tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post8532210470482610985..comments2024-03-01T18:15:29.198-08:00Comments on BikeWalkBakeBarb: Rage, rage against the dying of the light: Phrases not to use in my obituaryBarb Chamberlainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post-5319749255451650672010-01-23T19:32:35.337-08:002010-01-23T19:32:35.337-08:00Rest in peace, Christianne. http://www.legacy.com/...Rest in peace, Christianne. http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/spokesman/obituary.aspx?page=notice&pid=138799081Barb Chamberlainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post-58453103812591674792010-01-18T21:39:40.797-08:002010-01-18T21:39:40.797-08:00OK, now this is from me:
Okay, peeps, go find me ...OK, now this is from me:<br /><br />Okay, peeps, go find me some better poems! I actually really like Crossing the Bar too:<br /><br />Sunset and evening star,<br />And one clear call for me!<br />And may there be no moaning of the bar,<br />When I put out to sea,<br />But such a tide as moving seems asleep,<br />Too full for sound and foam,<br />When that which drew from out the boundless deep<br />Turns again home.<br /><br />By Alfred Lord TennysonBarb Chamberlainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post-78358808856398178142010-01-18T21:39:17.966-08:002010-01-18T21:39:17.966-08:00Comment received via Facebook:
When I teach litera...Comment received via Facebook:<br />When I teach literature, I always make a big deal about the poem I hate the most is Do Not Go Gentle...why? because it has the narrator telling his dad how to die. as though it is HIS business. really, don't get me started on that poem :)Barb Chamberlainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post-5208721177961861662010-01-18T21:39:00.007-08:002010-01-18T21:39:00.007-08:00Comment received via Facebook:
Love your blog post...Comment received via Facebook:<br />Love your blog post, and similarly desire that no euphemism be used to note my death. I intend to write my own, but it's easy to put that off. <br /><br />It's interesting that both poems in the post reflect traditional western notions of death: Dylan Thomas - "though wise men at their end know dark is right," nonetheless wants us to fight against it as though it's a battle to be won; Mary Frye - though her sentiment is beautifully expressed, is essentially saying "I'm not really dead, I will live on some how".Barb Chamberlainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155965142976731610.post-19907787300669986952010-01-18T21:38:39.559-08:002010-01-18T21:38:39.559-08:00Comment received via Facebook:
I have had the plea...Comment received via Facebook:<br />I have had the pleasure, the task, the agony of writing a whole family's obituaries - I am the last of my generation and we unfortunately took the zero population growth serioiusly. No kids to protect through careful language. I gave some suggestions to my executor about what to say about me. I want people to recognize that I am an actual human who has died. My lovely mother said, when you are dead you are dead. I hope that I live so long that no one reading this has reason to know. But I think it could say something like this..<br />overly serious elderly artist interested in growing her own corn maze dies from too much aliterative language, asthma, and cat hair inhaltion in her home in Spokane while waiting for her ballot by mail and her recent order of books from the MOMA bookstore....Barb Chamberlainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09000768706045663322noreply@blogger.com