Death Poems

Members' own poetry, paintings, crafts, songs, musical compositions, etc.
User avatar
Posts: 1514
Joined: Fri Nov 10, 2017 12:20 am
Location: Southern Arizona desert, USA

Re: Death Poems

Post by desert_woodworker » Wed Dec 04, 2019 1:40 am

Heard a San Francisco hospice fellow M.D. on radio today talking about conversations he's had with people soon to die.

The issue of "fear" was a big one. But, were they (the about-to-die) fearing the experience of dying (and the run-up to it), or "what-may-come-afterwards"?

He's a Doc who has much experience with palliative care, and with pain mitigation. He has reassured patients that, for them, pain might not be an issue at all, before death, because of medications available. And, their spirits could be raised by the same meds, he told them.

This was a Bodhisattva talking. He'd been there. But, even if not. Electrocuted in his 20s, he lost two legs below the knee, and part of an arm.

He went on to become an M.D.

Granted, this is not a "poem", but it is powerful.

Here is the (USA) National Public Radio text introduction to the fellow's interview with radio show host, of the program "Fresh Air', Terry Gross:

"When BJ Miller was a college sophomore he was out late with some friends and climbed onto a parked commuter train. In a freak accident, he was electrocuted and eventually lost both legs below the knee and half of one arm. The experience led him to pursue a career in end-of-life care and palliative medicine, which he describes as "the treatment of suffering." He talks about how he draws inspiration from his disability, and how he helps patients in their final moments. His book is 'A Beginners Guide to the End.' "

And the audio portion can be accessed at the link below: ... -and-death

User avatar
Posts: 368
Joined: Sat Nov 11, 2017 4:31 pm

Re: Death Poems

Post by bokki » Wed Dec 04, 2019 11:46 pm

12 hours ago my second son Joseph (35 yrs) took his own life. He ran free (from the psychiatric hospital in which was in and out of for some years) for the last time. His body is somewhere at the bottom of a river.
My deepest condolences Michael. It grieves me to hear.

A gentle guitar
I hear now.
I will close my eyes.

Metta, Michael.
Another log on the fire,
10,000 frogs singing in the rain,
burst into flames.
- Linda Anderson

Post Reply