Magnetic Island North Queensland
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A young koala's beach adventure

June 16th 2006
Poem by Angela Cunnane

From the Picnic Bay Jetty Angela Cunnane writes, "Can't say I'm much of a poet really but I was compelled to write this last year after my friend's daughter was killed by a drunk driver. I got sick of people saying she was in a "better place" when all her family and friends wanted was to have her here, not in that better place. I won't be offended if you don't post it." It's OK Angela - it's an interesting idea (Ed.)

















I love selfishly in "my Place"

I think you'd agree that most major religions believe,
That those who are good here on Earth go to a better place.
I have to say though that I selfishly want those I love to stay here,
here in this "my Place"

In "my Place" there are tears and tragedy, fear and pain,
but once again I prefer it for my loved ones than that better place.
In "my Place" those I love could not be loved in any place
as I love them here, where I can see their face, smell their hair
and watch them grow.

So although those we have lost are certainly in a better place,
I wish to God they were here in "my Place"
So we could touch them, smell their hair and watch them grow.
But until we all join those already in that better place,
We bide our time and love those still here,in "my Place"

Because, after all there really is no option,
not whilst there are still those we love here in "my Place"

12/05
Angela Cunnane
Plano,Texas, US


OK, I really am not a total doom and gloom merchant but I only seem able to write poems when I am sad, sorry, I\'ll try and be more upbeat one of these days. Angela Cunnane Plano Texas.

Only if you love me.

Don't ask me how I'm feeling; you really don't want to hear,
About the night terrors that engulf my days.
Don't ask me who I am. you really don't want to know,
About the deep black hole that is me.


Don't look at me and see a woman, a mature woman, a middle aged woman,
See me as I am, my mother's child, God's child, my husband's child.
Don't look at me and see brains, beauty or balls,
See me as I am. Stupid, ugly and weak.
Don't touch me and feel my softness,
It betrays me, I want to be hard.
Don't touch me and walk away,
I need you to stop me falling, out of my life.

Do love me, despite my darkness, my dependence,
my stupidity, my ugliness, my weakness.

Do touch me and feel my softness for you and
hold me to stop me from falling out of your life.

But only if you love me.

Angela 7/06

Dear Ed, just for fun...

I get your emails, you seem like a mate
Magnetic Island, Lord you make it look great
So, if ever I come up on the lotto
And manage not to stay blotto
I'll jump on a plane
Then a ferry I'll claim
And visit Nirvana Down under

Angela 7/06


Poem by Angela Cunnane
 
3 comments
 
Linda Davis
June 26th 2006
Angela, this is a very moving poem -it's moved me to tears. It could be a good antidote to platitudes that plague the bereaved. Thanks.
 
rando wood
July 9th 2006
Angela, I am unashamedly a believer in 'a better place', but, like you, love the here and now the people nearest to me. Strange thought, for what it is worth: As a young boy of nine or ten years, I was present at my grandfather's death. Unlike the adults, I thought 'Oh well, he's died and gone to heaven'. Nine or ten years later my grandmother, 'Nan', died. This was in the UK and I was in Germany at the time. I dropped everything, flew home to fulfill my family obligations, and cried for a week because I missed her so much - and still do. I still dream of her walking up the street or sitting in a chair at my parents' home. I think we cry and miss them for OUR sake. Stuff the 'better place' we say from our own weak, lonely and empty heart! I want my Nan here where I can see, touch, and even smell (most respectfully) for myself. No apologies for being long-winded - the beat of poetry provokes a response. Best regards, Rando Wood.
 
Angela
July 19th 2006
Linda and Rando, thank you for taking the time to comment on my poem.


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