
I've looked that old scoundrel death in the eye many times but this time I think he has me on the ropes.
quote by Douglas MacArthur

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coming Off The Ropes
I'm coming off the ropes
(he's going down)
He thinks I'm beat
I'm coming off the ropes yea
This ain't no retreat
He thinks I'm going down
For sure my head is spinning round
When I straighten up
But I'm going to knock him off his feet!
(Wow suckerpunch!
I'm coming off the ropes
(he's going down)
Yes I'm coming off the ropes
I'm coming off the ropes
He made me angry now
I only need to straighten up
I'm going to show him how
I can hear someone count to ten
Seems like a lifetime,
But I'll tell you when
I know I'm safe down here
So till then, must have been
a lucky swing
Two years ago,
I would have not let him in
I'm coming off the ropes
(he's going down)
song performed by by Chris Rea

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are no morals in politics; there is only expedience. A scoundrel may be of use to us just because he is a scoundrel.
quote by Vladimir Lenin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A rich man is either a scoundrel or the heir of a scoundrel.
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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If Heaven had looked upon riches to be a valuable thing, it would not have given them to such a scoundrel.
quote by Jonathan Swift

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A child who does not think about what happens around him and is content with living without wondering whether he lives honestly is like a man who lives from a scoundrel's work and is on the road to being a scoundrel.
quote by Jose Marti

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart

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We're just Puppets to the invisible hands!
We smile as he pulls the ropes
Attached to our facial muscles.
In the same way we cry!
Oceans are around but we cannot taste
A dropp of water.
Sky is high and instead of wings
Only the feeble hands.
No solace at all and only in the burial grounds
We rest in peace to our own consent
As he has taken back our ropes
And no more movements!
* Truth is bitter like the bedridden man who swallows an elixir to get rid of steely death!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Night Close
Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned -
No one cried or mourned.
Scorned by all
- My fellow race -
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.
Line of Death
death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Scoundrel Days
Was that somebody screaming...
It wasnt me for sure
I lift my head up from uneasy
Pillows
Put my feet on the floor
Cut my wrist on a bad thought
And head for the door
Outside on the pavement
The dark makes no noise
I can feel the sweat on my lips
Leaking into my mouth
Im heading out for the steep hills
Theyre leaving me no choice
And see...as our lives are in the making
We believe through the lies and the hating
That love goes free
For want of an option
I run the wind round
I dream pictures of houses burning
Never knowing nothing else to do
With death comes the morning
Unannounced and new
Was it too much to ask for
To pull a little weight...
They forgive anything but greatness
These are scoundrel days
And Im close to calling out their names
As pride hits my face
See...as our lives are in the making
We believe through their lies and the hating
That love goes free through
Scoundrel days
I reach the edge of town
Ive got blood in my hair
Their hands touch my body
From everywhere
But I know that Ive made it
As I run into the air
And see...as our lives are in the making
We believe through the lies and the hating
That love goes free
Through scoundrel days
song performed by by A-Ha

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Suspected
There will be a time when it will end.
Be it parting
Be it death
So each passing minute with you
Pendulummed with sadness.
So many times
I looked long into your face.
I could hear the clock ticking.
poem by Spike Milligan

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Half-closed Lids
This nothingness was overwhelming.
When words fail to tell the facts,
only silence talks.
That brutal interrogation of self
to undo the decline, like a
a viper in your home.
The mortgaged glow of stoned infant
in the exiled land, brings
the exodus of shrunken legs.
A shadow survives on the debris
of frozen voices,
sluicing through the cries.
Open the stitches of night.
Death was skirting the prison.
No ropes. No ropes.
poem by Satish Verma

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I was tortured fifteen times, that's total submission. They did that with shutting off your blood circulation with ropes, giving you claustrophobia and pain at the same time, bending you double.
quote by James Stockdale

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can we Heal?
I looked in the eyes of
Death and felt remorse.
I looked in the eyes of
Death and saw peace
I felt the hand of death
And hated
I held the body of death
And redeemed myself naked
Oh death, the unanswered
Question.
The fear of many, the
Fear of none.
Why do we live?
Why do we live? If
Not for death.
To my son brent. I miss you
poem by Gangsta Sta

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I stared into death eyes
i woke up this morning and
i stared into Death eyes.
Death was amazing
he was wearing his black hoodie
and his skeleton bones were red.
Death held up a picture of you
and a picture of me.
i stared into Death eyes.
Death stuck the pictures together
and made them become one.
oh, how i stared into Death eyes.
Death did something to me
he stuck his hand out
i grabbed it and we took a walk.
it was a walk in the park
and then i seen you and there was me
we were married, you wonder how i know,
because i had the prettiest rock on my finger.
we were sitting on a bench
watching 3 little kids
playing on the playground
but then i look closely.
the little girl had eyes like mine
the complextion like mine and ears like you
the boys were twins and they looked exactly like you.
then i thought about it
those are our kids
then i stared into Death eyes.
i ask Death is this reality
Death stops me from breathing
and say suicide is not the answer.
i began to feel wozzy
as if Death was taking all my sins
and all my pain away and repeats
his self 3 times.
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
suicide is not the answer
and then i wake up
realizing that it was just a dream
a dream indeed.
now i know what it feels like
to stare into the eyes of Death.
now i know that my time wasnt
supposed to end back then,
my time ends with you.
-La'Veranique
*aka* dat girl nickey
poem by Nickey Mason

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The Robes Which Bind
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed and old
the are made filthy and washed by rain
the storms of times passing
the knots like fists cling tightly
while cracks and holes do nothing
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed
weathered, worn, abused and cut
still, still they hold on regardless
like an indomitable spirit
those fist knots, those woven strands
anchor the soul to the earth
as though life itself depends
the day, the night the heavens above
names of faultless graces written
upon the fabricated strands
perhaps those of the fates themselves
the ropes which bind the human soul
to the mortal earth are frayed and old
but still, still they hold
poem by Matthew Holloway

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There Are Times When I Am Not Afraid To Die
There are times when I am not afraid to die-
But sometimes I am so afraid I frighten myself -
And other times when I don’t know exactly what I feel
Not to speak of the times I try to deny to myself,
When I somehow wish I was out of it and it was over already-
We live in these complexities and contradictions of feelings within ourselves-
Not only about Death but about so much else in life-
I am not afraid of anything now
But now I am writing and not really thinking about anything
But this poem-
Give me a little time-
I will be afraid so afraid of death I will be ashamed to tell you about it.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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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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x15-I Saw My Death
-Jane Spencers-
My grave has kept away my secrets.
The leaves are greener, the grasses-taller.
I heard you talking to me
with your solemn tears...
you didn't have to say you're sorry
for taking away my cheers;
for taking away my lover...
for making it all over.
Coz it's not the reason why i died...
as this empty earth has always denied.
The petals had fallen, the waters had flowed...
leaves are greener, grasses standing on the ground.
I saw my death when I saw his face-
how it glowed when he looked at you deeply;
he looked at you the way he never did to me.
I saw my death when I saw his smile-
he smiled beyond his heart when
he smiled at you sweetly...
He smiled at you the way he never did to me.
I saw my death when he looked into my eyes,
and all i can see is my empty grave,
and all others are lies.
When he looked at me, but it's you he sees...
I never want to breath.
The day he said he loves you
was the day I saw my death.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar

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He Cried
I need you
Simple words
But words which had never been heard
By the soul
Stoned to death
But still living
And so he froze where he stood
And he looked to the ground
And he cried
He cried
Ride our minds
If you must
But theres always a line you dont cross
Time is short
Dont be cruel
Oh you dont know the power
In what youre saying
Oh ...
And so he froze where he stood
And he looked to the ground
And he cried
He cried
People where
I come from
They survive without feelings or blood
I never could
Was stoned to death
But Im still living
So he froze where he stood
And he looked to the ground
And he cried
He cried
So he froze
And he looked, and he looked
To the ground
And he cried
He cried
song performed by by Morrissey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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