She's Gone
I am in grief and my father is in grief too,
Because my Step-Mother is dead;
Se died on the 2nd of September 2004,
And she's gone too soon.
The roots of my pleasure is gone too sone,
And like 'Vasco Da Gama' to view the world;
But i am now at nature's doorsteps to take my view.
The decease may dream away their death,
But what is going on will always be so;
For there is time for everything in this life,
And like the time to be born and the time to die.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Hope in Heaven's Day
Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.
poem by Arlene Dery
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Love Doesn't End With Death
Love doesn’t end with death, Mother
Said. A few days had gone since Father’s
Demise and you stood in their room
While she sat on her bed and did her hair.
She stopped in mid brush and cried.
I wish it was me, you said, at least then
You’d still have him to love. She looked
Round at you and said, then I’d be grieving
For you. It’s still grief no matter who
Goes or stays, she said. She wiped her
Eyes and brushed her hair once more
Looking at herself in the mirror. We never
Appreciate the time we have with people
Until they’ve gone, she muttered, half to
Herself and half to you. Ordinary days are
Best because they’re more plentiful,
She continued, looking at you through
The mirror’s view. You noticed the first grey
Hairs appearing where she’d brushed last,
Sitting there amongst hairs brunette.
Now she sits unaware of days gone by
Or grief; dementia’s done its work so well
That all is wiped clean from brain and head.
She’s unaware of being alive herself let
Alone Father not being there or being dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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I Know This Poor Bloke
I know this poor bloke in the mood for suicide
And he has felt heavy hearted since the day his wife died
Some five years ago his ache of loss from him not gone
And till the day of his death his grief with him will live on.
I do meet him often though not every day
And for words to him I always feel stuck to say
He always talks of his dead wife and the grief that he feel
And for him I feel sorry since his sorrow is real.
On his sense of loss with him I sympathize
And each time I see him he has tears in his eyes
My condolences to him I already did pay
But the grief that he feels it is with him to stay.
The price of true love it can come at a great cost
And he is left to mourn for what he has lost
One in his late sixties his hair silvery gray
And the clock on his life it is ticking away.
A man due to grief in the mood for suicide
Though he is one now I would rather avoid
Since each time I meet him he talks of his dead wife
And I am one who needs laughter in my life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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To My Father
Father when you were
With me
& your eyes were
Bright,
life was just like
I bright away,
All destinations
Were visible dreams
Were born
For compilation
&
happiness was
just like
a beloved
&
grief was like a child
standing on the bank
of river,
unable to come,
to my side,
destiny was
with me,
but
father!
after your departure
Dark night
Is on my life,
Dreams
Are died away
After awakening
Happiness is just like
A sulked
Beloved
&
grief becomes my fate.
Composed By
Shahnawaz Sardar Chachar
20 September 2001
poem by Shahnawaz Sardar Chachar
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So Extraordinary.
So extraordinary
that each time you saw her
it was like the first time
as if you had been new born
to the vision of her
even that last time
when she went across your view
with her husband
to the grocery store
and looking over at you
she smiled that smile of hers
and her eyes had that same sparkle
and even though
you had not seen her
in a few years
and didn't know
her husband from Adam
you still felt seeing her
as if you had seen
a Degas painting
for the first time
or heard Beethoven
touching your ears
at a young age
or smelling your first Chanel
on some dame
but as she went by
into the store
and disappeared from view
you wanted to turn back the clock
to that evening
walking home from choir
and she turned
and kissed you
beneath the moon
and held you close
and happily sighed
but time was fixed
in its rut
for having seen her
that last time
she died.
poem by Terry Collett
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Unknown Grief
Unknown Grief
Mark Kelly Wassenaar (AKA Wazzy)
You never expect to know the word grief
Until it comes to you
It comes in, like a thief
Then you take a critical review
Who really knows what grief is
It could be you, or me, or your teddy bear
If only we could see his
Come with me, I’ll give you a dare
All I ask is that you’ll see
What grief does to you and me
Maybe at the end we’ll all agree
That it need not be all for thee
Have you seen death of one or more
Have they been of love or worse
Does it cause a whole body war
Does it put you in a hearse
If all these apply to you
Maybe you know what grief may be
All this time you withdrew
It makes you feel like abductees
If you like, you may join my cause
Get together with your bands
To end all grief within our paws
To clear our enemy from our hands
poem by Mark Wazzy
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Remembering Golden Bells
Ruined and ill—a man of two score;
Pretty and guileless—a girl of three.
Not a boy—but still better than nothing:
To soothe one’s feeling—from time to time a kiss!
There came a day—they suddenly took her from me;
Her soul’s shadow wandered I know not where.
And when I remember how just at the time she died
She lisped strange sounds, beginning to learn to talk,
Then I know that the ties of flesh and blood
Only bind us to a load of grief and sorrow.
At last, by thinking of the time before she was born,
By thought and reason I drove the pain away.
Since my heart forgot her, many days have passed
And three times winter has changed to spring.
This morning, for a little, the old grief came back,
Because, in the road, I met her foster-nurse
Time Is Not Kind
Time brings no relief to me.
I miss him so much and you can't see
each day that comes,
each day that goes
just like the spring and winter snows.
It leaves me with my grief.
Time brings no relief to me.
Where is the time when I can be
without his face
in every place?
I believed the lie that time can heal
and liven up my pace.
But each step I take where he has been
is not a step I'm happy in.
Each day that's born,
each night that leaves
echoes the lie as I grieve.
Time brings no relief to me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Laws Of Mother Nature
The bird born in an aviary and raised in captivity
Can never live in Nature's World amongst the wild and free
Even the birds of it's own species will peck it till it die
So never allow your feathered pet the freedom of the sky.
I am naive of the laws of Mother Nature and naive of Nature's way
And for interfering with Nature there is some price to pay
The bird born in captivity in a cage must remain
Why even it's own kind in the wilds would kill it is beyond me to explain
Humans try to manipulate Nature and Nature's creatures control
But Mother Nature far greater than Human kind her's is an eternal soul
For we are like Nature's Seasons we come to life and go
Yet of our Earth Mother who feeds us so little we seem to know.
The bird born in captivity in a cage condemned to stay
For if released the other birds will kill it since this is Nature's way
And Mother Nature herself as old as father time
She claims the young and she claims the old and those still in their prime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Beyond the grief.
It seems as if we are stalled by our grief,
unable to move away from it – and I wonder
if we will ever get over the loss of you. In time
they say we will, that one day we will finally be free
of the sadness that burdens our hearts, and we will dance
in our remembrance, and there will be no more tears.
But if that's true, I must admit I will miss the tears
when there is an eventual easing of the grief.
I am not as eager to begin the dance
of life without you, for the world has lost its wonder
for me, some of its shine - and being free
seems awfully relative - I suppose just like time.
I can still so clearly recall the last time
we were all together - the tears
we shared, even laughter, when you were set free
of this earthly pain - and even in our grief,
we were filled with such wonder
as we witnessed the end of life's dance.
When I was a little boy you used to let me dance
on the top of your shoes, moving in time
to the music on the radio. Is it any wonder
that music, to this day, brings tears
of joy, mingled with the ever-present grief,
which still has not set me completely free.
I now realize there is a cost to love; it's not free -
for when you love, you buy a ticket to the dance
of life - which comes with joy and pain, celebration and grief.
And if you have lived a long enough time,
as I have, even when the loss brings never ending tears,
with a broken heart, it's worth all of the pain, and it's no wonder
people love so fiercely - so much so that they cease to wonder
about the why, when or where - and now I realize that I am free
to love, and to lose, which will bring with it many tears.
But each tear is worth it - and seems to make the dance
more authentic. In the end, I will measure my time
by how much of it was filled with love, and with grief.
No longer will I wonder whether or not I should dance,
I will just be free, stepping in and out of time,
wearing my tears like a badge of honor as I move beyond the grief.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Forever Starts at the End (A Sonnet)
Eternal life will start in my late last.
But who knows death began ere I was born?
A christian needs to die, as it's a must,
Before he could have seen the coming morn.
The day I went out from my mother's womb,
Is just as my death anniversary.
A dead child risen from a woman's tomb,
And breathing dust that lives for vanity.
I'm now alive but died with Him; and then,
Will die to live a life, and will not die
Again of death that doubled-killed the men
Born dead, although, alive, yet passers-by...
The residents of deathless fire where dwell
Those who died dead to die a death in Hell.
poem by Ray Remalig
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These Are All Questions
who you keep a twisted view
of your world? you ask me?
why do you ask me if i have a
twisted view of the world?
have you seen how i have seen
this world to be twisted?
did you say that living if just
a cliche? how did you arrive at
that answer?
do we keep going now?
what time do we leave?
and be apart? for good? for life?
for death?
what time is it? what shall you do
now? do i have to keep bugging you?
and you bugging me too?
what day is it? what mood?
what decision? what is your decision?
why? why? do we always have
to ask why?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sadness and grief
Sadness and grief are not like horror, fear,
They are much lighter, don't press to ground,
Sadness and grief - are the necessary feelings
To live on earth, without any doubt.
When you are born, you can't avoid the grief,
If you lose the essential in life,
And sadness follows you for years,
Trying to tie you to the moments of light,
Where there was no grief and sadness...
That moments - are the miraculous creatures
Of the Reality and of the Mind...
And all in them - are closely united,
And at the same time distant and untied...
--
In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/02/11/10141
poem by Lyudmila Purgina
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Here Is To Life
Here is to life
A toast that I am doing
Here is to life
A beautiful baby that was born a while ago
Here is to life
Mother Nature because she is in control of the nature
Here is to life
My prayers
Here is to life
My love songs to the world
Here is to life all my hope
Here is to life
All my dreams
Here is to life all my sorrows
Here is to life
All my sadness and my grief
Here is to life
The fruit of my spirit
Here is to life
The body of Jesus Christ
Here is to life
The sunsets
Here is to life
The first sign of winter
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Sonnet: God’s Grief’s Greater?
How much of sadness fills the hearts of those,
Parents who lost their only child one day?
How much of despair, mother feels, of course,
Seating her only son, dead on the way?
How much grief-stricken do our siblings live,
Seeing their dear ones dead before their eyes?
How can a child on earth remain alive,
When AIDS-affected, widowed, mother dies?
What grief engulfs the hearts of women all,
Who find the babe from womb is born but dead?
How sad God feels when into sin we fall;
And sadder still when to hell, we’re misled.
The Mirth God feels is more when souls return;
His grief’s ’yond compare when in Hell, they burn.
6-26-2001
poem by John Celes
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Compassionate Thoughts
Compassionate thoughts and feelings of emptiness
Are almost always expressed in sadness, grief, or distress.
But in conflict of life and death there is a pause
For life is a common interest, for death there is no cause.
In a split second in time life and death must cross
And the feelings of sadness, grief, and distress are lost.
An important relation is death for life and life for death
Since both cannot occupy the same space, one is left.
Then brings sadness, grief, and distress for the life that had to end
And compassionate thoughts and feelings of emptiness happen for the next life to begin.
poem by Jason Summers
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You Gave Me A Mountain
(words & music by marty robbins)
Born in the heat of the desert
My mother died giving me life
Deprived of the love of a father
Blamed for the loss of his wife
You know lord Ive been in a prison
For something that I never done
Its been one hill after another
Ive climbed them all one by one
But this time, lord you gave me a mountain
A mountain you know I may never climb
It isnt just a hill any longer
You gave me a mountain this time
My woman got tired of heartaches
Tired of the grief and the strife
So tired of working for nothing
Just tired of being my wife
She took my one ray of sunshine
She took my pride and my joy
She took my reason for living
She took my small baby boy
But this time, lord you gave me a mountain
A mountain you know I may never climb
It isnt just a hill any longer
You gave me a mountain this time
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Waiting To Unleash!
Too much grief due to communal conditions,
Too much anger due to nonsensical notions,
Too much rigid restrictions due to obligations
Make one a poet at last to pour emotion in poems!
At such a time and mood can there be any form
Being followed according to regular poetic models
Usually known to all including both poets and critics
Who can comment and criticize according to fashion?
Grief and anger find whatever weapons available
To hit at the opponents according to their maturity
To establish fair points of view for stirring emotion
To make justice, truth and reason stand above all!
On such occasions words flow in cascades at will
From the depths of the poet’s heart that are hidden
And saturated for a long time inspired, ruminative
And contemplative in nature waiting to unleash!
poem by Ramesh T A
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My Escape
Looking out towards the horizon
I dream of my escape
Freedom beckons me
I have in my view a different world
A world with a different format
A view so opposite
to the one I have at the moment
But how to escape
Not easy when I have commitments
Things I can't leave behind
but can't take with me either
What a stalemate!
Perhaps it was just a hope,
an idea with no foundation,
a self analysis
There is no escape!
Just a dead end
with no view
And a dream that's no longer viable.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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