To politicize a man's tragic death is about as low as you can go, isn't it?
quote by Tucker Carlson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Branded
Tragic is the self misplaced.
Tragic is a lost identity...
And no familiarity on anyone's face.
Tragic in denial
Sits the misfits feeling on trial
For lives lived reeking and stinking of bile.
Tragic for them,
Love is not recognized at all...
Nor suitable to start,
From a place within them that begins.
And this becomes tragic for those
Unlike them but comprehending,
These tragedies
May not always be self inflicted...
As they are branded!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Death of death
Death died death
A tragic death of unusual death
Cemetery moaned, howled and wept alone
Its tears all over the ground
Death! Its sole hunter and soul provider
Graveyard's convulsion of shame
As if death was new
Death was old had to die too
Nothing last forever
There was nothing new
Clouds gathered but never rained
No rain wanted to clean the blood on death
The unusual act of death
Even birds of the feather fights each other
Death died, all were dazed for death of death
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya

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It is a common mistake these days to politicize anything and everything, including music.
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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We must continue to have voting rights in the state, not to politicize this, but they must have a voice in the rebuilding effort in the community from which they have been displaced.
quote by Marc Morial

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

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Recovering From a Dose of Hypnosis
They wish not to politicize their mess.
Although each step taken,
To get them where they are...
Was done through a vote of confidence!
They sought and won.
But now they want to abandon,
Because of the things they've done.
To themselves and everyone.
For fear their greed and corruption,
Will be deemed disloyal and unpatriotic.
By those recovering from a dose of hypnosis.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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

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Justice For Prejudice?
Since your tragic death and dones.
Nothing seems,
To have changed.
The twisted bitter lies;
Just seem to carry on.
This awful thorn of disguise.
Thwarting the strong,
In the eyes.
The young they scream, they die.
I watch their parent mourn.
A thing i can't explain.
But grieve it to my grave.
I've taste the bitter truth,
The tragic slaps of rain.
I said i can't explain.
The british justice way.
They loose the slaves in chains.
But made us slaves with brain.
I have two words to say.
About the justice game.
As i would define;
The tragic charms of lies.
Justice for the rich.
Prejudice for the poor.
poem by Prince Salamaveli

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Reality
Tragic youth was looking young and sexy
The tragic youth was wearing tattered black jeans
Bearing arms and flaunting all her mischief
The tragic youth was going down on me
And I swear
Woo hoo
Yes I swear
I built a wall of sound to separate us
And hid among the junk of wretched highs
I sped from Planet X to Planet Alpha
Struggling for reality
Ha ha ha ha
Woo hoo
Ha ha ha ha
Whoo hoo
Hey, now my sight is failing in this twilight
Da da da da da da da da da
Now my death is more than just a sad song
Da da da da da da da da da
And I swear
Woo hoo
Yes I swear
Woo hoo
I still don't remember how this happened
I still don't get the wherefores and the whys
I look for sense but I get next to nothing
Hey boy welcome to reality
Ha ha ha ha
Woo hoo
I've been right and I've been wrong
Now I'm back where I started from
Never looked over reality's shoulder
Ha ha ha ha
Huh ha ha ha
Woo hoo
Huh ha ha
Wooh
Woo hoo
Wooh
song performed by by David Bowie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The City Sings the Song of Death
The City sings the song of Death
Death that roams in the streets
Fearless and merciless, its hands smeared with blood
Its clothes drenched, its desire insatiable
It yearns for more bodies, for more and more
And yet more
The City sings the song of Death
A song whose tragic pitch would scare of birds
Were they to listen to its harrowing cadence
A song that makes babies cry and disturbs the old
A song that is sung by every one who lives in the city of Death
In fear, in pain, in terror
For Death itself has come to life
For Death itself, unchained and unchecked, roams around freely
Who shall now question Death?
The City sings the song of Death
My City sings the song of Death
I too sing the song of Death
And so do the millions that live with me
In the City of Death
poem by Abdul Samad

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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

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R.K. On Death
Take death for example.
A great deal of our effort goes into avoiding it.
We make extraordinary efforts to delay it,
and often consider its intrusion as
a tragic event. Yet we'd find it hard to
live without it. Death gives meaning
to our lives; it gives importance and
value to time. Time would become
meaningless if there were too much of it.
If death were indefinitely put off, the human
psyche would end up well, like the gambler in
the Twilight Zone episode.
song performed by by Our Lady Peace

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What then is tragedy? In the Elizabethan period it was assumed that a play ending in death was a tragedy, but in recent years we have come to understand that to live on is sometimes far more tragic than death.
quote by George P. Baker

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Chemical Warfare
Tragic minds are terrified
Life as if a grave
Silent death marks high and full
The wings of revelation
Haunting death from chemicals
Errant is as one
Annihilation must be swift
The soil with our destruction
Counts on the throne must be watching from Hell
Waiting no bastion of side
Soldiers defeated by death with the spell
Bodies lie dormant
song performed by by Slayer from Haunting The Chapel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The death of my daughter is a subject I talk about briefly because there is nothing more tragic.
quote by Ben Vereen

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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

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I'd be interested in finding out if there is a light you walk into, and if you do meet people from your life and walk hand in hand with Jesus. I would hate for my death to be tragic: I'd like to be old when it happens. But hopefully a young death is unlikely.
quote by Brian Molko

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death;' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'
quote by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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