A Very Strange Tale
An unexpected and unknown pregnancy
That ushered a series of events
Brought Susan in a state of emergency
Confused in her predicament.
The doctor said she had miscarried
And the bleeding she had was not usual
Her fiance, they were to be married
But now they ended at the hospital.
So they brought her there for surgery
With only her boyfriend now in tow
She called up her mother and said briefly:
'Mom, they're operating on me, you must know.'
When the frantic mother had arrived
Poor Susan was covered in a white sheet.
The mother was told she did not survive
While on surgery, her Death she did meet.
Her sister said she could not believe it -
She had seen Susan in their room weeping,
She was on the bed, dressed in hospital sheets
Crying 'What have they done? I'm aching! '
The sister then asked her. 'How are you?
Are you alright? ' In a flash she had quickly gone
The strangest and weirdest thing came true -
That was the death time of a departed Susan.
Now at night at the hospital corridors
Night shift nurses hear someone weeping
Though dismissed as some silly horrors
Some still see a sad Susan there walking.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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Black-eyed Susan
Black-eyed susan
You make us nervous
Because were very aware that you do not care
Oh, black-eyed susan
What dont you believe in ?
No is always easier than yes
Whoo !
Black-eyed susan
You must insist :
You are a born-again atheist, oh
Oh, heavy-rings on
Bitten fingers
Black-eyed susan sometimes
Shakes to break
So, watch it
Oh ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Please remember
We were the first
We were the first
Oh ...
song performed by by Morrissey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The End Of May
'Our governess is not in school,
So we may talk a bit;
Sit down upon this little stool,
Come, little Mary, sit:
'And, my dear playmate, tell me why
In dismal black you're drest?
Why does the tear stand in your eye?
With sobs why heaves your breast?
'When we're in grief, it gives relief
Our sorrows to impart;
When you've told why, my dear, you cry,
'Twill ease your little heart.'
'O, it is trouble very bad
Which causes me to weep;
All last night long we were so sad,
Not one of us could sleep.
'Beyond the seas my father went,
'Twas very long ago;
And he last week a letter sent
(I told you so, you know)
'That he was safe in Portsmouth bay,
And we should see him soon,
Either the latter end of May,
Or by the first of June.
'The end of May was yesterday,
We all expected him;
And in our best clothes we were dressed,
Susan, and I, and Jim.
'O how my poor dear mother smiled,
And clapped her hands for joy;
She said to me, 'Come here, my child,
And Susan, and my boy.
''Come all, and let us think,' said she,
'What we can do to please
Your father, for to-day will he
Come home from off the seas.
''That you have won, my dear young son,
A prize at school, we'll tell,
Because you can, my little man,
In writing all excel:
''And you have made a poem, nearly
All of your own invention:
Will not your father love you dearly
When this to him I mention?
''Your sister Mary, she can say
Your poetry by heart;
And to repeat your verses may
Be little Mary's part.
''Susan, for you, I'll say you do
Your needlework with care,
And stitch so true the wristbands new
Dear father's soon to wear!'
''O hark!' said James; 'I hear one speak;
'Tis like a seaman's voice.'-
Our mother gave a joyful shriek;
How did we all rejoice!
''My husband's come!' 'My father's here!'
But O, alas, it was not so;
It was not as we said:
A stranger seaman did appear,
On his rough cheek there stood a tear,
For he brought to us a tale of woe,-
Our father dear was dead.'
poem by Charles Lamb

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Susan Is Lost
Susan is lost
-she doesn't believe her fortune
will come across
Susan is lost
-her faith of the world
is not held aloft
Susan is lost
-all that she loves
has come and gone
Susan is lost
-she doesn't know if she should stand up
When it ain't time to fall
poem by Fushuai Jiang

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A sister who is here when ever you need her
A sister is there when ever you need her. You know she will be there for you. Because you are her baby sister. A sister is a friend and a sister could be your mother when she is gone. But she will never be able to replace your mother. written 11/10/10 and posted 11/10/10
poem by susan Garelick

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I didn't know that the last time I saw Helene would be the last time Part 2
Helene death I will never forget. Because it was unexpected. She went to Chicago to help. Only to wine up in the hospital until the day she died. Her dealth leaves with a emptyness that will never go away. I miss her so much it hurts. written and Posted 1/25/10 In the memory of my forever friend Helene Susan Nemirow
poem by Susie Sunshine

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Little Susan
Air -- "The Pride of Caldair"
Once there was a little girl
And her friends loved her dear --
Her parents loved their little one,
She did their hearts cheer.
They loved their little darling,
As with them she did roam,
They called her little Susan,
The pride of their home.
Blue eyes had little Susan,
And light flaxen hair,
And she was a pleasant child to see,
So beautiful and fair.
With her parents she will never more
On earth with them roam --
They loved their little Susan,
The pride of their home.
Her parents had more children,
There were nine of them all --
There are eight of them living,
For God but one called.
The flower of their family
God called to his home,
It was their little Susan,
The pride of their home.
Her friends will not forget her,
Though she died years ago --
It was John H. Moore's daughter,
Her age was four years old.
She is waiting in heaven,
Waiting for her friends to come
And be with their little Susan,
The pride of their home.
poem by Julia A Moore

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I Love Kurt Cobain and Hate Toby Keith
I was walking through
Sunlit and lonely Melvindale,
Which for all intents and purposes
Is mystical Detroit,
And I was thinking about Susan,
Somewhere sad in Pennsylvania.
Boys were playing football,
Which made me lonesome
For Scott and Leroy,
Childhood companions
Lost in time!
A tall mother watering the lawn
Was goddess-like.
Does anyone love Li Po?
Where is Han Shan?
I’d kiss Susan beneath a Maple Tree
If she’d let me read to her
Mexico City Blues by Jack Kerouac.
poem by Uriah Hamilton

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Our Obedient, Respectful Daughter
our daughter
if nothing else
is so respectful
of her elders and so,
consequently,
she is obedient
why, just the other day
her teacher asks
in Nature revision:
What do you call the outside of a tree?
and my little girl so honest
which is something else she is
confesses her ignorance
Bark, Susan
says the teacher
offering the answer;
and Susan
ever obedient and respectful
she goes:
Bow-wow!
Bow-wow!
Oh, our Susan
she’s so respectful and obedient
we’re so, so proud of her
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Mother Shake The Cherry-Tree
Mother shake the cherry-tree,
Susan catch a cherry;
Oh how funny that will be,
Let's be merry!
One for brother, one for sister,
Two for mother more,
Six for father, hot and tired,
Knocking at the door.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Susan When She Tried
(words & music by don reid)
I got over charlotte thompson, goldie johnson,
Lord they done me wrong
I took it hard with peggy harper
She hurt me bad, but not for long
Theres just one I remember
Makes me feel funny down inside
Id trade em all for just one hour
Of susan when she tried
No theres never been a woman
Who could make me weak inside
And give me what I needed
Like susan when she tried
It gets worse in the summer
When the nights are hot and long
And its bad in december
When they play those christmas songs
So if you ask me and I dont tell you
Bet your sweet bottom dollar I lied
cause theres never been one better
Than susan when she tried
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Were Ever To Know My Mother
If you were ever luckily to know my mother.
You will teach me what true.
My mother was my inspiration that gave the reason to write my book.
poem by Susan Garelick

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Suzy' Is Cool
I will answer to Puppit Lady
Christina and Suzae
Suzy I will always answer to any day.
I even answer to Melodie-
my cartoon doll that lives in me.
I will answer to Sue-
hey, how do you do?
I will answer to Suzanna, and Suzanne
Susan I cringe at that, please understand.
Susan reminds of a boring girl at school
I never liked Susan but 'Suzys'is cool.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 16,2012
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com
www.puppetlady.biz www.christinasunrise.com
www.melodiemezoree.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier

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My Mother Went Away and Is Never Coming Back
But my mother will come back.
Do you believe this is true?
but you have to believe.
poem by Susan Garelick

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Angel. Poem
SIlently I walk alone the day you died.You were. Wiping away the tears.You will never get old.I feel you. The doctor changed his mind. He said he was going to help. But changed his mind. That something she didn't deserve.She died in a mater of two weeks. Written posted 10/19/11 In the memory of my forever friend Helene Susan Nemirow
poem by Susan Garelick

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On This Night
White sheets fall around the car
For it is not too far
The roads are white, and un-changing sheets of ice surround it
The roads are lightly lit
It is not far now something will happen, something will move
You always knew the car would loose
This battle of the night
You start to loose your sight
The roads are hidden from your gaze
The windows in a soft haze
The wheel moves, you turn trying to stop before the gate
It is too late
The brakes won’t save you know, the car skids to the side
This will be your last ride.
The impact sends you towards the windshield you cover your eyes and head
This is the end you know inside
You’ll never see your children’s smiling faces
Your mind is in a maze
You do not know what is happening you do not remember
All you know is it is December
The month of giving, you shall not give you shall not receive but death shall find were you stand
The car comes to a stop wheels spinning above you, the blood on your hands
The light fades all around you flames dance
The light is now no more, you lay still flames around you in the night, the snow falls on
It does not notice, but fills on your sweet face; you hear the voices above roll on
It is too late
For this night holds your fate
For on this night you shall loose your site
(poem dedicated to: Kai and Susan craig who died in a car reck on their way to denver for Kai to get an art reward R.I.P Kai and Susan)
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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Just because I haven't yet had any project surgery, I'm not going to knock it, because I think women have the right to do whatever they want to their bodies that make them feel good about themselves.
quote by Susan Sarandon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't like looking at me
I wish the tumors would go away. But I know that will never happen. Unless I have surgery. To remove them. I don' think I could go threw many more surgeries. So I will just have to live with it. Written and Posted.6/2/12
poem by Susan Garelick

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No one to talk too any more
I have no one to talk too. I miss my mother she was the one you could count on. And no one could take that away.written and Posted 9/18/11 In the memory of my mother Esther Ferber Klayton
poem by Susan Garelick

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Menstruation At Forty
I was thinking of a son.
The womb is not a clock
nor a bell tolling,
but in the eleventh month of its life
I feel the November
of the body as well as of the calendar.
In two days it will be my birthday
and as always the earth is done with its harvest.
This time I hunt for death,
the night I lean toward,
the night I want.
Well then—
speak of it!
It was in the womb all along.
I was thinking of a son ...
You! The never acquired,
the never seeded or unfastened,
you of the genitals I feared,
the stalk and the puppy’s breath.
Will I give you my eyes or his?
Will you be the David or the Susan?
(Those two names I picked and listened for.)
Can you be the man your fathers are—
the leg muscles from Michelangelo,
hands from Yugoslavia
somewhere the peasant, Slavic and determined,
somewhere the survivor bulging with life—
and could it still be possible,
all this with Susan’s eyes?
All this without you—
two days gone in blood.
I myself will die without baptism,
a third daughter they didn’t bother.
My death will come on my name day.
What’s wrong with the name day?
It’s only an angel of the sun.
Woman,
weaving a web over your own,
a thin and tangled poison.
Scorpio,
bad spider—
die!
My death from the wrists,
two name tags,
blood worn like a corsage
to bloom
one on the left and one on the right—
It’s a warm room,
the place of the blood.
Leave the door open on its hinges!
Two days for your death
and two days until mine.
Love! That red disease—
year after year, David, you would make me wild!
David! Susan! David! David!
full and disheveled, hissing into the night,
never growing old,
waiting always for you on the porch ...
year after year,
my carrot, my cabbage,
I would have possessed you before all women,
calling your name,
calling you mine.
poem by Anne Sexton

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True Wisdom Of A Dear Friend
I Thank The Dear Lord Above For Giving You To Me
Oh How I Cherish And Marvel You
For Without That Of Our Friendship
I Do Not Know Where I Would Be
I Will Not Question As To Why He Brought Us Together
All I Know Is Without You I Would Be Lost Forever
I Have Traveled A Very Long And Lonely Path
But With That Of Your Angelic Guidance
I Am Now Rescued From All The Heartache And Wrath
To You My Dearest Friend I Say Are The Sister I Never Had
But The Good Lord Stepped In And Changed Things
In Fulfilling My Long Awaited Wish
For The Sister I Have Found In You I Am So Very Glad
poem by Bishop Reverend Doctor Susan Annette Joyce Hofmann

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