Twilight
So Mary died last night! To-day
The news has travelled here.
And Robert died at Michaelmas,
And Walter died last year.
I went at sunset up the lane,
I lingered by the stile;
I saw the dusky fields that stretched
Before me many a mile.
I leaned against the stile, and thought
Of her whose soul had fled--
I knew that years on years must pass
Or e'er I should be dead.
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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
Wish You Were Here
Funny how the years
They just pass us by
Seems like yesterday
You were in my life
You always wanted
To start a family
I was way too young
I was runnin' free
If you could only see me now
You'd realize
I'm not the boy who
Made you cry
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
Oh
Wish you were here with me
I thought I knew it all
How stupid could I be?
I think of all I had
And it makes me weak
If you could only see me now
You'd realize
I'm not the boy who
Made you cry
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
Oh
Wish you were here with me
Sometimes
You hurt the ones who love you most
And sometimes
You hold the ones who leave you lost
And sometimes
You learn but it's too late
It's too late
You gave yourself
I didn't see it
You died in me
I should've saved you
You gave yourself
Why did you give yourself to me?
You died in me
Why was I too blind to see?
Oh
Oh
Oh
Wish you were here with me
Funny how the years
Just pass us by
song performed by by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day I Died
The air was close, but it would not rain
The day I died.
And smog enshrouded Gotham town
The day I died..
I should have stayed in Oceanside
The day I died.
Instead of a hellish subway ride
The day I died.
It started with a stabbing pain
The day I died.
Then waves of nausea deep inside
The day I died.
I fell to earth, I could not breathe
The day I died.
Co workers rushing to my side
The day I died.
Sirens scream on distant streets
The day I died.
bringing hosts of E.M.T.’s
The day I died..
Too late for me, this proud heart fails
The day I died.
I thought” This is the last of Earth”
The day I died.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Wish You Were Here (With Me)
Funny how the years,
They just pass us by
Seems like yesterday,
You were in my life
You always wanted to start a family
I was way too young,
I was runnin' free
[Chorus]
If you could only see me now,
You'd realise
I'm not the boy who made you cry
You gave yourself,
I didn't see it
You died in me,
I should have saved you
Wish you were here with me
I thought i knew it all,
How stupid could i be
I think of what i had,
And it makes me weep
[Repeat chorus]
Sometimes,
You hurt the ones who love you most
And sometimes,
You hold the ones who leave you lost
And sometimes
You learn, but it's too late
It's too late
You gave yourself,
I didn't see it
You died in me,
I should have saved you
You gave yourself
Why did you give youself to me
You died in me,
Why was i too blind to see
Wish you were here with me
(funny how the years, they just pass us by)
song performed by by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Died
Joy Mukherjee
Died.
Dharam Dev
Pishorimal
Anand,
Also known as
Dev Anand -
Died.
Bhupen Hazarika
Died.
Jagmohan (Jagjit)
Singh Ji died.
Mansoor Ali Khan
Pataudi died.
They all
Did their
Best -
And died.
I'm also
Doing my
Best -
So that
You don't
Complain:
She didn't do
Anything ;)
She just
Existed -
And died!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Grand-Father's Clock
My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Long Ago
I loved a maiden, long ago,
She held within her hand my fate;
And in the ruddy sunset glow
We lingered at the garden gate.
The splendor of the western skies
Lay in a halo on her hair.
I gazed with worship in her eyes,
And deemed her true and knew her fair.
'Good night,' I said, and turned away;
She held me with her subtle smile.
I saw her red lips whisper 'stay,'
And so I lingered yet awhile.
'I love you, love you, sweet!' I said,
She laughed, and whispered, 'I love you.'
I kissed her small mouth, ripe and red,
And knew her fair, and deemed her true.
'Twas very, very long ago,
And I was young, and so was she;
My faith as love was strong, for oh!
The maid was all the world to me.
But as the sunset died away
And left the heavens cold and blue,
So died my dream of love one day.
The maid was only fair,
not
true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Here Lie's The truth
“Here Lies the truth”,
On Her tombstone this will be wrote.
It was never spoke when She was living,
So also in death, it will be unspoke.
By Her it was never said
it was as though pulling out Her soul,
So here lies the truth and herself dead
Both has died in sadness and woe.
Here lies the truth,
Not once by her was it cried,
Not in the days that she was living,
Not even in the day that She had died.
She must of believed that it was a sin
To open Her heart and listen to the word
So She closed her heart and locked it shut,
And She never believed in no one but Her.
Here lies the truth,
It lived but a very short life,
Though the Woman died of years of age
The truth though, never had a chance to try.
Everyone She knew had learned Her lie
They never believed a word that she said
So when She finally tried to speak the truth,
Her heart stopped; and She laid dead.
Here lies the truth
It lived but a very short life,
It was loved by neither Child or Man,
For they believe its living was but a lie.
So here in the grave it will lay dead
As it had lived in this woman's soul,
Never again will it be uttered or thought of,
Never till the end of time will it be thought of or known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Child of Promise
She died — as die the roses
On the ruddy clouds of dawn,
When tlie envious sun discloses
His flame and morning's gone. ,
She died—like waves of sun -glow
By fleeting shadows chased;
She died— like heaven's rainbow
By gushing showers effaced.
She died—like snow glad-gracing
Some sea-marge fair, when lo !
Rude waves each other chasing,
Quick hide it 'neath their flow.
She died— as dies the glory
Of music's sweetest swell
:
She died—as dies the story
When the best is still to tell
She died— as dies moon-beaming.
When scowls the rayless main :
She died— like sweetest dreaming
Quick changed to waking pain.
She died— and died she early ;
Heaven wearied for its own.
As the dipping snn, my Mary,
Thy morning ray went down !
poem by Evan MacColl
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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bring him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three Years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bnng him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Jack
Jack was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
He worked thirty years on the railroad, ten hours a day, and his hands were tougher than sole leather.
He married a tough woman and they had eight children and the woman died and the children grew up and went away and wrote the old man every two years.
He died in the poorhouse sitting on a bench in the sun telling reminiscences to other old men whose women were dead and children scattered.
There was joy on his face when he died as there was joy on his face when he lived—he was a swarthy, swaggering son-of-a-gun.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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I Just Died In Your Arms
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must have been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
I keep looking for something
I can't get broken hearts lie all around me
And i don't see an easy way to get out of this
Her diary it sits on the bedside table
The curtains are closed
The cats in the cradle who would've thought
That a boy like me could come to this
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must've been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must've been some kind of kiss i should've walked away
Is there any just cause for feeling like this?
On the surface i'm a name on a list i try to be discreet
But then blow it again
I've lost and found
It's my final mistake she's loving by proxy
No give and all take 'cos i've been thrilled to fantasy one too many times.
Oh i, i just died in your arms...
It was a long hot night she made it easy
She made it feel right
But now it's over the moment has gone
I followed my hands not my head
I know i was wrong
Oh i, i just died in your arms...
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today I Died Again
The human drum
Beats a rhythm of life
The clothes he wears
Date back to the war
He talks alot
Often to himself
She dont say much
Just cuts his hair
She cant remember
Before the heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Towers in sand
America can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Back to a year
Back to a youth
Of men in church and drug cabarets
Is this the age
Of empires and dance
Oh what a world
Oh what a world
She cant remember
Before this heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Bodies in sand
Presidents can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Died Today
if i died today
what would you say
if i died today
what would you do
would you cry
because i left you alone
or would you hate me
because we are bound by blood
if i died today
would you kill yourself
because you failed as my gaurdian
if you died today
id weep black tears
and as my soul shattered
id wish to be with you again
in our other world
but if i died today
you would try to bring me bak
even if it killed you
but in the very end you would realize
all i wanted
was for you to live
and to protect my body
so that i may once again return.
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus
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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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How many times has God died for me?
HOW MANY TIMES HAS GOD DIED FOR ME?
How many times has God died for me?
Yes, he’s died
And time and time again
As I’ve written in my book
How many times has God died for me?
How many times has God died for me?
A useful if cryptic phrase
Nietzsche coined in the 19th century
“When Zarathustra was alone, however,
he said to his heart:
'Could it be possible!
This old saint in the forest
hath not yet heard of it,
that God is dead! '
How many times has God died for me?
Each time I’ve had a paradigm shift
In my theological perspective
The God I had died and was replaced
Not by no God but a new God
How many times has God died for me?
A new God but still my God
The product of my heart and my head
A bit less Trinitarian
A bit closer to my own self
How many times has God died for me?
Now he’s not up there nor out there
But in there, a personal creation
Adaptable and changing with circumstances
According to my living, according to my reading.
How many times has God died for me?
I have no room for a God who is exclusive
I have no room for a God who is dogmatic
I have no room for a God, who is sexist,
Racist, anti-gay and British.
How many times has God died for me?
Yes God, my God, needed to die
And be reborn, reinvented
In a more user-friendly package.
So to make God more like me is to make God more PC!
How many times has God died for me?
Till God has become indistinguishable from me
God close to me, God in me
An undying God-sense
A God made to fit every circumstance
A God made to fit every mood
That God will never die for me
Even when I die I pray he will accompany me
The undying God
Who never died on Calvary
Who never died with Nietzsche.
©2009
James Hart
poem by James Hart
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Mary O
She went to Dublin in the late sixties off hand can't say what year
For to live with her only child her daughter Peg O Deere
And still her happy laughter comes to me from long ago
The heart and soul of Claraghatlea kindhearted Mary O.
The only daughter of Mary and Jack the Master her only brother Jack
Died in England many years ago of a major heart attack
And Mary O outlived them all and 'tis said she's still going strong
And may she live to be over one hundred years and may her life be long.
I've known her since I was young lad since I was knee high tall
A mentor of my childhood years and one I still recall
She must have been over forty years when I was a schoolgoing boy
And with her happy hearty laugh she spread the gifty of joy.
In my memory she is still quite young she never did grow old
In her mid life when I was a boy she has a heart of gold
And I still hear her hearty laugh across the miles away
And I'll remember Mary O till my own final day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Hearing Of The Death Of Kevin Hickey
Sad news a news that travels far and wide
And I was told of how young Kevin Hickey died
On the Shannaknock road of his car he lost control
And the reaper claimed his body not his soul.
He was pre-deceased by his Mother Kathleen
And his better days in life he had not seen
And his father John is left to bear sorrow's cross
And grieve the tragedy of his heart-breaking loss.
And though the accident that claimed young Kevin's life happened a few years ago
The scars of grief to heal are always slow
And the pain at the loss of his son in such a tragic way
With John Hickey till his own end will stay.
At the spot where Kevin died John erected a grotto as a memorial to his son
And it would seem that is as much as anyone could have done
To honour some one that they loved so dear
Such stories of love are heartening to hear.
I have heard of how young Kevin Hickey died
And such sad news does travel far and wide
And his remains will rest in peace forever more
But his soul lives on the soul has wings to soar.
poem by Francis Duggan
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