A corpse is meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.
quote by James Joyce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk.
quote by James Joyce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A walking corpse
I walk around like a zombie.
A reflection of a corpse.
Like Im in a body thats not mine.
A body depression has invaded.
Im a reflection of a corpse.
So numb and dead inside.
Not being able to feel.
Trapped in a body.
That once used to be mine.
Now its like its someone elses.
Im a walking corpse.
So very dead inside.
As numb as numb
Number than Ice.
Depression has over road.
And overtaken me.
Its made me like a walking corpse.
I may aswell be dead.
Thats how I feel inside.
A excellent resembalence
Of a walking corpse.
Mabey I can fight it
But that I very much doubt.
I have had to fight to many demons.
One more I cant fight this yet.
Im a walking corpse.
Dead inside.
A marvolos resembalence.
Of a walking corpse
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Behnd the Wall of Sleep/Wasp
Precious cups within the flower
deadly petals with strange power
faces shine a deadly smile
back up on you at your trial
Chill and numbs from head to toe
icy sun with frosty glow
Why'd you go reaching your sorrow?
why'd you go read no tomorrow
Feel your spirit rise with the priest
feel your body falling to its knees
Take your walk of remorse
take your body to a corpse
take your body to a corpse
take your body to a corpse
if you want all remorse
take your body to a corpse
Now from darkness
song performed by by Black Sabbath from Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The corpse [Cadavrul]
The corpse is lying on the bed,
Immersed in gloom it does appear,
Because bewitched by other sphere
The soul divine abruptly fled.
And the quick mind inside the head
Has fully stopped to interfere,
The corpse is lying on the bed,
Immersed in gloom it does appear.
Repulsive, heavy as the lead,
And its appearance fair and clear,
Which used to spread a perfume dear,
Today is nothing but a shred...
The corpse is lying on the bed.
poem by Cincinat Pavelescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Religious Nature
Why do you sleep when time has finished,
And cheese is a food for the sheep to make,
For the cheese asyouknow can bind you;
For cheese is recommended more than milk
And milk is what religion transmitted and given,
To forget and forgive the children say milk will be given,
As religion will thrive as regions of life can gain heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Behind The Wall Of Sleep
Precious cups within the flower
Deadly petals with strange power
Faces shine a deadly smile
Back up on you at your trial
Chill and numbs from head to toe
Icy sun with frosty glow
Whyd you go reaching your sorrow?
Whyd you go read no tomorrow
Feel your spirit rise with the priest
Feel your body falling to its knees
Take your walk of remorse
Take your body to a corpse
Take your body to a corpse
Take your body to a corpse
If you want all remorse
Take your body to a corpse
Now from darkness, there springs light
Wall of sleep is cold and bright
Wall of sleep is lying broken
Sun shines in, you are awoken
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What the Chinese Would Say behind the Japs
they think they are greater
but look they use our characters
to write their own names, their own names! ! !
taking our lamps, our light to brighten up their own houses,
civilisation, their own souls,
originality, creativity thrown to the winds
and they talk about intelligence with us
these half schooled barbarians
who once ransacked our survival
waylaid our pride, like how Rome tore down
the Temple of Jerusalem, the Germans
exterminated the Jews............
the disciples who learnt morals only to sidetrack
their masters, our philosophers, to bury their corpses
in their gardens, flowers grown over them
but a corpse is a corpse! ! !
behind the beauty of everything Japanese
is but a corpse that each of them tries desperately to hide
the very thing that explains the obsession with cleanliness
but a corpse is a corpse
it is unpleasant and lives on
in the japanese mind to disturb them
if they let it hide in their soul
without proper atonement
and adherence to the master's teachings
rain, storm and earthquake would destroy the blooms
and expose the skeletons below them
the skeletons that refuse to be whitewashed
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living Corpse
propulsion often decays into nothing
but stagnancy, the visit of eternity
next erupts to tranquillise my flesh
raising me from the ground
and my corpse jumps
and my corpse curses the prison
once more the ripping
fits the feet and the well-being
I am ransacked tonight.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loss of history
Loss of memory leaves one a corpse.
Loss of history of one’s ancestors
Or the ignorance of it by one leaves
One a corpse bereft of identity.
26.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Under This Heat
This heat, this heat is penetrating the joints and meat
Of my corpse, later to have risen for some blind life ahead of me.
I am forgotten by most, resurrection is no crime,
Follies abound inside my soul, that readily is devoured
Like a zombie has fright, so much fright that it angers.
Vampires shall arrive for the fights, of a lifetime,
Answerable to God, for the religion is wrong, and you are wrong,
Forgetting me as I speak, launching a party of the crudeness
One asks for in the middle of the night, the night of hatred.
My corpse collapses halfway between life and death,
The death is not sudden, and the life is not exact,
Instead the ruination is within me, I am of the Undead!
poem by Naveed Akram
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Man is not whole, sans woman
Body sans soul is a corpse.
Soul sans body is ether.
Man is the corpse.
Woman is the soul.
Both together make life.
The corpse deteriorates.
But the ether exists.
Sans woman, man decays;
Sans man, woman stays.
Woman qua volunteer to Gandhiji,
woman qua adopted daughter to A.B. Vajpoyee,
woman qua daughter to Pandit Nshru
lent to respective men the soul.
26.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autopsy and the Corpse
Coroner: This is very complicating and in the whole body music runs and
It takes couple of years to diagnose.
Corpse: It doesn't make any difference dear officer just sign and give so and
so died as the others.
Coroner: It's really difficult as the corpse still speaking and the music goes on
never stops it seems?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Facts About Cheese
When the price of cheese was so low a few years ago that the
dairymen seriously thought of giving up the manufacture
of cheese and of selling their cows, we published the fol-
lowing lines and distributed them by the thousand :
Price soon will rise, though now 'tis low,
And brooks of milk will onward flow ;
Were it collected in one stream
There would be floods of milk and cream.
Mr. T. D. Millar has just secured, Sept., 1884, the first prize for cheese at the great
cheese fair at Amsterdam, Holland. They weighed over 600 pounds each, and were
manufactured by the Burnside Factory of Dorchester. The Galloway Factory is manufacturing
several cheese weighing one ton each. The mammoth cheese, alluded to in cheese ode,
was manufactured by Mr. James Harris, Ingersoll Factory. The Dnnn Cheese Factory, North
Oxford, secured first prize at the great Centennial Exhibition, but where all factories
produce such excellent cheese perhaps it would be making invidious distinctions to specify
the honours won by any particular factory. The West Oxford Company have recently built a
fine factory on the Culloden Road.
poem by James McIntyre
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The Bellman
BRING out your dead before you reap
From lips beloved infection dread;
Above such brows ye dare not weep!
Bring out your dead
Into the street from breast or bed,
Lest ye too sicken into sleep
That recks not of the Bellman's tread.
Thrice foolish heart! Why do you heap
Corpse upon corpse--conspire to spread
Corruption on all else you keep?
Bring out your dead!
poem by Muriel Stuart
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Sexual Attraction
At the hospital where he works.
Speaking he can convey,
with the ninety two year old corpse.
Mirrors every where warm trees cold bushes.
92 leaves speaking she shakes it only for him.
Bony old woman no ham.
After finding the light corpse
he checks the cotton on the rigid smile if it was.
Ninety two years old where you are detained.
You can hear the limbs cracking as the corpse gives.
Turned over on it's belly I seem like observer.
There is no sound commonly appreciated with sucking noises.
It was the very first time,
I had ever seen a shoe horn used on the moon.
Except for the golf swing by Shepard.
Brutal crimes on the dead better I think than on the living, still.
The family has a long history of patients and of those.
Emphatic and it has resonated a cord completely.
Watching him talk as if and it is somber fearfully.
You read to late it written before he came a dying declaration.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Highly Valued Objects
The highness of an object resides in its lustre,
Demanding traits are discarded, like silk.
Interiors of the organs of a body are of the corpse,
Relishing nothing for nobody, and nobody else.
Then the disease of the heart enters the calm,
Fostering new teachings for everybody, and unique too.
Let the praise of heaven be our neighbour,
Insert the eye of sheep in the dishes.
A dish is a dish, a body is a corpse
But a cadaver in secret, an excellency.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghost-Cycle
They argue and fight over dead bones,
One of them is a skull making him ill.
There is utter disbelief, just decaying bones
Ready for burial like no other corpse.
Some say it will grow and inhibit us
By rejecting our ways and entering our affairs.
Some say we see and hear everything it says,
But the deceit is maximum, all the time
That we find it invisible from some satanic source.
Since the universe follows laws too special
It, the corpse, betrays us and its task
To fail as bones and so it goes on in the cycle.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knock Em Dead (live)
This basket arrives to show your condolence
You hope that it finds me well and just in time
This loss was unbearable, but now I have flowers
Thoughtful happy bright arrangement
I can fall into...
Just a corpse in his place,
You only have one shot to knock 'em dead
A toast to the way he left us counting our blessings
And holding our heads...
You better speak up, you better say something
We better believe ourselves for once
'cause you never said help
You never said anything the way that we dreamed ourselves to fear
It's only in this silence
I can hear ethan screaming
all alone, all alone...
Just a corpse in his place
You only have one shot to knock 'em dead
A toast to the way he left us counting our blessings
and holding our heads...
Just a corpse in his place
You only have one shot to knock 'em dead
And I would have thought that I had more to lose than him
My skin has gone stark white and an ash covers my skin
I should have worn makeup
It seems to have worked for you
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Weaponry
The real nature of a weapon, the real sort of prize,
Is its joy of presentation to the other half.
One man is incredible for joking about death,
The real bomb awaits the people to matter.
One sword is not two storms of death,
But ten innocent dead men, who simply have deceased.
Seize and rock him about with hands and feet,
The body shall become a corpse, a harvest of a kind
Is gathered, the corpse then uncovered,
For all to really matter.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To Cheese
☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.
Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.