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Nobody ever forgets where he buried the hatchet.
quote by Kin Hubbard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twisted Hatchet Suicide
This Twisted Hatchet Killer
Is gonna make a 'Suicide' thriller
A (fd up) messes up life
She sliced her throat
With a knife
A twisted hatchet suicide
Players pushing all along
Hoping she'd choose
To be the one gone
So she left you a present
For you to feel some pain
All you see is her blood stains
Nothing left
Nothing remains
In this twisted hatchet suicide
You can always read this poem on line
I hope you're doing well
Because 'finally' I'm doing fine
I was a Twisted Hatchet 'Suicide'! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Teresa Duncan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They have buried the hatchet, but not before carefully wrapping it up.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hatchet in the mouth is more harmful than a hatchet in the hand.
Learn Something New
O dark man, learn something new,
so that hatchet can be buried by you!
O darkman, love the true meaning of love,
Just not to unnerve others nerve.
Eighteen or twenty eight,
I don't know what will, come and go with it,
without good deed, what's the profit?
Mouth is not the open-manhole,
By which a guy, may rotten his soul.
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The War Game
I am buried by time,
I am buried by love;
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.
I am buried by the heat,
I am buried by the cold,
I am buried by the wings of nature!
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.
Keep talking it,
Keep saying it,
Keep doing it,
Keep walking it,
Keep dancing it,
Keep swinging it,
Keep climbing it,
Keep trying it,
Keep asking it,
Keep working it,
Keep moving it,
Keep flying it,
Keep acting it,
All in the time frame to be buried;
Like the War Game in Afghanistan.
Buried under the nature of things,
With bombs exploding from left and right;
Like a message from Herat in Afghanistan.
The War Game,
All in a time frame to be buried;
Keep rolling it,
Keep changing it,
Keep trading it,
Keep building it,
Keep covering it,
Keep painting it,
Keep writing it,
Keep blocking it,
Keep cookin it,
Keep posting it,
Keep accepting it,
Keep driving it,
Keep bombing it,
Keep squeezing it,
Like the war game in Afghanistan.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Children Look At The Parents
We being so hidden from those who
Have quietly borne and fed us,
How can we answer civilly
Their innocent invitations?
How can we say "we see you
As but-for-God's-grace-ourselves, as
Our caricatures (we yours), with
Time's telescope between us"?
How can we say "you presumed on
The accident of kinship,
Assumed our friendship coatlike,
Not as a badge one fights for"?
How say "and you remembered
The sins of our outlived selves and
Your own forgiveness, buried
The hatchet to slow music;
Shared money but not your secrets;
Will leave as your final legacy
A box double-locked by the spider
Packed with your unsolved problems"?
How say all this without capitals,
Italics, anger or pathos,
To those who have seen from the womb come
Enemies? How not say it?
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Father Buried My Sister........Today
My father buried my sister today
My soul burns red with pain
No longer will I touch her face
Or caress her skin again
My father buried my sister today
God, what have I done wrong
To have her stolen from my arms
When my faith in you was strong
My father buried my sister today
Thank God I have another
I couldn't walk this path alone
Every breath is a struggle
My father buried my sister today
She was just 20
Searing, ripping, tearing ache
My emotions overcome me
To God above, how I pray
These words by her not repeated
My father buried my daughter today
poem by Pritisha Sardesai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love For You
you buried something
deep,
in fact deeper than burying
someone
who died nine days ago,
since you want to forget
and forget
this forever, something that
you lost and would want it lost
and not want
to recover
from a distance i look at you
and shed tears for
what you buried
without much pomp of a ceremony
i pity
what cruelty you have to yourself
i bring a flower
for that which was buried and lost
it is something that i always
cherish and
remember with all the gladness of my heart
with all the gentleness of my soul
my love for you
deep in the layers of time
buried
still blooms
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To lend your hatchet and get your forest cut down.
Buried in the Sunset
Sun is crawling down
I wait for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Im still alive here
Still waiting for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Days are passing by
Its getting hard to breathe
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
I faked my death
since i felt a threat
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Now real death is drawing near
as the sun breaks the new dawn
but Im no longer waiting for you
I sacrificed,
Two yards under
I buried myself in the sunset
- FaraM Siddiqui
poem by FaraM Siddiqui
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To remove a fly from a friend's forehead never use a hatchet.
Do not use a hatchet to remove a fly from your friend's forehead.
When the tree is down every one runs to it with a hatchet to cut wood.
Do not remove a fly from your friend's forehead with a hatchet.
When the tree is fallen, every one goeth to it with his hatchet.