Whatever your life's work is, do it well. A man should do his job so well that the living, the dead, and the unborn could do it no better.
quote by Martin Luther King, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead
WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD
When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-
When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?
When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-
When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-
When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy
When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.
When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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History is a pact between the dead, the living, and the yet unborn.
quote by Edmund Burke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead End Street
Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hectic Day
Work is inevitable
Work is accumulative
Work is strenuous
Work is living
A good work represents a good life
A well lived life is a balance
A balance between work & play
Is a life worth living!
Thus it begins my enthusiasm
For compilation of workloads
To be effective & efficient
To complete it I shall stop
Writing this poem!
poem by Jeline Loh
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An Unborn Poem
An unborn poem
Is perhaps a poetic reverie.
Sure it is, but I must say
Another poem
Has been conceived by me
It is yet to be penned down though.
It needs a pen that will never dry up
And the readers who will turn grey haired never.
Sure it is, and I must say
Within me living on
Is a poem superseding my others
Yet unborn after conception!
Certain poems are so, dear ones.
Between their conception and birth often
Scores of months entwine us the mothers to-be.
An unborn poem never dies.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Unborn Son
Flickered souls and eyes are gazing
Peering at the unborn son, behold
The things that demote a man
To begging with his knees upon the floor:
The beauty of nature walked to graze
As though the trees reach down to touch
The rays of sun that spreads the horizon
Like open arms to his unborn son;
A fire burning remiss amongst the whole
And shards fall out of the sky like bombs,
To hear the horrified warmth within
Like the unheard cry of his unborn son;
A perfect sunset bled to sleep,
The sandman pours his livestock onto heads
That need the hope and prayers of slumber
Like closing the eyes of his unborn son;
A speed of blasts and colors,
Engines roar still from the haunting motion
To have caused the crash to kill them both
Like the feeling he gets from his unborn son.
poem by Christopher's Dead
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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Lap Of Luxury
I work all day and I work all night 4x
I work all day and I work all night
I work so my wife and kids will have a pleasant life
I work as many jobs as I can
Im proud to work I guess Im just a working man
-who am I to complain
I live in the lap of luxury
I got a car and a big tv thats so fine
I go to the pictures when I can
-the pictures take me to far-away lands
-almost makes me forget who I am
Sometimes at work Ive a fantasy
That Im a man who livesa life of mystery
(but) then the whistle brings me to
I cant forget why Im here, Ive got a job to do
-responsibility- is much more important to a man like me
I work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night - etc. etc.
Guitar solo
I got a job at the factory
But I dont mind cause I know that the job is right for me
I dont complain Im satisfied
And I dont care to rub elbows with the wealthy
Theyve got their problems too, I dont envy them a bit dont ya know
Im doin what I want and it aint so bas
Ive got everything that a man could have
(Im) living in the lap of luxury - living in the lap of luxury
Work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night etc. etc.
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abortions Isn’t Health-care
Must one kill children healthy, hale,
If contraceptives were to fail?
Must parents murder children own,
And make the Maker Himself frown?
You need not protect unborn’s health,
But stop the gruesome killings stealth!
No human heart with humaneness
Could kill one’s offspring but caress.
The money wasted is so much;
The world shouldn’t lose its human touch;
This world belongs to unborn too!
Let unborn live like how you do.
Man does not live by bread alone,
But by the words uttered by God;
Don’t force the God of life to moan,
Inviting wrath that turns His rod!
When love of God has given life,
He’ll certainly not give more strife.
No man predicts the things to come,
Life’s woes, like joys, we must welcome.
Life can’t become a paradise
By families cut short in size;
Blessings from God decides success;
Children are living gifts precious!
Don’t kill your unborn children please;
Let fears of rearing in you cease;
Children are human resources;
Rose-plant must have many roses!
Why make the human wombs mere tombs,
When money’s poured to see the moon?
Innocent blood that’s spilt in wombs
Could make the nations accursed soon.
‘Let unborn children live, like you and me! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-27-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Past Was Goodly Once
The Past was goodly once, and yet, when all is said,
The best of it we know is that it's done and dead.
Dwindled and faded quite, perished beyond recall,
Nothing is left at last of what one time was all.
Coming back like a ghost, staring and lingering on,
Never a word it speaks but proves it dead and gone.
Duty and work and joy--these things it cannot give;
And the Present is life, and life is good to live.
Let it lie where it fell, far from the living sun,
The Past that, goodly once, is gone and dead and done.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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We Are Alive In The Moment Of Death
We are the nocturnal nightmares of fear induced
We are fear by which hope is reduced
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game
We are as children hung from a rope
We are as children in fear of lost hope
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the silence of all that is night
We are the shadows scared of the light
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the killers of true passion in love
We are the angels of Hell’s mansion above
We are the wings upon which devils may fly
We are the fear and the tears that you cry
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the moon as we are the sun
We are the end and the story begun
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the children who beat you at school
We are the teachers that deem you a fool
We are the rotting as we are the fresh
We are alive in the moment of death.
poem by David Lacey
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To My Unborn Children
To my unborn children
To my unborn children
Just remember daddy loves you
Hope the lord’s looking after you
In case god judges me differently
I just want to tell you this
I’ve learned many things, As I’m blessed and still living
Thinking about my past, yeah reminiscing
My mum was a alone, single parent but proud
I love you mum and I’m saying it loud
I’ve only got one life to live
I hope god can forgive me for my sins
I promise I’ll never lie, cheat or steal again
My only friend is pain and misery
Cos of all the agony that certain people gives to me
See my life isn’t great but it'll sure get better
Hope you understand my love letter,
I'm writing you this letter
It’s to my unborn children
Want to let you know that I love you
Please believe that I feel this way
I think about you every day
And I have so much to say
It's hard to face this, cold world on a good day
When will they let us have our say?
I was in an RTA and yeah I'm still breathing
Got to be proof there’s a god if you’re looking for a reason
Can I believe in my own fate
Have to learn on my own now
I want to make it on my own
Yeah I don’t want no handouts
I don’t want any fuss when it’s my time to die
Don’t worry about me
I’ll be up in the skies
Trust me I won’t be feeling any pain
Cos I’ll get to see my unborn children again
I'm writing you this letter
It’s to my unborn children
Want to let you know that I love you
Please believe that I feel this way
I think about you every day
And I have so much to say
Dear lord hear me when I say
Look after my unborn children
Cos I will take over from you one day
Until that day will my children get to feel love?
Better still if you do will you show them enough?
Oh how I wish they were here
Maybe I should try and change
Then my outlook on life would be more tame
I hate this tough decisions game
Every time I look out at the pounding rain
I see their faces staring back at me
And I'm sorry for not being there
Just know your daddy is a fighter, me against the world
Bless the children of his earth
To the Lord when it’s my turn
May I eternally rest in your peace
So I can take care of my unborn children
I would look after them now
I’m stretching up with my fingertips
I’m so close, yet still so far out of reach
I'm writing you this letter
It’s to my unborn children
Want to let you know that I love you
Please believe that I feel this way
I think about you every day
And I have so much to say
To my unborn children, please forgive me
This letter goes out to you to hopefully make you see
That daddy thinks about you daily
mummy and daddy loves you, we’ve got nothing but love for you
Hope you got a good life up there with the lord
One day we’ll be up there with you
Please, please understand
Just know we got love for you
We’ll see you soon up there in heaven
Take care my children, take care
Have fun and be smart
Stay together and you’ll be okay
I know sometimes you look down on us...confused
But hopefully daddy’s thoughts and prayers will help you get through everyday
Cos when I die my spirit will fly determinedly your way
By Jay Basey © 2009
poem by J.M. Basey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Massacre Of The Unborn
No survive
Unborn child
Cut to pieces
Left without a name
Unwanted because of the problems of humanity
Unspeakable crime
Silent war is the name of the game
Millions are dying in actions of death and pain
Misguided mothers make this happen
Sometimes for a financial situation
Or a sexual mistake
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
Innocent blood cries in vain
Defenseless lives are slaughtered everyday
They should make a law against this insanity
Unborn corpses are growing in extreme quantity
Premature stage
Slowly destroyed by the human race
[Lead]
Tortured by tyrants
Unjustly demise
Infant children are left to die
Just innocent lives they slay
There is no chance to escape
Murdering is the matter of this case
A merciless torture to take
No one will live, because they won't survive
There's infant dying
Can't you see
That they will not have a chance
Of growing up in this life
[Lead]
[Chorus:]
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn
Massacre of the unborn child
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovingly Do The Work
Work is
Life...
Life is work...
Any work is not
Wrong...
Without work is
Worng...
Human every budy works
Wny way too work...s
Work is making you...
Work is given good life
For you...and your's...
So...
Understand too work
Earn money too work...
Live life with your work...
Love too work...
Learn to do the work...
Lovingely do the work...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Bleeding Edge (Death Poem)
Change is living every second.
For me, it is the spice of life,
Proof that I am not dead – yet,
Living on the bleeding edge today.
Changeless, death by boredom.
For some, it is the sea of tranquillity,
Proof alas, that dead can also be alive
Living, but dying by seconds daily.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Are Abortions Okay?
We've had three million abortions, statistics say
How many dead and dumped babies is that every day?
The abortions are bad enough but we can't see anything wrong,
As if tiny dead unborn babies really don't belong.
There are only a hundred and fifty abortions a day they say,
We are not allowed to know but; is everything okay?
We are all so politically correct that no one can object?
Can pregnant ladies do it, no matter what religion or sect?
There's something extremely wrong, though accepted here; I hate to say,
Regardless of what our appointed Supreme Court might say,
Why and when did we all become so politically correct?
With an unborn baby holocaust going on and can't be object.
poem by James Bredin
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Some Life’s Paradoxes
The dead can’t care about living;
The living must pray for their dead;
Though dead took care of living then,
The living can’t take care of dead!
The elderly cared for all young;
The young must care for aged when old;
The love that parents had shown then,
Can’t be repaid ever by young!
The fruits I enjoy now when young,
Are from the trees planted by aged;
The things I do to others now
Will be returned to me when old!
The measure I use for others
Will be used unto me by God;
The judgments I pronounce on next,
Will decide my after-life’s rod!
Let’s do our duty with great love;
Reward will come from heav’n above.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 20-11-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Embryonic Homicide
Life is same, no matter young or old;
Life is precious, more than silver, gold;
Life isn’t commodity that is sold;
Life’s from God, not from this nasty world!
Alike is life in children and adults;
Alike is life ‘in utero’, ‘ex womb’;
Alike is life of born and that unborn;
All human lives are equal before God.
All human beings are in God’s semblance;
Each body gets a soul that everlasts;
The love of God is shown to all creatures;
The Life-Giver alone can take back life!
The Embryo has life that’s God-destined;
The Embryo was formed by love of God;
The Embryo must grow by divine Word;
The Embryo has soul like anyone!
Why kill the embryo for its small parts?
Why destroy one life to save another?
Why treat the embryo with great disdain?
Why murder lives in womb for sake of born?
The embryo is healthy, not diseased;
The embryo is living, not deceased;
The embryo is child, awaiting birth;
The embryo is human too and worth!
No beast kills babies that are still unborn;
The world demands kindness to animals;
Why not protect the human lives unborn?
Preserve the dignity of life in womb!
Could God watch human lives desecrated?
Would God spare merciless human beings?
The embryonic life is life as well;
All ruthless murderers shall land in hell!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-9-2009
poem by John Celes
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Death of a Poem
Found dead in my study; lines strewn across the floor;
the slaughter of an unborn, a virgin text.
the sun electric, the burnt grass of the next life
that salinates the sea; an apple of the stars;
a dye stone; freedom as a whore and ghost of poets.
And the final pathos:
there are many ways of being dead before death.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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There Must Be An Easier Way
To earn one's living there must be an easier way
Than working in a menial job for menial pay
You age so fast your hair prematurely gray
And you must work hard till your retirement day.
When you ask the boss for a raise his answer no
For a raise in pay you must have more to show
The unemployed are many and the jobs are few
And there's plenty more to do the job you do.
At 5.30 a m each work day from bed I rise
Before daylight has lit the morning skies
Then long drive to work in smoky old work van
Such is the lot of the common working man.
The chap next door seems better off than I
He does not work yet life he does enjoy
Whilst I'm at work he rest at home in bed
And he doesn't look deprived or underfed
With six year old son and a non working wife
He live an easy and a stress free life
And I've heard it said that he's never worked a day
But good luck to him is all that I can say.
I do not receive or seek sympathy
For there are many far worse off than me
But living life would be a lot more fun
If I did not have to rise before the sun
poem by Francis Duggan
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