Dust

7 Comments

Tags:
  • Inspirational
    • ,
  • Life

    Poem Commentary

    Latest attempt.... Written on the Ferry today. This is still pretty rough.

    Dust

     Believing that all men are formed from dust
    And in the end to dust we must return,
    What solace might we seek along the way?
    What reason might we find or lesson learn?

    Are things the goodly measure of a man?
    Armani, Mazaratti and Chanel
    Were hollow long before our lives began,
    And can't be taken with us down to hell!

    The instincts of the heart are rarely wrong,
    Treat others as we long for them to do.
    In peace we can as people get along
    If I don't put myself ahead of you.

    And in the final day our measure lies
    Not in the things we got but what we gave.
    The love we give to others never dies
    But lingers on long after our cold grave.

    Poem Comments

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    sanctus commented on Dust

    02-21-2011

    Another good write. Very well done.Just excellent!!!!!
    Reply to Comment

    PoetWithCancer commented on Dust

    02-13-2011

    4. I've posted several poems about Brian. Back in August I wrote "The Best Person I Ever Knew: My Best Friend Brian." // Before he died, while he was in the hospital, and I had to break off my 24/7 stay with him to go home to get my diabetes medicine, I wrote a poem and posted it about how afraid I was this doctor was going to kill Brian. Titled: "My Bestest Friend: Dying, Doctors, Love, and Callousness." That was two days before Brian could not take the abuse anymore, and died. // Since then, I've written poems about the horror of what happend, and the value of the love and friendship we had. The shortest one is "Following My Friend" and the longest is "The Flowers that Brian Didn't See." Of middle length is "Dream of Life, Dream of Friendship, Dream of Love." The latter two are anguished, yet there are some good moments in them. // I wrote two poems that do not discuss happened at the hospital. I wrote one on how much I miss Brian, called "A Single Fortune Cookie." And then I posted one called "Life Is"--which I wanted to leave as a legacy of my valuing of life. It doesn't talk abut cancer or murdering doctors or grief, but only about how precious and magical life is--and I posted it in my freind's honor and memory. // Those two poems I know are good. I think maybe "Following My Friend" is possibly good as a whole, and definitely good in places. I know that there are some mometns of good poetry even in the long ones, embedded in the anguish. // If you can only read two, read "A Single Fortune Cookie" and "Life Is." If you can read three, read also 'Following My Friend." // I mean, if you want to. // // Your poem here is good. I will save it to my favorites and come back to it when I finally feel better. // Thank you. --Michael L:P, Mr. Poet
    Reply to Comment

    gmcookie

    02/13/2011

    Poet, It's late and I just got in from taking the kids to the movies. I will read more of your poems tomorrow. I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your health insurance. I went to Camp Obama, got trained as a community organizer and worked very hard as a grass roots organizer in the health care reform fight. I know you are not alone, because I met many other people in the same boat as you. And for what? For greed, for profit. The injustice of this is unbelievable! The core idea in this poem is that our primary contribution to life is really love. That after we are gone, that is what people will remember. Perhaps it is insensitive of me to refer you to this poem, but I believe the concept is more clearly stated in this poem: http://www.originalpoetry.com/death-does-not-equivocate My apologies if I have been insensitive for referring you to that. I'll read your poems tomorrow. Peace, my friend. cookie

    PoetWithCancer commented on Dust

    02-13-2011

    3. We were quite happy, till cancer came into our lives. First me; a year and a half later, him. But he died in a little more than nine months after diagnosis, because the hospital doctor starved him to death. // So, how do I feel now about the idea that the "love we give to others never dies"? All the love and joy that Brian's friendship gave to me is now grief and regret, because I did not save him from a doctor imposing involuntary "euthanasia" on him just because he had him in his control, had no appreciation for the value of his life to him or to me, and he could get away with it. // Now I'm facing my own early death. Brian had medical insurance, yet this doctor killed him by starving him. What chance do I have in the medical system, when my insurance ends? // I'm bitter, I know. I hope you will forgive me. // Your poem is beautiful, and does contain some truth. A month ago, my comments would have been very different. But I have the cold taste of dust choking me right now; and having held and hugged and wept over the dead body of Brian--53 years and 4 months old when he was killed--and knowing that I must follow soon--even with treatments, my cancer will cut off a lot of my time--I just can't feel all that good about the love I'm going to leave behind, or the poetry, or anything else. I'm grieving over the killing of my friend, and I'm feeeling fear as the days of my insurance, and then the days of my life run out. // And my kind of cancer kills very painfully.
    Reply to Comment

    PoetWithCancer commented on Dust

    02-13-2011

    2. I know I'm not the only one in this kind of horror story. Many are like me. We already have Death Panels in our health care system. I faced one two days ago, when I was told I would not be covered anymore. I told them that I woiuld be killed by my cancer years sooner than I have to be, if I don't get treatment. They told me they had their rules. // This is happening at what was already the worst time in my life. I just lost my best friend. I know what I'll be like as a dead body, because I saw what he was like. Six days shy of a month. Now buried and gone, and half of my heart is buried with him, for we were extremely close. We loved and cared about each other so much, that some people sometimes mistook us for a gay couple. Not so; but no two people ever loved each other more deeply.
    Reply to Comment

    PoetWithCancer commented on Dust

    02-13-2011

    1. This poem is well written. In iambic pentameter that only deviates from the pattern in appropriate places that establish due emphasis. // The subject hits home with me, and hits hard. Recently, my tumor markers went up. To make matters worse, I have finally lost my long battle to keep health insuranace: and at the end of this month, I will have none; and then the Cancer Center will refuse to give me treatments, and I will be begin to be rapidly eaten up by bone-spreading cancer. Unless, somehow, something or someone helps me in time.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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