A eulogy
A eulogy about one is made
To show the skills of the one who made it
And to gain an image for oneself.
A eulogy is of truth far from.
30.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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When You Write My Eulogy
When you write my eulogy
Don't tell the people lies;
Tell of my complexities,
My virtues,
My sins;
Tell of my soberness,
My fight with insanity.
Tell the people
Of my confusion,
My quest for clarity
Though I embraced Him.
Tell how my love for humanity
Contrasted with my hate for injustice;
Let them smell my beloved patchouli
Who I betrayed for cannabis.
Open the temple of my heart
And let them see
The angels dancing,
Dancing to the tunes of the psalmist;
Let them see the Savior's
Outstretched hands,
How I kiss His feet.
Let them see His eyes blazing.
When you write my eulogy
Tell the people of my acquaintance
With politicians;
How it hurts like leprosy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Eulogy is nice, but one does not learn anything from it.
quote by Ellen Terry
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One way to evaluate your own reputation is to think about what would be said of you at your eulogy.
quote by Brian Koslow
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No eulogy is due to him who simply does his duty and nothing more.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For All The Things That We Have Taken For Granted
a chocolate bar
that we bite
that sweetness that dissolves with ecstasy in our tongues
it bites us
and even at the end
eats us
much to our regrets
we gain weight for every sugar that we take for granted
for every heavy grain that we slide in our throats
the dough nut that recreates a hole in our
system
they soon eat us
whole
and then in our deathbed we keep on saying
'i could have been more careful'
but it is too late
the flowers are there
and the prayers are already said
the choir is singing
and someone you love has delivered the best eulogy
about you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm always relieved when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize I'm listening to it.
quote by George Carlin
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A funeral eulogy is a belated plea for the defense delivered after the evidence is all in.
quote by Irvin S. Cobb
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Eulogy. Praise of a person who has either the advantages of wealth and power, or the consideration to be dead.
quote by Ambrose Bierce
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Satire lies about literary men while they live and eulogy lies about them when they die.
I Am Made For You
I came a long way
From out of nowhere
I stand before you
All alone
Like a wolf's cry in the distance
I heard the calling
Of your soul
Oh...I hear you cryin'
CHORUS
With your love
Show me how to live
'Cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your life
Show me how to give
You are made of me
And I am made of you
We'll walk together
Though the fire
Though the darkness
To the sun
Like two raging rivers full of passion
At the ocean
We are one
Oh...I hear you cryin'
REPEAT CHORUS
I am made of you
You are made of me
And everything you are
Is what I'm meant to be
I am made of you
You are made of me
And everything I am
Is what you made of me
Oh...I hear you crying
Oh...Through the darkness
To the light
With your love
Show me how to live
'Cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your life
Show me how to give
You are made of me
With your heart
Show me what is true
'Cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your soul
Walk my spirit through
You are made of me
And I am made of you
Oh...I hear you crying
Through the darkness
To the light...
song performed by by Ricky Martin from Ricky Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Made Of You
I came a long way
From out of nowhere
I stand before you
All alone
Like a wolfs cry in the distance
I heard the calling
Of your soul
Oh...i hear you cryin
Chorus
With your love
Show me how to live
cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your life
Show me how to give
You are made of me
And I am made of you
Well walk together
Though the fire
Though the darkness
To the sun
Like two raging rivers full of passion
At the ocean
We are one
Oh...i hear you cryin
Repeat chorus
I am made of you
You are made of me
And everything you are
Is what Im meant to be
I am made of you
You are made of me
And everything I am
Is what you made of me
Oh...i hear you crying
Oh...through the darkness
To the light
With your love
Show me how to live
cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your life
Show me how to give
You are made of me
With your heart
Show me what is true
cause you are made of me
And I am made of you
With your soul
Walk my spirit through
You are made of me
And I am made of you
Oh...i hear you crying
Through the darkness
To the light...
song performed by by Ricky Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Image
An image made by man's design and skills,
What home will you build for me?
An image made by man's imaginations,
An image is what you are;
I was trained with an 'iron-hand' so,
Your 'soft-hands' will not bend me.
Once bitten by a snake,
Twice being afraid of an earthworm;
What kind of love will you share with me?
All lawful things are clean,
A meesage from Candace the Queen of Ethiopia;
Peace is the right choice than war,
Love is the right choice than hate,
All lawful things are truly clean.
When the saints sit among you,
You will know them by their works;
LIke 'MS Columbus',
LIke 'Queen Mary 1',
Like 'MS Aidaaura',
Like 'MS Deutschland',
LIke 'Queen Mary 2',
Like 'Sedov',
Like 'MS Astor',
But light travels faster than sound;
And, all lawful things are clean.
Peace is better than war,
Love is better than hate,
And you don't need whitewashed walls.
When the saints sit among you,
You will know them by their fruits;
Like the land of the singers,
Like the land of the artists,
Like the land of the writers,
Like the land of the mathematicians,
Like the land of the cities at fifty;
All lawful things are really clean.
An image is what you are and,
This world is full of them;
Like the image made from a man's hand,
Of which we are all part of it.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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0017 And Where The Joy
This, then, the question
for those whom it may concern –
to find a celebration in oneself
that, as outer is, so inner;
that all truth rests within oneself –
for where else can it be found?
to love oneself – for oneself must be loveable,
or none other could be loved for true;
to know all happiness to be within;
to celebrate all this; the world a constant joy;
to find this celebration in oneself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sparrow
Who will love a little sparrow
Who's traveled far and cries for rest?
"Not I," said the Oak Tree
"I won't share my branches with no sparrow's nest
And my blanket of leaves won't warm her cold breast"
Who will love a little sparrow
And who will speak a kindly word?
"Not I," said the Swan
"The entire idea is utterly absurd
I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard."
Who will take pity in his heart
And who will feed a starving sparrow?
"Not I," said the Golden Wheat
"I would if I could but I cannot I know
I need all my grain to prosper and grow"
Who will love a little sparrow?
Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth
"For all I've created returns unto me
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man And Money
God made man in His own image,
Man made money in his own image,
God made man to be immortal,
Money made ma to be immoral,
Man made God to be very sad,
Money made man to be very mad.
poem by Frank Odindo
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This Song I Sing
This song i sing is for the living souls,
If you loved me but you never showed,
I did not read my tombstone for i was dead,
If you cared about me but i did not know,
Am sorry i did not see how many teardrops you had shed,
If the speeches on my funeral were filled with eulogy,
Let my symphathy sink in our hearts,
For i did not hear them accept my apology.
poem by Shamba Kaunda
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Waverley
1814-1914
When, on a novel's newly printed page
We find a maudlin eulogy of sin,
And read of ways that harlots wander in,
And of sick souls that writhe in helpless rage;
Or when Romance, bespectacled and sage,
Taps on her desk and bids the class begin
To con the problems that have always been
Perplexed mankind's unhappy heritage;
Then in what robes of honor habited
The laureled wizard of the North appears!
Who raised Prince Charlie's cohorts from the dead,
Made Rose's mirth and Flora's noble tears,
And formed that shining legion at whose head
Rides Waverley, triumphant o'er the years!
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Talking Iwth A Stranger
he says he is in china
teaching, then he says
not teaching only,
he is researching on the
roots of language,
mandarin he speaks
and bisaya too,
a man of the world
from the island
where i live
and call
home,
he is a stranger and i tell him my name, my work,
i show myself with what i write and he takes time to read all
until
he sees something wrong and he corrects it,
my choice of words
my spelling, the do's and dont's in poetry in writing a letter to a friend
in composing an eulogy
a song of departure
a poem of regret, the last thing he says was that he once fished
and that the sea has become his home, and then
i knew him, but i will not tell him who he is.
it is enough that we have become friends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost In Image-II
He elocuted speeches.
He himself did not write.
But he had persona.
And stage presence.
The best representation,
Of a manufactured image.
And not seen since,
In their eyesight.
And it has been more than twenty years...
He made any appearances,
Of a questionable leadership.
Made to give a lasting impression.
Greater now than ever,
After his death.
And this very day...
People with this addiction ask themselves,
'What would 'he' do?
What would 'he' say? '
And even though he has long passed away...
There are those doing the best they can,
Trying to recreate his comments made.
Since they...
Are lost,
In his image!
And images sustains their beliefs,
Too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The maker is not to blame.
Men had been rational
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have made them mere sheep.
Men had been awaken
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have made them quite drowsy.
Men had been brotherly
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have bred the rivalries.
Men had been good in mind
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when with all the walls,
They have become perverts.
If what was intended
From what was made
Has not been the outcome,
The maker is not to blame.
17.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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