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Poem about death

CypressCynthia's picture
Posts: 4017
Joined: Oct 2009

I heard this on the radio this morning and I know it is kind of dark and I apologize for that, but the anger in it resonated with me and helped me somehow.  I thought it might resonate with some other kindreds.  I am po'd at this disease!!!


Dirge without Music

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Christmas Girl's picture
Christmas Girl
Posts: 3688
Joined: Apr 2009

And I am not resigned.

kmenurse's picture
Posts: 223
Joined: Apr 2013

I wish there was a like buttom on this site like FB has.... So here it is...LIKE!

SIROD's picture
Posts: 2204
Joined: Jun 2010

 but the best is lost.




PS:  Edna St. Vincent Millay was born in Rockland, Maine, a city not to far from where I live.  I am familiar with her poetry.  Thanks for posting CC.  I hate this disease too.  I feel totally depressed that after 31 years, billions in research for bc, we are not even there yet.

CypressCynthia's picture
Posts: 4017
Joined: Oct 2009

I am not resigned and the best is lost.  I am so angry and want an end to it.  I have a lovely daughter and 3 wonderful nieces.  I can't but worry what their future holds with this beast.  

But I will speak out and I will fight on and I will participate in research when I can.  Cancer is part of me and my enemy, but I will not live peacefully with it.  I am not resigned!!!!

CypressCynthia's picture
Posts: 4017
Joined: Oct 2009

P.S. Doris, I did not know that she was from Maine.  So many interesting authors from Maine.  I just read Elizabeth Strout's The Burgess Boys and really enjoyed it.  Don't know if you have read any of her works?  Much of the book is set in Maine and I believe she is from Maine?

SIROD's picture
Posts: 2204
Joined: Jun 2010

Yes, Maine does have a lot of good authors.  I have read all her books except the newest one.  

I remember a foreign exchange student from New Zealand saying, when she was accepted in the AFS program and would be located in the  state of Maine, she knew where it was located.  Due of course to Stephen King who lives in Bangor aboout an hour away from where I live.  My CancerCenter was located in Bangor but recently built a new facility and it's beautiful, out of town.  Really only about 5 miles more or less from their previous location.  Martha Stewart summer's in the area.   She purchased Edsel Ford's mansion called "Skylands" in Seal Harbor.  She did a lot of nice things for the area as has Tabitha and Stephen King.  I have never read any of Mr. King's books.  Not my type.


CypressCynthia's picture
Posts: 4017
Joined: Oct 2009

Lol, I can't read Stephen King either.  A friend really recommended one of his, but I couldn't get through it--I was too creeped out.  Not my thing either!

LoveBabyJesus's picture
Posts: 1671
Joined: Jan 2011

This reminded me of a poem I once wrote when I was in high school, years ago. My English was not so great as I had just arrived from my native country. I was in a dark place. I figure I can share it with you since this post is appropriate:




When you see my eyes are closed,

And I am no longer speaking,

Would you try to speak to me?

Would you try to listen?


When my body is stiffed,

And my skin feels cold,

In the so called burial,

Of silence and sorrow,

Would you say my name?

And pretend I am alert?


If my heart was open,

And my face was pale,

Would you kiss my forehead?

And touch my nose and hair?


When there is no turning back,

And I go away,

With a tag of no return,

Would you help me pack?

Or would you keep them by?


If I could not move,

And I knew of no place,

In the lonely dark room,

Would you grab my hand?

To guide me through the trail?


When the people surround me,

And I need some space,

To choose whose tear I want,

Would you push them away for me?

So I could decide?


When the box finally closes,

And there is no time for goodbyes,

And I start feeling real hot,

Would you place your hand over me?

Until my box hits the ground?


Once I am where I belong,

And you are lying on your bed,

I would wait until you dream,

And come see you once again.


I would kiss you on your forehead,

And tell you I loved you so,

I would look into your eyes,

And ask you to let me go.


I see the light now; I no longer need you so.



CypressCynthia's picture
Posts: 4017
Joined: Oct 2009

Lovely poem.  Thanks!

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