Death Came to Me When I Was at a Meeting

An Epitaph for a Social Activist

 

Death came to me while I was at a meeting,
Opened up my chest and wandered in.
Nor did it leave until a few days later,
Satisfied it need not come again.
It was a death both unforeseen and fitting,
Living as I did for what I did,
Being one averse to merely being,
Engaged in service to the world I would.
Remember me, then, as I was when death
Made its sudden entrance to my heart:
Attentive in my seat, my wife beside me,
Night come, the meeting just about to start.

 

© by Nicholas Gordon

 

Audio and Video Music: Elegy. By Asher Fulero. Music free to use at YouTube.

 

To see this poem on my site, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/death2.html. For more epitaphs, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/epitaphs.html .

Recently I Dreamed I Talked to You

May 15, 2021

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is religion.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

A religious poem about how faith makes grief more bearable:

Recently I dreamed I talked to you.
You were in the desert, and you said
That I would never want for love, for you
Would love me now until the end of time.

I cannot think that you are wholly gone,
That one day you could simply be no more,
And it should come about that your bright soul
Would vanish like a rainbow in the darkness.

For me it is as if you were away,
Somewhere on a very long vacation.
And though I know you're dead, you do not seem
To be beyond the boundaries of my love.

Our souls do not abide in days or hours
But in a love that never, never ends.
You will be with me till life is over,
Then I with you somewhere beyond the stars.

© by Nicholas Gordon

To see this poem on my site, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/recent.html. For more poems about religion, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/religiouspoems.html.

This week’s theme: Religion.
May 10: The Wave Without Becomes a Wave Within
May11: How Might One Untie the Knot
May 12: Each Fast Is like a Cleansing of the Soul
May 13: Eid Is Bittersweet
May 14: Little Do You Know How Much You Love Me
May15: Recently I Dreamed I Talked to You

Note: Google has decided to discontinue Feedburner, the free service that sends you this daily email. At the age of 80, I have decided that this would be a good time for me to discontinue the Poem of the Day. The last Poem of the Day email will be sent out on May 23rd.

I will still be posting a new Poem of the Week each week at my Web site (https://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html), as well as regularly adding new poems, drama, and fiction to the site. And you are welcome to follow me on:
Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/PoemsbyNicholasGordon)
Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/poems_for_free)
YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyyixnna5SPO5EIe4IAKkXQ)
and Twitter (https://twitter.com/poemsforfree).

It has been a pleasure sending out, first, the Poem of the Week and later the Poem of the Day for nearly a quarter century. Thank you for being a subscriber and best wishes to you all,

Nick

There Is No Threnody for Utter Darkness

January 15, 2021

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is song.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

A poem to a deceased loved one about not wanting to let go:

There is no threnody for utter darkness,
Nor dirge for nothingness, nor song for silence.
I sing to you in all your piercing presence.
You are not gone, but haunting in your nearness.
My pain is unrelenting in its starkness,
Unmerciful. Your ever-present absence
Becomes the heart of me, my grieving essence,
As I hold you in the shadow of your stillness.
Ah, my darling! I'll not let you go
Though years pass through the chamber of my sorrow
And memory alight upon my will.
Sweet winds may through my open windows blow,
Yet I will sing to you upon the morrow
And dance with you across the sunlit sill.

© by Nicholas Gordon

To see this poem on my site, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/there7.html. For more poems about death, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/deathpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Song
January 11: Everyone Finds Comfort in a Song
January 12: For You, May Every Moment Sing
January 13: Sing of Dreams, Those Blueprints of the Future
January 14: Silence Never Was a Long-Term Option
January 15: There Is No Threnody for Utter Darkness

Single Life Is Hard for Those Who've Shared

January 3, 2021

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week in honor of the new year is new beginnings.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

A number poem for someone who has lost his or her spouse and must begin a new life alone:

Single life is hard for those who've shared
Each day with someone whom they've deeply loved.
Valuing the quiet loneliness,
Even pain and everyday distress,
Needs a joy in life that's unimpaired.
There's no secret way to happiness,
Yet love is known to have great sadness moved.

For you I wish a garden of bright days
In which you stroll among sweet-scented flowers.
Vistas of great peace must fill your hours,
Even as your sad-tinged music plays.

© by Nicholas Gordon

To see this poem on my site, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/single.html. For more number poems, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/numberpoems.html .

This week’s theme: New Beginnings
December 28: To Be Thirteen Is to Be, Well, a Teen
December 29: Revel in the Moment! It’s Well Earned
December 30: Congratulations on Your Retirement
December 31: Out of Who We Are Comes Where We Live
January 1: Midnight Is a Purely Human Thing
January 2: Here’s to Chey and Corey
January 3: Single Life Is Hard for Those Who’ve Shared

Poem of the Week

May 27, 2010 #583
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is a Memorial Day poem.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Memories are all that I have left.
Each becomes a well-worn photograph.
Missing is the warmth, the touch, the heft
Of life, the smile, the reassuring laugh.
Real people change, they grow, relate, unfold.
In time we share the adventures of their lives
As they marry, have kids, change jobs, grow old,
Loving us – their parents, husbands, wives.
Dead people are alive in us, but they
Are not within themselves. No love revives
Your love, which I once cherished day-to-day.
 
© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

May 13, 2010 #581
 
Dear Subscriber:
 
This week’s poem of the week is an epitaph.
 
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." 
 
You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.
 
Yours,
 
Nick Gordon
 
Life blessed me with a sunny disposition
Even as I lived through terrible storms.
Sport was my passion; justice was my mission.
The world, I thought, was something one reforms.
Embrace it, then, with all your warmth and joy!
Rebel, as I did, for, and not against,
Resolving to create, not to destroy,
Open-armed and loving, not incensed.
Delight, exuberance, a child's wonder --
Not naively did I these display.
Even though the wide world split asunder,
Yet one needs to live and love and play.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

December 3, 2009 #558

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about death.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week." You can also cast a vote for it to boost its popularity on Yahoo Buzz.

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Years turn the pages; the book remains.
No one can see the life it contains.
The story is over; it sits on a shelf
Outside of time, complete in itself.
Ah! Could we know! But never we will.
Now it is sealed, silent and still.

© by Nicholas Gordon