Long Daughter death Poems
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I am the Devil, alone in my Room
Redolent of pungent cologne and perfume
Naked I parade, in front of my mirror
No leering or catcalls, nothing to fear here
Incantantations I utter, so weird, so strange
Ha! There's no one around to call ME deranged
I make my way to my bed, a kingly throne
Where I curl up with my pet rat, telling bedbugs, "Begone!"
Time now to cross-dress: Where's my pitchfork and tutu?!
My adoring subjects dare not label ME 'Cuckoo!"
Alas, there' begun a steady knock at the door
It's Mom or it's Dad, unaccustomed to wait... But
"I'M NAKED AS A JAYBIRD, HIGH UP ON A ROCK!" So...
Just one more second, revered elders, while this pistol I load
~ As I prepare to return to my fiery abode...
Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch
. . . qui laetificat juventutem meam . . .
She was the joy of my youth,
and now she is gone.
. . . requiescat in pace . . .
May she rest in peace.
. . . amen . . .
Amen.
NOTE: I was touched by this Latin prayer, which I discovered in a novel that I read as a teenager. I decided to incorporate it into a poem, which I started in high school and revised as an adult. From what I now understand, “ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam” means “to the God who gives joy to my youth” but I am sticking with my original interpretation: a lament for a little girl at her funeral. This was my first translation. Keywords/Tags: Latin, translation, elegy, eulogy, epitaph, lament, prayer, hymn, joy, sorrow, grief, requiescat, pace, rest, peace, amen, death, funeral, grave, girl, daughter, sympathy
"I Wish"
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose...
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes...
I wish,
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why?
I wish I could find the reasons now, and not wait until I die.
Mostly, I WISH Mommy could fix this.
Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013
RIP March 25, 2013
----------
by;PD :-(
It was on this day
December the 21st, 1988
Pan Am Flight 103
Would learn of it's fate
Blown out of the sky
For all the world to see
Two hundred and fifty nine people
Rained down on me
My country Scotland
Lockerbie town
The falling of life
In deathly down
This 747
Model 121
Laid-en with fuel
The horror's begun
Argentinian, Belgium
Bolivia too
Canada, France
Sat beside you
Germany, Hungary
India as well
Hey, Herr
The flights going well
Ireland, Israel
Italy flew
To go to the States
All feeling brand new
Jamaica, Japan
Philippines seated
Family toil
Families depleted
South Africa, Spain
Sweden in flight
JFK
Will not be tonight
Switzerland, Trinidad and Tobago
The United Kingdom, United States
All of the above
On this December date
We also remember
Eleven on the ground
Who obliterated to nothing
Not hearing a sound
The town of Lockerbie
Will never be the same
Yet one of the gang goes free
Because the poor guys in pain
Where's the compassion
Of the 270 lost
Their memory now tarnished
To the Scottish Governments cost
We set him free
To his home he goes
Treated like a hero
All compassion has froze
My thoughts and my tears
Are for the truly lost ones
Who will never enjoy
The return to their hometown
In dedication to the 270 who lost their lives on December 21st 1988.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss.php
Around that table, picture the scene
Self appointed leaders if you know what I mean
What were the topics on the Agenda that day
The Jewish race is about to pay
Who gave the right for this decision that's made
Who has the right to cleanse and degrade
To decide who lived, to decide who dies
Another chapter, I still wonder why
They came in the day they came in the night
Women and children pulled out of sight
Herded aboard like cattle and sheep
Many a family awoke from their sleep
Dazed and confused as they are taken away
Where will they be at the end of the day
From their warm houses and their warm beds
What must be going through their heads
As they travel through days and through the night
Up ahead, they see lots of lights
They depart the trucks and board the train
Their faces scared under the strain
Asking questions from family and others
Generations, sisters and brothers
Why are we here, where are we going
Windowless carriages with no way of knowing
We come to a stop, soldiers aplenty
Towers and wire, topped with sentries
What can this place be they have taken us to
As we head to large gates as they shuffle us through
Families separated, herded in file
Women and children, not one did smile
Taken to rooms where our heads were shaved
Is this the way humans behaved
Clothes discarded, as we enter the shower
No signs of water no signs of power
Doors slammed as we are all crammed in
History will recall this evil of sins
As we stand in the dark, chanting Jewish faith
Can hear the voices can't see the face
Noises above, do the showers start
The event has begun that tells us Humans apart
Questions and sighs, as walled vents show daylight
Some thing is falling then their slammed tight
A strange aroma starts to fill the air
As all around are screams of despair
Twenty minutes have passed and the quietness is rife
Two thousand people, two thousand lives
Pellets called HCN, or Hydrogen Cyanide
Contribute to this Genocide
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Goodbye daddy
Dear daddy I hope you can hear this
Part of me really hopes you can
But part of me thinks that you can't
And then I can't help but reminisce
Reminiscing over the memories
But then about all we will miss
You'll never walk me down an isle
Instead I'll be toasting in your memory
You won't ever see that white dress
Or even wipe a tear from your face
They'll never be a father daughter dance
And at the end they'll be no caress
You'll never meet any of my children
To see if they resemble me and
Of course then would resemble you
Will they be artsy will I even have one
I can't help but be angry you left me
I no you would never have done
Without good cause or reason
But I no if you can be near me
You'll be right by my side now
And until I guess we meet again
If that's what occurs in the afterlife
By then you'll be in the know how.
Until then my dearly departed
Dearest daddy I just pray
You are with me if only in spirit
And that I've not been deserted
If only you could have lived
a life for sempiternity or infinity
Unfortunately it wasn't to be
Your life seemed so short lived
hopefully it's just for now though
And I'll see you again one day
Then we can dance For eternity.
Until then you'll remain my hero
In a special pocket of my heart
Although I don't want to wish
For time to quickly pass me by
I can't help the wants of my heart
Just for now at least
I guess this is so long
Untill we meet again
Goodbye daddy rest in peace
Preface:
Earlier today May 28th, 2021,
the 12-member jury unanimously
found Cristhian Bahena Rivera guilty
of first-degree murder in brutal stabbing death
sentenced to life in prison
without the possibility of parole
of Mollie Tibbetts remembered as then friendly
20-year-old who was studying
to become a child psychologist.
IOWA CITY, Iowa
(killingly, jarringly inexplicable,
horribly, gruesomely, and forlornly),
the body found July 18, 2018,
an exhumed decayed corpse
belonging to young
vibrant coed twenty year old
college student Mollie Tibbetts.
Impossible mission to deduce
senseless killing of innocent babe
wild speculation perchance
spurned, snubbed,or scorned
love seriously gone wrong,
she who disappeared
from her small hometown
in central Iowa sad swan song
now plays, where every
last drop of sorrow rung,
now weeping family, friends,
relatives, et cetera subjected wrack
with lifelong emotional pain,
which searing inescapable
grief twill unrelentingly track
ferociously, fiercely, and figuratively,
doth disallow recourse
to duck away
from heart wrenching quack
king unbearably, terribly, and scathingly
will fully bill leave ably
beak homing a folly,
mockery, and travesty,
sans time heals
all wounds (truly "FAKE"),
nonetheless psyche riving tragic
(irrevocable loss) doth pack.
Grievous punch greater then any
all star olympic pugilist
straight to the ab
domain of opponent, where
rumor mongers mill and blab
how this, that, or
another potential suspect,...
whence tissues dab
corners of crying eyes,
an endless stream
of tears merge with gab
bullying utter disbelief.
Family/friends question
the supposed almighty
at devastating loss
to do nothing but bawl (at Baal)
into the fox sized rabbit hole
trying with futility
to block (even crawl
ling into every
rabbit hole) no bastion
against implacable
maddening crowded
house alive with murderous frenzy,
and a dialect (non
tickling) gentle Iowan drawl.
Third anniversary regarding
asper the impossibly steep toll
the purposelessness killing,
aforementioned deceased
affected sodden wet soul
cannot process any (defying) logic,
a foregone lovely gal (same age
as my youngest daughter),
whose missed presence,
(albeit said slain lass
Mollie Tibbetts – permanent absence),
now created an expansive
infinite black sink hole.
Hello young man! I surely have heard a lot about you.
I drove here as soon as I heard the news,
And I’ve something to say if you can excuse.
God gave a bird in my nest, we call her Steffy.
She grew up fair, slim, silent but was obtuse sometimes.
Nothing made her happier than the pair of ankle bells.
She wore it like Kumudini and let her feet dwell.
Day and night she stomped her feet until the floor sing.
Everything was fine until the tables turned and fate blink,
She lost her mother.
She needed a blanket as these winds blew chill,
A mother in her father and make her life still.
While she was sinking in the ocean like black granules,
I rafted and drown myself in my Jack Daniels.
She wore ankle bells and dance to live again.
But her efforts to take my booze away were all in vein
One day she came from the school looking for her happiness.
And she found nothing but the loneliness again.
For my booze I’d her ankle bells pawn,
Shattered by this, by morning my bird had flown.
“Steffy never mentioned about her childhood and now
I know why”, saying this young man made a way for me
So I can see her the last time.
Drenched in sorrow I move towards her coffin,
And touched her feet that where as hard as dolphin.
With the tears coming from my mangled shell,
I slowly kept inside the coffin, her pair of ankle bells…
- Kunal Rathod
A tribute to all dancers. :)
My Father’s Face
I see my father’s face
And I can see a trace,
Of sorrow and regret
Of wishing never to forget
I see my father’s face
And I can see a place,
Where there was happiness and joy
When he was just a boy
I see my father’s face
And I see it in a daze,
Not remembering where he’s been
Or what he’s ever seen
I see my father’s face
And much to my amaze,
I see the lines upon his forehead
And the white hair on his head
I see my father’s face
And want to hold him in my embrace,
Plant a kiss and wish this day
That I could make pain go away
By: Nena Enriquez
“An Old PhotoOf You“.
I just found…. A photo of you,
The photo is old,
but my memories of you… are new.
These are the days.. that just fade away,
Never know what to say, or do.
I stay in bed all night and day,
Shots of whisky to make me…
but I’m just counting sheep
And lying here wide awake, … just.
Staring at that photo of you.
And.. the emptiness of life.
Haunted by an old photo of you.
And the sheep painted on your cute little red shoes.
Before that drunk driver……. killed you.
And.. the emptiness of life.
With just An old photo of you,
And the white sheep painted on your cute little red shoes.
© London F. BuSS