“Do not go gentle into that good night
But rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
(Dylan Thomas)
We must face death with solumn dignity,
See those who have passed away
As going to a better place.
But I find it hard to hide my anger
When the deceased is a young person or child.
I make all the right noises,
I try not to cry.
I tell silly hopes about heaven to the parents,
I hide my anger with God
For snatching the young away.
Yesterday I buried a young boy.
12 he was.
I let them sing a pop-song he had liked
And I spoke about his favourite toys.
There was no wake,
No one felt like having one.
I was glad because I would not have hid my anger
At such a young death.
“You look ill Toby”
My lover said to me later,
I told her of my feelings
And we raged together
At the dying of the light.
—
The Reverend Tobias Trontby +
__________________________
The Flyer.
_________
“I wish I could fly” she said,
Looking up at the moon.
She looked at a bird.
“How can I fly like you?” she asked.
“I learnt to fly” said the bird
By stepping off a large tree
And flapping my wings”.
So she tried that,
She climbed up the tallest tree
And she jumped.
She is now with wings
But as she looks down to her body
And hears the cries of her parents,
She wished then that
She did not learn to fly.
—
Sophie Lucy Morgan, aged Nine
Comments (47)
be back later.
Dylan Thomas — Wonderful poet.
yes. It is different when the death is in the natural order of things…..we grow old, we live a full life…we die many years before our children. But when that order is broken, bearing the grief is harder. Good work.
I
Rev. Toby
This was great.
being dead and dying is not fair when the person has not had a chance to live yet and even discover if they like life.. or when their lives are stollen from them by a murderer or war…. lot of things can make this life less than the best place to wake up..
My feelings too at the waste of youth…but life tends to be so harsh when reality steps in. Well said
Nancy
I think the first part of that Dylan Thomas bit was said before by a well known poet like Shakespeare. I see you are still up to form with your vaious personalities, i hope you are going to have a good Xmas where you are .Cheers Marj
i would hate to die that young…i pity anyone who dies so early they don’t have the proper chance to live…it is quite unfair
(
So much unsaid about how a life was wasted because that person died too young… They died with everything ahead of them… You express the unfairness, and the anger at the dying of the light, against which we need to rage, through the Reverend… The Revered who has all the answers, who is God’s Spokesperson on earth… Irony and feeling working very well in this little poem of profundity.
I have been catching up on my blog reading tonight. I hope you are feeling better. The poem about the Palestinian girl was powerful. That situation is so wrong and so sad. The poem in this blog so true:
But I find it hard to hide my anger
When the deceased is a young person or child.
I make all the right noises,
I try not to cry.
I tell silly hopes about heaven to the parents,
I hide my anger with God
For snatching the young away.
Excellent
*tears* It reminds me of someone I know who… passed away last year.
The good Reverend Trontby is so real~Truly
Blessings~
I really like the Sophie poem. Very nice.
I suppose to best way to write good haiku is to read it. Your examples were lovely. Your suggestions were much appreciated.
Oh wow … death is always a hard subject to put into words … but you have done so eloquently … like only you could.
Yes, when you go with the Japanese definition it isn’t the same as our syllable count at all. But since that is what the dailyhaiku site is using to define it (the syllable count) I try to follow their lead when replying to their prompt. I am enjoying having a xanga based meme that is poetic in nature.
HAHAH no I wasn’t talking about Saddam..I should edit then. funny funny
Your comment inspired me…
the little boy…while a moving poem…brought tears to me…he deserved more…hopefully God will see to it that he gets more…the little girl…well…imagination can be a dangerous thing and listening to little birdies that tweet silly meandering thoughts is not good at all…thanx for hte visit and while I have seen some come and go and come again…I am glad your still here dear xanga friend…I enjoy you…your a very sensitive person…huggs…Sassy
Dylan made a strong point and he xas a great poet.
If we just knew something more to explain death and make us understand….
Sophie Lucy Morgan aged Nine really writes as i would like to write.
Ir is a beautiful poem, I love this one.
I’m very sorry about the trouble you have reading my sites. I’m glad your keep stopping by anyway! These poems were two more great pieces of your fine work. My heart sunk over the first one, but I was smacking myself in the forehead; shaking my head at the innocence lost re-written over the girl who got her wings the hard, less-than-intelligent-or-patient way. I hope you’re feeling better, Sir Terry. Thanks for the comment on OneDarkKnight.
ur choice of poems is very deep, make one think more then once…
ryc : wandering star what does that mean?
Raging’s OK, if it helps us cope. We all need to grieve in our different ways. Our first task is to understand ourselves in this regard. Understanding death? That’s a whole different waxy ball. Great poems.
random visit, n it’s good.. pretty insightful n nice phrasing.. good..
nice nice
wonderful reads as always! Infinite Blessings
Our neighbor’s father died a couple of days ago. He was elderly, though, and that is not as hard as the death of a child.
My anger is not understood in my family. I went haywire after both my husbands died and after my intended in England I began smoking again after having quit for fifeteen years. It took a year to quit again. Then Sis died and my girls took my anger as being against them and were turned off. I cannot seem to bear it when a loved one dies. I am not angry with God, I am angry for being left behind.
Wow, thanks for your beautiful compliments…
Your first poem hits me in a special place because I lost my brother, and the emotions and thoughts that you describe are those that I have experienced…
Thanks
~J~
loved the first one terry
not quite sure about the second 
but thats just how it takes one..
are you any better?
It is sad…especially when one dies before having the chance to live.
amazing how much about death is out there the last couple days. Is it the solstice coming up? Or does the birth of christ bring on the thoughts of death?
Silly me! My much deeper friend had to explain the end of this poem to me. Beautiful
I LOVE DYLAN THOMAS! ~ if i could be 1/50th as good as he was, i’d be the happiest guy in the world ~ jack
Memorable lines from Dylan Thomas. Remarkable pieces once more.
And thank you for pointing it out kind sir, a youth’s mistake I suppose.
-Saint-
A friend of mine lost a child last year (nine years old, too) and I think you said so much better in those few lines what everyone else, including the priest, tried to say at the time. Thanks.
But it was Saddam Hussein and the United Nations (oil for food scandal) who destroyed Iraq. It was the English, Scots, Welsh and Irish that built America, along with some help from the Poles, French, Germans, Russians and other nationalities that were added into the mix as the emigrated here.
Anyway…. on to more relevant issues.
Both poems are sad. It’s a shame that the good reverand feels that he has to hide his anger from God over the death of one so young. God attends millions of funerals a year, while sharing in the birth of every child delivered every day. We are created in God’s image. If we experience joy and sadness, then how much more fully does He feel these things with us. Bro. Toby, let the anger out. God can handle it.
Jim
Ah…death…
I’ve come to believe our lives are but the wishes of our souls… The challenges we face are just those lessons we came to learn. I believe our deaths are a pre-arranged destiny, made by our individual Selves.
I lost a niece who lived only forty-five minutes. Before I understood death the way I do now, I was so angry…violently shaken. What was the whole point…being born only to die without living? But Leah’s birth…touched us…awakened us…and perhaps that was her whole point, you know?
Of course, the second poem makes me think…”be careful what you wish for…”
Awesome, my Lord…Peace and Love…GFW
Two absolutely beautiful pieces.
merry christmas LORD magi/angel/beckon
Your first poem Thierry asks the deep question . Why the death and principally when this is a young people or a child . Sometime life looks like an absurdity and we wonder the meaning . Even for a believer as me , it is hard and death of our beloved is crual .. So I love your first poem .
About the second I read attentively the Carlo ‘ s comment since I know he is a bird fan . To flight ! The Icare ‘ s dream . But finally this dream has been realised with the planes . Not sure that is so good at any time when this is used for the bombing .
Have a merry Christmas , friend .
Michel
Yes. the loss of a child, or an infant, or even “just” a miscarriage … weighs heavily, and there really is no comfort to be found.
i appreciate all your comments, anytime, anyway
i love these poems…i hope someday i can do half as well…..Happy Christmas!
Donna
the poem about death sounds a bit like you. For some reason, neither of these poems has that passionate quality in my ears that you are so capable of but it might be me. I’m in a blue mood today. I wish the holidays were over already. the hymns and cute songs and all this damned red everywhere… it’s annoying! I’m not a child anymore. And I don’t have children to be able to experience the wonder of Santa Claus through.
Terry, some of the best you have written is here on this page. Amazing stuff, truly amazing.
Becca
It is a waste of young lives I know as one of my grandsons was only 4 when he died of brain cancer just over 3 years ago
Merry xmas Happy New Year 
Hey you, I am back. Thanks to you and the inspiration of the e card you sent, I wrote a little something on my xanga. I hope you have a Merry Christmas.
Marnie
butterflypoet
man… life and death…whats the point of all the judgment its a spontaneous process with a variable ‘play’ length…