He ‘lived his life on his own terms’ *
So brilliant was his mind – a latter-day genius,
So successful, so rich, the world’s adulation received he,
But he could not control his pancreas,
Neither could the best doctors in the world.
He died young – in his fifties.
Why? Why? When the poor and the needy sick
are still alive at eighties and nineties?
*S.T. A12. 8/10/2011. RIP Steve Jobs
comments welcome
Hi Jasmine,
Another insightful poem from our SHC poetess, an apt and fitting tribute to a mastermind who gave so much joyful fruit (Apple & its products) to the world in his shortened life.
Thank you Jasmine…
RIP Steve Jobs…
Jonathan
Hi Jasmine, you inspired me to add these to your poem for Steve Jobs :
Bowed not to his circumstances, at Birth
Always unconventional, at Business
Disclosing not his health, even at death’s Brink
In assets, ever so Wealthy
In tasks, never complained Weary
In social, always acted Winsome
My first humble attempt & open to your comments,
LS
Hi Lydia
Your 2 verses would be a suitable eulogy or epitaph for late SJ. I like the ‘alliteration’: the “B” words and the “W” words.
Hope to see more poems from you. :)
Keep them coming ladies!
Jasmine, want you to know I’ve always enjoyed the poetic you.
Lydia, discovering yet another side of you. Certainly, a more meaningful contribution. Think you know what I mean….
What about another alliteration poem with letters “S” and “J”?
Didn’t have much of an impression until his illness was announced and somehow I now feel a great man has been lost.
Hi Jonathan, Lydia, Daisy
Am glad you like the poem “Life’s Little Mysteries”. If you enjoy poetry, you might want to read “A Poison Tree” by William Blake. If you haven’t come across this little poem before, i’m sure you would find it delightful.
Cheers :)
Jassmine, the poem to share with all:
A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.
William Blake
Read the analysis and would like to share the last sentence:
“In this simple but powerful poem, William Blake describes how a feeling of anger, which soon disappears if there is good will and friendship.”
Nite nite you guys and gals. Tomorrow is a new day.
WISDOM
Does not come naturally
Naturally, we are born to learn
Learn that we may grow
Grow not just in knowledge
Knowledge can always be acquired
Acquired wisdom does not accompany age
Age-old adage it seems, Wisdom is actually Grace.