Who is doomed to death will not be cured by medicines either.
Related quotes
The doomed love exists.
A love has its death when it is attained.
A love has no death when it is doomed.
All my loves live; I am doomed.
28.10.2002, Chenn
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gods live in our nerves.
Aching is pain and nuisance
Severity varies in annoyance,
Tooth ache, Head ache, stomach ache,
And Body ache. Do we forget to take,
Medicines for these aches and freaks,
We will be and pain killers we seek,
We may forget to take medicines,
For many disorders in blood and functions,
Which not affect our nerves at once,
But the effects are severe and life threatening,
Without the prescribed medicines,
We may not lead the healthy life,
Take your medicines regularly,
follow the advice of physicians,
For the disorders and diseases,
That we are blessed to have and suffer.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Habits & Infections
Come to me like Im the doctor
Say you need someone to talk ta
You want advice go ask your mother
One bad turn deserves another
cause Ive been cursed with your infection
Makin my head hurt makin my eyes burn
Youve taken me in the wrong direction
And left me there with no protection
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Maybe youll find a friend up in the
Rainbow room
If you can dodge the drinks that
Theyve been throwing at you
Anyway, your boyfriend should be
Coming home soon
Then you can hide your life away
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
I am the doctor
I am the doctor
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Pain, Sign of Human Mortality
Pain pulsates
as the clock tick tocks
Should pain be dependent
on medicines?
And what if medicines
cannot appease
the pulsating pain?
When can every one
be freed from
the malady of pain?
Why is pain made
the sign of the coming end?
Why is there pain
to announce
our mortal human frame?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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universes all creation obeys
except satan demons man
doomed doomed to ego suffer
haiku by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
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Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aircraft Crash: Smashing Finale
in these strange last doomed moments
tubular steel aluminium plummeting
mind may race falling through cloud years
minutes to live out life lived decades
seconds split frozen in turbulence ruptured
time in frozen feed years eclipsed on impact
people get to die among absolute strangers
impacting ending all random seated lives...
together doomed, to death’s last dark, deadly moments
in death, you people may all die fright, screaming together
but you people, resurrected will not be raised, up together
plummeting descending, cut off moments, terminated together
a final fire ball, impact ending all tomb, bound together
but eternity, branches out into individual, extreme contrast
final fate, was never ticket shared compact, eternities differ
for some, a hellish beginning for others, glorious resurrection...
do not believe the lie that in death all lie equal
angels fell impacting earth doomed eternity
seed of Adam Eve some rise supplanting angels
souls created in God’s image share heavenly sphere
horror inevitable death inescapable ending for all
horror seconds plummeting prepare ready or not
horror account settled tallied charge death absolute
not ready to meet your maker fear judgement coming...?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.
quote by Andre Breton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hold On
I was doomed riding on top a black horse.
Whatever prize there was I could only observe where the troubles starts.
Where does it end?
I cannot be cured...mmm...but if...
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on.
Gave her life away. Put it in my pocket when it should've been framed.
Oh lost it's shine. Gotta' get this out of my head, out of my head.
How could it end...end like this?
I could've been...
I know life would be different had I held on, held on.
I know I could've been something had I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on, held on.
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
Held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on.
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Punishment
There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.
Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.
And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?
And will He care...?
'Tis down to Him.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Of Hope
I feel like such a dope.
Cringing from the desparity of all these folk.
I know it's lost.
Yet I try to fit the cost.
In the role of loser I am cast.
The death of hope comes like a blast.
It impales me to the last.
I've tried so hard.
Now I play my final card.
It will not work. I have no doubt.
Though I have to try and reach out.
If it fails then it is true.
From the start I have been doomed.
It's the death of hope, for a dope.
Always finding a way to choke.
It's almost over, the time has passed.
As have my pride and sense of class.
It's the death of hope.
The end of life.
Goodbye now I'll say goodnight.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Doctor's Story
Good folks ever will have their way
Good folks ever for it must pay.
But we, who are here and everywhere,
The burden of their faults must bear.
We must shoulder others' shame,
Fight their follies, and take their blame:
Purge the body, and humor the mind;
Doctor the eyes when the soul is blind;
Build the column of health erect
On the quicksands of neglect:
Always shouldering others' shame-
Bearing their faults and taking the blame!
Deacon Rogers, he came to me;
"Wife is a-goin' to die," said he.
'Doctors great, an' doctors small,
Haven't improved her any at all.
'Physic and blister, powders and pills,
And nothing sure but the doctors' bills!
"Twenty women, with remedies new,
Bother my wife the whole day through.
'Sweet as honey, or bitter as gall
Poor old woman, she takes 'em all.
'Sour or sweet, whatever they choose;
Poor old woman, she daren't refuse.
'So she pleases whoe'er may call,
An' Death is suited the best of all.
'Physic and blister, powder an' pill
Bound to conquer, and sure to kill!"
Mrs. Rogers lay in her bed,
Bandaged and blistered from foot to head.
Blistered and bandaged from head to toe,
Mrs. Rogers was very low.
Bottle and saucer, spoon and cup,
On the table stood bravely up;
Physics of high and low degree;
Calomel, catnip, boneset tea;
Everything a body could bear,
Excepting light and water and air.
I opened the blinds; the day was bright,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some light.
I opened the window; the day was fair,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some air.
Bottles and blisters, powders and pills,
Catnip, boneset, sirups and squills;
Drugs and medicines, high and low,
I threw them as far as I could throw.
"What are you doing?" my patient cried;
"Frightening Death," I coolly replied.
"You are crazy!" a visitor said:
I flung a bottle at his head.
Deacon Rogers he came to me,
'Wife is a-gettin' her health," said he.
"I really think she will worry through;
She scolds me just as she used to do.
'All the people have poohed an' slurred,
All the neighbors have had their word;
"'Twere better to perish, some of 'em say,
Than be cured in such an irregular way."
"Your wife," said I, "had God's good care,
And His remedies, light and water and air.
"All of the doctors, beyond a doubt,
Couldn't have cured Mrs. Rogers without.'
Tle deacon smiled and bowed his head;
Then your bill is nothing," he said.
"God's be the glory, as you sayl
God bless you, Doctor! Good day! Good day!"
If ever I doctor that woman again,
I'll give her medicine made by men.
poem by Will Carleton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death, Death And Death
I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.
I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.
I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The slave is doomed to worship time and fate and death, because they are greater than anything he finds in himself, and because all his thoughts are of things which they devour.
quote by Bertrand Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was going home
When I was going home
the darkness was around,
nobody on the street, indeed.
I saw an old woman,
she was a dandelion like, .
she rummaged in the refuse bins
which were all alike.
She was the one who's got her pension
'in the proportion with her job'.
I wouldn't like here to mention
that she was just robbed.
She bought the medicines
had not enough for food,
she bought the food
had not enough for medicines.
...And close to the refuse bins
there was a stall
and boxes with the fruit were near by.
'It looks you're pushed of money'-
she heard the voice.
'take some from here,
it's much better choice.'
She smiled sadly and
I've heard her answer:
'Can't take anothers'.
And with those words
she slowly moved......
to another refuse bin.
I saw that scene.
I began to cry
and I know why.
I was delighted with her greatness,
I was ashamed of my carefree life;
and if I were her I wouldn't decline.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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