I don't know whether there is anyone else at all who remembers my noble father with such sadness.
quote by Egon Schiele
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Father, son, spirit
The father conceives his son
the son grows with his father
the spirit allows the heritage
Father, son, spirit. The father says sweet things to his son
the son is a rosebud to his father
the spirit remembers the instant of conception
Spirit, father, son. The father works, gladly
the son at school, learns much
the spirit, lovingly, joins them
Son, father, spirit The son makes his father, a good father
the union of father and son,
is the work of the spirit of love
Spirit, son, father.
poem by Teresa Gonzalez-Lee
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Maverick
He remembers the backstabbing laughter.
And the heartfelt pain.
He remembers the innuendoed gossip...
And the slander done to him,
Still within him often remains.
He remembers his loved ones...
As some withered and died.
He remembers crying alone,
With no one to confide.
He remembers his struggles,
With aches in his body that persisted.
He remembers failed relationships...
With those who could not resist,
Communicating nothing but lies and conflict!
He remembers all of it,
And sometimes with a hidden bitterness that sits!
He remembers what it took,
To get released...to become unhooked.
With faith and a stick-to-itness,
Feeling as if dragging cinder blocks on each foot.
He remembers once being called a maverick!
And how today...
His maverick ways,
Bestows upon him a happiness...
Chartered by conviction.
And nothing he read from 'how-to-do' books.
Or afflictions of limiting restrictions.
Could he do it 'all' over again?
Probably not!
And why would he choose to?
To prove what?
And to who?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sadness Is A Major Theme Of Mine
Sadness is a major theme of mine
I am sad a lot
I am not sure why -
My father was the saddest person I have ever known
Perhaps its that-
But life is sad
It has so much sadness in it-
Yesterday a very good friend of mine
Was pronounced incurably ill
So many friends of our recently
Have become very ill-
Aging brings much sadness with it-
So much sadness -
Inside I have too much joy too and peace and calm
I have those things also-
But sadness is always here or waiting to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Tribute To Our Fathers
Black sheep son's father
What a grief to be!
Fool's teacher doth but
Potsherds glues apiece.
Father's heroism ring out
And blessing rain upon yourself;
At noble father cock a snook
And basket-full sorrows harvest.
The flo'er of youth maximize
But not 'gainst noble father.
Better "No" when 'live and strong
Than spite at his solemn sleep.
Cock your ear and be under his wings
For o'er you The Supreme honours him.
Father's blessing the son's hand strengthens
But father's curse a fatal road paves.
Yourself never praise
On your father's snub;
His disdain yours is,
His praise yours too is.
poem by Christian Tobechukwu Okafor
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The Memory of Water (for Scarlet)
Water remembers you
falling now on your sleeping face
waking you from dreams
with its surprise
after you fell asleep
at your first pinic.
Water remembers your childish
laughter.
Water remembers you
holding your body
in its body
as you learn not to fear it
as you learn the words float...sink...swim.
Water remembers you
becoming its friend.
Water remembers you
diving into its honeymoon waters
becoming fishes....kisses
lasting from here to eternity.
Water remembers two
delerious skinnydippers.
Water remembers you
crying in its rain
sobbing 'I'll never fall in love again! '
as if you were an old 1950's tune.
Water remembers such tears
hiding them in its rain.
Water remembers you
laughing in the rain
having fallen in love again
so quick to change
your tune.
Water remembers you
laughing here we go again.
Water remembers you
soaking wet in a sudden thunder storm
flowers held in your hand
having lost their heads
presenting her
with nothing but stalks.
Water remembers you
having to wear her old dress
as she dried your clothes.
Water remembers
kisses lost amonst the roar of a fire.
Water remembers you
& is saddened to find you
with no answers
with no questions
here on this bridge
reflecting itself
here in its depths
where only silence lives
holding you
as before
only water
remembers your death.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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My Sadness Is Who I Am Also
MY SADNESS IS WHO I AM ALSO
My sadness is who I am also-
It weighs in me-
It sinks through my eyes-
Even in my laughter and joy
It complicates and questions-
Sadness is so so deep in me-
Why I do not know.
I see my father’s eyes in me
In all mirrors-
Grief is for the long gone and long ago-
Part of Sadness is this also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sadness Is Twilight
SADNESS IS TWILIGHT
Sadness is twilight
Sadness is old age
Sadness is the waiting
For one who will not come-
Sadness is this fading inside
This sinking we cannot define-
Sadness is this sadness
This loss of all meaning
And all rhyme.
Sadness is sadness
Fading and decline.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sailor's Prayer
O, winds of conflict
blow my father not into anxious harbors
O, tides of sadness
carry my father not into perilous seas
O, waves of loneliness
look after my father and out of harm's way
O, coastline of hope
bring my father hastily home to me
poem by Laura A. Ehle
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My Sadness Sleeps With Me
MY SADNESS SLEEPS WITH ME
My sadness sleeps with me
It wakes with me
It sings with me
My sadness walks with me
And smiles with me
And laughs with me
My sadness stays with me
And does not want to go anywhere without me
My sadness is me
And I am my sadness
All the way
To the end
Sadness in me as my sad friend.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Machine
Lost machine, giant maze
Big engine, cruising space
Ozone years, controlled daze... keeps the engine running
Silver beams, analyze
Robot teams, supervise
That was then, this is now... it must run anyhow
Don't you try, to know why
We can't talk, close that door
My father, remembers
Grand-father, remembers
Patc
I can tell, this is hell
No one talks, no one talks
One day will we understand
How much the future is here right now?
One day will they understand...
How true... the future is here, and how!
Remain silent
Lost machine, never fails
3-D screen, one message
Keep working, generate... it's the same everyday
Don't you try, to know why
I can't talk, close that door
My father gave me a small stone that he received from his father. This
stone was brought from earth by our early ancestors over 3OO years ago,
since the machine started working. Our mission... my mission, to reach
central control and throw it into some vital part of the main engine...
and blow the precious generator... I do not want to have to pass this
down to my own son
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short Memory
We have short memory
Only express regret and sorry
Occasionally utter some words and offer solace
Relatively under sadness or what ever the case
Life has become very cheap and unworthy
Yet some of the services deserve sympathy
They are put above the entire existing one
As very noble and praise worthy work has been done
No t that life is not dear
Not that they are unaware and hear
All types of demoralizing stories and motives
Yet they remain aloof and subjective
Death is certain for any living individual
It must be treated as certainty and takes as casual
Yet no one throws away life for silly causes
It is demanded only when some danger clouds chase
There might some black sheep as well
But here some different story is to tell
No one stops work for a while
It is pursued relentlessly in its own style
We mourn the death and proclaim sacrifice
Put all kinds of honor on his demise
Nation remembers his adventure for holding flag
His body is carried away in carriage with simple tag
“Here lays great son of the soil” the wordings may be read
Nation remembers his heroic struggle and may be lead
Words not to supplement the loss but to commemorate
His upholding of rituals which fairly stand above and relate
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Father And Daughter
on a chair father sits
and daughter sits on his lap
mother is away
and father whistles a song
it was a long time
and mother dies earlier
than father
the daughter sets on a sail
far away
no one knows where
but everyone remembers
the talk becomes the official story
of the town
pretending to be happy just like any other
town in our history
the father dies and daughter
comes back
bringing the flowers
she lights a candle
she sheds no tears
poem by Suki Nakamura
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Went To Where My Sadness Is
I WENT TO WHERE MY SADNESS IS
I went to where my sadness is
I named it
The naming was not enough
Nothing changed
The sadness only grew deeper and deeper
I went to where my sadness is
It no longer had a name
I tried to find it
I could not
All around me and inside me
It had become who I am
My sadness is my name
And my name now is my sadness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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T-bone
Me and t-bone on the road to town
Its like Im walking with a talking machine
Just as soon as he thinks of something else
He wont wait to interrupt himself
Must be something that he cant quite say
He just doesnt want to leave it that way
Although he may not know it yet
Unless I miss my bet
Hes just trying to forget
What his heart remembers
I see that t-bone got an automobile
Low-loping and open to the sky
All night behind the hurricane wheel
Riding in the eye
All day underneath the hood
Mondo bondo, plastic wood
He needs a mile of masking tape
He wants to keep his ship in shape
Someday to escape
What his heart remembers (oh, yes,what his heart remembers)
T-bones not alone, not alone
Looks like he gets a second chance
Its mamarama and lumalamalu
Want to take him to recovery dance
Hes looking like he gets his meat suit back
I guess he must have missed the crack attack
Still hes riding for a fall
cause its written upon the wall
That now he must recall
What his heart remembers (what his heart remembers)
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prayer For The Unbelievers
Father, you see it all before you,
The sadness and the strife;
You watch from heaven's portals,
As we go about our life.
Some deny you Father,
and claim you are not there;
but they are not your sons,
or daughters -
They know not the meaning of prayer.
They think that life's a crapshoot,
Some win, some falter, some lose;
Father, they do not know you gave us,
The will and the wisdom to choose.
We can choose to follow the self,
and contend to be number one;
Or we can give all to you, Father,
It's yours when the final day is done.
There are some so blind,
they cannot see,
some so deaf, they cannot hear -
They stumble from day to day,
They live for themselves
and have no fear.
Father, I know that you forgive them,
For they know not what they do -
The prayers of us all, go out to them,
That they come to know but you.
poem by David Lessard
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The Sadness Comes
THE SADNESS COMES
The Sadness comes without Reason
The Sadness comes for so many reasons.
The Sadness comes,
And will always come.
There is no Life without the Sadness
The Sadness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Sadness Of Loneliness
THE SADNESS OF LONELINESS
The sadness of loneliness-
I had forgotten it-
I have been away for a long time
But now in the late afternoon
In the quiet and emptiness
Of the usually bustling streets
It comes back to me quietly-
The sadness of loneliness
That we are alone in the world
Each one of us alone
And that sometimes no matter
Where we are
We remember it-
The sadness of loneliness
A Quiet sadness
A sad sadness
A lonely sadness
Alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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