When we dead awaken. ... We see that we have never lived.
quote by Henrik Ibsen
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shaken Awake From A Deep Sleep
when falling sands have fallen all
sands of death wait to claim us all
even so we pass as course is plotted
we live we grow we dance then dead
yet that which was dead God can awaken
resurrection awaits from dead all are shaken
wherever you may fall you life is finally taken
angels will journey there Christ will come awaken
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blessed With This Gift
If one makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
With a feeling that expresses a gratefulness,
To experience this gift.
They will see opportunity.
And know to them it has already been given.
If one makes a decision,
Life is to be lived and not taken for granted...
Blessings given will be shared,
If they awaken with thoughts...
To be to others more caring!
If...
And that's not a big 'if' to ponder.
Not to awaken thinking of possibilities!
Or what this day given brings.
If...
One makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
One just has to start,
Realizing each day when they awaken...
They have already been blessed with a gift!
If...
For them that is a decision made,
To see a life that has been given that way...
Fortunes are at their fingertips.
With a pricelessness that enriches.
If one makes a decision,
To awaken seeking ways to appreciate life.
And feeling blessed with this gift.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One mind awake can awaken another, The second awake can awaken their next door brother. Three awake can awaken the town By turning the whole place upside down. Many awake can make such a fuss That they finally awaken the rest of us.
quote by Helen Kromer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If These Times Lived Did Not Exist
May these times lived,
Be those times we now live in...
With the acknowledgement,
That if these times lived did not exist...
There would be no other times like these,
Experienced to say...
They have come to us to be witnessed,
Like this.
To enjoy to disagree in argument.
Or observe the necessity of conflict.
If these times for us lived did not exist...
How many can honestly say,
They awaken each day prepared to resist...
Such a majestic blessing many do not appreciate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lived To Witness
No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.
Each moment I am given to move ahead,
I do!
And those who refuse truth to do as they choose,
Would not improve my outlook.
What will remaining fixed to reminisce prove?
I have no purpose to value or live 'today' as I exist?
No longer do I awaken with questions,
To doubt yesterdays that have gone.
What benefit from this would I get,
If I allowed myself to sit...
And not appreciate each dawn,
Lived to witness that comes along.
My purpose is to live.
Give.
And from the doing of it,
Receive blessings to me that benefit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad of the Dead
Conscious is slowly fading
Darkness is full of loving
Light blinds me from this reality
Let me crawl back to the shadows of serenity
The dance of my fellow comrades
Who lack the respect of the fallen
Death is the lack of demand
Whose names has he written?
I slept within this cavern
I awaken to find nowhere
Who have awaken me from my slumber
The eerie conclusions led you to my chamber.
Skulls ramble on
Continued on with broken jaws
The dance of the no flesh
My sins the dead confess
Dance all around me
Cycle on and on in my head
Drew circles all around me
Chanting the song of the dead
'Arise, arise our fellow comrade'
'War consumed you with it's almighty jaws'
'Take out your anger, you have rose again'
'Breath lithium my friend, death is all you live for'
'Stuck in the lust of mankind'
'Death has now become our brother'
'I shall take back what was mine'
'Lives of the wicked shall we plunder'
'It's about time to die'
I was heavily breathing
I was horribly living
This haste approach to the fade to black
I was awaken to see the ballad of the dead
8/10/12
poem by Elisha De La Rosa
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There Is A Vicariousness Lived
Sometimes when I awaken,
I wish my mind was not so investigative.
But I am too inquisitive,
To assume.
Those who sit and imagine their lives,
And others who are living theirs...
Seem to have so much time,
Not to experience life.
From their lips when in the exchange of gossip...
There is a vicariousness lived to then embellish...
Flowing nonstop to listening ears.
And when I hear this it becomes hard to detect...
What is real and what has been memorized,
From what has been spoken by another...
To then take out of context.
Delusional people can make real their fantasies.
Sometimes when I awaken,
I wish my mind was not so investgative.
But I am too inquisitive,
To assume.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Done Without Instructions
There are those having the most difficult time,
They have ever had to experience in their lives.
And adjusting for them,
Has to be done without instructions.
To awaken and to realize,
A road stubbornly followed...
Has a dead end that surprises,
Is quite traumatic.
Especially when it becomes consciously accepted,
Those who have been denied participation...
For a host of reasons thought to be unethical,
And foolish.
Have them now exposed as fools.
With nothing but walss they have constructed,
To hit their heads against.
To awaken and to realize,
A road stubbornly followed...
Has a dead end that surprises,
Is quite traumatic.
There are those having the most difficult time,
They have ever had to experience in their lives.
And adjusting for them,
Has to be done without instructions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Epitaph
I lived in those times. For a thousand years
I have been dead. Not fallen, but hunted;
When all human decency was imprisoned,
I was free amongst the masked slaves.
I lived in those times, yet I was free.
I watched the river, the earth, the sky,
Turning around me, keeping their balance,
The seasons provided their birds and their honey.
You who live, what have you made of your luck?
Do you regret the time when I struggled?
Have you cultivated for the common harvest?
Have you enriched the town I lived in?
Living men, think nothing of me. I am dead.
Nothing survives of my spirit or my body.
poem by Robert Desnos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode, Written October, 1819, Before The Spaniards Had Recovered Their Liberty
Arise, arise, arise!
There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread;
Be your wounds like eyes
To weep for the dead, the dead, the dead.
What other grief were it just to pay?
Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they;
Who said they were slain on the battle day?
Awaken, awaken, awaken!
The slave and the tyrant are twin-born foes;
Be the cold chains shaken
To the dust where your kindred repose, repose:
Their bones in the grave will start and move,
When they hear the voices of those they love,
Most loud in the holy combat above.
Wave, wave high the banner!
When Freedom is riding to conquest by:
Though the slaves that fan her
Be Famine and Toil, giving sigh for sigh.
And ye who attend her imperial car,
Lift not your hands in the banded war,
But in her defence whose children ye are.
Glory, glory, glory,
To those who have greatly suffered and done!
Never name in story
Was greater than that which ye shall have won.
Conquerors have conquered their foes alone,
Whose revenge, pride, and power they have overthrown
Ride ye, more victorious, over your own.
Bind, bind every brow
With crownals of violet, ivy, and pine:
Hide the blood-stains now
With hues which sweet Nature has made divine:
Green strength, azure hope, and eternity:
But let not the pansy among them be;
Ye were injured, and that means memory.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Song VI: Cherish Life that Abideth
Love is enough: cherish life that abideth,
Lest ye die ere ye know him, and curse and misname him;
For who knows in what ruin of all hope he hideth,
On what wings of the terror of darkness he rideth?
And what is the joy of man's life that ye blame him
For his bliss grown a sword, and his rest grown a fire?
Ye who tremble for death, or the death of desire,
Pass about the cold winter-tide garden and ponder
On the rose in his glory amidst of June's fire,
On the languor of noontide that gathered the thunder,
On the morn and its freshness, the eve and its wonder:
Ye may make it no more--shall Spring come to awaken?
Live on, for Love liveth, and earth shall be shaken
By the wind of his wings on the triumphing morning,
When the dead, and their deeds that die not shall awaken,
And the world's tale shall sound in your trumpet of warning,
And the sun smite the banner called Scorn of the Scorning,
And dead pain ye shall trample, dead fruitless desire,
As ye wend to pluck out the new world from the fire.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother, Waken
Mother awaken,
Look at these days, it’s time for change
Mother awaken,
Let us feel the shake of the earth and of every brush
Mother awaken,
And erupt form your chamber crack up the crust
End the droughts and save those who in you they trust
Seas are becoming barren the land so dry
We welcome your fire days and bow to the night
But can we wait wait wait for you dawn
I see the blend at work with no hand too guide
Mother awaken,
Look at these days, it’s time for change
Mother awaken,
Let us feel the shake of the earth and of every brush
Mother awaken,
And erupt form your chamber crack up the crust
Mothers awaken
Can you feel the shake shake shake
The earth is re-birthing and the lands are becoming new
Unlike the morning the dew is a flood,
Encumbered by love for her she draws an end
To disgusting destruction she made for us
Mother awaken,
Look at these days, it’s time for change
Mother awaken,
Let us feel the shake of the earth and of every brush
Mother awaken,
And erupt form your chamber crack up the crust
Mother Gaia’s show us they way
Close the old doors and rebuild a new day
The earth is growing not in anger but in love
The new days are dawning and although it’s rough
The golden age is nearly here
And I bless you mother I repent for my species given tears
Mother you’ve awoken
The sunlight splits right down my news
And the rapturous noise is a record of harmonic play
Rebuild this place and arise the ones you know will
Keep this place young vibrant and new
With my solemn words I lay myself down to you merciful
And my love is for you
poem by Daniel Richards
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A Problem With Living Too Long
A godlier man, there never lived -
My dear old Uncle Fred,
And throngs should fill the funeral home
When word comes that he's dead.
For the numbers at the funeral home
Are a measure of one's worth;
The sum of all the lives one's touched
While here upon the earth.
But few will visit the funeral home
When my Uncle passes on,
For he's lived so long that those he's touched
Are already dead and gone.
All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What A Life Ive Led
(hicks / lynch)
There never was a man so doggone mean
I wore only black and my eyes were green
And I can tell you now that Im very old
Id kill any man for a piece of gold
Oh what a life Ive led
Ive been a real bad man and I oughta be dead
Oh what a life Ive led
Ive been real mean man, full of cheating and lying
Left a lot of men dead and a lot of girls crying
Yes I did
I rode into dodge on a sunny day
I went there to steal all the railmens pay
And when I left town all the streets ran red
I had ten grand in gold, and three guards lay dead
Chorus
I was a bad man with a heart made of stone
If you were a wise man, you wouldve left me alone
Ive lived all my life, such a lonely one
Just me and my horse and a fine six-gun
Ive lived and Ive loved and I knew great pain
But I know now Id do it over again singing
Chorus x 2
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Resurrected Awaken The Dead...
The resurrected shall awaken the dead
When this time of chaos runs its course
Era of love and peace lay just ahead
The “Law of One” universe doth enforce
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hopefully
When I wrote this...
You weren't ready.
You were still waiting for rainbows,
And clouds with silver lining.
You were defining life,
As I lived it with curiousity!
As I chose adventure...
Over nursury rhymes.
When I wrote this,
I knew better then
What came to me fresh
Was not someone else's collected wishes.
These gifts were mine,
And I wanted to share!
But you were hoping,
Glittering gold dust from the skies
Would pour upon you in buckets.
And wealthy you would live,
In the world to hide.
When I wrote this...then!
I knew when found,
There will be something you will come to confide.
You will awaken to realize fantasy,
As entertainment choking you with lies.
And when I wrote this,
That was true then.
And when you find this to read...
Hopefully your wounds are healing!
Hopefully some reality has been introduced!
Hopefully truth is being induced and not reduced,
By your camouflaging campaigns.
To show how well you can remain disguised!
Why?
When all that you are has been exposed!
And hopefully you will awaken,
With a wish to enhance the life you chose.
Hopefully!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once You Discover That Is True
If you do not awaken...
To make God the priority in your life,
Each day.
Perhaps you are deserving,
Of those burdens you've been served.
If you feel limited by an ego that exists...
Those gifts you have been given,
Go unrecognized.
And your eyes are filled,
With a self centeredness you should resist!
No one says it is easy,
To live a life feeling isolated and alone.
With needs and wishes...
Bombarding with temptations.
No one is suggesting,
Your point of view is not valid.
We all have condoned...
Those situations with conditions,
We have known!
If you do not awaken...
To make God the priority in your life,
Each day.
Perhaps you are deserving,
Of those burdens you've been served.
But this is not the life God wants for you!
Once you discover that is true...
You will awaken to praise His name.
Making that the first thing each day you do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have lived
I have lived through being
Neruda's mermaid, feeling
Every cigarette burn.
I have lived through being
The African Princess,
Where the Prince turned
Back into a Lion.
I have lived through being
A ballerina, dancing gracefully
Upon the stage.
I have lived through trying
To be a poet, but frosted
Out not knowing rules.
I have travelled places
So beautiful, I still go
Back for more, no fool.
But best of all, I can say
I have lived,
Because of you.
poem by Harriet James
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To Sylvia Plath
You had awaken with a burning flame
trying to keep a small universe in your hands
while you turned your eyes to the almighty Father
with words that are unquenchable on paper
you thought about pain, exhaustion.
You had awaken with a burning flame,
to people that did not regard your words
you wanted to give life with all its blemishes,
while you turned your eyes to the almighty Father
until you could not go on anymore
when your courage, your life force started to diminish.
You had awaken with a burning flame,
where you tried to set the fire ablaze again
with nothing further to hold on to
while you turned your eyes to the almighty Father,
you turned your hands to your own life
and it was gone, had vaporise like dew;
you had awaken with a burning flame
while you turned your eyes to the almighty Father.
poem by Gert Strydom
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