David Jones was the best poet I ever knew and I knew some great ones. He was teacher at the college with me was a student favorite. He was the best in everything artistic, winner of poetry prizes and awards. Clever, witty, wise, and hilariously funny. My condolences to his sister–whom I wish I could give them in person.
The news of this death almost seven years ago has only recently reached me, and sent me back to letters, poems and essays which I’ve saved from David. They are as wonderful as I remember them — and demonstrate the brillance of his intellect, his tremendous talent as a poet, his incisive analysis and penetrating insight into literature, life and people — and his beauty of soul. I rfemember once writing to him, “I dance with you and am held by an angel.” There was always something ethereal about David. He was a dear friend, and we were close for nay years, even after my move to New Mexico. Just how we slipped away from each other, I don’t know, but I have always held him as a dear, dear friend, a unique and very special person. He wrote to me, on the loss of my brother and his wife in an automobile accident, : survive the hunger, you will remember it less than the banquet that came before it . . .For the table of the past is perfect — full to overflowing and replenishing itself. And this is the Moment of the Moveable Feast: Take . . . eat all of it.” and so now I feast from David’s banquet of words and from my beautiful memeories of him, which I will cherish forever.
The news of this death almost seven years ago has only recently reached me, and sent me back to letters, poems and essays which I’ve saved from David. They are as wonderful as I remember them — and demonstrate the brillance of his intellect, his tremendous talent as a poet, his incisive analysis and penetrating insight into literature, life and people — and his beauty of soul. I remember once writing to him, “I dance with you and am held by an angel.” There was always something ethereal about David. He was a dear friend, and we were close for nay years, even after my move to New Mexico. Just how we slipped away from each other, I don’t know, but I have always held him as a dear, dear friend, a unique and very special person. He wrote to me, on the loss of my brother and his wife in an automobile accident: “surviving the hunger, you will remember it less than the banquet that came before it . . .For the table of the past is perfect — full to overflowing and replenishing itself. And this is the Moment of the Moveable Feast: Take . . . eat all of it.” and so now I feast from David’s banquet of words and from my beautiful memories of him, which I will cherish forever.
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Excellent customer service, they made you feel like you were their only customer. Very helpful and explained what we should expect during the process. They basically took care of our needs during this time. They contacted DFW National Cemetery for us which made it a smooth experience. Definitely will use them again.
4 replies on “Jones, David L.”
David Jones was the best poet I ever knew and I knew some great ones. He was teacher at the college with me was a student favorite. He was the best in everything artistic, winner of poetry prizes and awards. Clever, witty, wise, and hilariously funny. My condolences to his sister–whom I wish I could give them in person.
thank you for this opportunity
The news of this death almost seven years ago has only recently reached me, and sent me back to letters, poems and essays which I’ve saved from David. They are as wonderful as I remember them — and demonstrate the brillance of his intellect, his tremendous talent as a poet, his incisive analysis and penetrating insight into literature, life and people — and his beauty of soul. I rfemember once writing to him, “I dance with you and am held by an angel.” There was always something ethereal about David. He was a dear friend, and we were close for nay years, even after my move to New Mexico. Just how we slipped away from each other, I don’t know, but I have always held him as a dear, dear friend, a unique and very special person. He wrote to me, on the loss of my brother and his wife in an automobile accident, : survive the hunger, you will remember it less than the banquet that came before it . . .For the table of the past is perfect — full to overflowing and replenishing itself. And this is the Moment of the Moveable Feast: Take . . . eat all of it.” and so now I feast from David’s banquet of words and from my beautiful memeories of him, which I will cherish forever.
The news of this death almost seven years ago has only recently reached me, and sent me back to letters, poems and essays which I’ve saved from David. They are as wonderful as I remember them — and demonstrate the brillance of his intellect, his tremendous talent as a poet, his incisive analysis and penetrating insight into literature, life and people — and his beauty of soul. I remember once writing to him, “I dance with you and am held by an angel.” There was always something ethereal about David. He was a dear friend, and we were close for nay years, even after my move to New Mexico. Just how we slipped away from each other, I don’t know, but I have always held him as a dear, dear friend, a unique and very special person. He wrote to me, on the loss of my brother and his wife in an automobile accident: “surviving the hunger, you will remember it less than the banquet that came before it . . .For the table of the past is perfect — full to overflowing and replenishing itself. And this is the Moment of the Moveable Feast: Take . . . eat all of it.” and so now I feast from David’s banquet of words and from my beautiful memories of him, which I will cherish forever.