A few years ago I was given only months to live, and I was in such pain that I cried out for death.
Yet still I wrote, and here are three of the poems I wrote then, when I thought each poem would be my very last.
______________________________________
Pain After Pain After Pain.
_______________________
More pain than I can stand
Hits me every now and then,
I try not to scream out loud,
I try not to die.
But the pain shoots down me
Like a bolt of lightning,
And I curse the very day
That I was born.
Welcome to stroke-land my friend,
Welcome to the old, the near-dead.
I can’t re-marry or even have a close friend
For it’ll scare the shit out of them
To lie next to me in the night
When a spasm occurs.
Only poetry keeps me going
Not only by writing it, but by reading it too.
Only poetry keeps me from going insane
When it’s pain after pain after pain
After pain after pain
After pain.
—
Terry Cuthbert 1996.
__________________
When I die, please don’t
Carve my name out in stone,
Not in marble
Nor in bone.
Just remember my poetry
And then learn why
The reason that I lived
The reason that I died.
Just copy my poetry
Out in books
Even if I’m the first to admit
That it sucks.
The words alone
I leave behind
From a broken body
And a broken mind.
I will die soon
I feel it in me
But I need no tears
I need no sympathy.
Just save my poems
And them alone
And never see my name
Carved out in stone.
Bury me in a field
Forget the place
Forget that I was part
Of the human race.
Just save my poems
That’s all I ask
That can not be such
A difficult task.
And when I die
Let my poems live on
Not under my name
But under “anon”.
Goodbye now
And thank you my friend
For ever and ever
In time without end.
—
Terry Cuthbert.
__________________
“I am killing myself tomorrow”
___________________________
No more tears on an empty beerglass,
No more lonely walks home,
No more sad bedsit telly,
No more looking out the window
On happy people below.
For I am killing myself tomorrow,
Across the streets of hawthorn and car-tin
Catching the pale sun of dandelion dawn,
I shall spread myself,
Mouth full of stones,
Hide my face in a light-blue sky,
My grease-hair on a bed of white clover
As my testament to those who brought me
Chunks of this selfish world.
I am killing myself tomorrow.
For risk of foolishness
I shall do it quickly and without silly drama,
I won’t be leaving a note or a poem
Denouncing all who have given me death
And cursing them into shame.
Who can I leave a note to in this wilderness of lies?
My only friends are the tarmac and the dosses of grass,
A bottle of low-proof whisky tucked inside my old coat
And the long knife of cold winter.
It was not always this way,
This sorrow in my life, no, once I was happy
A head full of laughter under brickwork of youth.
Too long has the church clock struck misery,
The shops been full of unattainable goods,
Too long has bramble stung my outstretched arms,
Like a scarecrow, or a child feeding pigeons,
Too long has fungi closed my eyes.
Don’t try to convince me that the stars are mine,
Because the litter-bin of my mind has choked on such lies.
Don’t say that someday someone might put glass in my windows
Where there are now rusty bars,
My garage is full of such failed dreams.
I am killing myself tomorrow,
You will find me dead in a copse,
So farewell,
And do not phone me on my mobile
For it shall ring no more.
—
Terry Cuthbert.
——————————
To cheer you all up a little, here is a piece by Sophie Lucy Morgan about Bonfire Night in the UK.
—-
(From) Sophie’s own protected blog.
All week, fireworks have been going off, upseting my cat Sooty. Sooty loves being outside normly, unless it’s raining or cold. Now he just runs outside and goes to the toilet and runs back in again.
Guy Fawkes-night is soon, I don’t like hollawein, I think it’s silly but I love Guy Fawkes night every year cos granpee has a BIG bonnfire and LOTS of fireworks.
He tells me fireworks were better when he were a lad, they had jumping-jacks and so on. Today its just rockits and roman candels.
Nanny says granpee is just a big kid but then nanny does stovies and roast chestnuts (not conkers) and so on, especcly if its not raining. Last year on the saterday, when it always is, it rained and I had my sparkers on the Sabbath, though granpee said that Jesus would have loved them and have rote a pallable about them.
My American on-line friend, Faith; who is 11 had never heard of our Bonfire Night, so here are 2 links.
Sophie Lucy Morgan, aged nine.
(Note Sophie and her blog are fiction)
Ps Winter time starts tomorrow. last year I told the Sarah-birds to put the clocks back and they told me it wasn’t they who stole them!
Comments (53)
So glad you survived to bring all of these poems we would have never known. So very glad
Yes, indeed! If… well… if, one day, you disappear from this earth, from this xanga, or from anywhere, I’ll still remember your poems and you. why? because my brain can handle it… well, and because you and your poems are worth remembering. <3
wow 1996, isnt it amazing finding stuff of old and remembering…
i think id prolly think the same way if i thought death were dear, i just cant see myself wanting to go publicizing myself with my poetry, but rather give it as a gift for people.
i just want it to be enjoyed, perhaps make people think and rethink their prior logics about life, and make them imagine.
John
ok…Sophie is Real!………
Terry u must learn to do as I…if u don’t like something don’t comment!…
will u be online this nite…I shall rip u up then…lol
and I do so love the first 2 poems here…
they are definately tear jerkers but I need a good sob anyways
hmmm much respect…Dorothea
Some things are eternal~and the spirit of the Poet is one of them~You have this spirit~To those who read your Poetry~Those to whom you reveal this spirit~you are legend~
No time to talk legacy when the heart of the poet still beats~and pen is put to parchment~though I understand how you must feel facing such terrible and mortal pain~You have ever been kind to me and I shall never, never forget such kindness~and I look forward to your many, many days of writing Poetry~
~And it is beautiful, profound Poetry you share this day~
In Light of Wellness and Well Being~your friend, Laurieglynn~
I witness your poetry. Was it you who said you suffered a ministroke? I send you strength and thoughts of comfortable ease. Merrow
I make a bow of thank you! Did you know that Ray Bradbury wrote in his preface to “October Country”, “May I die before my voices…If some morning in the future I wake and there is silence, I’ll know my life is over. WIth luck, on my last day, the voices will still be busy and I will still be happy.”
It isn’t true, what you said. I would not forget about you in one year. I don’t forget people.
Your heartbreaking.
Your poetry today is heartbreaking.
~lisa
I’m grateful you survived. I will always enjoy your poetry. Just make sure to haunt someone who can publish your work when you die….I’m more than willing to do it!
*hug*
Jeni
First of all, I am so glad that you lived.
I hope that you are feeling well today. When you are feeling bad tell us so we can help you… somehow, perhaps pray.
I loved these poems only because they are very telling of a horrible time you had… I feel sorry that you had to go through this.
Thank you for your very kind thoughts for my dad. I am so happy he is doing well. I am not ready to let him go. Blizzie and I will see him and my mom on Monday the 1st.
I love Sophie Lucy Morgan.
Be well
Oh! and I do not like the silly quizzes… I dont usually get lured into things like that… I just did it and posted it and then thought, how silly, oh well
How sad those poems they made tears come to my eyes and no I dont think anyone who has read your poems or met you would ever forget you.
your definately one of a kind. 
Angela
Brilliant poetry Terry, especially the first two.
My heart goes out to you,
and my whiskey’s raised.
Your gift’s and strength’s
mate, command great praise.
Slainte!
DRINK!! DRINK!! DRINK!! DRINK!!
DRINK!! DRINK!! DRINK!! DRINK!!
I cannot imagine such pain. I am a real wimp when it comes to pain. And to be able to still write poetry in the midst of it is mindboggling. Sure glad you made it through. Would have missed getting to know you through your amazing works. Glad to see Sophie back. I don’t have to think so hard while reading her!!
great poems LP…
Well, I’m glad you’re not dead and I hope you never again suffer the pain to make you want to be. Though “I’m Killing Myself Tomorrow” struck me most, isn’t it an oxymoron, or at least ironic that while the poem states you won’t be leaving a note or a poem, the poem is a poem/note?
By the way, thanks for the praise of my Birds of Paradise but you why aren’t you sure it’s a poem?
Excellent work. Often pain is what creates the greatest art …………
Writing poetry is what keeps you going?
One can say that the site is wonderful.
Thanks to Internet to let us have the opportunity to know such poetry.
I agree with Sophie cat, fireworks and haloween and birthdays and la befana and Sinterklaas upset me too, firework the post because of the boom-booms.
Thank you for commenting and subscribing. If not for your visit, I would not have got a chance to read such beautiful, touching poetry.
You say you wanted to visit India. I believe in rebirth. Shall we make a date to see each other 100 years from now. We will meet somewhere in India, though we both may not remember we made such a date in our next birth.
Here is wishing you less pain.
“… it’ll scare the shit out of them
To lie next to me in the night…”
Yeah, my old fart said he couldn’t sleep with me because the way I was gasping for breath shook the whole bed, and when the breathing would stop, that was even worse.
“…put the clocks back… weren’t the ones who stole them.” I must remember that. I’ll probably get a chance to use it tomorrow when the old man asks me if I remembered to put them back.
I admire your work….awesome stuff here!
I’m touched. It’s so beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes.
The world didn’t have enough of your poetry yet, and so you lived to write more. In pain, perhaps, but lived to write more soul stirring words, and the world is better for them.
Remedied that one, now I am and glad for it too as you know you are my ——–, and see if you can figure that one out.
Loved every poem and though all struck a cord, this one “Just remember my poetry“ is one I could have written as I feel exactly the same.
PS, I’m practicing.
you are so popular! but, duh, it’s because your writing is amazing… and although i know people write though pain and all other emotions, you just do it so much… better? haha
<3 sarah
p.s. -why didn’t YOU chat last night? you should have… it was just as much fun, if not more, than last Thursday night!
Sarah is correct…I wish you would have stayed online a bit longer…anyways I loved the chat we had…
Poignant poems, So glad I you did lose ablity to write.
i am speechless…your poems left me that way…truly a poet are you…huggs…Sassy
What wonderful poetry!
i keep forgetting you’re from the UK…
so your reasons are acceptable, lol
wow… glad you are with us
I myself write lots of prose and rant types of things, but your poetry is really inspiring and beautiful. It gives people like me something to aspire to, so thank you!
props*
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“I am killing myself tomorrow” – & I’m glad it was metaphorical, my lad – is fekkin brilliant. One of your best- I think it’s the emotional honesty and the powerful images that emerged to express the depths of such difficult passion.
You wrote out your pain, and you’re still alive. I admire that.
How sad that you had to write those poems. I hope you are not in such pain now Have you ever thought of putting your poems into a book, as I doubt people will print them out and keep them. Look at Forward Press Com ,and look at their Spotlight poems you get at least 18 -20 per book, shared with others a bio page and photo if you want it.and they only cost 5 pounds each, and you have to buy 12. plus postage not much for you in England ,more for me as I have to pay more in dollars ,and also more postage but at least it is a way to get your poems into print forever. it would take several of these books for yours but cheaper than paying for a whole bookfull for yourself that works out very expensive, as you have to buy so many, still in England, you probably know of ones that do a few whole books, more than I do. I haven’t found anywhere as cheap as Forward in Australia and they do say they award prizes each year .I suppose they must. Cheers Marj
dang, that middle one about made me cry, you are such a great poet.
well glad you’re still around to bless us with your poetry.
~V
That’s….so……sad :’(
thank God, you proved those doctors wrong.
- D
Vote for John Kerry — no, wait don’t. Yes, do. wait.
oh i wanted sophie to be real lol, such a sweet little girl with such a funny tune.
&
i ‘m glad you didn’t bite the bullet back in 96, i’ve only felt such pain in short burst never once over too long of a time. then again i am always drowning anyway.
now this had me laughing for a good 5mins =)
I told the Sarah-birds to put the clocks back and they told me it wasn’t they who stole them!
Hi Terry, I am not a Buddhist but I believe God is in our hearts not in religion and it’s just that I am fascinated in all things and like to explore them all.
It was a shame about your cousin some people just wont accept that there are many things in our universe which we truly do not understand Take Care and Have a good week 
Angela
Meant to give you 2 eprops but my mouse got stuck and lo and behold before I could undo it there it was gone into cyber area. Angela
These are really moving, also thank you for still living to bring us more beautiful poetry.
Succinct … that is all!
you won’t be forgotten, you’ve touched many lives in many places, it’s a dangerous thing to reach out, but the alternative is probably sadder, I’m glad you choose to share your thoughts- much peace and hope you go some good places in your readings and writings..
You amaze me. And the fact that you continued to write through your ordeal amazes me. Love these.
well you survived the pain some did not i know all too well i suffered along with them i was really moved by your honesty here which is a healer in itself as bitter a pill as it is to digest one of the saddest nights of my life was when i heard my mother crying for the first time in my life she was paralyzed in her bed i was in another room and her her heart wrenching almost screams but she had only half a voice i ran into see & she in her half voice told me he ha otr wo mn my father her husband of over 40 years had left their marriage bed forever leaving her alone with additional pain 40 some years compounded daily she said he has another woman & till this day he still does blessu LORD ur a lucky one magii
ps another sad day was when my grandfather stroked as he was running to meet me he died of pain brutally
another sad day was when the sun in my sky my other grandfather had his voice taken forever and was bound to a metal chair on top of his beautiful mountain so tanned but unable to ever walk the earth with me again he died but me mumbled the LORDs prayer every nite with my grandmother before he went to a restless painful sleep mag
i felt it all
thank u magi
ps they were not so lucky as to be able to write all of their feelings & thoughts down their hands were curled up into balls kinda like mine when i used to get really lonely because i missed them all so much thank u for reminding me of this bless u magi tey were all beautiful cretations mag_1 out
Good lord! You were given only months to live…eight years ago? I’m sure I’m not alone in being thankful to whatever powers may be that you survived. It’s funny, because I tell people all about your poetry all the time, and your various “personalities. You know, almost every single time they look at me like I’m nuts. Now you’re in the hospital again? Shit! It will be a sad day indeed for us when you finally shuck your mortal coil. Fear not! Your poetry will be remembered…and passed on.