Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing.
quote by Christopher Fry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death Pains
Birth life death
Joy happiness mourning
Unity separation solitude
Ignorance knowledge understanding
Death life then birth
Mourning happiness then joy
Separation solitude then unity
Understanding yields knowledge
And extinguishes the flame of ignorance
Death pains sorrowful
The separation we hate
Understanding the sought out fate
Death pains a lingering task
burns inside like a hot water flask
poem by Mazwi Sedibe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Desire
Resembling a moth around a burning paper
Is how I'm strained to you,
not capable of opposing your charm
There's not anything I can do,
and like that moth who flies too near
And sets its wing on fire,
I find I too have gone too near
because I'm burning with desire.
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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Fighting Death
Death follows birth; does birth follow birth?
Birth to death, journeys have ups and down.
What is the status between death and birth?
Why must you fight death if no-rebirth is bliss?
(15.03.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death As Itself
Blowing in the breeze I saw Death
Upon wing like any other bird
But Death was not sing son
Death sang with a dreadful crow!
Death would perch outside my window waiting
ALWAYS waiting
Waiting outside my window
Though always quiet
As if it were listening for something, someone
then, one day, on the Eve of All Hollows
It left with a great flurry and a TERRIBLE cry
It left
Little did I know that it was I it had been waiting for
and it was I who had left in a flurry and a terrible cry
For I am Death as itself
poem by Samantha Rak
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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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Birth and death
.
Death is certain for birth.
Is birth certain for death?
Post-birth is pre-death.
It is like go around and return.
Post-death is pre-birth.
It is like stay and remain.
Birth and death is better
Than no birth at all
23.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The moth hound
Of a coon hound
you have heard
there's plenty around
i have found
a very strange dog
who's nothing, but a moth hound
when ever, you see
he sees a moth near by
the moth trys to flee,
it isn't no match
as my dog goes after the moth,
and makes a wonderful catch
he eats it all the way
and chews and swallows
he looks at me, now he wants to play
Japan
Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.
It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.
I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.
I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.
I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.
And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.
It's the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,
and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.
When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.
When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.
And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,
and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.
poem by Billy Collins
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Butterfly Darque
Butterfly Darque
==============
Wing And A Prayer,
Two To Soar,
High Above,
Or Way Spirit Down,
Darkest Wing,
A Prayer There Be,
A Solitary Standout,
From The Crowd,
Of Maddening Groupies,
Domination Monarch,
Blackest Wing,
Of Night There Be,
Look-a-like Moth,
Butterfly Wings,
Wonder In Genus...
Soars Like Butterfly!
There Can Be,
A Man You Seek,
Single In Soul,
High Alone,
Low In Spirits,
Flies Up High,
Appears Down Low,
Day Bound Glow,
When As Darque,
Wing To Shed,
Of The Night,
Bound Morose,
Fly Below,
Appear Above,
A Wing And A Prayer...
Soars Like Butterfly!
poem by Ricardo Antunes
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Eve
Simply she stands at the cathedral’s
great ascent, close to the rose window,
with the apple in the apple-pose,
guiltless-guilty once and for all
of the growing she gave birth to
since form the circle of eternities
loving she went forth, top struggle through
her way throughout the earth like a young year.
Ah, gladly yet a little in that land
Would she have lingered, heeding the harmony
And understanding of the animals.
But since she found the man determined,
She went with him, aspiring after death,
And she had as yet hardly known God.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Maturity
Chrysalis to moth
The growth takes a walk
Moth to butterfly
The growth begins to fly
Butterfly to death
The growth withers
Death to immortality
It is freed.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 200708
poem by cyclopseven Ram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To mourn the death?
Leaving home for school is a death.
Leaving school for service is a death.
Retiring from service is a death.
Every parting is a death.
Every meeting is a birth
Every death leads you to a birth.
Every birth leads thus to a death.
As many entrances as there are exits,
Till the arrival of corporal death,
Beyond which we have no evidence
17.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching the Clouds
Watching the clouds go by
Finally understanding that I don't need to
Everything that makes sense
Doesn't
Anything that is wrong
Is right
With every death
Their is birth
With responsibility
Their is blame
In this world is pain
The one who doesn't know pain
Does not know true love
Happiness
Joy
Sadness
Birth
D eath
Greatness
poem by Sarah matthews
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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 And Birth
Death and birth should dwell not near together:
Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
Death and birth.
Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether
Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth:
Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
Death and birth.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Erotomania-A Delusion of Love
A moth or an innocent boy
Or incessantly talking toy
Caught helplessly
In a nature’s ploy:
Thought flame loves me
Thought dame thinks of me
Thought ma’am cares for me.
All the while
The flame
with a flickering smile
burning in a opaque
lamp of guile
with a global
all devouring vision
and feeding with oil of treason
Saw a moth adamant on
self sacrificing mission
The hypnotized moth
went near
a flame with glee
and made love making
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah.
Flame knew moth had
Erotomania- A delusion of love
Soon he would be devoured
As hyena devours dove
Then,
Alluring flame-an enticing threat
Beckoned him for a embraced great
Then licking the moth with
A tongue of death
She sucked away
His laboring breath.
Lo! Comes
One more moth
on the trot,
Attired in a martyr’s coat,
Burning in a heartrending
passions hot,
Bubbling like a
love stewed broth;
Trying to cross
A death filled moat
In a love tiled
porous boat,
While vainly trying
to remain afloat
The hypnotized moth
went near
the flame with glee
and made love making's
earnest plea
And the cunning flame
Gladly reply
Yeah!
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
11/12/2008
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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the moth
so riotious
now so quiet
i look into its wing
and meditate
tanka by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Storm, A Brainstorm
look at the window
something lingers on there
this sadness
so clear to me now
the snowy land, the roofs of houses
covered by this certain coldness
this sadness
in my mind
look at the window
a snowstorm is coming
and i wil be here in the hiding
on some confusion
i will stay
and look out the window still
and impulse comes
a solution
this darkness
this death of beliefs
this death of beliefs in the humanity of other people
this
this death, this idea of death
it is not a lovely day for me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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