Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.
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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
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Die Before You Die
Ironic, but one of the most intimate acts
of our body is
death.
So beautiful appeared my death - knowing who then I would kiss,
I died a thousand times before I died.
"Die before you die," said the Prophet
Muhammad.
Have wings that feared ever
touched the Sun?
I was born when all I once
feared - I could
love.
poem by Rabia al Basri
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Earth Safe
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Death paints darkness at noon
Sun shines sky so bright
Death paints darkness at noon
unkind eyes dark so blind
Volcanoes erupt, whirl winds kill
Towers collapse thousands peril
Terrors kill, humans destroy
Death paints darkness at noon
Earth not feared of death
Rivers flow, Oceans flow
Nature green, universe calm
Earth safe, safer than ever....
September 4,2008
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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Death in us all
Death is always there waiting
for the years, days, and hours
to pass by.
Death is something that
no one can beat.
It will always wins in the end.
Death is not to be feared
because beyond it is
something far greater.
No matter what path we
choose, death will always
be there.
Death is waiting on us all.
poem by Tracey Wynn
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Remember me
Remember me
But do not weep
As you approach
My own grave stone.
For once I lived
and though feared death
Still wrote this dirge
That swims your head.
And though I lay
Below your feet
I am so glad
That we could meet.
That I may speak
As dead men do
Though silently
Right next to you.
And so with these
My final words
I hope that you
Can tell the world
That I once lived
And thought and played
And worried of
My final days
And found no hope
And found no peace
So found no point
To just deceive
But rather say
That though I'm gone
I beg of you
To sing my song
So I may rest
Though not in peace
That someone does
Remember me.
poem by William Blake Beckett
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That's Death
There are bodies laying on the floor
Blood seeping from the room
Covering their wounds
But that’s death
A sound of consequence
Echoing through existence
Finding a deaf ear
But that’s death
People walk away to their lives
Leaving those behind
Forgetting us
But that’s death
We walk the crowded streets
Looking for our salvation
Never getting redemption
But that’s death
A sad existence of life
Once lived vibrantly
Forgotten the same
But that’s death
Twenty-Seven years lived strong
Fighting for what is right
Dying for what is true
But that’s death
poem by C.R. Ebowski
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To They Who Are Hauted By The Spectre Of Death
Do not fear death because death is not to be feared.Death is the bride of every household therefore welcome her with open arms.Death is inevitable therefore do not deny yourself the pleasure of having a nice time while you're still alive.Death is a stage through which all of us must pass.Death is necessary and this old life would be very boring if we would all live forever.Accept the inevitability of death and die gratefully with less worry lines on your death mask, There are no worries in the other world and over there they offer you virgins to pamper you to compensate for your undeserved suffering in this world.Therefore be willing to die young and have a good looking corpse
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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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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Day Of Glory
My only triumph
upon the whole universe
is my death
My only freedom
of thoughts from mind
is my death
My only distinction
from the angels and devils
is my death
My only decision
after all my decisions
is my death
But death is short-lived
and the thing that pleases me
is my death
because i shall live on
poem by Sadistic Wolf
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At a dinner party one should eat wisely but not too well, and talk well but not too wisely.
quote by W. Somerset Maugham
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
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Yet Another Wound
I had died and gone to heaven,
And then fallen from grace.
Death had changed my life forever.
It sure has several shades,
But none of those we're wont to.
What is death but for its manifestations,
Wailing, contorted face muscles and eerie silences?
Death is but another cut on the bloodied body,
No more painful no more powerful.
Only you don’t live to take another.
Men have feared death since Adam died;
They paralyze at the thought of death.
Does death deserve life as its cost?
Can death wipe out life's best?
Is it not an event equalling birth?
Lightly, welcome the relief from evils it brings.
poem by Saju Abraham
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5. Death
He knocks
At the door of Death
Untiringly,
As the one question knocks
Persistently the walls of his living heart.
Death reveals Himself, seven suns later.
Death lives not in Hell, nor Heaven
Nor amid reeking carcass, nor amid purging souls.
No, Death embellishes the throne of his own Empire,
The King of Liberation and the Liberated.
Death is a kindly demigod, radiant and young.
His tongue speaks naught but the truest of the Truth.
Death smiles at the visitor, a human
Clothed in earthliness-a mortal.
The Human bows, and asks
“All conquering, all pervading Lord Death,
I seek answers!
What is Life? ”
“A choice between Good and Comfort.
All that is Good may not be a comfort,
And all Comfort, not always good.
Choose wisely, bravely and
You shall then have lived a life.”
“Then what is Death, What are You? ”
Death laughs.
“A reversal of Life?
The End of all creation?
A New Beginning?
Darkness and Destruction?
What are You, then? ”
Persists his persistence.
Death laughs again.
“I am Change.
I change all that is mortal.
That which is immortal, I cannot touch.
I take the body, the senses, the mind and the intellect
But the Indestructible within all this,
I cannot touch! ”
The mortal bows, his questions answered.
He bows and turns to leave.
But as he turns, one more question tumbles out:
“Can Death be conquered? ”
Death laughes yet again, and says,
“Conquer birth and you conquer Death.”
And closes the door.
poem by Krishnarasa Seshadri
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Life of My Death
My only difference
Between life and afterlife
is my death
My only triumph
upon the whole universe
is my death
My only freedom
of thoughts from mind
is my death
My only distinction
from the angels and devils
is my death
My only decision
after all my decisions
is my death
But death is short-lived
and the thing that pleases me
is my death
Life always presents span
and the shortest spanned
is my death
I can grasp everything
but the thing out of my bounds
is my death...
08-03-2008
poem by Usman Hanif
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The Clock of Life
You fought for my freedom.
I lived like a slave.
You gave your life for me.
So I could be saved.
From a life lived for myself.
More was never enough.
The things I thought made life easier.
But it just made life tough.
Keeping up with the Joneses.
Of my treasures I’d boast.
My material possessions.
Were the things I loved most.
Not the gifts that you lent me.
But the treasures I earned.
Now I see just how Satan.
Wants me to get burned.
Keep your eyes on the prizes.
Let your gifts pay the price.
For all your heart it goes into.
Holds you tight like a vice.
It will squeeze your life from you.
You’ll leave God behind.
You don’t realize that Satan.
Is robbing you blind.
Once he has taken it from you.
He will take your last breath.
And what once was a gift.
Has now become death.
He keeps you in your past.
Makes you think of tomorrow.
And this takes your today.
Time it cannot be borrowed.
For it’s all that you have.
And it is what he will take.
Til your heart is so broken.
That your spirit will break.
Life lived for your body.
Or lived for your mind.
The truths of the earth.
Keeps your spirit confined.
Your love is your time.
Your heart ticks like a clock.
And when it is over.
Your time it will stop.
When it is finished.
When you are gone.
Will your spirit die too.
Or will it live on?
Spend your time very wisely.
And in others invest.
This is what the Lord tells us.
And our Father knows best.
Live your life by your spirit.
Body and mind they will die.
One day they’ll be buried.
But your spirit will fly.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Who goes slowly, goes wisely, and who goes wisely, goes far.
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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Cardinal Bembo's Epitaph on Raphael
Here's one in whom Nature feared--faint at such vying -
Eclipse while he lived, and decease at his dying.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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I gained direct knowledge of the life of the poor in big towns: I have lived the narrowing mechanism of its conditioning and feared it.
quote by Ella Maillart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Into Forensics
Death did not kill them.
The way they lived killed them.
Death just ended it from being prolonged.
And stopping their activities,
To bring them eternal peace.
Experienced by a physical release.
Allowing an entrapped soul to be freed.
Death did not kill them.
The way they lived killed them.
Death just ended it from being prolonged.
Unlike ignorance.
Ignorance commits mass murder on a daily basis.
And gets away with it.
To defend those who become offended...
If they are accused of it.
'AND' their guilt is proven!
You're into forensics.
Figure that one out!
I'm going somewhere to enjoy my divorce.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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