my lost self, I realize they have no leads other than long and wide lists of places, things, activities, individuals, and hobbies where I may possibly “find” my self… In each list they suggest, I find countless options and countless lines ending with “etc.” They don’t understand that I have turned every rock and searched behind every “etc.” And today I finally realized That my self wasn’t from here, and thus, it was never here… That, all along, I have been searching for an illusion that never existed… [Original poem published in Arabic on March 11, 2024 at ahewar.org]

you died now and had to choose an eternal memory, it might be this moment in a photograph when you speak your mother tongue, your mother the most powerful woman in the world, both of you unaware of all the future holds as you walk toward your father. A memory you do not remember.

As the year draws to a close, a sense of anticipation mingles with reflection. We stand at the threshold of a new chapter, ready to bid farewell to the familiar & embrace the unknown. In this transitional month, it’s essential to cultivate a healthy, energized & determined attitude, setting the stage for a remarkable finish to 2023 & a vibrant beginning to 2024. Darling listen – I want you to use this new month to do & say all the things that you’ve been putting off. The perfect time to say & do those things that matters is now. I also wish & hope that instead of focusing on what you haven’t achieved, you focus on the milestones you’ve crossed, the growth you’ve experienced & the resilience you’ve demonstrated. Let you celebrate your victories (both big and small) & carry the lessons of your setbacks into the new year. Sweetheart, December, a month of festivities, of togetherness, celebrations, of spreading cheers & goodwill, is the perfect time to cherish all the moments spent with loved ones, the memories created & the lessons learned. Let this month bring you the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for & a pie so big that you’ll need a truck to carry it home… Cheers to a season of success & sweet treats!

You Cheated on Us" December 19, 2024 at 1:54 PM Verse 1: It's so hard to forget the pain, You didn't just break my heart, you left a stain. You didn't just cheat on me, you cheated on us, Now I'm left here, picking up the pieces Chorus: Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? You play with my heart like it's just a game. Every time you leave, it feels the same, Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? Verse 2: Memories of us, they haunt my nights, Your promises were just empty words. You didn't just hurt me, you tore us apart, Now I'm left here, mending my heart. Chorus: Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? You play with my heart like it's just a game. Every time you leave, it feels the same, Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? Bridge: I deserve more than your fleeting love, I need someone who won't give up. So if you're not here to stay, Please just walk away. Chorus: Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? You play with my heart like it's just a game. Every time you leave, it feels the same, Why do you keep coming back if you're not gonna stay? Outro: It's so hard to forget the pain, But I'll find the strength to love again. You didn't just cheat on me, you cheated on us, But I'll rise above, and I'll be enough.

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In Absentia by Stewart Stafford Marbled mirror's stubbled face, Hollow grimace back at me, Each line a verdict crease, From a rigged jury decree. Denial's chant, the siren's call, Dared me to climb meeker backs, Those perps and their victims, The fading dust upon the tracks. Deep scars from a traitor's blade, Like from some coroner's skit, Staggering down memory lane, Déjà vu choking on a peach pit. Then karma's trapdoor gives, The past is not a partner sparred, Hubris's caw now a trembling chick, Wet rope creaks in hangman's yard. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.