November 10, 2011 #659
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Veterans Day.
You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .
Yours,
Nick Gordon
Vast fields of crosses, all the same,
Each embellished with a name.
This is what your love had sought!
Embrace the child become a thought,
Reduced to regimented loss,
A name screwed on a plain, white cross!
Nor can you feel what you must feel
Since what is real cannot be real.
Devour the moment, make it yours,
As life continues on all fours,
Yearning, begging at closed doors.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Showing posts with label sad poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad poems. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
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
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
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Poem of the Week
November 19, 2009 #556
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem about marriage.
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
I do not understand why you don't love me.
You loved me once. What changed? What did I do?
Your eyes are mirrors in which I can't see me.
Your lips are closed, a door I can't pass through.
For years we shared our bodies, thoughts, and lives.
Now we lie at night encased in stone.
Something's turned the simplest words to knives.
I live with you, and yet I live alone.
I do not want to be the one who leaves.
After all, I'm not the one who changed.
But dead is dead, and for the one who grieves,
The loved one should be gone, not just estranged.
You say that nothing's wrong and all is well,
But I well know the truth you will not tell.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem about marriage.
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
I do not understand why you don't love me.
You loved me once. What changed? What did I do?
Your eyes are mirrors in which I can't see me.
Your lips are closed, a door I can't pass through.
For years we shared our bodies, thoughts, and lives.
Now we lie at night encased in stone.
Something's turned the simplest words to knives.
I live with you, and yet I live alone.
I do not want to be the one who leaves.
After all, I'm not the one who changed.
But dead is dead, and for the one who grieves,
The loved one should be gone, not just estranged.
You say that nothing's wrong and all is well,
But I well know the truth you will not tell.
© by Nicholas Gordon
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