In the summer of 2007, God received an angel.
The Angels name was Katie.
Katie was sweet & Katie was good
But I guess God wanted sweet old Katie
Out of the hood.
She did all she could, she gave all she had
But never in her life treated anyone bad.
Jesus, I know that she’s good
I know that she is great
But sometimes I just hate,
Hate that she is gone
Hate that she is away
I think about her everyday.
Everyone & Everything is changing
Family is falling apart,
Oh why it’s breaking my heart.
Tearing the house down acting like pure clowns
God you got a gift
But sometimes I wish,
Wish you hadn’t took my Angel
Wish you would have let her stay a little longer.
God received an Angel.
The Angels name was Katie
I hope Katie is with me daily
Until I die & visit her in the sky
House is up wholesale, everyone thinking
“WHAT THE HELL”
Angels, Angels, Angels
Angels flying here, Angels flying there
Angels are flying around just about any & everywhere
You took a couple of my families angels in strange ways
I get up in the morning wondering when is my day
& who will be next to depart us.
My heart was broken when you took my Angel
Oh, why did you have to take her,
Her out of all people
She followed the rules and the laws
But I am wondering is that all.
Copyright © Sharika Sellman | Year Posted 2012
Here lies too great gentlemen, father and son.
Named after Edgar Alan Poe, so great a man was he.
But now, alas! They are now where Poe is,
There spirits having returned to God until that Glorious Day.
Copyright © Rainbow Promise | Year Posted 2015
My heart is broken in this night,
her words have again stolen my light.
What she said made my dreams fall apart,
leaving nothing but a hole for a heart.
For it was not my name that fell from her lips,
and through my soul that name now rips.
This pain is more than I can take,
I lay on my bed and weep and shake.
Without her by my side i will not survive,
I can no longer find a reason to be alive.
Copyright © Mason Cowell | Year Posted 2009
This is about a man whose name is Jesse
Born In Kansas and raised in Missouri
Was called to fight for his beloved country
And assigned to defend an outlying territory
Jesse fought as hard as any American would
For freedom and democracy he did everything he could
For Uncle Sam, even in danger steadfast he stood
Believing in his heart that everything will turn out good
He was with the Death March in Bataan
But he was helped to escape by his special someone
Josie was the name of this special woman
Who walked along with the March since it began
It was in the territory that he met Josie
A woman whose dad was from Cincinnati
The two fell in love cause they had chemistry
They had their first child in nineteen forty three
In forty four he was again captured by the Japanese
He was already sick cause he caught a disease
Was taken to a prison camp and placed under lock and keys
In the end the harsh conditions led to his demise
Josie tried to look for his grave but failed
She couldn't do anything and in sadness she wailed
There were reports that he died in the hell ship as it sailed
But to get proof to the true cause of his death we have failed
Jesse died in January of nineteen forty five
Stories about him that Josie told kept him alive
In the heart of his descendants his memories survive
Love for him in their hearts continues to thrive
But every time I go to bed and close my eyes
I see his face and think of the truth that I despise
My whole body stiffens and I get as cold as ice
Sadly thinking that still, in an unknown grave he lies
(For my grandfather US Army 2nd Lt. Jesse C. Boak of the 33rd Infantry
Regiment, who was declared MIA in WWII. His body was never found and true
cause of his death was never known.His name is listed in the Tablets of the
Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and on a Memorial Monument at the
State of Missouri
Grandpa even though I never got the chance to really know you I will always be
proud of you-JEB)
JESSE C. BOAK
2nd Lt. US Army
Awards: Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters
Copyright © John Boak | Year Posted 2006
for René Etiemble (Jan. 26, 1909 – Jan. 2002)*
Barely a few speechless moments before your first words
burned the « Coplas por la muerte de su padre » :
‘Nuestras vidas son los ríos
que van a dar en la mar,
que es el morir ;
y llegados, son iguales
los que viven por sus manos
y los ricos.’
Is the open back door which emboldens courage
No untarnished name to be remembered by
No selfless mate to lay by your honour
No issue laying about themselves for your prize
Decidedly it was a door of stealth
As if choosing it you let it be known
you were only merely passing by
and stopped to hang your hat here for a while
Yet you let your kin and callers believe
your whims were worth putting up with
your mischievous tantrums and gripes
merely the mental athlete’s unwinding antics
The poïetic birth pangs of imminent glory
just the mounting stones in the monumental lighthouse
that ages from hence would pick forth
your works your unfathomable literary resource
You upheld dozens who did leave behind a name
a lasting name not quite torn from solitary pain
Yet who could deny you could have bettered their fame
What undisclosed pain you harboured in your brain
Oh so strangely were you endowed with the intelligence
of the Chun Tzu - that uncanny eagle’s scan
To rout out of the mazes of your students’ past lives
just that one passqge through their Tierra del Fuego
But then you who completely espoused the rigours
of that step by step mounting of respectful steps
Were unsparing in your demands of adherence
to old Master Kung’s hierarchical obedience
An open hand ready to sign any cheque
to succour the caller’s needs
was alas ! also the whip hand
To keep the renegades in constant check
You were possessed of a rare brand of anger
which shook the land about you
At those who bent justice to their unsavoury will
such thunder boiled from the guts of the earth
Now you’re gone and empty lecture halls echo your
uncontainable ire where forged resounding silence
You said at the start of a seminal master-seminar :
« Nul n’est prophète dans son pays ! »
With the distaff side hanging on your every word
wondering if your plans were for something yet undone
No stray notes lie about to record your travail
No visible correspondence to make it all credible
Only books and books files magazines and books
and an overcrowdedly conquered mental pad
jumbled words scratched into shaded inchoate sketches
ganglia synapses shot-up neurons
no clues to a ragingly flailing mind
none to record the lives you succoured
nor even the beneficiaries’ hurriedly scribbled thanks
nor besides to the beclouding relations with one and all
not even a hint at why you may have refused
to forge a name beyond the beaten path of fame
Would going by the front door
in a fanfare of tv talkshows conference papers prize-giving ceremonies paper- interviews in ample studied poses and thoughts for future auto-memoirs volume one to seven the rest put-together posthumously in an omnibus
expurgated version with prefaces notes introductions critiques eulogies
would it have been less like you
to exit by the side-door
the baywindow leading to reflected glory
in a cool cloister of loosened leaves
stray poems in the tradition of your schooled masters
or did you burn them all
in a fit of (cou)rage
tore them to bits incinerated by your fiery mind
or squashed within yesterday’s leftovers
not caring who thought what
the mocking condescension
* The late Professor René Etiemble held the Chair of Comparative Literature at the old, pre-1968 Sorbonne University but retired in 1978 while a professor at the Sorbonne-Nouvelle University. In later life, he even refused nomination to the French Academy of Letters, though he did accept the Academy’s Prize. He was a prolific critic, essayist, and memorialist, having published some poetry and three novels. A renowned linguist and grammarian (a graduate of the prestigious and elite Ecole Normale Supérieure de Paris), he remained until his very last days an inveterate Sinophile. He edited the Gallimard-instituted UNESCO oriental literary classics series, a fitting tribute to his encyclopaedic learning.
© T.Wignesan, 6 novembre 1997, Fresnes-94, France (from the collection : Poems Omega Minus, Paris, 2002)
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012
“My Name is Cancer”
My name is cancer; I have no regard for life.
I break hearts and tear apart families.
I appear out of the blue and strangely.
I do not see race, or age, or beauty in people, for I’m a disease, and blind to the good hearts I take.
The more people I take from this earth, the more I‘m feared.
I’m inside everyone: every mother, father, sister, and son.
To know me, is to know death,
To feel me, is to fell anguish.
To see me is like seeing then sun, then falling away into darkness where there is no more light,
where there is only pain.
Where there is only a feeling of hell that you do not understand and cannot explain.
I make friends cry, I make families feel hopeless.
Is it fair for me to make the vibrant wither?
Is it fair for me to take the old before their time?
Is it fair of me to strike fear into the hearts of families?
Is it fair for me to take the life of an inanest child?
I’m just but a disease that knows no bounds.
Hopefully you never have the misfortune
of hearing my name.
Copyright © Joseph Staup | Year Posted 2016
There are many of our friends and families who are no longer with us this day
So in the name of Jesus for them we will pray
We reach towards the hands of God, the Lord and master of our lives
We worship Him and praise Him in His son's name, The Lord Jesus Christ
We look up to His face, we look up to His eyes
We honor HIm today, we glorify Him who lives up high
How excellent Is your name oh Lord down here on earth
We magnify your presence, we place you first
We stand before you today oh Lord In the Need of Prayer
We come to you oh Lord as adopted sons and daughters
Exalting your name like all good children ought of
An whenever the seasons of life happen to intercede
We come to you Father God with our hands stretched out in need
We trust in you completely and thank you for all that you have done
Our hands in supplications because of the sacrifice of your son
Forgive us for our guilty feelings, our doubts and all of our fears
Remove the iniquity form our hearts, a burden we no longer wish to bear
We stand before you once again oh Lord In the Need of Prayer
Let your son's blood cover us and give us the breath of life
In the name of Jesus, the Kingdom that is Christ
Who died for our wholeness, who died for our sins
We thank you for the salvation and to be back in your good graces once again
By the covenant of the blood that was shed on Mount Calvary
On the crown and on the cross for all humanity to see
We stand before you this day oh Lord in the Need of Prayer
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007
I whisper your name
Feel the familiar soothing sounds and rhythms
As they slowly tumble over my wracked torn lips,
See them free-fall in to the abyss, ever downward
Unseen, unheard by a busy disinterested World.
In that whisper I feel the loss
Each parting syllable cutting the memory
Slicing as a switchblade brandished by a callous hand,
Leaving me bleeding and afraid, yet indifferent to my fate -
And wrestling with your final and ebbing chorus.
But on the breeze, into the azure, your name is bourn!
Whisked by unseen hands, carried on the zephyrs soft breath
Eastward and homeward to Natures tender bosom,
Away to a World unaltered, one which does not mourn loss
Has not the inclination nor the time.
It is there, among the daisies and hocks
And mingled with the hawthorn whites,
That the tussling, warm west wind pauses,
And slowly as feather dusted pollen, you settle,
Midas rests, and my heart is gold.
Copyright © john thomas | Year Posted 2009
You left that night not knowing the outcome
After going to a party you wouldn't be home from
You had a few drinks what was I to say
Who knew you where throwing your life away
You got in your car and started to drive away
What a way to spend your last day
I got a call saying something was wrong
Your heartbeat faint, your pulse almost gone
The doctor came and said there was nothing they could do
They tried hard but he didn't pull through
There's a cross now to silently tell the story
As that day's memories fade into history
Your name in a book of deaths for that year
I'm sure everyone knows that name written with a tear
The price we had to pay was much too high
Maybe if you knew the cost you wouldn't of had to die
You could have taught me so much if you were still alive
Though you still taught me to not drink and drive
Copyright © Ashley Pedersen | Year Posted 2005
Hush now don't say a word
Death is near
I'm not scared
Don't have no fears
I know what is happening here
Don't treat me as though I'm gone
Enjoy these moments here
Soon I will suffer no more
My time is near
The good Lord is here
My name has been picked to go
My time has come now
I am going home with Him
The Lord is my Father here
He called my name
I'm not just a number here
I see those Pearly Gates
Getting closer to my face
Say later not goodbye
This aint the last time we meet
I'll see ya in the near future
I'll be standing by
I'll watch your every move
For now I'm watching out for you
Hush now don't say a word
For death is near
Copyright © Christina Beeler | Year Posted 2009