Don'T Let Me Die a Young Man's Death

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Robert J. Lindley, 3-19-2019
Rhyme, ( Good Health, Long Life, Greatest Of Treasures )

Note: Inspired to compose this new poem this morn,
after reading the great poem by Roger McGough.....

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Let Me Die A Youngman's Death - Poem by Roger McGough

Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an all night party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

by Roger McGough

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ Don't Let Me Die A Young Man's Death Let me live healthy a century more not hard decades filled with old age and pains not as sad, ungrateful angry old bore nor even man of wealth and stolen gains just a death that casts me through that last door. When I have made my seventy-five years may I not be fried by a lightning bolt one that is so hot that it burns up tears not one from pale sky with too weak a jolt nor a death so quick it destroys my fears. When ninety, let sleep not take me away may I be in my youthful dreams of love those so hot that they scorched coldest of days not those with large monsters flying above not death so strong, it destroys coming day. When I am hundred and five, send not this a ninja clad in black with sharpest blade or a poisonous snake with silent hiss one certified by instant deaths it made nor death so fast, I feel not its last kiss! When I am at one hundred sixty-five may invisible hand remove my head if time has passed and I am still alive by hand of Fate, make sure I am true dead just a sure death, one so richly contrived. Robert J. Lindley, 3-19-2019 Rhyme, ( Good Health, Long Life, Greatest Of Treasures ) Note: Inspired to compose this new poem this morn, after reading the great poem by Roger McGough....

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Vladislav Raven

Date: 3/24/2019 9:55:00 AM

Hi Robert, once more you amaze me with your skill and creativity. You write on death with such poetic truth. You give this subject a poetic grace, as you give all your writes my friend. We live, we die, we live. In your hands, death is not a taboo subject. You show true poetic flair in every subject. May your pen ever run gold. Your poetry shall always sing. A fave. Have a wonderful Sunday. Your friend always....Mike.

M. L. Kiser

Date: 3/21/2019 10:45:00 AM

I think that I'd rather be fried by a lightening bolt than to linger, in a hospital or nursing home, kept alive by machines and unable to speak or enjoy one pleasant moment with friends and family. But, that's a matter of individual preference. I believe we leave this realm when our time comes; until then, we have each day, another adventure, be it pleasant or agony...our soul still learns...still shares...we are each, teachers.

Robert Lindley
Date: 3/23/2019 1:19:00 PM

Thank you my friend. Death as a poetry subject is not taboo, as many modern poets seem to think it is in this modern day and age. Life- We are born, we live, and then we experience death. If inclined to explore it a poet should do so and write from their heart.

Carole Duet

Date: 3/19/2019 3:57:00 PM

You will never die, Robert, because you are a writer/poet and your poetry will live forever...like this one: so great! Love & hugsss. Carole :D

Robert Lindley
Date: 3/20/2019 3:50:00 PM

Thank you my dear friend. As a poet I hope that at least some of my poems may be remembered and be valued as a help to others.