Best Famous Thursdays Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Thursdays poems. This is a select list of the best famous Thursdays poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Thursdays poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of thursdays poems.
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Written by
Rg Gregory |
when the doctor came on a monday
he looked at my mother and said
there's something seriously wrong here -
she's had a stroke - she's almost dead
it must have happened on thursday
why wasn't i told before
the busy rest home shook its head
we thought she was drowsy - nothing more
she only came to us a week ago
she was angry and violent and bitter
we drugged her some and settled her down
then she started to joke and chatter
it was thursday when her husband came
with a daughter and a son
we've given her a nice warm bath we said
she's in her room with the tv on
we were busy and went up later
we were given such a long deep stare
the husband and the daughter were crying
the son - he was just standing there
the old man was showing his birthday cards
he was wanting her to recognise
her eyes were lost inside themselves
if deep pits can be said to be eyes
then the old lady began to mumble
like stones dredged up from a well
she was really a long long way away
but a stroke - how were we to tell
it was only yesterday we became alarmed
she seemed eaten away in her sleep -
it's too late now the doctor said
she's leapt where i cannot leap
my mother died the next thursday
as the new moon was borne above
her stroke had lodged a twig in her mouth
and her face was the face of a dove
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Written by
Cesar Vallejo |
I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris-- it does not bother me--
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.
It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.
César Vallejo is dead. They struck him,
All of them, though he did nothing to them,
They hit him hard with a stick and hard also
With the end of a rope. Witnesses are: the Thursdays,
The shoulder bones, the loneliness, the rain, and the roads...
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