John II
Knowing it was, in liklihood, the start
of a life-long obsession, a collector's fate-
knowing the buyer would be back, better informed,
for the Horst, the Ritts, the George Platt Lynes.
I recall your immaculate white shirt
your spiffy hound's-tooth blazer,
your perfect features, gone to seed,
your carefully combed hair, your lop-sided smile;
Your trousers, sharply creased,
your loafers shined and heeled like new-
you looked like something out of Gianni Schicci.
How you loathed bitter American cultural isolationism.
You knew all the good restaurants in Chelsea
and some that were not so good;
your openings entwined the best of politics and esthetics;
you moved on only when the market dried up.
John, where ever you are I want you to know
death alone will part me from my Von Gloeden;
where ever you go I want you to know
death alone will part me from my Olive Cotton.
poem by Morgan Michaels

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Related quotes
In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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We Had It All
I can hear the wind a blowin in my mind
Just the way it use to sound through the georgia pines
You were always there to answer when Id call
You and me, we had it all
Remember how I use to touch your hair
Reaching for the feeling that was always there
You were the best thing in my life, I can recall
You and me, we had it all
I know that we can never live those times again
But I let my dreams take me back to where weve been
And I stay there with you just as long as I can
Oh it was so good
It was so good
It was so good when you were my man
But Ill never stop believing in your smile
Even though you didnt stay, it was all worth while
You were the best thing in my life I can recall
You and me, we had it all
I know that we could never get that far again
So I let these memories take me on back to where weve been
And I stay there with you just as long as I can
Oh it was so good, it really was
It was so good, oh oh
It was so good when you were my man
You were the best thing in my life I can recall
You and me, we had it all
song performed by by Dolly Parton

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Already Open!
are we called to love?
or driven, by an unseen hand?
are we the fire,
or the memory of?
is it he who plants the seed,
or the seed itself?
are we alone,
or do we walk with the dead?
concepts! mental cages.
who builds the cage?
who fights against the latch?
in lonliness we struggle,
never knowing ourselves.
painting the picture
of the bird in flight...
not knowing we are the bird,
the flapping of wings,
and the sky!
not knowing, not knowing...
still we dream,
dreams that taste and smell!
are we dreaming?
or part of the dream?
abstract and vague,
we fumble for the key.
never knowing, never knowing,
the door is already open!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Disarming
Confronting death, they meditate
in charnel grounds and other scary sites,
Tibetan yogis facing fate
of death, which they allow to claim its rights
and undermine their great elation,
rendered harmless as they now invite
to join them in their meditation
death, which they deprive of sting and bite.
More than Judeo-Christians re-
alistic, they don’t choose to rage about
the dying of the light, and see
within death’s darkness no cause for them to doubt
that death is no less part of life
than feet and hands are part of legs and arms,
while seeing it no cause of strife,
but part of life that it in peace disarms.
poem by Gershon Hepner

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Fate's Flow
held trapped in Fate's maze
running, running, trying to
escape.
but that is all part of
It's greater plan
every turn is the wrong one
every step take me where i want
Not to go.
every road, i see
people resigned to
Life
tired and weary,
they scorn me,
knowing i too
will one day give up all hope
this meaningless running,
for a life directed by - It's flow.
so i conclude
the only door of escape is
Death
and even that is part of
Fate's greater plan.
Chelsea Walk
I went down to Chelsea Walk
Where the sun doesn't shine at all
And I went looking for something for me
But I came back with nothing at all
Except an old man who could not see
But he said that he knew God
Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Now I've been down to Chelsea Walk
Where the sun just refuses to shine
And I ran back to my little room
And I jumped straight into a bottle of wine
You know I'll be alright for just a day
But tomorrow I must wake
Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Old man I must be on my way
Don't you worry I'm just scared for those who pray
In Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Chelsea Walk...
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene from B-Sides: Seasides & Freerides

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Concept Incorrect
concept
incorrect
universally
as it stands
on almost
every point
this is
stasis
at present
needed
is more
focus
as such
death is part
of the circle
of organic life
why is that
bitter
especially
if is
believed
the good
pass on
to a better
world?
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Ace
By: jimmy buffett
1971
Hardly seems a long time
Just a minute of the day
But the man who stood beside me
More than gave himself away
The food stain on his spotted shirt
A gray beard on his face
A man composed of many names
So i just called him ace
Chorus:
But ace can't read and ace can't write
And he sleeps on a bench at night
A little man the world has left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna find
Born in mississippi
Picking cotton as a child
Left soon for the city
Where he heard that life was wild
That was fifty years ago
When nothing's really strange
>from a poor dirt farm to dirty streets
Is really not much change
Chorus:
And ace can't read and ace can't write
And he sleeps on a bench at night
A little man the world has left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna find
Go back to the country
No he really can't do that
Wasted years have left him
Nothing but an old straw hat
So he puts it on his head
And waves a last good-bye
No time left to turn around
And no time to ask why
Chorus:
Ace can't read and ace can't write
And he sleeps on a bench at night
A little man the world has left behind
He ain't bitter, he ain't sweet
Makes his living on the street
Never knowing what he's gonna find
And this old world has left poor ace behind
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett

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Why Did Death Take You Away?
This year marked the anniversary of your death.
When you first died I couldn't take a breath.
I can't believe you've been gone so long.
It's sad you died at twenty-nine, you were wronged.
I know death is part of life's grand design.
We mourned your death for oh so long, we still morn to this day, but we're resigned.
Death is part of lives great design.
Many think death is divine or of God's design.
So, even though death took you away.
Our love for you is always here to stay.
I still ask; Why did death take you away?
Maybe the answer to that question will never go away.
*This poem is a tribute to my little sister, Tchinina. She died on May 2,2003 at the age of 29.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight

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Part Of Life, That is
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Stuck with sticking emotions felt in my gut...
Unable to abandon them.
Or give them up...
Had been a place I'd been,
Back then.
With no one but myself...
And faith,
To help me slowly break away...
Of a hold I had on them to mend.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
I have learned to feel grief deeply,
Where it is felt.
Let it visit.
And then from it to leave!
Not to forget the process...
But to breathe!
Remembering...
With an agony upon my letting go,
Knowing what I felt was painful...
It was also,
Part of life!
A part of life,
That is!
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Life and Death, How Ironic
Life, it described my Mother
Life, she was the image
Life, she was healthy
Life, she loved every day
Life, you saw it in her eyes
Life, you heard it in her voice
Life, how ironic it could be
Death, the impossible
Death, too somber a thought for her
Death, she would live a long, long time before it would confront her
Death, sickness maybe, but there is always a cure
Death, not even a thought in the doctor’s mind
Death, it now replaced life
Life and death, my mother passed away with a look of peace on her face
She died knowing that she lived every moment to the fullest.
poem by Janice Karp

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To Leonide Massine in ‘Cleopatra’
O beauty doomed and perfect for an hour,
Leaping along the verge of death and night,
You show me dauntless Youth that went to fight
Four long years past, discovering pride and power.
You die but in our dreams, who watch you fall
Knowing that to-morrow you will dance again.
But not to ebbing music were they slain
Who sleep in ruined graves, beyond recall;
Who, following phantom-glory, friend and foe,
Into the darkness that was War must go;
Blind; banished from desire.
O mortal heart
Be still; you have drained the cup; you have played your part.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon

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Part Of My Life
Can you be a part of my life?
Can you be a part of my life?
Oh its easy to find some one to play with
And almost anyone will do to fill your idle time
But that very special someone,
You can share all your dreams with is so hard to find
And it use to be like me to settle for the physical
But these days it aint too easy to make up my mind
Cause apparently you body just to temporally to take up my precious time
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
I still appreciate the beauty of a man
But theres more to what I need now than what meets the eye
And if beautys only skin deep,
Then your pretty skin wont send me to my highest high
Oh its been along time come for maturity
And I believe that its truly what it has to be
Cause as much as I admire you
My sexual desire, aint controlling me
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
song performed by by India Arie

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The Way Back Home
(Vince Gill)
A little girl was cryin'
for her mama and her daddy
She couldn't understand why they were gone
She never knew the danger
Of talking to a stranger
Now the girl can't find her way back home
A little boy went walkin'
Down to the corner market
To buy a loaf of bread and an ince cream cone
He never knew the dnager
Of talkin' to a stranger
Now the boy can't find the way back home
Too many kids are missin'
Is anybody listening?
Won't you be the children's eyes
They're all alone
The hardest part's not knowing
Where they are or where they're going
Won't you help the children find
The way back home
The faces on milk cartons
Thrown away and soon forgotten
What if one of those sweet kids
Was your very own
Tonight those kids are weeping
While yours are safely sleeping
Won't you help the children find
The way back home
Too many kids are missin'
Is anybody listening?
Won't you be the children's eyes
They're all alone
The hardest part's not knowing
Where they are or where they're going
Won't you help the children find
The way back home
Won't you help the children find
The way back home
song performed by by Vince Gill

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Black Market White Baby Dealer
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
My black market white baby dealer
Is rooting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Kidnaps clean, fresh white babies for me
Clean, fresh white babies for me
My smile is dime a dozen
My lips are cherry red
My eyes are blue like the sky is blue
I got good shoulders under my head
I look like your mother
I look like your great-aunt
So sit me down in the family photo
And everyone tells me that i, I look just like you
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
He brings back
Oh my god, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
He brings back
Oh charlie, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
I come post-production
I dont need natal care
Im already fully assembled
Down to the very last part, its all there
So take me to your family
So take me to your home
Buddy, take me in as your next generation
And Ill take you out of the lost one and into mine
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
song performed by by Liz Phair

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Life After Death And Taxes (Failure II)
Hey taxi
take me strait to
the heart of it
the nucleus of politics
where somebody
started it
cause they taxed me
with a scalpel
piece by piece
they cut me deep
and bled me dry
until there was nothing
left to bleed
and this is how
i choose to live
as if i'm jumping
off a cliff
knowing that you'll save me
knowing that you'll save me
and after all the stupid
things i did
there's nothing left
there to forgive
because you already forgave me
yea you already forgave me
just keep driving
leave this defeat miles behind
so far back i'd have to rack
my mind just to remind me
i keep trying
to pick myself back up
and then move on
and think about the life
i'll have when this fragile
one is gone
never forget
there's life after death
and taxes
and forgiveness comes
then all of this rest
is what passes away
death and decay
can't touch us now
every breath that i inhale
is followed by exhaling
sure as the one who never fails
i know you will never fail me
song performed by by Relient K

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From reading a previous answer, you know that I consider all those aspects to be part of American cultural myth and thus they figure into good American poetry, whether the poet is aware of what he is doing or not.
quote by Diane Wakoski

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Vision of an old Man
A cool breeze touched his white hair
While he was walking in the mystery street
Long life has made him to bend,
In front of the things those the history made
He was old, old enough to see the world for what it is
He was old, old enough to feels the death
He was old, old enough to think about the life that passes
He was old, old enough to see the real masses
White hair, as white as the teeth
Teeth those just moved for lots of times
Blue eyes…
Which were covered by glasses, Glasses of lies? !
Hands of times aren't cruel, it's their duty
We can't stop them of the work they are doing
BUT! A time, it's our turn...
To be old, and then burn...
The old man wanted nothing instead of a simple respect
Respect, the thing that is forgotten for these people
A day that old man was young and powerful, but so prideful
And now he is old like his father that was…but now he is none full
He just needs respect, a respect for his white hair
Respect for his long life that is passed
Respect for his respectful heart
That now is tears a part.
poem by Ellias Anderson

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Life After Death & Taxes
Hey taxi
Take me straight to the heart of it
The nucleus of politics where somebody started it
Cause they taxed me
With a scalpel piece by piece
They cut me deep and bled me dry until there was nothing left to bleed
And this is how I choose to live
As if I'm jumping off a cliff
Knowing that you'll save me
Knowing that you'll save me
And after all the stupid things I did
There's nothing left there to forgive
Because you already forgave me
Yeah you already forgave me
Just keep driving
Leave this defeat miles behind me
So far back I'd have to rack my mind just to remind me
I keep trying
To pick myself back up and then move on
And think about the life I'll have when this fragile one is gone
Never forget
There's life after death
And taxes
And forgiveness comes
Then all of the rest is what passes away
Death and decay can't touch us now
Every breath that I inhale is followed by exhaling
Sure as the one who never fails, I know will never fail me
song performed by by Relient K

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Desert Blues
Cant get no this,
And I cant get no that,
Cant get no you know,
I dont even know where its at.
Aint got the smoke and uh, aint no booze,
Got them low down dried out desert blues, yes I do.
Um, a george carlin said I had to go,
Just what he wanted I did not know,
Im over here dug in so far from home,
Lookin all around try and see whats going on.
I got the sand in my collar,
Got the sand in my hair,
Got it in my pockets,
Got it everywhere.
I got sand in my shirt,
Got it in my shoes,
Got them low down dried out desert blues, yes I do, how how how.
Joined up in the army
Where it was hard to find,
End up over here, got my ass on the line,
But Ill be right here until my work is done,
If I get back home I hope I never see no more guns.
Here across the ocean,
I left some of my good friends behind,
I hope somebodys thinking about me,
Especially that sweet little woman of mine.
Cant get no this,
And I cant get no that,
Cant get no you know,
I dont even know where its at.
Sand in my collar,
Got the sand in my hair,
Got it in my pockets,
Got it everywhere.
I got sand in my shirt,
Got it in my shoes,
Got them low down dried out desert blues,
Yes I do.
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band, music by Dickey Betts, Warren Haynes (1991)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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