David McLansky

Veteran Poet - 1,557 Points [David McLansky] (5/24/1944 / New York City)

David McLansky Poems

321. Max 6/2/2013
322. Memorial Day 5/21/2013
323. Memory Of Eusthacia 2/13/2014
324. Memory Of My Tourist Ward Along Lake Nefooey 6/4/2014
325. Mind Reading 4/15/2014
326. Mix Up At The Mausoleum 5/12/2013
327. Mortals All 9/6/2013
328. Movie Stars 5/29/2014
329. Moving 11/20/2014
330. Moving Toward The Light 8/13/2013
331. My Angel 10/11/2013
332. My Confounding Muse 1/11/2013
333. My Eternal Rest 9/14/2014
334. My Fears 6/14/2014
335. My Good Wife 7/7/2013
336. My Grandaughter 9/9/2015
337. My Irrelevence 4/3/2014
338. My Last Duchess 8/28/2013
339. My Love Dies With Me When I Die 10/3/2013
340. My Many Moods 4/12/2014
341. My Missing Muse 5/24/2013
342. My Old Mentor 2/10/2015
343. My Wall Clock Stopped At Five To Five 10/8/2013
344. Neutron Star 4/8/2014
345. Never Love A Crazy Lady 1/22/2013
346. New Year Wishes 2013 1/1/2013
347. New Years Day 2014 1/6/2014
348. New Year's Toast 2013 5/22/2013
349. Nguyen Chi Thien 1/30/2013
350. Nguyen Chi Thien 2 1/30/2013
351. Night 1/4/2015
352. Night Bird 1/19/2013
353. Night Ledger 6/15/2014
354. Nightly She Sings 7/24/2013
355. Nightmare 7/7/2014
356. North Korea 5/20/2013
357. Ode To Elsie 2/8/2014
358. Odysseus And The Suitors 7/4/2013
359. Odysseus Bound 8/2/2013
360. Oh For A Glass Of Sauterne Wine 2/18/2013
Best Poem of David McLansky

After My Death

No stillness filled the air,
The Nation didn't pause
Speechless with despair;
No limousine procession
Slowly snaked the road,
Winding to the crowded hill
And my last abode;
No local politicians
Recalled the City's loss
No Abbot of the Diocese
Softly kissed his Cross;
No Mayor of the Village
Called me Mankind's Friend,
No speeches intoned over me
Recalling Life at end;
At my empty grave site
Two weeping children stood,
Summarizing all I'd done
And all I ever would.

Read the full of After My Death

Shakespeare In Love

To me my beauty you never shall be old,
Though Time shall scourge your fragile shield of flesh;
I balm those wounds as Time's cruel lash does scold,
And heal his welts, your loveliness refreshed;
For in my love are herbs of powers rare
Restoring as harsh Time does take away,
My eyes, your mirror, chastening your despair,
Reflecting forth you've aged not yet a day;
Take comfort then within this frame of youth:

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