Until we meet again For MY lady
When I am dead just bury me
in a deep hole and plant a tree
Without any ceremony,
whats left behind’s no longer me.
If I go first it’s not by choice
so do not weep, rather rejoice.
You know that we will meet again,
My leaving’s bound to cause you pain
I’ve run my race I can’t complain
I’ll join you on some higher plane.
If I go first it’s not by choice
so do not weep rather rejoice.
Should you go first then I will know.
You had no choice you had to go.
Though I will weep I’ll weep for me
because I know you’re flying free
But I will wait impatiently
for friendly death to come for me
It’s my belief that we will be
together intermittently
in other lives in different roles.
Remaining always kindred souls
The bonds we have death cannot part
we have been twin souls from the start.
My love for you, your love for me
will last beyond eternity.
Because we are one entity
as we were always meant to be.
8-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bereft for M lady Allison
Alone, alone, all, all alone
lost in a sea of misery.
Gone all the happiness I’ve known
because my love is gone from me
She did not volunteer to go.
When our call comes we have no choice
the only certainty we know.
When my call comes I shall rejoice
I know that you will wait for me.
Not even death can break our bond.
We swore to love eternally
until time ends and far beyond.
Without you there is nothing left.
I sit alone and weep bereft.
10-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Day
I never went to the tropical island
Though everybody said they saw me there
And it wasnt me you punched a hole in
At the west german protest march
Simultaneous events dont happen
We are isolated temporally
And a part is never called the whole thing
Though it bothers us to know its so
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
I didnt write the words you hear me singing (didnt write the words you hear me singing)
I didnt sing the line before this one (didnt sing the line before this one)
You are not the one I was addressing (you are not the one I was addressing)
That person took a train to africa (africa)
Where he met the consulate from belgium
Who is now a buddhist in a cave
Who is pitching for the oakland raiders
Striking out the batter she became
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misperception?
Misperception.
The silence of the night; profound.
Is broken by a dismal sound.
The tolling of a single bell.
The sad, sad sound of the death knell.
Another soul has broken free
From this sad world of misery.
Now journeying towards the light
Rejoicing in the power of flight.
But we who have been left behind
to seek what solace we can find.
Weep bitter tears which may relieve
The pain of loss but I believe.
We should not weep but celebrate.
The dear departed’s change of state.
Thursday,22 December 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ready and Waiting.
I call your name: echo replies.
I listen ‘til the echo dies.
The last sound fades and silence reigns.
I hesitate to call again.
I know your spirits flying free
Towards the light triumphantly.
Which I accept reluctantly.
The tears I weep. I weep for me.
I weep for my lost happiness.
I would give all I possess.
To be flying by your side.
That wish remains unsatisfied.
So I must wait impatiently.
For kindly death to set me free.
Tuesday,07 August 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick fancies of a tired mind
A bell rings out, a deep toned bell.
A single chime; that’s ominous.
What does that single chime foretell?
So resonant and sonorous
It marks the passing of the hour.
Perhaps the passing of a soul
It issues from the ivied tower
and echoes imitate its toll.
I long to know but I must wait
while night hours crawl slowly past
deliberately to agitate.
It seems to me the night hours last
much longer than they ought to do.
When aches and pains keep me awake
Although I know it isn’t true.
It seems to be for pity’s sake.
My morbid fancies lead me to
conclusions that I should not draw
As morbid fancies tend to do
more often than they did before.
There’s nothing left in life for me
I’ve run my race I’m satisfied
That friendly death will set me free.
I‘ve been alone since my wife died.
I know I won’t hear my death knell
I find the thought amuses me
but there is no one I can tell
about this thought that tickles me.
When my call comes I will rejoice
I’ve long been waiting patiently
but we are given little choice
I will greet my death eagerly.
I’m weary and I long to go
but know I have to wait my turn.
Although I wish it wasn’t so
I must wait patiently and yearn.
16-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Not For Him That Dieth
I.
WEEP not for him that dieth--
For he sleeps, and is at rest;
And the couch whereon he lieth
Is the green earth's quiet breast:
But weep for him who pineth
On a far land's hateful shore,
Who wearily declineth
Where ye see his face no more!
II.
Weep not for him that dieth,
For friends are round his bed,
And many a young lip sigheth
When they name the early dead;
But weep for him that liveth
Where none will know or care,
When the groan his faint heart giveth
Is the last sigh of despair.
III.
Weep not for him that dieth,
For his struggling soul is free,
And the world from which it flieth
Is a world of misery;
But weep for him that weareth
The captive's galling chain:
To the agony he beareth,
Death were but little pain.
IV.
Weep not for him that dieth,
For he hath ceased from tears,
And a voice to his replieth
Which he hath not heard for years;
But weep for him who weepeth
On that cold land's cruel shore--
Blest, blest is he that sleepeth,--
Weep for the dead no more!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep Not Nigeria
Weep not Nigeria,
for justice is in the offing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your cries resonate and ring.
Weep not Nigeria,
It's time for your African spring.
Weep not Nigeria,
none shall usurp your role as king.
Weep not Nigeria,
for soon in ecstasy you'll sing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for to towering heights you'll cling.
Weep not Nigeria,
and soar atop the eagle's wing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your patience will gladness bring.
Weep not Nigeria,
it's time to sing the ding dong song.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your misery will not be long.
Weep not Nigeria,
for you are numbered with the strong.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (11 July 2018)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Weep No More
Mary, don't you weep no more
Mary, don't you weep no more
'Cuz, I got your letter today
Pack my bags and I'm on my way
So, don't you weep no more
Don't you weep no more
Dry your eyes
Don't you shed no tears
The sun is risin'
So, put away your fears
Cuz, I know I once done you wrong
I want to say I'm sorry
And I'm comin' back home
So, don't you weep no more
Don' t you weep no more
I hear your voice in the wind
And I feel your tears in the rain
Shadows of night are falling
Can't you hear me call your name
I'm comin' home
I'm comin' home
So, don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep
Don't you weep no more
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don’t Weep For Me
Here I lay in bed
the throes of death
dance round my head.
Don’t weep for me
when I am dead,
because all you will see
is just the husk of me.
I will be gone to somewhere else,
although they have not told me yet.
It could be somewhere hot
so I can burn my toes.
It could be somewhere cold
so it will freeze my nose.
Then again it could be somewhere in between
where the air is clean.
They say that is quite nice,
a sort of paradise.
So when I am dead,
don’t weep for me.
You can take the husk
and do what you will.
You can burn or bury it deep,
which will give the worms something to eat.
You can put me a cardboard box
if you are that way incline,
I really do not mind,
for I will already be gone from there.
To where that is anyone’s guess,
they have not told me yet.
When I get there, I won’t be coming back.
No one ever does from there,
except to haunt those who have done me wrong,
and then only until the day they to are gone.
I guess it is time to sat goodbye.
Just remember what I said,
don’t weep for me
when I am dead.
2 July 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weep not, Brokenhearted
Let's attempt to foil
A possible emotional turmoil
Our tempers have been set to boil
Shame! You blame
The very existence of my name
For the aftermath of our fun game
I feel the same, I feel the same
Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not
You insisted you wanted only fun
Today you talk of me as if a con
Now that your heart is worn and torn
Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not
I thought fun for a couple of days
After we’ll go our separate ways
I simply cannot understand
How I have led you astray
You said the words, you needed fun, you were bored
Weep not, Brokenhearted
Weep! Weep! Not
Once you sung the words to your song
I locked my heart with a key
Threw it away, so of you I would be free
Copyright 2006 -Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Command for All The Moms
When I was born I had no choice
whether to protest or rejoice.
I was evicted forcefully
for no good reason I could see.
I would have stayed permanently
had it been left up to me.
Wrapped in the comfort of the womb
where up to now I was welcome.
But Mother Nature obviously
had other plans in mind for me.
She makes the rules all must obey,
that’s how I saw the light of day.
I quickly learnt as babies do
Who’s in control? it's me not you.
5-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Merciful Release?
Merciful Release.
The mist descended suddenly.
Totally unexpectedly.
I could not see to find my way
So I decided I should stay
Just where I was. It seemed to be.
The wisest choice
I’m not so certain that it was
I think perhaps that is because.
The clammy fog embraces me
And whispers to me quietly
You have no choice.
If I decide to let you go
I am quite certain you will know.
Not to brave the moors alone
These moors are mine all that I own
and I rejoice.
I have the power to heal or kill
I always had and always will.
These moors are worthy of respect
It is mission to protect.
It whispered sotto voice.
I will remember till I die.
There is no reason I should lie
The day the mist enveloped me
and whispered to me quietly
I hear that voice.
In nightmares to this very day.
Although it let me go my way.
I still retain the memory
Of the lesson taught to me.
The moors own voice.
Although it spoke so quietly
Is etched deep in my memory
I can’t forget although I try
And to this day I wonder why.
It made the choice
To set me free as suddenly
as the mist had captured me.
I don’t suppose I’ll ever know
Why it chose to let me go
I had no choice.
The moors have little time for fools
They can and will enforce their rules
I'm forced to take it seriously
Or pay the price
Tuesday,15 November 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sin, death
Sin and Death, those sisters two,
Two, two,
Sat together while dawned the morning.
Sister, marry! Your house will do,
Do, do,
For me, too, was Death's warning.
Sin was wedded, and Death was pleased,
Pleased, pleased,
Danced about them the day they married;
Night came on, she the bridegroom seized,
Seized, seized,
And away with her carried.
Sin soon wakened alone to weep,
Weep, weep.
Death sat near in the dawn of morning:
Him you love, I love too and keep,
Keep, keep.
He is here, was Death's warning.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I Evil?
Years of living peril and anguish cease
When evil was killed, by my senseless wrath
As his eyes closed and his heart decease
I smirked I smiled and innocently laughed
This man was evil and deserved to die
He made my sins look common and mundane
Deceiving all with his clandestine lie
Vulgarizing life that was holy he hath profane
The moisture of mankind as they woefully cry.
Over his sins, over the souls he doth steal
From loved ones whom love naught now
All the life of love, and its ardent zeal
This man took by the hand of death and how?
He killed, pillaged and with life he stripped
With rage in his eyes as red as fire
He strangled and with knife in hand ripped
The flesh of love, the flesh of desire
With no conscience to judge or heart to feel
This man was evil for evil in him doth be
The dead man, for death in him was real
And death all around him is all he did see…
But his wife sobs and his son doth weep
And in me I marvel at death and happy to kill
Does evil cry? No! than why doth people cry over evil
And me cry naught; did the devil tempt me?
Is evil like a disease, that is contagious and viral?
Hath evil infected me, could I evil, truelly be?
For they weep for an evil man
And no man weep for me, and me not weep
I am evil, for this man's evil doth evil be
in me in my will deep....
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love, Oh, She Is My Love
SHE casts a spell, oh, casts a spell!
Which haunts me more than I can tell.
Dearer, because she makes me ill
Than who would will to make me well.
She is my store! oh, she my store!
Whose grey eye wounded me so sore,
Who will not place in mine her palm,
Nor love, nor calm me any more.
She is my pet, oh, she my pet!
Whom I can never more forget;
Who would not lose by me one moan,
Nor stone upon my cairn would set.
She is my roon, oh, she my roon!
Who tells me nothing, leaves me soon;
Who would not lose by me one sigh,
Were death and I within one room.
She is my dear, oh, she my dear!
Who cares not whether I be here.
Who will not weep when I am dead,
But makes me shed the silent tear.
Hard my case, oh, hard my case!
For in her eye no hope I trace,
She will not hear me any more,
But I adore her silent face.
She is my choice, oh, she my choice!
Who never made me to rejoice;
Who caused my heart to ache so oft,
Who put no softness in her voice.
Great my grief, oh, great my grief!
Neglected, scorned beyond belief,
By her who looks at me askance,
By her who grants me no relief.
She’s my desier, oh, my desire!
More glorious than the bright sun’s fire;
Who were than wild-blown ice more cold
Were I so bold as to sit by her.
She it is who stole my heart,
And left a void and aching smart;
But if she soften not her eye,
I know that life and I must part.
poem by Douglas Hyde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Onward Ever Onward.
I must pursue my endless quest.
My destination is unknown
Although the path is overgrown
I have no choice I must go on.
I’m not allowed to stop and rest
I have to journey on alone.
I have no choice I must go on
although the path is overgrown.
It’s up to me to do my best
until my journeying is done.
Although the path is overgrown
I have no choice I must go on..
Perhaps in time I’ll pass the test
Show I could do it on my own.
I have no choice I must go on
Although the path is overgrown.
Each man must pursue his own quest
It’s something he must do alone.
Although the path is overgrown
There is no choice you must go on.
Mirrored refrain created by Stephanie Rypnyk
Sunday,17 January 2010.
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Pain
What is pain but rejoice leading towards death, we live our lives, some good, some bad, troubled times, and untroubled past, we live and love, we love and live, but for some of us, we may live to love, but we dont love to live, some of us, misjudged by fate, unrightly charged, unrightful hate, some of us, we flow with time, some of us, we get bound by it, some of us we live life to its fullest, the rest of us, live life to its darkest... few of us survive, thrust into darkness we live, never to see light again, not because we hate the light, but because the light hates us, with few of us remaining, were forced to live on.... but some of us that remain, wish to die on, we live in this place, shadowed from light, in our dark shells we are safe, but sometimes someone dares to pierce us with their light, for moments we rejoice in the love of the warmth, but moments later the truth is revieled, always given a taste of the light, but never able to swallow, never able to keep it inside, we weep with the darkness, cast out by the light, we hate the light... for it pierces our night....
poem by Cameron Kalka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absolute truth.
We die a little every day.
Commencing with our first drawn breath.
It's what we learn along the way.
Prepares us to accept that Death.
Is not the end though we don't know.
What happens when we cease to breathe
Or where we are supposed to go.
Why is it that we choose to grieve?
When a loved one goes on ahead.
Perhaps we ought to celebrate
that they are free, but choose instead
To weep and wail and rail at fate.
When I die don't cry for me.
Instead be glad that I broke free.
You can be sure you'll follow me
As all must die eventually.
No one escapes this world alive
There's nothing we can do or say.
No matter how hard we may strive.
To alter this in any way.
Sunday,12 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sweet Child
they took it
they took it all
they took it all away from me
sit and weep sit and weep
i want it
i want it all
i want it all back to me
why can't they give it back to me
sit and weep sit and weep
my sweet child
if words could give
i would give it all
i would give it all
i would give it all back to your heart
but i can't
so i sit
sit and weep
sit and weep
with you
weep wipe away the wounds
i pray
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hooked.
I’m sure, deprived of poetry
descent into insanity
would follow.Inevitably
It is my prime necessity
Poetry is my drug of choice.
Without it I would have no voice
either to lament or rejoice.
For I depend on poetry
to validate that I am me.
I am addicted hopelessly.
Wednesday,23 December 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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