These Thanksgiving Death poems are examples of Death poems about Thanksgiving. These are the best examples of Thanksgiving Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)
Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:
Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.
He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.
After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.
In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.
Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.
He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.
Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.
On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.
Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.
His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.
In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.
On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:
‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.
Tell my people that I love them.
They must continue the fight.’
Mahlangu died for a cause!
The Struggle Continues…
(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)
It's not about barbeques,
Hamburgers and franks
It's a day set aside,
For offering our thanks,
For those who died,
Or were injured or maimed
To fight against evil,
Whatever it's named
Pity that God couldn't
Give them this day,
To let them come back home,
To their families and stay
Just one day a year
To retaste their love,
And let their dear souls,
Know how we think of them
While they're above,
They sacrificed their greatest gift
To keep us safe
Though in sadness we drift
No more Thanksgiving dinners,
Movies or pies,
Just a host of loved ones
Who can't dry their eyes
I salute you dear brothers in arms,
Men, women, children with innocent charms,
You've done your job,
So adequately well,
It's up to us now,
We live in hell.
Sorrow so heavy
we bend at the knees
No trick or substitution
Ever will please
We hang up your picture
But it doesn't talk back
The love we did share,
We now sorely do lack
Your family and friends,
And your whole country too
Does cry for your sacrifice,
And salute you.
My mom was a strong woman, and stubborn too,
Yet she had a soft side, between me and you.
That side she would show, when you least expected,
But let me tell you, she was well respected.
Mom was quite unique, and was one of a kind,
She was set in her ways, so keep that in mind.
The youngest of nine, she had gotten her way,
Spoiled by her siblings’, almost every day.
Right out of high school, she had married my dad,
Blessed with three children, plus fifty years they had.
They both were hard workers, in all that they did,
My dad taught himself, from when he was a kid.
My mom was a smoker, for forty-six years,
Some day it would happen, she’d face all her fears.
Lung cancer she had, and inoperable too,
Her time on this earth, would be shortened we knew.
Radiation and Chemo, had done their thing,
Remission set in, tears of joy it did bring.
We would go out at night, to shop and to talk,
I knew she enjoyed, getting out for a walk.
Two years had gone by, after Thanksgiving Day,
Her pain had returned, but was afraid to say.
She’d lie on the couch; it was strength she did lack,
We knew in our hearts, that the cancer came back.
We shared lots of laughter, but many a tear,
I tried to assure her, she’d nothing to fear.
“Please watch over your dad, this one thing I ask.”
“I know it will be, quite a difficult task.”
One morning in March, Hospice called us to say,
You may want to come, for she’s slipping away.
For the night before, mom told me to stay home,
“Be there for your kids, you can call me by phone.”
When we all arrived, for a moment she woke,
Her eyes said it all, not a word had she spoke.
We stayed by her bedside, just holding her hand,
“It’s time to let go mom, we all understand”.
A few days had passed, not ready to let go,
For it had been raining, but letting up slow.
The sun began shining, the clouds disappeared,
Opening the heavens, for mom’s time has neared.
We gathered together, her forehead we kissed,
Whispering so softly, how much she’d be missed.
“Your time has arrived mom, just follow the light”,
She left us so peaceful, she gave up her fight.
It was time to drive home, in the car we got,
Then something had happened, while leaving the lot.
Huge drops of rain falling, it had to be fate.
They were tears of joy; she was at heaven’s gate.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
A demised man without
Jesus is dead.
So also living soul without
to receive hope,
To set the captives free,
With thirty pieces;he
Dark forces defeated.
Our sins forgiven,sure
Access to the father.
Breach in Adamic time,
Put in oblivion by lasting
His love is lasting.
The death of Jesus!
Lo He has resurrected!
THE PASSING OF TIME
It was a warm April day, early in Spring
My mind sharply aware of everything
I heard the buzz of a bee on new spring flowers
I heard birds chirping – I listened for hours
I heard the whine of a small plane in the blue
And thought, for a moment, I'd like to fly too
As my thoughts soar along on this beautiful day
I blinked, only once, and then it was May
I marveled at this and knew only too soon
That in the twinkling of an eye, it would be June
How quickly time flies when we look at events
We wonder and ponder just where the time went
There suddenly seems to be a chill in the air
The leaves have fallen – the trees are all bare
We gather the family for Thanksgiving Day
And know that Christmas is not far away
But what's that I hear, as my thoughts start to spin
It's that bee in the flowers buzzing again
Where did the time go? I ask myself
I wish I could keep it in a box on a shelf
But time marches on, and days fly away
And we must realize that time cannot stay
Each day can not be the same as the last
There's a future beyond us and a time that has passed
As you're reading these words, written some time ago
There's something I wish you all to know
On earth, time will end for you and for me
But in Heaven with our Lord, it's for eternity
3 April 2005
A shadowy death spider crawls upwards
Grappling at skin, slowly dragging you down
Creating creases with unforgiving feet
Clinging first to chin
No thanksgiving for your turkey neck
Jowls form, limp, sagging, thin
Then the spider slips under your mottling skin
Between joints, dragging heels
Creaking, chiseling, chipping at cartilage
Eating your apple, crumbling your bones
Stealing memories, mocking mobility
Hair turns from black too silver, and then grey
A shadow of the former you
Total bodily betrayal
And a single, one way ticket, to god know where...
Hospital bedside mourning
The turkey has passed
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)
they shot you down
all those years ago
your dream lives on
and always will
for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for
and much, much more
to fight for still
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
we shall overcome
(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)
Matzos slip into their mouths
Voices project merrily...tonight is
The night of Unleavened Bread
Lamb and other delicious
Meats and veggies... satisfies our taste buds
What a splendid night it is!
Wine's brewin' in our wine cups
The dinner table - creates pleasant talk
During this meaningful night
There's moments of quietude
When it comes to de-leavening our lives
But, there's moments of gladness
On this night of peacefulness
Cheesecake - a delightful treat to savor
During this night of pure bliss