"She will be so glad to see you, Abraham Lincoln."
The last words he spoke were to his wife
He had no hate and found hate to be small
can't be held guilty for the choices made
Shortness of his life is etched on time's wall
and leaves a dark stain that can never fade
He sought to contain the evils of man
This dream lost, disappearing with the wind
His tears fell softly when the war began
To this time, to this place, he was destined
His eyes perceived a land of ashen pyres
Yet long to conceive of perfection found
and saw a way to light life's hopeful fires
A clearer path was wished on sacred ground
The distance traveled, his short life spent
The days unraveled with tearful lament
Death Bed Poetry: Dylan Thomas
Alcohol and co-dependence make poor conspirators
Delivering more a life driven by inquisitors
Dylan Thomas poet and drinker
Part time lover and full-time thinker
In fading health and across the sea
He gathered himself for one last spree
The White Horse Tavern welcomed the man
And there he started his final stand
"I've had eighteen straight whiskies. I think that's the record!"
Alcohol, pneumonia, and Doctor Feltenstein were more than he could afford
Caitlin flew in to remark, "Is the bloody man dead yet?"
Comatose and failing, the bard was not quite there yet.
Still and silent, and lying abed
A few hours later and Dylan was dead
having gone "Gentle into that good night"
with no further words and such little fight.
Thus, the end of our Welsh poet Dylan
a bit of a rogue but not such a villain
who now learns Death does have dominion
in spite of the bard's differing opinion.
“I must go in, the fog is rising.”
~Emily Dickinson
I must go in, the fog is rising,
outside my door the world is fading
and I won't see the sun arriving
to color morning sky awaiting.
It's been said life lasts an hour only,
days pass by as if a charcoal painting
left out in weather and so lonely,
leaving simple shadows in the waning.
Death does not kindly stop for me,
suddenly does it appear like night,
or perhaps like fog arising slowly~
and I must enter in to find the light.
The first lines in stanza two and three were inspired by Dickinson poems
"I must go in, the fog is rising." ~ Emily Dickinson
The fog moves gently through the field,
touching each blade as if to say goodbye.
It leans against her windowpane,
a quiet guest come to lead her home.
Outside, the birds have gone quiet.
The air holds its breath;
She gazes once more at her fading garden,
where colors drift into soft gray peace.
Her lips part only to release a sigh,
the sound of something setting free.
No struggle, only the stillness
that comes when light meets rest.
And when the fog has lifted,
the room keeps her calm behind…
a hush, a whisper,
a bloom of white where her spirit passed.
"I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have." ~ last words of Leonardo da Vinci
Dear Leonardo, one so easily admired,
countless souls you have inspired.
It's been five hundred years, and yet,
the world, it seems, cannot forget.
So striking, your last words of regret.
How, then, can this be?
You make us question. It is your style.
What makes the Mona Lisa smile?
She gazed at you with all her heart,
bemused at the genius, set apart,
and became the world's most famous art,
and so maybe I can see:
I do not think it's false modesty,
but another puzzle key
to the meaning of your quote,
as history you rewrote,
God's divine purpose to devote,
you didn't optimize your gift.
While I don't know God's thinking,
I expect He's unoffended and unblinking.
You needn't brood or smolder.
From your illustrious shoulders -
go ahead, remove that boulder.
Give your heart a lift.
I would expect He had a plan,
using you the best way He can.
" Sarah, remember that yourself is good enough. "
Sometimes words are spoken
To one, or just a few.
Yet they find a way to resonate
With other people too.
And throughout all of history
Her message echoes through...
"Remember that yourself is good enough"
As is oneself too!
This is a powerful message
Poignant and profound
A reminder that each person
Has potential to be found.
A guide to our resilience
Let your inner self sound.
You matter as you are
Not as a clone of others around.
So the Queen told Sarah Ferguson
And in a way she says to us,
Never to forget something important
Even when things are feeling rough
And the demands of life and people
Seem to grow more tough....
Just remember.... just "remember
that yourself is good enough."
“To my unbounded sorrow,”
said the famous Nostradamus,
“the gods are out to harm us.
I won’t make it to tomorrow.”
He died that very night.
At least he got one thing right!
As yellow leaves wither in the autumn breeze,
only apathetic thoughts remain
in this nonchalant existence of
my diseased body and over the hill mind!
It reminds me a time of agility,
A time of struggle and celebrations,
An age when dreams of a better future bloomed,
And leaping up those stairs to pluck the petals of success.
The illusion of youth, believing I would remain the same forever,
My beauty, once admired by the mirror,
My body, that lied about its boundless strength,
And the willpower that upheld my beliefs!
Now, my poor mind, dreadfully distressed,
on the fritz of my worn body parts.
Here I am, at the dusk of my life,
panting and staring at the steep stairs
called ‘rest of my time’!
I wonder, are there any tears left
to cry over the memories of my vigorous days?
Or, has time swallowed even the sorrow, leaving only silence?
At dusk, at the beginning of the night,
the majestic divine transition;
the sun undoes its yellow splendor
The moon presents its silvery glow...
We here below receive the gifts...
we feel in harmony with the universe,
we feel our belonging to the creator!
Snowing-- a hiemal, deathly air
Their frigid, frostbitten fingers hold nothing
Uncomfortable silence washes over all there
A petalless, thorny rose someone is clutching
Her corpse, defunct, stiff yet motionless
Skin, once warm brown, now ghastly
Her grinning face, now emotionless
They thought she would die lastly
Life has limits, death endures eternity
From her loss, not a single tear was shed
She, a daughter, never within confraternity
No one ever cared to hear the words she said
So she lay, her arms crossed against her chest
No flowers were dropped upon her frail body
Instead, the thorny rose stabs her breast
Unhuggable cacti she could embody
On her prickly torso, blood streams
No one shall wipe liquid and spikes off
No one shall pay respect, it now seems
They simply do not really care; they scoff
So there she’ll lay, unloved and disrespected
With not blooms and gold, but many a thorn
Only snow showers her, quite expected--
That no one would dare to mourn.
Do you ever cry for no reason
Try to skip a special day
Forget about the seasons
Get angry, you just may
Do you cherish & love them
Do you hold them dear
So many messages sent
Just wishing they were near
Don't ever lose the will
Give up hope or lose faith
Always tell them how you feel
Show them everyday
If they ever get any chance
To speak the thoughts of you
Do they give a warning in advance
Fight & argue til blue
Is it something made up in your head
Someone you love or so close
Someone still alive or dead
Nobody really ever knows
Nobody will try to understand
My feelings of you I hide
Life to me will never be grand
I keep it bottled inside
You are my reason for living life
Why did he take you away
So much pain that i feel
Tears I've cried everyday
When they fall from my eyes
Roll slowly down my cheeks
So many times I want to die
Without you I'm incomplete
Not even death will help me heal
Not everything can be replaced
The pain the hurt the "Emptiness" i feel
Only you could ever fill that empty voided space
“She spoke to me; expressing desire to rid of her being soon. In her possession lay a bottle of ibuprofen and a dozen sharp razors too. That three slits down her butchered arms is all it really takes; that her life is intolerable and has been burdened through mistake.
…
In a state of panic, she opened up to me about how she was abused; as touch was spread over her innocent figure, even though she refused. How it affected her, and drained her necessity to live; I wanted to yell out, to tell her parents, though she lacks and isn’t resistive.
…
She told me that when she dies, I shouldn’t mourn or cry; that I could use her clothes, borrow her diary and expose. But my laugh lacks its joy, my content being has been destroyed. Though she doesn’t want her parents to know, she has to live therefore my words flow;
…
Please don’t die.”
How pure the joy in this man's life
How mighty till the end
His greatest work - his girl, his boy
Their father and their friend.
Yet sweeter still their children brought
Such laughter with their wiles
And Granddad rocked and shook his head
His visage wreathed in smiles
He truly was a friend to all
His watchword to be kind
No fancy talk from Yorkshire's son
Nor malice in his mind
And steadfast still the marriage made
His lady and her beau
Whose life we celebrate today
Dear heart we'll miss you so.
Adored, Revered, Unforgettable
Irreplaceable.
If ever thou didst love me first,
My heart shall pledge in boundless trust.
If thou bestowed upon me armor bright,
I would be thy golden knight.
If ever thou and I didst entwine,
I’d fight for thee with soul divine.
And if in battle I should fall,
I’d skip death’s grasp to heed thy call.
If ever two were one, then surely we,
If man were loved by wife, then blessed am I, indeed.
If ever joy in wedded bliss was known,
I trust thou shalt find it in our love alone.
For I prize thy love more than all the world’s gold,
Or treasures vast that mortal eyes behold.
If ever vows were made for eternity,
I vow forever, ever, to thee.
Specific Types of Elegiac Lyric Poems
Read wonderful elegiac lyric poetry on the following sub-topics:
death, sad, love
and more.
Definition | What is Elegiac Lyric in Poetry?