When you're invited, eat heartily, because if they like you they'll laugh, and if they don't like you they'll feel the pangs of death.
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The Heart Whispered
The heart whispered,
After the intensity
Of the pangs would reduce,
I would write the verse;
After the bewildering horror
Of death would decrease,
I would write the verse:
The intensity
Of the pangs does not reduce;
The bewildering horror
Of death does not decrease.
The wailing, the bawling,
The crying, the mourning,
Do not let heartily sleep,
Do not let heartily weep.
Then after
Cheerful sleep and weeping deep,
I shall write the verse.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Not Forget
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world
and my hands grow full with the daily profits,
let me ever feel that I have gained nothing
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting,
when I spread my bed low in the dust,
let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me
---let me not forget a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound
and the laughter there is loud,
let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Tomorrow I will be Happy
Small child dressed shabbily,
His eyes dusty, hair shaggy.
'When I will grow big,
I would have sweets many,
I would play throughout the day,
And would be free from elder's tyranny,
Tomorrow I will be happy.”
Hearing, HITESH laugh heartily.
Schoolboy donning dress neatly,
His eyes sleepy, hair curly.
'When I will grow big,
I will see movies many,
I will roam throughout day,
And would be free from teacher's tyranny,
Tomorrow I will be happy.”
Hearing, HITESH laugh heartily.
Teenager sporting T-shirt trendy,
His eyes dreamy, hair lengthy.
'As I have grown big,
I would have girl friends many,
Soon completing boring study,
Would earn early and marry promptly.'
Tomorrow I will be happy,
Hearing HITESH laugh heartily.
Worried man wearing suit perfectly,
His hair receding, eyes weary.
'Soon my son will grow up,
After completely his costly study
Would earn dough plenty,
And fulfilled dreams many.'
Tomorrow I will be happy,
Hearing HITESH laugh heartily.
Old man wearing clothes dirty,
His vision dimly, hair hoary.
'Now I have grown old,
Fate has made joke cruelly,
Soon completing life sickly,
Will die and free from misery.'
In next life I will be happy,
Hearing HITESH WEEP heartily.
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Squeal
I can't begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it
So now that it is all out
How do you feel - did you profit
Why can't you keep a secret
Why'd you squeal
I thought that I could trust you
Why'd you squeal
I thought we had agreed
That we were in this together
But now that you have betrayed me
I got no other option
Why can't you keep a secret
Why'd you squeal
I thought that it was private
It's a tea party and you're all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
You can always smell a stinkin' tattletale
Come out of a shell I think so they can break the link
When everyone knows it squeals and that is just as well
A kiss of death goes out to those who rat and fink
Why'd you squeal
But I can't begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it - hey
Why can't you keep a secret
Why'd you squeal
I thought that I could trust you
Why'd you squeal
It's a tea party and you're all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
You dirty rat
I can't begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it - hey
So now that it is all out
How do you feel - did you profit - hey
Well tell me all the gossip
Why'd you squeal
I hear the leaky faucet
It's a tea party and you're all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
Kill the narc who wrote it and said it
Who's the narc who wrote it and said it
song performed by by No Doubt from Beacon Street Collection
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning to Die
Death is not sudden, death does not grieve,
Death takes a while to achieve.
Death comes in layers;
Death is the mouse
From under the couch
At three am, and from under the stairs.
Death is the tumour on my mother’s skin,
Death is a jackhammer pounding in.
Death is a scrabbling crab on all fours,
Death is a jaguar on rough padded paws,
Lurking in the oven doors,
And hiding in the bureau drawers.
Death is the lump within my breast,
Death is the invited dinner guest.
Death is the cadaver,
A slab of cold meat
That lies on a plate.
Death is the wall of frozen sleet.
Death to me comes much too late.
poem by Caroline Misner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma, I Never Knew You
I never knew you
You are my grandmother.
I get mad at God
For not giving me a chance
To know you.
You died ten years
Before I was born.
It breaks my heart
Every time I think
That I will never get
The chance to know you.
I look at your picture that hangs
Almost everyday.
I wonder if I have your eyes.
I wonder if I have your laugh.
I wonder if I have your smile.
I wonder if I have your nose.
I wonder if I have anything of you.
I guess I will never know
I guess I will never get to see you.
Death is the most tragic thing in life
Death is hard on me now than I was younger.
Death is what I have inside
Thinking of everyone that I have lost.
Death is forever
Death is longer than an eternity
Death is permanent
Death is a scar that never goes away.
Death is what I feel everyday
Death is what has to be.
Death is what is happening everyday.
Death is what no one knows for sure.
Death is what everyone goes through.
Death is the reason why I am the way I am
Death is what I fear…
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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Death Shall Not
Death, they say
will take everyone away
but there are things it could never take
even if life was at stake
death shall not remove your laugh which still rings in my ears
death shall not erase your face with your smiles and your tears
death shall not take those years
death shall not cut off those endless walks
death shall not wipe out those honest talks
those shy looks it could not steal
only god knows how i feel
god, sorry those words are fake
but my sorrow is your mistake
well, who am i fooling
death has taken everything from me
since it has taken you
For these things surely remain
But somehow i know they will never happen again.
Squeal
I cant begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it
So now that it is all out
How do you feel - did you profit
Why cant you keep a secret
Whyd you squeal
I thought that I could trust you
Whyd you squeal
I thought we had agreed
That we were in this together
But now that you have betrayed me
I got no other option
Why cant you keep a secret
Whyd you squeal
I thought that it was private
Its a tea party and youre all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
You can always smell a stinkin tattletale
Come out of a shell I think so they can break the link
When everyone knows it squeals and that is just as well
A kiss of death goes out to those who rat and fink
Whyd you squeal
But I cant begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it - hey
Why cant you keep a secret
Whyd you squeal
I thought that I could trust you
Whyd you squeal
Its a tea party and youre all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
You dirty rat
I cant begin to tell you
How bad I feel about it
So now that it is all out
How do you feel - did you profit
Well tell me all the gossip
Whyd you squeal
I hear the leaky faucet
Its a tea party and youre all invited
To kill the narc who wrote it and said it
Kill the narc who wrote it and said it
Whos the narc who wrote it and said it
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Effects Of A Secret Leaks
The effects of a secret leaks.
And those trusted with it,
Claim to now feel threatened?
By what?
Their guilt?
If a secret leaks to achieve the expected...
Why would those unknown,
To have kept the secret...
Between themselves,
Feel 'now' their identities will be exposed?
To who, what or whom?
If a mission successfully has been accomplished...
Only those chosen,
Should be invited to celebrate the outcome.
Unless some are feeling slighted,
Because they weren't invited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the highest type of men hear Tao,
They diligently practice it.
When the average type of men hear Tao,
They half believe in it.
When the lowest type of men hear Tao,
They laugh heartily at it.
Without the laugh, there is no Tao.
quote by Lao-tzu, The Way of Lao-tzu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Juana's Sestina
October came like a bandit who stole
every prayer saved in our afternoons of grief,
beside her empty bed and crucifix
where she once joked, holding her Bible,
of Christ lighting Judas's ass on fire.
They were friends now and she had been invited
to see this, as told in my dream, invited
me, but mother woke me before Death stole
me, almost gone into the sinner's fire.
But Grandmother Juana gone this October grief
would have saved me I know with her Bible
near bed, radio sermon and crucifix,
Would have joked of how she snuck the crucifix
away from church friends she hadn't invited,
to exchange gossip as they kissed her Bible,
the way words caress bloody Death who stole
our every prayer saved in our afternoons of grief,
laughing aloud of that dreamy fire,
that brash tail of a kite, high and afire,
and hovering above like a crucifix,
its childlike frame torn in the wind of grief:
how she flew and how we fly, she invited
me above our house one October that stole
our love, investing it into her Bible
that loves no blashphemy for the Bible
adores least those living in the Lake of Fire.
October came like a bandit who stole
Mami, our Juana, leaving her crucifix,
together in a dream where she invited
me to the sky where rain fell hard like grief.
And I awoke secretly with this grief
Kept like a tomb in my chest for her Bible,
our rosaries, yet she wanted me invited
to see Christ lighting Judas's ass on fire,
a party where they carry a crucifix
every October for sinners who stole,
including Death, who took her into that fire
to burn her small sins before Heaven invited
her, that eloquent joker, dead this October.
poem by Marina Gipps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXII: Laugh
there's laugh, forced laugh
laugh, gentle rejection without word
laugh, looking sympathy with laugh
laugh but actually doesn't laugh
hiding anger, hiding pain
cheerful laugh but alone inside
why you try hard to impress people?
tired and wounded more
laughing your foolish joke
and crying life in the dark room
laugh for yourself
laugh with your heart
and you'll never regret to try an honest laugh
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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How Your Love Makes Me Feel
(max t. barnes/trey bruce)
Im no poet and I know it
I dont use five dollar words
This might not sound like much compared to all the pretty things youve heard
But heres how Id explain it since you brought it up
It wont sound like anybody elses version of love
Its like just before dark
Jump in the car
Buy an ice cream and see how far we can drive before it melts kinda feelin
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Theres a cow in the road and you swerve to the left
Fate skips a beat and it scares you to death and you laugh until you cry
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
It might not be more suitable for greeting cards and such
But its a true and honest feeling and if you feel it half as much
We could go through life together without a worry or a care
Knowing deep down in our hearts that weve got something special here
Its like just before dark
Jump in the car
Buy an ice cream and see how far we can drive before it melts kinda feelin
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Theres a cow in the road and you swerve to the left
Fate skips a beat and it scares you to death and you laugh until you cry
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Thats how your love makes me feel
I have always heard you cant put love into words
Its like just before dark
Jump in the car
Buy an ice cream and see how far we can drive before it melts kinda feelin
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Theres a cow in the road and you swerve to the left
Fate skips a beat and it scares you to death and you laugh until you cry
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Thats how your love makes me feel inside
Thats how I feel
Thats how your love makes me feel
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Do I Feel Death So Near?
Why do I feel death so near?
Even as I hold my love so dear
I live in a world that’s filled with fear
So do the rest of us as I hear
Why do I feel death so close?
As I live in a state repose
Even when the light shines so gross
There is a shadow moving close
Why do I feel death so nigh?
Even when my heart is so high
With my love in my arms in by and by
A looming death draws by and I sigh
Why do I feel death is imminent?
Even as my love is penultimate
Treating as a constituent
Death do come so relevant
Why do I feel death so bore?
Maybe because it is at my door
poem by Alex Fischer
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Sad
There's a sudden sadness in the air.
I can feel it everywhere.
It is all around,
Weighing me down.
it just won't go away.
I don't know what kind of sick game it is trying to play.
I want no part of it,
But it won't let me quit.
It keeps holding on
When all I want is for it to be gone.
I want to ba happy again,
To laugh and have fun with my friends.
I want my laugh to be real.
I want to laugh because that's what I feel.
I'm done with feeling this bad.
I am so sick of being sad.
poem by Ashley Reese
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In daily dying to ourselves
In daily dying to ourselves
As we pain
Each day, each minute,
We get used to dying
And every death that comes
Close to our skins
Whichever is it
As there are many of them
At the end
Not a death that comes
Really matters.
And so the stress is gone
In fact, we start to welcome
It like a guest,
The invited one, we even
Ask it to stay
And be home with us.
Little deaths here and there
Each is real, nothing frightens anymore.
And death becomes
So boring so common so tiny to tinker
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Suicidal Thoughts
I rock back and forth as
momentum rushes through me
so many options so many chooses
oh the pleasure of death
how to go how to go
painless but there is no joy in that
pain filled oh yes feel the cord
around my neck tighten up
as i get ready to pop
or burn in the infinite flames of hell
yea and feel pain like nothing before
to escape this world
is my goal
no longer do i hang on
so i'll turn my back to the angel of death
this is my kill you don't get to have this one
i'll take the pleasure for myself
i'll end my own life whiles you watch
knowing this one escaped you
hahaha
i laugh at you for this one was to great for you
as my eyes close up
i feel the life slow draining
out of this carcass
tell me do you wanna feel my joy
ohhh such great joy
losing it as i laugh insanely
so many options to try
so many ways to go
its a pleasure i get to experience
ohhh six slips yea on each risk
pull the trigger and get the pleasure
but to quick
dismemberment, .. slow and pain filled yea
you will love it,
over dose sit and lose it
as i feel all the pain from before
in this one little bottle of pills
so marvelous so joyful
which way to go
hahahahahah
which way to go
poem by Robert Roberts
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IF You Wish To See Me Be Submissive
Never did I ask,
For an acceptance of my honesty.
When you invited me to pay a visit...
I insisted to forward my résumé.
But noooo...
You said you wanted me to feel at home.
In an environment I would find simple,
Relaxed and nontaxing in conversation.
Something familiar...
That would not threaten me,
With a discomfort.
And I took you up on your invitation.
And I feel as if I've become challenged.
Remember...
You invited me over for an evening of relaxation.
Why after beating you in the playing of chess,
Scrabble and discussing everything from politics...
Cooking, sports, religion, proper diet, exercise
Mediation and quoting from Biblical scriptures...
You want to box?
I think that is totally ridiculous.
I can think of other ways,
You can prove to me your dominance.
Yes, I too can box.
However...
If you want to impress me by knocking me out.
I can only think of one way you can do that.
And I need not have to show you my jab!
IF you wish to see me be submissive...
All you have to do is ask!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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