
The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.
quote by Jean Cocteau

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.
quote by Jean Cocteau

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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

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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

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Through death I walk
Im about to walk through death
Through another door of life.
A diffent lane to walk.
My death is kind of by choice.
As another day of pain
I refuse to live.
Pills down my throat
Arms slashed to shreds.
Im walking the walk of death
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell

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Walking Man
Moving in silent desperation
Keeping an eye on the holy land
A hypothetical destination
Say, who is this waliking man?
Well, the leaves have come to turning
And the goose has gone to fly
And bridges are for buning
So dont you let that yearning
Pass you by
Walking man, walking man walks
Well, any other man stops and talks
But the walking man walks
Well the frost is on the pumpkin
And the hay is in the barn
An pappys come to rambling on
Stumbling around drunk
Down on the farm
And the walking man walks
Doesnt know nothing at all
Any other man stops and talks
But the walking man walks on by
Walk on by
Most everybodys got seed to sow
It aint always easy for a weed to grow, oh no
So he dont hoe the row for no one
Oh for sure hes always missing
And something is never quite right
Ah, but who would want to listen to you
Kissing his existence good night
Walking man walk on by my door
Well, any other man stops and talks
But not the walking man
Hes the walking man
Born to walk
Walk on walking man
Well now, would he have wings to fly
Would he be free
Golden wings against the sky
Walking man, walk on by
So long, walking man, so long
song performed by by James Taylor

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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

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Death 'married' Death To Death
Death looks at a flower and you screaming,
I am beautiful, look, look..
look here I am, come and eat me, alive.
Death hovers, smiling, never waiting, walking always
walking by, walking in side, you knowing that,
any thing that touches, it will soon also, come to *sigh*.
Death is love, love is death, what are you both, death
is your pet pink pig and deaths two flying bagged pearls.
Slapping you for ever and ever about your red face.
Death is a dry cracked nipple, sleeping, holding on
to the flesh untill it falls off, still dripping.
Death is a bullet fixed, never moving, why does the
world move you through it.
Death is a voice always quite, sounding alarms to
walk across the street knowing you look both ways,
while you come running very quickly out across,
just to stop in the middle and wait.
Death is a woman, who is crazy, thinking the world is
spinning into her coffee.
Death to all men who think they can save each woman
by marring death and eating her tuna fish sandwich.
Death fingered you, you loved it, now you finger me,
leaving my bee exposed on the flower, you buzzed it.
Death's own flower is always sweet and poignant on you..
It is always open for death to smell..............
and it's red alarms, you ignored...
still here it comes, never alone....to see you as you really are....
poem by Is It Poetry

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Walking Through Barbed Wire
Wish I could see you for one last time
Wish I could say goodbye to you
It's hard to deal with you dying
It's time to say goodbye to you
Bloody-faced
Kissing death
Walking through barbed wire
I'll let you go
Let me go digging thru myself
I would die for you
I'd walk right thru barbed wire
Good luck in your next life
Walk as tall as the trees
Be gentle as spring winds
And have the warmth of summer sun
I would die die for you
I'd walk right through barbed wire
I blame myself for your death
It's tearing me apart
I would die die for you
Yes I would
Let you go
Let me go digging through myself
Bloody-faced
Kissing death
Walking through barbed wire
song performed by by Papa Roach from Lovehatetragedy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crude Ladder
I began to pull up a crude ladder,
The boots this time clung on;
To catch at the top a frequent visit
Was overworking but obvious play.
Hurrying down the encounters existed
As the bad luck sensibly entered.
Out of the tent stared a real monster,
But up the sloping hill a luck gave birth.
The birth of fortune was the treasure,
The treasure was the lucky system,
Falling and toppling, like gold and jewels.
Thanking the ladder was like showing blood
To heaven, heaven was a heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram

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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

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Walking In My Footsteps
You're walking in my footsteps
From the tracks
That I have left.
You're walking in my footsteps
For now you see
My regrets.
For now you walk
With a limp
From your burdens
Your back is bent.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For now I see
That you're upset
You're walking the road
That I've walked before
The one I swore
I'd walk no more.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For now you see
The tracks I left
You're walking it so fast
Just like a run
Leaving the mud prints
Under the sun
That dries up
and turns to dirt
Which blows away
But stays the hurt.
And you're walking in my footsteps
From your burdens
That I have kept
I see the blood
That I have shed
Mixed with yours
Though it still is red.
And you're walking in my footsteps
For the footsteps now, are the same
With the same depth
From the same tears
From the same old troubles
From the same old fears.
And you're walking in your footsteps
For mine are gone
And yours are here.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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Walking In A Dream
We walk together, but in silence
I want to say something,
And even you want to say something,
We both struggle to say something,
But we are just walking in a dream.
We think of each other,
And dream of each other
Our thinking is a feeling out of each other
We walk in a dream and we are
Just walking in a dream.
Walking without talking,
Waht kind of dream is this,
But still we walk together
Without saying a word, by obscuring
Silence,
We continue walking in a dream.
poem by Rajesh Kumar Vaishnaw

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Dead Man's Rope
A million footsteps, this left foot drags behind my right
But I keep walking, from daybreak 'til the falling night
And as days turn into weeks and years
And years turn into lifetimes
I just keep walking, like I've been walking for a thousand years
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
If you're walking to escape, to escape from your affliction
You'd be walking in a great circle, a circle of addiction
Did you ever wonder what you'd been carrying since the world was black?
You see yourself in a looking glass with a tombstone on your back
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
Now I'm suspended between my darkest fears and dearest hope
Yes I've been walking, now I'm hanging from a dead man's rope
With Hell below me, and Heaven in the sky above
I've been walking, I've been walking away from Jesus' love
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
The shadows fall
Around my bed
When the hand of an angel,
The hand of an angel is reaching down above my head
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain
song performed by by Sting

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Lonely Road
This is a dark and lonely road
We all walk
Its sometimes so dark
We cant find our way
We want to quit
But keep on walking
In the end it gets better
You just wait and see
Its hard
Trust me I know
But sometimes
We have to trust
We know where to go
And what to do
This road might be long
It may seem like your the only one walking it
It may seem so dark there is only one way out
Just keep walking
It gets brighter in the end
Trust me, I keep walking
But I'm not through just yet
But I know I will succeed
I will finish this long dark road
Alone I will be once more
But I will find one road
Where I can see
I am not yet done
It may take a while
But I can find other ways to walk
Take the walk alone and you will learn
That you can see better when you are scared
Stop and think even if death is right behind you
We will finish this dark road to find a brighter one.
poem by Lizzy Henry

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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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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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I live by a hill. I began walking it and then I began jogging it and then I began sprinting it.
Walking In Assurance
Walking in peace and very assured, is a soul that knows the Lord,
Knowing Him as Lord and Savior, not simply as a God or Creator,
But embracing the work of Christ, so to walk with Him in New Life.
Not following likes of religious men, but by God, now Born Again.
Walking with The Lord each day, I’m granted peace along the way,
Walking with Him as Lord and God, I’m guided on this earthly sod,
As God has a new work for us, when by faith we’re in Christ Jesus,
A new work while upon this earth, when in Christ we have new birth.
This new birth I’m speaking of, comes not from man but up above,
A spiritual birth from The Lord, when on a soul His Spirit is poured,
Poured into the heart of a man, all through God’s providential plan,
God’s Spirit then dwells inside, so in Christ, man can always abide.
With Christ’s Spirit in our heart, The Lord our God will never depart,
And so God’s Peace dwells within, while we walk and abide in Him,
With God’s presence within our life, through our Lord, Jesus Christ,
Through Him we’re in God’s Family, now on our way to life eternally.
God’s assurance, now guides our life, in this world, filled with strife,
Knowing the Creator, so loved us, that God sent to all Christ Jesus,
As God’s Lamb and Perfect Sacrifice, to pay for us, sin’s full price,
With God’s Spirit, as our guarantee, of our life with Christ, Eternally.
The Power of Words
'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words!
Life is in them, and death. A word can send
The crimson colour hurrying to the cheek.
Hurrying with many meanings; or can turn
The current cold and deadly to the heart.
Anger and fear are in them; grief and joy
Are on their sound; yet slight, impalpable:--
A word is but a breath of passing air.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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Instead of joyfully looking forward to my birth, my mother began systematically preparing for her own death. She was fatalistic.
quote by Lorna Luft

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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