French
(Dedicated to Victor French who died of cancer on June 15,1989)
You starred on Highway to heaven, Carter country and even on Little house on the prairie.
It's sad to know that you are dead and buried.
One moment everything seemed to be fine.
But then we lost you in June of 1989.
Sometimes you had a beard and other times you only had a mustache.
You made a great contribution to TV in the past.
You had a career that shined bright.
But you died at fifty-four and that wasn't right.
When you guest starred on Gunsmoke, you played the bad guy.
People cared about you and hated to see you die.
When you played as the heavy, you never flinched.
Rest in peace, Victor French.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Another Young Soldier
Another young soldier has died far away
An army representative will call on his mother today
For to tell her your son on the course of his duty has died
He served and died for his Country with his mates at his side.
Another war mother will grieve for her son
It will not matter to her if the battle was won
And it will not matter to her if her boy died brave
She will weep every time she will visit his grave.
Another young soldier to join the war dead
A bullet from a sniper hit him in the head
On his next birthday in June he would be twenty three
His loss a heavy cross to bear for his parents and members of his family.
Another young soldier may he rest in peace
At least from further suffering he has found release
Just one more to die in another man's war
On a bombed out back street in a city afar.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Victor Galbraith. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Under the walls of Monterey
At daybreak the bugles began to play,
Victor Galbraith!
In the mist of the morning damp and gray,
These were the words they seemed to say:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'
Forth he came, with a martial tread;
Firm was his step, erect his head;
Victor Galbraith,
He who so well the bugle played,
Could not mistake the words it said:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'
He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky,
He looked at the files of musketry,
Victor Galbraith!
And he said, with a steady voice and eye,
'Take good aim; I am ready to die!'
Thus challenges death
Victor Galbraith.
Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red,
Six leaden balls on their errand sped;
Victor Galbraith
Falls to the ground, but he is not dead;
His name was not stamped on those balls of lead,
And they only scath
Victor Galbraith.
Three balls are in his breast and brain,
But he rises out of the dust again,
Victor Galbraith!
The water he drinks has a bloody stain;
'O kill me, and put me out of my pain!'
In his agony prayeth
Victor Galbraith.
Forth dart once more those tongues of flame,
And the bugler has died a death of shame,
Victor Galbraith!
His soul has gone back to whence it came,
And no one answers to the name,
When the Sergeant saith,
'Victor Galbraith!'
Under the walls of Monterey
By night a bugle is heard to play,
Victor Galbraith!
Through the mist of the valley damp and gray
The sentinels hear the sound, and say,
'That is the wraith
Of Victor Galbraith!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It wasn't sexual in its element. I wasn't being exploited. I was doing what happened. It was very challenging because I played Phyllis from 15 years old to 53 when she died of breast cancer.
quote by Lesley-Anne Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990
4. That Blooming Cat
Round the corner up a tree
A small black cat looked down at me
A large Alsatian starred at cat
Near the tree where now he sat
Cat was hissing the dog went woof
Each had nearly had enough
All night long they’d sat and starred
Not at home but no one cared
Cat looked sad and gave a wow
Dog barked so much louder now
Crowd starts forming dog gets madder
Someone shouts I’ll get a ladder
Placed the ladder up to the tree
Then the crowd all looked at me
I reached the cat the crowd all starred
But I can’t get down cos now I’m scarred
poem by by unknown author (2008)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Love Is So Hard
Date line: 1989
I thought I was your lover wild
But U treat me like a step-child
I waited by the telephone
I knew U weren't alone
U wait until it's Friday night
And U call me up and start a fight
Say U and me ain't workin' out
But U'll be free on Sunday, what's this all about?
I don't know, baby, who U think I am
I'm not your average every day simple Sam
I could have a dozen others if I choose
But no other mama will do
Your love is so hard
Your love, your love is so hard
Baby, I like it
I thought we were the perfect match
U were so fine, such a catch
Nights were nasty, days were hot
I gave it all and in return, dogged is what I got
I don't know, baby, who U think I am
I'm not your average every day simple Sam
I could have a dozen others if I choose
But no other mama will do
Your love is so hard
Your love, your love is so hard
Baby, I like it
Date line: 1989
Come here baby, it's time
Hey girl, U've been hurt before
Gimme a chance, don't slam the door
Brown lover, funky M
I come 2 play, not 2 swim
OK, roll over
(1989)
Don't be so hard
Sugar, U'd be missin' everything in life
Don't be so hard
Ooh baby, maybe U could be my wife
Now say it again... uh, hard
I don't know, baby, who U think I am (Believe me, U be)
I'm not your average everyday simple Sam (Uh, ooh, hard)
I could have a dozen others if I choose (Ooh baby)
No other mama will do
Your love is so hard
Your love, your love is so hard
Baby, I like it
Enough
Funky M
I don't know, baby, who U think I am
I'm not your average everyday simple Sam
I could have a dozen others if I choose (Date line: 1989)
No other mama will do (It's time)
Your love is so hard
Date line: 1989
(I don't, I don't know)
It's time U get enough
It's time U get, it's time U get, time U get, time U get enough
And U'll be beggin' "Please, don't be so hard"
(1989)
Your love is, your love is so hard (19.. 19.. 19..)
Your love is so hard (1989)
Please don't waste precious time (1989)
Your love, your love, your is so hard (19.. 19.. 19..)
Your love is so hard (1989)
Your love is so hard
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One moment one time
One moment one time Yes one moment one time Yesterday one moment one time six feet down they are buried It was just like yesterday people smiled, people laughed, people played together under one roof, under one umbrella No one knew death would come calling fast No one knew death would keep knocking the heart of men like a whirlwind All we ever knew was that death kept knocking persistently They crash landed from Dana air into the world of great beyond, where they will rest in peace from the hassles of this wicked world All that hoped for the best in life crash landed on the 3rd of June 2012 for no fault of theirs Crash! Crash! ! Crash! ! ! the dead have gone home so soon Blood bath have taken over the airspace in split of seconds washing away the top soil The time ticks The day counts fast The death kept calling seconds by seconds on a daily basis The night is very short as we wake and sleep Death is dangerous as it takes us unaware without our notice at all Those alive cried , tears kept rolling down like balls of abundant rain Death has done its worst and we can do nothing We have wept and wept out our eyes from the socket, one moment one time
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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How many times has God died for me?
HOW MANY TIMES HAS GOD DIED FOR ME?
How many times has God died for me?
Yes, he’s died
And time and time again
As I’ve written in my book
How many times has God died for me?
How many times has God died for me?
A useful if cryptic phrase
Nietzsche coined in the 19th century
“When Zarathustra was alone, however,
he said to his heart:
'Could it be possible!
This old saint in the forest
hath not yet heard of it,
that God is dead! '
How many times has God died for me?
Each time I’ve had a paradigm shift
In my theological perspective
The God I had died and was replaced
Not by no God but a new God
How many times has God died for me?
A new God but still my God
The product of my heart and my head
A bit less Trinitarian
A bit closer to my own self
How many times has God died for me?
Now he’s not up there nor out there
But in there, a personal creation
Adaptable and changing with circumstances
According to my living, according to my reading.
How many times has God died for me?
I have no room for a God who is exclusive
I have no room for a God who is dogmatic
I have no room for a God, who is sexist,
Racist, anti-gay and British.
How many times has God died for me?
Yes God, my God, needed to die
And be reborn, reinvented
In a more user-friendly package.
So to make God more like me is to make God more PC!
How many times has God died for me?
Till God has become indistinguishable from me
God close to me, God in me
An undying God-sense
A God made to fit every circumstance
A God made to fit every mood
That God will never die for me
Even when I die I pray he will accompany me
The undying God
Who never died on Calvary
Who never died with Nietzsche.
©2009
James Hart
poem by James Hart
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A letter to My Dad
Dad it's been twenty years,
since you have been gone now
when ever I think of you
the thought, brings tears
There's so much to tell
you, I don't know where to begin
two months, after you died
we had a son, he's so big now, I'm in a spell
I wanted for you, to meet my wife,
in a way you did, only at your funeral,
by then, it was to late
strangers were we, but never any strife
Between us, there was no hate or any love
many wasted words had we
I would like to mention, we have a daughter,
and she's sweet as a dove
Remeber the day, that you gave me old shep
he was a very fine dog
for a long time, I had him
for many years, he had a lot of pep
After nine years, he died too,
seems like ever thing I love
dies sooner or later
and that makes me feel, very blue
You don't realize, how much you love
some one, until their gone,
and then they
fly away like a dove
Toward the end, we had some good talks
you told me many things i didn't know
at your farm, on our many walks
You told me how you played ball,
it must have been something,
to have played back then
my son, dad like you is very tall
I have a very happy life
dad, I wish you could meet
my son and daughter,
also my wife
Dad, it's to bad, I didn't know you better,
too many years were wasted
and I should have told you, I love you,
so that's the reason, for this letter
written June 18,1990 In Memory of my dad Elmer W. Foulk
Born September 13,1904 Died October 10,1970
If Not For June
If not for June,
My memories of Winter in December...
With a wish to witness,
The freshness of Spring March would bring...
Would not still remain so vivid.
As if only yesterday visited.
If not for June.
If not for June,
My eyesight would not be teased...
By the freedom felt in Summer,
With hopes that linger of those things I could do,
Under clear skies showing bright Sun.
And seeing the fun shared by nearly everyone,
If not for June.
And if not for June I would not be able to reminisce,
From so many experiences I could pick.
June seems to be the month I can do this.
With a thankfulness I am still in the midst,
Of a year that appears to have just begun.
With so much left to offer before it is done.
And for me this happens only when June comes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just False Patriotism
'Tis true to the dead that respect we should show
But they still honour men who died ninety years ago
For a dubious cause in Lands far away
But the war that was supposed to end all wars is re-lived today.
In that war it is said a million people died
And in such needless slaughter why do we take pride
At the war memorial the last post is played
And the long war dead are honoured with one more parade.
Those who march for peace it does seem to me
Do more for the betterment of humanity
Than those who go to war memorials to honour the long dead
Far too much about war has been written and said.
Just false patriotism to me this does seem
A boost to big egos and to self esteem
The mistakes of war are repeated today
And people are dying in war zones far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Just Died In Your Arms
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must have been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
I keep looking for something
I can't get broken hearts lie all around me
And i don't see an easy way to get out of this
Her diary it sits on the bedside table
The curtains are closed
The cats in the cradle who would've thought
That a boy like me could come to this
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must've been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
Oh i, i just died in your arms tonight
It must've been some kind of kiss i should've walked away
Is there any just cause for feeling like this?
On the surface i'm a name on a list i try to be discreet
But then blow it again
I've lost and found
It's my final mistake she's loving by proxy
No give and all take 'cos i've been thrilled to fantasy one too many times.
Oh i, i just died in your arms...
It was a long hot night she made it easy
She made it feel right
But now it's over the moment has gone
I followed my hands not my head
I know i was wrong
Oh i, i just died in your arms...
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When my opera Plump Jack was performed in 1989, my first piano teacher sent me something that I'd composed when I was four. I remember I played it, and it still sounded like me. I'm the same composer I was then.
quote by Gordon Getty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dad
Do you remember me
On some silent night
Perhaps when the snow falls
In the middle of June
Where you are now
I just can't tell
Did you get my letter
Did I miss your call
Your birthday passed many times
Since you left
It's now fifteen years
I've seen the sun rise
I've seen the rain dry
By now your hearts healed
While mine has died
For the longest time
I wondered what might have been
Had I been givin' the chance
I've seen the dream
Played out in my mind
I'm wearing black
While you're wearing white
And slowly we get lost
In the basement
drinking our last case
But as with most dreams
they never come true
I know this
For mine was hearing
for once
I
love
you
poem by Matt Mondschein
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June
Lightsome, laughter-loving June,
Days that swoon
In beds of flowers;
Twilights dipped in rose perfume,
Nights of gloom
Washed clear by showers.
Suns that softly sink to rest
In the west,
All purple barred;
And a faint night-wind that sighs
Under skies
Still, silver-starred.
Languorous breaths of meadow land
Overspanned
By clouds like snow;
And a shouting from the brooks,
Where in nooks
Late violets grow.
June, ah, June, to lie and dream
By the stream,
And in the maze
Of thy spells never to heed—
How they speed,
Thy witching days;
Watching where the shadows pass.
And the grass
All rustling bends,
While the bees fly east and west,
On a quest
That never ends.
Thus to shun the whirl of life,
Freed from strife
And freed from care—
Hear, as when a lad I heard
How the bird
Sings, high in air.
June, to hear beneath the skies
Lullabies
That night airs blow;
Ah, to find upon thy breast
That pure rest
I used to know!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1895)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Secret Life Of Bees
my memories call to me, the sight of my mother plays in my head.
T-ray doesn't speak of her
When he does he just says that she left me
so i ran away with rosaleen
I sure did.Stole her right outta the hospital before they put her back in jail.
i found myself in a small town Tiburon, South Carolina
looking for clues that my mother had been there
living with the calendar sisters (may, june and august)
Pretending to be someone I'm not headed to place I'm certain I'm not going.
The honey makers, as they are called
honey, honey, honey is used for everything
June played for the dead, while May mourned for them.
May was the world's twin, feeling the pain of everybody
Her wailing wall was full of notes I bet some where for june and neil
sorrow grabs a hold of the house
When Zack's arrested for throwing a bottle, May couldn't take it.
Till we found out that the river how it claimed her life.
A letter is all that's left
For may: May she find peace in god's arms
A sign was all need to know I was loved by her.
I finally told August the truth, and she told me the answer to the questions.
August gave me my mother's things
There was my sign
But my peace didn't last long
Then all of a sudden the devil himself was on the doorstep
Living in the past; he grabbed my hair and tried to yank me out.
After I learned the truth about my mother and the way T. Ray used to be
And seeing him now. the only question i had for him now was aboout my question, as i watched him drive
thats when august, june, rosaleen and the daughters of mary, they became my new family and that's how it will stay/
poem by Tatiana Enriquez
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My Cancer
A little more has died
A life so disguised
A million masks
One for each day
So happy
I got all the answers
One of them is my cancer
A world full of blood
All for what we call love
So we can fake it
So we can take it
It's all ours
A little more has died
But at least I can say I tried
A million tasks
One for each day
So busy
No time for answers
I already got one, Its called cancer
A world for the innocent
A road to the oblivion
A mouth full of razor blades
So cut up
Mangled by the verbal
Some words are best left unsaid
Better for the undead
A little more has died
A child wonder why
A million people have asked
One for each day
So much agony
Looking for all the right answers
But I got is this cancer
Another tragedy
An accident that can't be undone
A noose hanging off the wall
A phone rings
But nobody's there to answer the call
A little more has died
Another lost soul has been denied
A million that will never last
One for each day
So angry
No more answers
All I got left is my cancer
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I Just Died In Your Arms
Oh i, I just died in your arms tonight
It must have been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
I keep looking for something
I cant get broken hearts lie all around me
And I dont see an easy way to get out of this
Her diary it sits on the bedside table
The curtains are closed
The cats in the cradle who wouldve thought
That a boy like me could come to this
Oh i, I just died in your arms tonight
It mustve been something you said
I just died in your arms tonight
Oh i, I just died in your arms tonight
It mustve been some kind of kiss I shouldve walked away
Is there any just cause for feeling like this?
On the surface Im a name on a list I try to be discreet
But then blow it again
Ive lost and found
Its my final mistake shes loving by proxy
No give and all take cos Ive been thrilled to fantasy one too many times.
Oh i, I just died in your arms...
It was a long hot night she made it easy
She made it feel right
But now its over the moment has gone
I followed my hands not my head
I know I was wrong
Oh i, I just died in your arms...
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Fountain Court
The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
The flickering green of leaves that keep
The light of June;
Peace, through a slumbering afternoon,
The peace of June.
A waiting ghost, in the blue sky,
The white curved moon;
June, hushed and breathless, waits, and I
Wait too, with June;
Come, through the lingering afternoon,
Soon, love, come soon.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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