Dying people in pre-industrial cultures typically died in the context of an extended family, clan, or tribe.
quote by Stanislav Grof
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The clan is nothing more than a larger family, with its patriarchal chief as the natural head, and the union of several clans by intermarriage and voluntary connection constitutes the tribe.
quote by Charles Eastman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untitled Poem - I
Once, one of my students read a book we had.
She was doing a history assignment on
the decline and fall of the Roman Empire
and crying. When I asked her why
she said Because. All those people died.
I said that if you start to cry for the dead
You won’t have much time for anything else.
Besides, after all the city people were killed
or died off, because their cultures got too high,
the barbarians kept some peasants alive
for their food value. Some barbarian raped
some peasant woman who produced
a child who ultimately produced you
and me, so there is this family continuity,
so don’t cry, it’s obvious, look around!
This is the reason why we Americans
are a nation of peasants and barbarians,
poem by Alan Dugan
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Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.
Jane Howard in Families
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Losses
It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)
In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores--
And turned into replacements and woke up
One morning, over England, operational.
It wasn't different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions--
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school--
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, 'Our casualties were low.'
They said, 'Here are the maps'; we burned the cities.
It was not dying --no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: 'Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die?'
poem by Randall Jarrell
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Want
he wants
or at least wishes
that everyone in the family
be intelligent,
but he knows, of course, this is
not possible at all,
some come out as morons
others turn out later to
be nincompoops,
some though with the way
they speak and write
spelling the words
correctly and
choosing the right words
under the proper
context with which they
are said
and meant, ...become
too promising
to appease what he calls
as bad karma to
the family,
they later give their
true colors,
yes, intelligent but
very corrupt,
at the end he leaves
everything to God,
asking though,
it this really what
it has to be?
a family of wrong
people
and hence somewhere
along the line
one must settle for
compromises
or just leave genetics
as is
and let evolution do
the selection
of who in the family
becomes fit
to survive
well that 's it
i get away from my
wishes
i simply watch the family
go by
like a story without an
expected ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On The Death Of Smet-Smet, The Hippopotamus- Goddess
Song of a tribe of the ancient Egyptians
(The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous? She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd? -- but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.
(The People without)
She sent us pain,
And we bowed before Her;
She smiled again
And bade us adore Her.
She solaced our woe
And soothed our sighing;
And what shall we do
Now God is dying?
(The Priests within)
She was hungry and ate our children; -- how should we stay Her?
She took our young men and our maidens; -- ours to obey Her.
We were loathed and mocked and reviled of all nations; that was our pride.
She fed us, protected us, loved us, and killed us; now She has died.
(The People without)
She was so strong;
But death is stronger.
She ruled us long;
But Time is longer.
She solaced our woe
And soothed our sighing;
And what shall we do
Now God is dying?
poem by Rupert Brooke
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It Does Not Have To Be This Way
Every culture tries to control, manipulate, shame, dominate the other culture, the dominate cultures today where the so called inferior cultures of the past, the so called inferiors to day where the dominate cultures of the past in many or most cases, in their region or in their portion of their continent. This is what individuals do to one another. This is how we are habituated on many levels, but it does not have to be this way. Believe in your self, face this tendency of humanity that we need to grow out of, defend your self from this, rise without putting others down. Weed out dysfunctional patterns of relating, of being that you picked up from your family.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Adopted Friends
At times, we adopt friends
so they become part of our extended family.
We extend them the love
that lives within our hearts
to show them how we really care.
That they are always welcome
into our world night and day,
show them that in their troubled times
that we are there for them twenty-four seven
to help them through.
They are more than friends now
that they have become family,
their hurts are our hurts,
and their pains are our pains.
Therefore, when you adopt a friend
they become more than a friend.
They become a brother or sister to you.
You can talk over your troubles always with them
as they can talk over theirs with you.
After all, they have become family
and family ties lie deeper
than anyone can deny
and they will remain that way
until our dying day.
20 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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This is not a family
This is not a family...
No not to me... a family is people who are there for you they are the people that you trust to make sure your okay they are the people that believe in you and they are the people who will never lie to you and always be honest
This is not a family...
For a family its pretty sad to think we treat one another as nothing talk to eachother as if we dont care for one another and backstab and walk on one another because we can
This is not a family...
I use to think i had it good till i grew up and relized family shouldnt bring eachother down... family shouldnt make you cry... family shouldnt make you think you will be nothing and stay nothing for....
This is not a family...
Instead its just a sad excuse of people who put up with eachother not because they want to but because they have to... for this family that i have i hope that all of you will soon relize before its too late that i love my family... and i believe in my family... and that even though my household is not right at all... i know that i will become something... not because you make me think i cant... its because i believe in myself and with that i know i will someday do great things...
FOR this is not a family...
but it is my family
poem by Andrea Thanasas
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An Epidemic Of Melancholy Proportions
an epidemic of melancholy proportions
is sweeping through many societies countries
despair dejection sadness misery hopelessness
are recession downturn decline consequences
suicide globally haunts many countries cultures
suicide globally engulfs preys upon countries cultures
many countries cultures ethnic societies
never even developed coined a word for depression
yet globally according to recent studies
fifty percent of women suffer episodes of depression
yearly mainly
each at least
a single episode
as opposed
to only ten
percent of men
ask the question
is depression
an issue the world
should take seriously...
one million people a year
are cured permanently
one million people a year succeed
in their attempts at suicide
issue depression needs countries cultures to address
society wide ways to address negative mind problems
depression has become a diabolical mind field killer
when will we learn to honour all our human family?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Hydrocarbon Cat
I am the Hydrocarbon Cat,
And you are my Copy Cat,
I am on display,
And part of your dismay.
My kerosine made light,
And I pushed back the night,
I extended your pay,
And extended your working day.
My Industrial Revolution,
Rolled over you, my Human Being,
You refine flesh and bone,
I refine gasoline.
Scrutinize me critically,
In your suburban community,
But when it's time to go to work,
Do come crawling back to me.
I'm the Hydrocarbon Cat,
Are you aware of who you are?
Take your time, I've got all day,
I'll see you in your car.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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You don't have to give birth to someone to have a family. We're all family, an extended family.
Sandra Bullock in Harper's Bazaar
Submitted by Alexandru Uvra
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The Bible was written in several languages, embraces many literary forms, and reflects cultures very different from our own. These are important considerations for properly understanding the Bible in its context.
quote by Troy Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will
Misunderstanding will be reversed with love.
Languages and cultures
You live and choose correctly as you are.
Someone will be there,
watching over you,
recognizing you
good
extended
whirling up
I've Been Reading....
a lot, yes a lot,
i have never stopped reading
that is what they want
they want a mind
a very well read man
with a very sharp mind
for what purpose then?
it is not a sharp mind for sharp mind's sake
you know what i mean
it is a castle with a moat
a parapet with a sharp shooter guard
you know what i mean
what they need is someone they can use
and use so well
for their own ends... a sharp mind
which can shoot like a gun
and shoot rapidly and
accurately
to kill all the enemies of the family
one that can protect this clan
and protect it
so well, and not just that,
but one who can go beyond it
amass other people's wealth
twist arguments in the family's favor
oh yes, i read a lot
and have more knowledge and a deeper understanding
Papa died a long time ago
he lost his fortune and brother says
that i who has a sharper mind than him
shall recover
what we have lost...
and must take revenge
and take what is not ours, oh yes, and go beyond all those
rules
and go around them
and this is where
i surrender, something that i understand so well
and hence
cannot do
what i am being told to do.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Quiver
Quiver,
Bath,
Opportunity,
Inheritance;
Of the tribe and a clan in the land of your lovely muse!
And like your sweet apples as seen by my eyes of love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Man Died
The man died and died and died
And finally the man died!
People killed the man severally
Before the man finally died
The mans family labelled
The man dead.
The community labelled
The man dead
.
And above all the man saw in Himself a living ghost
And had since decayed and rotted inside
That not even the warmt
Of a living blood
Could've been enough
To bring the man back
To life again.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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His First Hug
his first hug
was not his
mother's
for
she died
on the first
day of his life,
neither his father's
coz he died
when the war
came about
long time
ago
not his
grandpa's
neither his
grandma's
no, not
hers
it was
from his
gay teacher
in the context
of a molestation
but he did not say
any word about it
simply because it was his first hug and it made him
feel wonderful
that he could
not really
forget
it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A family's photograph album is generally about the extended family and, often, is all that remains of it.
quote by Susan Sontag
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People's Lying
People's lying here, people's lying there
People's lying everywhere
People's dying here, people's dying there
People's dying everywhere
People's dying 'cos people's lying
People's crying 'cos people's lying
People's denying that they is lying
No-one's defying all this lying
Even people who's dying still keep lying
So more people's crying
More people's dying
'Cos people's only know lying
(Sydney, Australia - 2007)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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