
A trench is a half-finished tomb.
aphorism by Hasier Agirre, translated by Dan Costinaş

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Once they're lost
Old books piled
every dusty room
notebooks scattered
on every stack.
Some full others not
just gathering poems
on pages most bad
a few worth typing.
Can't find half finished sonnet
start throwing
filled notebooks in boxes
as they fill
put in garage
a couple years before rereading.
Only then will half-finished poem
let itself be found,
muse playing games.
poem by David Howerton

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The Trench
It was once assumed
We stood at the same spot
By and by
The earth caved in
Surreptitiously
And there emerged
A widening trench
We now stand
A trench apart
The trench patiently gathers
All the emotions slipped into it
In the nights it sings
To wake me up
The open space echoes
With the ballads sung
To bring a smile or two
On my damp cheeks…
Wipes away my cheek
As it goes on singing
All that it gathers
From the passers-by
I smile
But somehow
There’s some difference!
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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The Teachers Are Afraid Of The Pupils
Theres too many people
Planning your downfall
When your spirits on trial
These nights can be frightening
Sleep transports sadness
To some other mid-brain
And somebody here
Will not be here next year
So you stand by the board
Full of fear and intention
And, if you think that theyre listening
Well, youve got to be joking
Oh, you understand change
And you think its essential
But when your profession
Is humiliation
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
Mucus on your collar
A nail up through the staff chair
A blade in your soap
And you cry into your pillow
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Say the wrong word to our children ...
Well have you, oh yes, well have you
Lay a hand on our children
And its never too late to have you
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
To be finished would be a relief
Im very glad the spring has come
The sun shines out so bright
All the birds that are on the trees
Are singing for delight
song performed by by Morrissey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Finished
“It is finished” as Christ was done, were the words of God’s Own Son.
It was finished and some knew that Christ had died for me and you.
He was born the man Jesus Christ, for He was to be God’s Sacrifice.
Jesus was the name given Him as He’d save His people from their sin.
Christ was the name of God’s Son, as He was The Lord’s Anointed One.
Thinking they were done with Him, the people only added to their sin.
But Christ would not be denied, even though they pierced His side.
They had Him then sealed in a tomb, which only added to their doom.
In the ground as the scripture said, for three days amongst the dead.
But The Lord God was not done, for the grave could not hold His Son.
On the third day to much surprise, The Lord from the tomb would rise.
The stone of the tomb was rolled away, for He was not there to stay.
For the temple that He did raise, was His body to The Father’s praise.
And Jesus did just what He said, as He raised his body from the dead.
He was dead, but is now alive, and He is seated at His Father’s side.
This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that for us He became a sacrifice.
On the cross He bore the sins of all to redeem man from Adam’s fall.
Christ tasted death for you and me, so we could live through eternity.
Believe that for you Christ died and you my friend will be justified.
And confess your Lord is Jesus Christ and you will have Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©10/2004)
Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
These Men
Men moving in a trench, in the clear noon,
Whetting their steel within the crumbling earth;
Men, moving in a trench ‘neath a new moon
That smiles with a slit mouth and has no mirth;
Men moving in a trench in the grey morn,
Lifting bodies on their clotted frames:
Men with narrow mouths thin-carved in scorn
That twist and fumble strangely at dead names.
These men know life – know death a little more.
These men see paths and ends, and see
Beyond some swinging open door
Into eternity.
poem by Leon Gellert

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Are My Poems Finished/ And I Finished With Them?
ARE MY POEMS FINISHED/ AND I FINISHED WITH THEM?
Are my poems finished
And I finished with them?
Each day has a beauty of its own
Light, wind, trees, colors, flowers.
All I see
The cracks in the grey pavement before me.
The cool cool wind at my back
The prayer ahead.
Even this poem is not properly finished
And I a fool racing and rushing
Through another
Again and again and again.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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0272 Somme Day
Looks like being a fine day; how red
the poppies in the sunlight.
The whistles blow.
From the now almost home of the slit trench
Over the Top, boys! This is it!
Soon back. The slit trench
is blessedly quieter now
in its six feet.
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Half Finished No More
hands feverish aching to form
chords that resound
the rythym in my loins
born in the words I sing
half finished songs
conceived in mad frenzy
imploring me to complete or
abort this rush of thought
but the feelings remain
like cold puddles in the rain
splashing and rippling my insides
until the storm subsides
the bridge that ties
all the feelings that bind
repeating chorus and rising cresendo
to each alone the lyric is blind
cascading like a wave
crashing upon the shore
libido swirling like a violent eddy until
half finished no more
poem by keith Durante

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Hearthside
Half across the world from me
Lie the lands I'll never see-
I, whose longing lives and dies
Where a ship has sailed away;
I, that never close my eyes
But to look upon Cathay.
Things I may not know nor tell
Wait, where older waters swell;
Ways that flowered at Sappho's tread,
Winds that sighed in Homer's strings,
Vibrant with the singing dead,
Golden with the dust of wings.
Under deeper skies than mine,
Quiet valleys dip and shine.
Where their tender grasses heal
Ancient scars of trench and tomb
I shall never walk: nor kneel
Where the bones of poets bloom.
If I seek a lovelier part,
Where I travel goes my heart;
Where I stray my thought must go;
With me wanders my desire.
Best to sit and watch the snow,
Turn the lock, and poke the fire.
poem by Dorothy Parker

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The programme has ended, something has finished, and he has a sense of something having finished its course, and then all of a sudden he turns away and this other thing has just finished its course, this other person.
quote by Atom Egoyan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trench charge
Firing from his hip he was running,
with the light machinegun kicking
dressed in a brown army uniform
running towards a trench
while bullets whistled, swished past him
with some kicking up dust around him
and like a machine functioning
at perfect speed and timing
he lobbed a grenade
somewhat like a cricket ball
but with a deadly sting
into the trench
before dropping behind a small stone wall
waiting for the explosive cracking sound
giving instructions with hand signs
to the troops that followed him
and when it came
he let of a few bursts
with the light machinegun
on its folded out stand
before half-terrified, filled with adrenaline
he started running again
with his troops following him,
shooting from the hip
and at the enemy trench
jumps straight in
spraying soldiers dressed in olive green
with flaming hot bullets,
smelling the fumes of cordite,
mixed with sand and death
with every breath burning
in his chest and throat
without time to really think,
just to comprehend
and to react, noting dust flying
from the wall next to his head
were passing enemy bullets were slamming.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Begin - to begin is half the work, let half still remain; again begin this, and thou wilt have finished.
quote by Marcus Aurelius

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Begin -- to begin is half the work, let half still remain; again begin this, and thou wilt have finished.
A painting that is well composed is half finished.
quote by Pierre Bonnard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dead Dont Cry
the dead dont cry,
they weep...
for the undone deeds
of the living...
for the work not finished,
the cup left half-empty,
the song that no one heard.
for the deaf ears,
and the blinded eyes.
for the callous heart,
the spirit left in chains.
for the house half finished,
and the home abandoned.
for the love left holding
the purse, and the scar!
for the holy child
born out of wedlock...
for the table left empty,
the chairs that long and pine.
for the touch that failed,
the quivering lip unseen.
for the pot left empty,
and the fire untended.
for the bodies walking
who have no face...
for the latched door,
and the candle unlit...
the dead dont cry,
they weep...
and the sound of their weeping
shakes the earth!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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There is nothing so fatal to character as half finished tasks.
quote by David Lloyd George

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've written a couple screenplays and half-finished plays.
quote by Christopher Meloni

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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