I have lived eighty years of life and know nothing for it, but to be resigned and tell myself that flies are born to be eaten by spiders and man to be devoured by sorrow.
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Born To Die
Just a baby
On a doorstep
Its how they found me
Cold and hungry
Raised on hatred
Fed by strangers
As a young girl
I often wondered
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
People push me
Knock me down
My foster parents
Kicked me around
They brought me up on
Loneliness
I never had me
A single friend
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
Must be someone
In this world
Who can save me
From myself
Or am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
Am I born to die
Never having lived
Am I born to die
Without love
In my life
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heritage Hills Class Of Eighty-One
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Here it is, the year two thousand eleven
Thirty years, thirty years, where did it go
Saddened to learn a few are gone on to Heaven
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
My, oh my, where did the time fly
Wow…victories, tears, joy, and fun
Being a grandparent is love not to deny
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Some led the life of the moth to the flame
Many went on to higher knowledge
Knowing happiness in a life that's tame
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
One time Providence dealt us a course unknown
We handled it, conquered it, survived it
Now, we bask in seeing our children grown
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Yes, we are middle aged and gray
A few aches, a few pains, but no complaints
It's class reunion time…oh what a great day
poem by Charles Hancock
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I had a thought on your funeral...
Eighty years of life
on this Earth
Was it worth?
I had a thought on your funeral.
Eighty years ago in heaven
when you were just the soul
and wanted to forever become
a part of this whole
You urged God to grant you a life
And promised
you would this time achieve your goal
But did you keep your promise at all?
I had a thought on your funeral.
The aim of your taking birth was
Service, contribution and asceticism
You instead chose
Hoarding, platitude and hedonism
God prescribed
Love, joy and compassion
On your life you inscribed
Jealousy, gloom and repression
I had a thought on your funeral.
Childhood’s dawn wiped out in dependence
Lust devoured on the morning of adolescence
Youth’s noon you squandered
due to fear and apprehension
Dusk of old age got totaled in
egotism, vanity and pretension
I had a thought on your funeral.
I asked myself
Was I any different from you?
Was I keeping my own promise to God?
The response from within came in negative
My heart did not give the nod
Seeing you sleeping in God’s lap
with a performance that was dismal
Your funeral appeared to me
as God’s signal
And I realized I had a chance to change
before I reached my own burial.
I had a thought on your funeral.
(30.08.2011; New Delhi; India)
poem by Anshul Gupta
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I Sowed for Sorrow
In my inner grove, I sowed for sorrow.
Oh, how it grew below my skies,
such marvelous sight in my eyes.
I lived for sorrow -
till it grew too large in my grove,
I wept;
and watered my sorrow with tears.
I sowed for sorrow till it lived
and grew so strong, so fine.
It lived to take away my life...
It lived and then I died.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Spiders In The Night
Spiders in the night
Creeping round the walls
Now you'll feel him
Crawling over you
Creepy crawly things
Filling up your bed
Soon you'll feel him
Crawling through your brains
You think he's there
Beware his bite
But when you look
The spider's not in sight
Spiders reappear
Taking peoples names
Everything is taken down insane
There's no way out
And there's no key
But here's a clue
The spider's really me
You're written in his book
The spider won't forget
You won't forget
The spiders in the night
The end is going night
Itsy witsy friends
The spiders disappearing from the night
You think he's gone
You think he's dead
There's no escape
The spiders in your head
All the spiders in the night
All the spiders in the night
All the spiders in the night
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne from Bark At The Moon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crime of Life
Life seems but a memory of years
Gone by too fast.
Before we can live the present,
The future is the past.
Tomorrow is yesterday;
An instant is today.
The present is just a pause
Along past's fleeting way.
Seconds tick, days go by
And years bow out of sight.
Time speeds on as days are born;
Then devoured by each night.
Mankind's curse is overlooked
By Old Father Time, who steals
Our precious gift
With life's most hideous crime.
This crime of life is in its passing;
The days, the years that fleet by.
Almost before a chance to live,
It seems we're given a chance to die.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Life Lived Of A Belching Frog
Is the life lived of a belching frog,
More important than the one...
Sitting quietly on a lily pad,
Looking at its reflection...
On a mirror smooth pond?
Or is the frog that belches,
Showing more appreciation...
For the flies that are attracted.
And the reason that a belching frog,
Could care less about an image reflected.
But expresses a gratefulness for the feast,
Available to be eaten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sorrow
I walked into the park and saw a young man sitting by a flower bed
I asked him why he looked so miserable and this is what he said,
“Sixty years ago I fell in love with a beautiful girl and now she has to die
I knew her time would come one day, but the years have just flashed by.
I knew that it was wrong to love her, but my heart ruled over my head.
I was there when she was born at home and I stood by her mother’s bed.
As the years passed I watched over her, and proposed when she was sixteen.
She was so young and beautiful then, and everyday we lived a dream.
She didn’t know that I was different and I just couldn’t bear to tell her so,
but she had suspicions as her hair greyed, and my age didn’t show.
And now my heart is breaking because I want to die and be with my wife,
without her my life isn’t worth living, and I no longer want this life.
For sixty years life has been wonderful for me and my only true love,
but soon I must take her up and leave her in the heavens above.
I don’t know how I’m going to take the woman I adore from my side.
I’m sorry for sharing my sorrow with you, ” and as he left he cried.
poem by Orlando Belo
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1984
Nineteen eighty four
Someday they wont let you
Now you must agree
The time they are a telling
And the changing isnt free
You read it in the tea leaves
And the reacks are on tv
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Theyll split your pretty cranium
And fill it full of air
Theyll tell you that youre eighty
And really you wont care
Youll be shooting up on everything
Tomorrows never there
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Im looking for a vehicle
Im looking for a ride
Im looking for a party
Im looking for a side
Im looking for a treason
That I knew in sixty five
Beware the savage door
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Action
"Wherefore is it that we live and die?"
Who thus questioned lived a life of light,
And full many a soul in sorrow's night
Blest him in its thought when out of sight;
While each child of misery passing by
Knew why he was born, but not why he should die.
"For God’s glory do we live and die:"
Who thus answered thrust the asker out
With the unforgiven, for his doubt;
Yet his own life was a silent flout
To the God whom it should glorify:
None knew why he was born, or why he should not die.
poem by Charlotte Fiske Bates from Century Magazine, vol. 49 (1894)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Say Goodbye
Ive seen and done it all, it seems
Ive cried for all its worth a few times
I lived and loved in search of truth
Ive seen a lot of pain, oh, oh, oh
To finally realize, the reason for this life
Is to say goodbye to sorrow
Dont hang on to the tears we borrow
Say goodbye to sorrow and feel
That we are so free
We are free
Ive seen the bottom once or twice
Ive soared above the earth as suddenly
Ive made a few mistakes its true
Ive seen enough of hate, oh, oh, oh
To finally realize theres not much more to life
Than to say goodbye to sorrow
Dont hold on to the fears we borrow
Just say goodbye to sorrow and feel
That we are so free
We are free
We may long for happiness
Pray to God that we be blessed
Save us from this loneliness
After all that Ive been through
I believe the thing to do
Is to look inside of you
And just say goodbye to sorrow
Dont give up all the years weve borrowed
Say goodbye to sorrow and feel
That we are so free
We are free
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Billions Billions Alive Today
Officially half of all the human beings
who have ever lived are alive today.
The entire population of all human history
an equivalent of all humans who ever lived.
Half entire human race who were ever born
are alive on earth now living on earth today.
Asia China India regionally 2.5 billion alive today
in fifty years Asian population will double triple?
In fifty years planet earth will need to produce more
food than has presently by humans ever been eaten?
Are these food figures statistics not impossible odds?
Famine pestilence war pandemics what future awaits?
Will compassion seeds flower in collective soul humanity?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We are all of us resigned to death: it's life we aren't resigned to.
quote by Graham Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was born in Liverpool in England, and I lived there for the first nine years of my life.
quote by Peter Shaffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was born in Texas and I lived there 'till I was 8. Then I moved to the Dominican Republic with my mom, lived there for two years and forgot every word of English I knew.
quote by Michelle Rodriguez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Park
Muddy steps of raven's heads
Fasting of mould bread
crawling, like wood worms of storm
Hunted by passes of moon golden rocks.
Not here yet, but dear so.
I hide myself, and my hollow wealth of tarragon flavor.
Where new-born flowers hatching, in the womb of my eye's
mother's grass warm sun.
Like arms holding life,
webs of branches' tree,
Hide spiders' leafs, caught in the opening light
dazzles fading flies.
poem by Luca Menin
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Life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of eighty and gradually approach eighteen.
quote by Mark Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990
I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Had I lived another life
Had I lived another life
~
Had I lived another life
What would I have to show in equal years
Would I be loved instead of just loving
And know the lasting secret to another’s heart
How would I then count my mistakes
Would my company be welcomed not accepted
It is a fruitless thought to be considered
For the never will be a known answer
I am but the sum of all my years combined
I harbour my guilt and shameful pride
Those words I wish to take back
And the others I now wished I had now said
Had I lived another life
Would I carry these same regrets
Would I know sorrows of yet another unkind
There are things which have shaped me
That I would happily go back and change
Perhaps in another life I may well feel the same
For all the unknown reasoning’s
One thing stands out as a certain
That life is a gift, a gift to the living
poem by Matthew Holloway
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