In Memoriam W.M & E.B.J.
Mad are we all, maids, men, young fools alike and old,
All we that wander blind and want the with to dare.
Dark through the world we go, dazed sheep, across life's wold,
Edged from the flowers we loved by our herd's crook of care.
Life? Have we lived it? No. We were not as these were,
Intent, untiring souls who proved time till their death.
Nay we were sluggards, all, how crazed in our despair
Each day of their fame won here nobly witnesseth.
--What is life's wealth? To do. Its loss? To dream and wait.
Years vanish unfulfilled; but work achieved lives on.
Not all Time's beauty died when these two fell asleep.
Dear Madeline, if we grieve our own less strenuous fate,
Heaven send us still this strength, this joy, now they are gone
At least like these to love, even though mad fools we weep.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Young that Died in Beauty
If souls should only sheen so bright
In heaven as in e’thly light,
An’ nothen better wer the cease,
How comely still, in sheape an’ feace,
Would many reach thik happy pleace, —
The hopevul souls that in their prime
Ha’ seem’d a—took avore their time, —
The young that died in beauty.
But when woone’s lim’s ha’ lost their strangth
A—tweilen drough a lifetime’s langth,
An’ over cheaks a-growen wold
The slowly-weasten years ha’ roll’d
The deep’nen wrinkle’s hollow vwold;
When life is ripe, then death do call
Vor less ov thought, than when do vall
On young vo’ks in their beauty.
But pinen souls, wi’ heads a-hung
In heavy sorrow vor the young,
The sister ov the brother dead,
The father wi’ a child a—vled,
The husband when his bride ha’ laid
Her head at rest, noo mwore to turn,
Have all a-vound the time to murn
Vor youth that died in beauty.
An’ yeet the church, where prayer do rise
Vrom thoughtvul souls, wi’ downcast eyes,
An’ village greens, a—beat half beare
By dancers that do meet, an’ wear
Such merry looks at feast an’ feair,
Do gather under leatest skies,
Their bloomen cheaks an’ sparklen eyes,
Though young ha’ died in beauty.
But still the dead shall mwore than keep
The beauty ov their early sleep;
Where comely looks shall never wear
Uncomely, under tweil an' ceare.
The feair at death be always feair,
Still feair to livers’ thought an’ love,
An’ feairer still to God above,
Than when they died in beauty.
poem by William Barnes
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The Young That Died In Beauty
If souls should only sheen so bright
In heaven as in e'thly light,
An' nothen better wer the cease,
How comely still, in sheape an' feace,
Would many reach thik happy pleace, -
The hopevul souls that in their prime
Ha' seem'd a-took avore their time, -
The young that died in beauty.
But when woone's lim's ha' lost their strangth
A-tweilen drough a lifetime's langth,
An' over cheaks a-growen wold
The slowly-weasten years ha' roll'd
The deep'nen wrinkle's hollow vwold;
When life is ripe, then death do call
Vor less ov thought, than when do vall
On young vo'ks in their beauty.
But pinen souls, wi' heads a-hung
In heavy sorrow vor the young,
The sister ov the brother dead,
The father wi' a child a-vled,
The husband when his bride ha' laid
Her head at rest, noo mwore to turn,
Have all a-vound the time to murn
Vor youth that died in beauty.
An' yeet the church, where prayer do rise
Vrom thoughtvul souls, wi' downcast eyes,
An' village greens, a-beat half beare
By dancers that do meet, an' wear
Such merry looks at feast an' feair,
Do gather under leatest skies,
Their bloomen cheaks an' sparklen eyes,
Though young ha' died in beauty.
But still the dead shall mwore than keep
The beauty ov their early sleep;
Where comely looks shall never wear
Uncomely, under tweil an' ceare.
The feair at death be always feair,
Still feair to livers' thought an' love,
An' feairer still to God above,
Than when they died in beauty.
poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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On Hearing Of The Death Of Kevin Hickey
Sad news a news that travels far and wide
And I was told of how young Kevin Hickey died
On the Shannaknock road of his car he lost control
And the reaper claimed his body not his soul.
He was pre-deceased by his Mother Kathleen
And his better days in life he had not seen
And his father John is left to bear sorrow's cross
And grieve the tragedy of his heart-breaking loss.
And though the accident that claimed young Kevin's life happened a few years ago
The scars of grief to heal are always slow
And the pain at the loss of his son in such a tragic way
With John Hickey till his own end will stay.
At the spot where Kevin died John erected a grotto as a memorial to his son
And it would seem that is as much as anyone could have done
To honour some one that they loved so dear
Such stories of love are heartening to hear.
I have heard of how young Kevin Hickey died
And such sad news does travel far and wide
And his remains will rest in peace forever more
But his soul lives on the soul has wings to soar.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Hymn
In The Time Of War And Tumults
O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands
Despair and victory give;
In whom, though tyrants tread their lands,
The souls of nations live;
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy peace on hearts that pray,
And guard Thy people still.
Remember not the days of shame,
The hands with rapine dyed,
The wavering will, the baser aim,
The brute material pride:
Remember, Lord, the years of faith,
The spirits humbly brave,
The strength that died defying death,
The love that loved the slave:
The race that strove to rule Thine earth
With equal laws unbought: .
Who bore for Truth the pangs of birth,
And brake the bonds of Thought.
Remember how, since time began,
Thy dark eternal mind
Through lives of men that fear not man
ls light for all mankind.
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy strength on hearts that pray
For strength to serve Thee still.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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Obituary: To My Beloved Parents
My Dear Dad:
From humble beginnings, my dad
Rose up by sheer struggle in life,
And turned a teacher to serve God,
Uncorrupted and straightforward.
He kept God first, within his heart,
And did his earthly duty, part
Unflinchingly, undauntedly,
And showed the world, his love for Christ!
Oh, what a fine man, my dad was!
He loved his brethren like himself;
He did not care for his own life;
He did his part for sake of Christ.
The wealth he made was his children;
His air of pride was his good wife;
He smiled while facing life’s troubles;
He bore his cross and followed Christ.
He stood steadfast in honesty;
He taught the pupil worst in class;
He towered high with confidence;
He would not dither from his God.
My Dear Mum:
And in his task, his wife joined him,
A pious lady from the start;
She did her duty to husband
And children without second thought.
She loved her family members all,
And kept the harmony intact;
She prayed fervently throughout life,
And waded safely through all strife.
A workaholic, all her life,
She helped her children’s assignments,
Encouraging souls all alike,
To walk on ‘heaven’s road on earth’.
She was a lovely mum and wife;
She eased her bread-winner’s worries;
She loved to do much charity;
She lived beyond ninety-three age!
We children are so proud of both;
They earned their heaven here on earth;
They both lived exemplary lives;
We pray we’ll meet in God’s abode!
God, make that day soon possible;
The life on earth worthlessly goes;
Oh, how we wish to see and speak
To dad and mum, in heav’n above!
Dedicated to my dear dad, (late) A.T.Antoniswami,
And dear mum, (late) Stella Thangamarie
Copyright by Dr John Celes 24-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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Heaven Can Wait....(Revised)
Heaven is the place where I want
to be when I am gone but right now...
Heaven can wait!
Heaven can wait...till I can help my sister
who got cancer, my brother who is lost in
life, my nephews and nieces who I can
be of help in terms of good advice and
financial hardships; give a lending hand
to my best friends who made me
who I am now!
Heaven can wait till I am able to
prove myself of what I want to be;
what I can be and achieve my
goals in life; help others
in varied ways in shaping them
for what they want to be with my
my hard-earned wisdom and experience!
Heaven can wait till I believe again in
Creation rather than in Evolution;
believe that there is a GOD than
convincing myself that there is None
or continuously doubt if there is One!
Heaven can wait till I find a church again
that I sincerely believe in that can give me
my last rites; a true messenger of Christ
not only of what he preaches of the Bible
but what kind of life we all should lead and
follow his example.
Heaven can wait till I fully understand
my own existence...do I exist to live or
live to exist; till I am able to comprehend
the mysterious Cycle of Life...birth and
death and the life span in-between.
What if I don’t end up in Heaven,
then I have to find out if there is such a
thing called Hell!
Heaven can wait...till I can assure and
find out for myself that I have a soul from
diehard Theologists so I can get there
or find out from brilliant Scientists that I
will decompose just like the rest of the
animals and just become part of the fertile soil.
Heaven can wait and fill that that space
for people who died because of poor health,
were in great pain and did not enjoy life;
the young ones who died because some
people are heartess; for babies whose lives
are aborted and never given chance to live.
Heaven can wait till I convince myself again
that there is Life after Death and there is
place called Heaven and a place called Hell!
If there is a Heaven...can you please wait;
and if I belong in Hell, God forgive me...
for Heaven's sake!
poem by Don Allan Dinio
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Im Living My Life
Part of my life is tatoo's, penetentry rules
When running yo mouth only seperates the men from the fools
Part of my life is bullets, guns, blood, sweat and tears
This is the part of my life that I've lived for years
Part of my life is dreams, wishes, hopes, happyness
Where I could care less about the world and its current happenings
Part of my life is lies, deciet, greed, envy, and hate
Which so many leaders of our world think is great
Part of my life is all the above
Cause everyday I see sadness and very little love
Part of my life has so much love to give
But I'm catching up with death fast, from the life that I live
Part of my life is wrong nor right
But I need no sympathy, cause I'm living my life.
poem by Daniel Chapman
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Oh Mr Yeats
Oh Yeats you wrote of this terrible beauty
And in your great poem you glorified death
But it's been proved that even suicide cases
At their last moment will struggle for breath.
How can you serve your Country by dying for it?
To me that's just a heroic suicide
Perhaps Ireland's greatest was Daniel O Connell
And it was of natural causes that he died.
Those men who led the nineteen sixteen rising
Were brave that from them can't be took away
They died because they fought for love of Ireland
But life for love too big a price to pay.
And tell me what is fame and what is glory?
So many people only live for fame
In hope that after death they'll be remembered
And that others will pay homage to their name.
Oh Mr Yeats you said in death there's beauty
But I cannot agree with what you've said
I would take wealth and fame whilst I'm still living
For such will be useless to me when I'm dead.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Sleep Of Spring
O for that sweet, untroubled rest
That poets oft have sung!--
The babe upon its mother's breast,
The bird upon its young,
The heart asleep without a pain--
When shall I know that sleep again?
When shall I be as I have been
Upon my mother's breast
Sweet Nature's garb of verdant green
To woo to perfect rest--
Love in the meadow, field, and glen,
And in my native wilds again?
The sheep within the fallow field,
The herd upon the green,
The larks that in the thistle shield,
And pipe from morn to e'en--
O for the pasture, fields, and fen!
When shall I see such rest again?
I love the weeds along the fen,
More sweet than garden flowers,
For freedom haunts the humble glen
That blest my happiest hours.
Here prison injures health and me:
I love sweet freedom and the free.
The crows upon the swelling hills,
The cows upon the lea,
Sheep feeding by the pasture rills,
Are ever dear to me,
Because sweet freedom is their mate,
While I am lone and desolate.
I loved the winds when I was young,
When life was dear to me;
I loved the song which Nature sung,
Endearing liberty;
I loved the wood, the vale, the stream,
For there my boyhood used to dream.
There even toil itself was play;
Twas pleasure een to weep;
Twas joy to think of dreams by day,
The beautiful of sleep.
When shall I see the wood and plain,
And dream those happy dreams again?
poem by John Clare
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Work That Body Rap Song = 2012
Drive my car wear my jewels
Make me feel like the king of fools.
Work that body
Work that body
Try not to hurt nobody
David loved Bathsheba, Samson loved Delilah
I love you and your name is Twyla.
Work that body
Work that body
Try not to hurt nobody
Life without love is empty and cruel
Without God's grace I remain a fool.
Work that body
Work that body
Try not to hurt nobody
After death I pray to go to Heaven
For I've been saved since I was eleven.
Work that body
Work that body
Try not to hurt nobody
Life can be short, life can be long
God sees all we do right or wrong.
Work that body
Work that body
Try not to hurt nobody
Love And Loss
Loss molds our lives in many ways,
And fills our souls with guesses;
Upon our hearts sad hands it lays
Like some grave priest that blesses.
Far better than the love we win,
That earthly passions leaven,
Is love we lose, that knows no sin,
That points the path to Heaven.
Love, whose soft shadow brightens Earth,
Through whom our dreams are nearest;
And loss, through whom we see the worth
Of all that we held dearest.
Not joy it is, but misery
That chastens us, and sorrow;
Perhaps to make us all that we
Expect beyond To-morrow.
Within that life where time and fate
Are not; that knows no seeming:
That world to which death keeps the gate
Where love and loss sit dreaming.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Despair Is Darkness
DESPAIR IS DARKNESS
Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Final Destination - Death! (Incomplete)
A life of 21 years i lived by now
where did it go and How?
Will i be alive, till i finish this line
Or will i be dead by next dine?
We live life without any worry of death
Spending all our life's time in earning wealth
Till now, I have spend my life getting education.
It i die now, to my parents, will it be a big frustation?
......... to be continued...
poem by Saad Ansari
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Too Late
Too late the prize is drawn, the goal attained.
Too late, too late, our heart's desire is gained.
Wealth's use is past; Fame's crown of laurel mocks
The downward drooping head and grizzled locks.
The end is reached — the end of toil and strife —
The end of life.
Love flowers and fades like grass, and flowers again,
And strong young hearts spend all their strength in vain.
The fiery passions burn out, one by one,
And then, too late, when our best days are done,
Spirit and body find their perfect mate —
Too late, too late!
Long sought, long seeking, through the lonely years,
We meet at last to weep our useless tears
For time and chance irrevocably flown,
For dreams outlived and fervent hopes outgrown,
For babes unborn, for myriad joys unseen,
That might have been.
Too late, too late! And yet the priceless boon
Might ne'er have come to bless us, late or soon;
And only comes, like Holy Grail, to those
Made wise and pure by bitter needs and woes.
We learn the worth of life when life is o'er,
And not before.
Not for the spring and morning time of youth
The perfect flower of slow- unfolding truth —
The perfect love, deep, passionate, and strong,
That comes of wanting much and waiting long.
This glorious fire is of the setting sun
When day is done.
This harvest wealth, this crowning gift of fate,
This fruit of suffering years, must aye come late;
And only seeking spirit and ripe mind —
Only a few — the matchless treasure find,
And find, despite all time and chances lost,
'Twas worth the cost.
Ah me! To stand upon this height at last,
Ere eyes are dim or daylight overpast;
To see one aim achieved, one dream fulfilled,
Ere striving brain and hoping heart are stilled;
To know that we have borne a lifelong pain
Not all in vain!
O, not too late, if once we reach the goal —
If once we satisfy this hungry soul —
If only for a year, a day, an hour,
We drink our fill of life's true bliss and power.
If we but touch that point, we conquer fate
Not quite too late!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Life Will Go On
When we were young our lives were new
Our shared romance and dreams they grew
Till that fateful day did come and finally the song was sung
But, Life Went On
It hurt and tore deep down inside, The tempest of that terrible ride
Yet slowly diligently I rose above, For life must rise as does my love
And, Life Went On
I'd lived and loved and hoped and cried, To fill my soul but no reply
To quench a fire and dream I'd held, that love and life did not unfold
Yet Still, Life Went On
Life's numbing monotony did well, Pain and feelings they were quelled
Through it all I was not forsaken, He simply had another one help me
And Too, Life Went On
I saw a life a form of rebirth, We brought 5 souls unto this Earth
They are my pride and their mothers, But now I find there is another
Oh Yes, Life Went On
It's not over this life I lead, There's so much left it's only a seed
My life could grow and yours can too
Say yes to me and let oneness come from two
And As Always, Life Will Go On.
poem by Daniel Lloyd Kennedy
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Let Me Go
Once there was a day
We were together all the way
An endless path unbroken
But now there is a time
A torture less sublime
Our souls are locked and frozen
Once we were years ahead but now those thoughts are dead
Let me go
All hopeless fantasies are making fools of me
Let me go
I walk alone and yet I never say goodbye
Let me go
A change of heart a change of mind and heaven fell that night
Let me go
I tried but could not bring
The best of everything
Too breathless then to wonder
I died a thousand times
Found guilty of no crime
Now everything is thunder
Daytime all I want is
Nighttime I dont need the
Daytime all I want is
Nighttime I dont need the
The best years of our lives
The hope of it survives
The facts of life unspoken
The only game in town
Ill turn the last card down
And now the bank is broken
Found guilty of no crime
They were the best years of our lives
Ill turn the last card down
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ni-Chan’s Dirge For Yen-Oey
SO soon asleep! Now must the coming years
Weep ignorantly their loss they cannot know,
And life miss ever what has never been
We weep to-day, let theirs be sadder tears
Who have not seen thee near as we have seen,
Who shall but learn a hope died long ago.
Alas for flowers untimely winds have broken,
That should have scattered seed of following flowers!
Alas for ruin of unbuilded towers!
Alas for ripening words that die unspoken!
But let them weep with sadder tears than ours
Who shall but learn a hope died long ago,
A world's hope long ago.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Genesis BK XIX
(ll. 1167-1180) And after Cainan Mahalaleel possessed the land
and treasure many a year. The prince lived five-and-sixty
winters, and begat a son. An heir was born unto his house, and
his kinsmen called him Jared, as I have heard. Mahalaleel lived
long, enjoying bliss on earth, the joys of men, and worldly
treasure. And all the years of Mahalaleel were eight hundred
five-and-ninety winters, and he died, and gave the land and rule
unto his son.
(ll. 1180-1196) A long time Jared dealt out gold to men. He was
a righteous prince, a noble earl, dear to his kinsmen He lived
an hundred five-and-sixty winters in the world, and, when her
time was come, his wife brought forth her first-born, a goodly
son. And his name was Enoch. Eight hundred years his father
lived, and increased his tribe. And all the years of Jared were
nine hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died, and gave the
land and rule unto his son, the wise and well-loved prince.
(ll. 1197-1217) And Enoch ruled the folk, led them in ways of
peace, and no wise let his sway and power lessen, while he was
lord over his kinsmen. Now Enoch prospered and increased his
tribe three hundred years. And God, the Lord of heaven, was
gracious unto him! In his natural body he entered into heavenly
joy and the glory of God, dying no mortal death as men do here,
the young and old, what time God taketh from them wealth and
substance and earthly treasure and their life; but with the King
of angels he departed still alive out of this fleeting life, in
the same vestments which his soul received before his mother bare
him. He left the people to his eldest son. And all the years of
Enoch were three hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died.
(ll. 1217-1224) Then Methuselah held sway among his kinsmen, and
longest of all men enjoyed the pleasures of this world. He begat
a multitude of sons and daughters before his death. And all the
years of Methuselah were nine hundred and seventy winters, and he
died.
(ll. 1224-1236) And Lamech, his son, succeeded him and kept the
treasure. Long time he ruled the land. He lived an hundred and
two winters, and begat children. And the lord and leader of the
folk lived five hundred five-and-ninety years, enjoying many
winters under heaven, ruling the folk with wisdom. And Lamech
increased his tribe, begetting sons and daughters. He called the
name of the first-born Noah; and Noah ruled the land after the
death of Lamech.
(ll. 1237-1247) Now Noah, the lord of men, lived five hundred
winters, as the books say, and begat children. The first-born
son of Noah was Shem, and the second Ham, and the third Japheth.
And the folk grew in number under heaven, and the multitude of
the race of men increased throughout the earth. The tribe of
Seth, the well-loved prince, was still exceeding dear to God, and
blessed in His love!
Twist Of Fate
(kipner/becket)
Do we deserve a second chance?
How did we fall into this circumstance?
We werent so straight and narrow
This is much more than we deserve
A higher voice has called the tune
Two hearts that lost the beat will now resume
The gift of life extension
By divine intervention
Its gotta be a strange twist of fate
Telling me that heaven can wait
Telling me to get it right this time
Life doesnt mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what weve found
The second time around
Dont understand whats going on
Woke up this morning, all the hurt was gone
This is a new beginning
Im back in the land of the living
Its gotta be a strange twist of fate
Telling me that heaven can wait
Telling me to get it right this time
Life doesnt mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what weve found
The second time around
Its gotta be a strange twist of fate
Telling me that heaven can wait
Oh, Im gonna get it right this time
Life doesnt mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what weve found
The second time around
Its gotta be a strange twist of fate
Telling me that heaven can wait
You know, Im gonna get it right
Im gonna make it work this time
Life doesnt mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what weve found
The second time around
Its gotta be a strange twist of fate
Telling me that heaven can wait
Life doesnt mean a thing
Without the love you bring
Love is what weve found
The second time around
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Blind Girl
she was blind
but that is life
relentless life
she was blind
but young and beautiful
blonde
like an angel in heaven
sometimes she feels
as if she is in prison
sometimes cries and weeps lonely..all alone
sighing
like every woman
this young beautiful girl has also a heart
to love and to be loved by
she sometimes giggles and soimetimes laughs
in whispers and in louds
it was life
relentless life
she was blind and blonde
she was young and beautiful
and like every other woman has a heart
never the less
in anyway
her parents left her to a mental hospital
in which the government had put me in
to live and to be protected
because the beauty is always
in danger on this world
angels cannot survive alone on this world
it is a relentless cruel and cruel world
she was blind
she was beautiful
she was blonde
she had also a heart like every woman to be loved
i talked wih her in whisper noise
she loved my voice
and reconciled a bit
one day
on a sunday morning
she came from closed section to visit me
and drink tea with me
smiling and with joy
i tried to boil the water
just then
as always in my life
seeing the beauty near me
the nurse came angrily
did her duty again
she scolded the blind beauty
what are you doing here with this man
go to your section
a very cruel thing to mention
this happened long long ago
in the mental hospital i was staying too
the beautiful blind dissappeared and flew away
weeping..fearing and crying
where had she gone
i have never known
I have never seen her again
she was beautiful and young
blonde as an angel
she had also a heart to love and to be loved by
but it is that relentless life
she was blind
and the world and its nurses are cruel and relentless too
where must this angel be
that was long long ago
perhaps she is in heaven
may be happy there
flying flying and flying with joy
nobody will never know
may be waiting for my voice
to call her
Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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