After that I could never pass a dead man without stopping to gaze on his face, stripped by death of that earthly patina which masks the living soul. And I would ask, who were you? Where was your home? Who is mourning for you now?
quote by Ernst Toller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
World is stopping,
World is stopping,
World is stopping all moving,
World is making all destruction,
World is stopping to see a Revolution,
World is stopping to see feigned verses Unfeigned,
World is stopping to see us dead to live,
World is stopping to see burdens Increase,
World is stopping to see us going to Hell,
World is stopping so that we do the Will of Truth,
That the Truth is a lie to many people,
But Truth is living by the will of the Unseen,
Since He does not exist,
He really does exist.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Light Of Glory
Voices of the living
Faces of the dead
Shadows of their souls
In my head
Spirits walking
to the light of glory
looking down
on a world in mourning
Mourning for the living
not the dead
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet-Be Wise
Our earthly-life is just a passing phase;
The luckiest thing is being born human;
Just transient are the problems that we face;
Lets live our best and do service yeoman.
Yet, pass we all this way just only once;
What luck to be one's kith and kin, kindred!
Our soul could shine then like a hundred Suns,
But only after we are earthly dead.
In this short time, what anxiety we face;
There isn't the time to ask about others;
We find our worldly-life is like a maze,
Where frustrations, our heart and mind smothers.
The worldly-man stays forever but vexed;
The soul-wise man is ready for God's Test.
poem by John Celes
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Soul On Fire
Theres a flame that leads our souls astray
No ones safe from its tender touch of pain
And every day its looking for new slaves
To celebrate the beauty of the grave
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverance
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
And again were falling for disgrace
And hate will shelter us from the rain
We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame
And gently raped by the light of day
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
Addicted to our divine despair
(? )
But you will follow us to death
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
With a soul on
Soul on
Soul on
Fire
Soul on fire
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soul On Fire
There's a flame that leads our souls astray
No one's safe from its tender touch of pain
And every day it's looking for new slaves
To celebrate the beauty of the grave
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverance
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
And again we're falling for disgrace
And hate will shelter us from the rain
We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame
And gently raped by the light of day
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
Addicted to our divine despair
The venom of the cross we bear
The guilt will follow us to death
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
With a soul on
Soul on
Soul on
Fire
Soul on fire
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marilyn
She lies
Upon her bed so still
unable to summon up the will
to get out and face the day
as time slowly slips away.
She shies
From the inevitability
not accepting reality.
For Death is approaching fast!
How much longer will she last?
Her eyes
Look around at the family
gathered so uneasily
as they gaze helplessly on
knowing she will soon be gone.
She tries
To fight for her very life
to remain there as his wife.
But she's unable to speak
and her body is so weak.
She sighs
Exhaling her final breath
and her body gives in to death.
The finality of death is felt
by her bedside as they knelt.
She dies
Breathing out lifes last breath
and succumbing to her death.
Lying there upon her bed
all motionless. She is dead.
She flies
Her soul to worlds unknown
and he's left there all alone.
Helplessly looking at her there
beyond the reach of his care.
He cries
Gazing upon her lifeless face
and holding her in his embrace.
Unable to prevent the flow
of his deep sobs of sorrow.
'Arise'
She is summoned before God
to account for the paths she'd trod.
Stands alone before Him there
as her life's deeds are laid bare.
Surprise
Our turn too will quickly come
when God shall call our soul home.
We too must pass through death
when we draw our final breath.
Be wise
Let's kiss God's Son while we may
to survive that judgement day
then through Jesus we'll be forgiven
and allowed to enter into heaven.
Death of the undertaker
Darkness prevail as the wolf in the yonder it wails,
the loss of a soul to those alive unknown,
his tools locked back in the shed no one around for tears to shed,
the big guy with his big face be fell,
there is no one to take his reins,
what he gave and what he ment no one took time to take details,
the grounds he ones strolled and to some it seemed his home,
there emptiness will be known to all living and dead souls,
death of the undertaker whose gonna set his tombstone,
the mood seems dull the moon is shy to the sun,
the loss of this big man who never sired a son,
he never had time to have life he lived his life for those who lost theirs,
the grave aint dug the ground still untouched,
it takes his loss of breathe for us to learn,
the death of the undertaker whose gonna set his tombstone,
all that knew him more are six feet under,
all the living beings stand on ground and just wonder,
it takes a strong man alot of love and honour,
to be like this one who is dead and put asunder,
the living will get to know the dead man was important to us all,
for its death of the undertaker whose gonna put up his tomb stone,
poem by Kennedy Musyoka
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Twisted Masks
Sick in the head
Sick in the mind they'll call me
The hypocrites who lie about their masks
they see not because they look not
who i am is who i choose to be
masks filled my face from inch to inch
tell me who i am you sick twisted soul
thinking you know my heart like its gold
twisted time engraves upon ones heart
like sadness on the face of a clown
does my face shine that masks so
but who am i to twist the facts of life?
poem by Branden Aeling
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Returning From A Mountain Retreat And Finding You Not There
The old valley at Machayeng! So
Full of the bones of the warriors
Of our forefathers who in death
Trouble not the living.I wish people
Would respect the dead and it's wrong
To turn the graves of the dead into
Places of worship for the living
My friend! I challenge you to visit
The caves at Meqheleng! They are majestic!
The rock formations are intricate man!
I never in my life thought that nature
Could be so soothing to the soul
And it's sad and I am back in the sad
House.And I thought it was a sad empty
Threat you were making.And it has happened
And you have gone.And three sad years have
Passed and I have even forgotten in my
Sadness what it's like to make love
To a woman.But sad seasons come to pass
And sad men too pass away.And they live
Their sorrows behind for their sons
To inherit.No man in his right mind must
Tell his son to have male children
Better to have a daughter and have less
Troubles.I know my own sons each one of
The three of them died a violent death
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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At The Last
Where are you--you whose loving breath
Alone can stay my soul from death?
The world's so wide, I seek it through,
Yet--dare I dream to win to you?
Perhaps your dear desired feet
Pass me in this grey muddy street.
Your face, it may be, has its shrine
In that dull house that's next to mine.
But I believe, O Life, O Fate,
That when I call on Death and wait
One moment at the unclosing gate
I shall turn back for one last gaze
Along the trampled, sordid ways,
And in the sunset see at last,
Just as the barred gate holds me fast,
Your face, your face, too late.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Stripped Away
Fuel - Stripped Away
I must have left my soul cracked open
like a door. . .
in the night. . .
Seizing the opportunity
while i lay there sleeping
all the beggars and thieves walked in
and they stole
all i stored inside
I woke to find
a shell of a man
and all i had once believed . . .
Stripped away . . .
Stripped away
Well i sat at Satan's table
and I drank the wine
in a feast of revelry
Till my eyes were red and swollen
and my soul was so held with stains
that just won't come clean
and i tell myself
that i am in youth
What all i could achieve
Stripped away . . .
Stripped away
Well i stared at my own reflection
But i know that those eyes can't be me
My sprit floats in desperation
on dreams like I've never seen
So i reach for you
and draw you near
and pray that you won't be. . .
Stripped away
Stripped away
song performed by by Fuel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Numbness Along the Road Leading to Our Destiny
that night i passed by the road
leading to the house where i live,
someone died on the road
i did not mind i was eagerly heading for home
this morning while going to the university
another body sprawled on the road,
another dead body
there is a crowd of people
curious but not mourning
i do not stop for death
i am going towards mine
and we who are still living cannot really be surely
lucky
everyday we are dying
we simply have to wait for that fateful time
it is our turn we do not have to anticipate it
every hour
a part of us dies
it is enough
sharing these moments of death
and so i say
i cannot stop for another person's death
destiny has once taken him
and there is nothing that i can do
i am also just merely passing by...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teen Remembrances(one I did 4 a class)
Teen remembrances are a drag
When you're living within too many masks
Covering up what everyone wants you to cover up
You always remember living
Three different lives
Three different people living inside
You just wanting to be one
With such low expectations
One has to set high goals in life
To know ones self by
No one understands that I just want to cry sometimes
Tears do fall from these eyes
I just hide them away in the hole
That I slowly drowned in without laughing from day to day
The smile that I put on my face every day
Fools everyone I meet and the ones that I don’t
It even fools me from time to time
Thinking I really might be happy but I’m not
I’m not happy here and that is why I have to leave
To run and hide within my many masks
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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The Lady of the Motor Car
The Lady of the Motor-car she stareth straight ahead;
Her face is like the stone, my friend, her face is like the dead;
Her face is like the stone, my friend, because she is “well-bred”—
Because her heart is dead, my friend, as all her life was dead.
The Lady of the Motor-car she speaketh like a man,
Because her girlhood never was, nor womanhood began.
She says, “To the Aus-traliah, John!” and “Home” when she hath been.
And to the husband at her side she says, “Whhat doo you mean?”
The Lady of the Motor-car her very soul is dead,
Because she never helped herself nor had to work for bread;
The Lady of the Motor-car sits in her sitting-room,
Her stony face has never changed though all the land is gloom.
Her motor-car hath gone to hell—the hell that man hath made;
She sitteth in her sitting-room, and she is not afraid;
Nor fear of life or death, or worse, could change her well-bred mien;
She knits socks in a stony way, and says, “Whhat doo they mean?”
The lady in her carriage sits, with cushions turning green—
And once it was a mourning-coach, and once it held a queen.
Behind a coachman and a horse too old to go to war,
She driveth to her “four o’clocks” and to her sick and poor.
And when the enemy bombards and walls begin to fall,
The Lady of the Motor-car shall stand above you all;
Amongst the strong and silent brave, and those who pray or shriek,
She’ll nurse the wounded from the grave and pacify the weak.
And if the enemy prevails, with death on every side,
The Lady of the Car shall die as heroines have died,
But if the victory remains, she’ll be what she hath been,
And, sitting in her motor-car, shall say: “
Whhat doo you mean?
”
poem by Henry Lawson
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Reveals A Woman
In the face without masks
Death is a woman
In the moment you know yourself
Death is a woman
At the end of all questions
Death is a woman
As the well of all answers
Death is a woman
At the end of all regrets
Death is a woman
In the liberation through tears
Death is a woman
As the relief from battle
Death is a woman
In the loving embrace
Death is a woman
In the dreamless sleep
And in the endless peace
Death is a woman.
10-12-2007
poem by Sr. ANTONIO MCKINNEY
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41
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some Spaces Some Silences
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Masks are falling
Masks are falling.
Don't say it please,
that you are wearing it too.
Harrowing wind, distressing rain,
Freezing cold and burning heat - I have seen it all.
Looking at your face,
I walked pass through.
Now tremor beneath my feet.
Don't let the color go off.
If the earth is still so green,
That's because of you.
If the time stopped at dusk,
Oh dear, the reason I knew.
Masks are falling.
Please remain the way you were.
I fear to see you new.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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