People want the right to die at a time of their own choosing. Too many families have watched helplessly as a relative dies slowly, longing for death.
quote by Polly Toynbee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Old Age Even The Longing Dies
IN OLD AGE EVEN THE LONGING DIES
In Old Age even the Longing dies
Bit by bit-
We lose everything -
Death is the answer
But that too often comes too slowly -
We lose everything
Even the Longing-
Old old old
Life is not a dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVIII: Absolutely Relative
Expensive is absolute, cheap is relative
Far is absolute, near is relative
Ugly is absolute, beauty is relative
Weird is absolute, crazy is relative
Stubborn is absolute, brave is relative
Stupid is absolute, smart is relative
Weak is absolute, strong is relative
Old is absolute, mature is relative
Lose is absolute, win is relative
Rich is absolute, poor is relative
Sad is absolute, happy is relative
Misfortune is absolute, lucky is relative
Safe is absolute, fear is relative
Love is absolute, hate is relative
Important is absolute, forgotten is relative
Easy is absolute, difficult is relative
Wrong is absolute, right is relative
Bad is absolute, good is relative
Lie is absolute, truth is relative
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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What Death Is Great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: what death is great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
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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.
The Longing Is The Heart Of The Poem
THE LONGING IS THE HEART OF THE POEM
The longing is the heart of the poem
The longing for so much
Which will never be again-
The longing to be young again
To love again
In a true and deep way-
The longing for all the times and people
Who are not
And never will be again-
The longing which tells me again and again
How much we lose in merely living
How deep and rich life is
In time and ways and people
Beyond our ever remembering and recollecting fully-
The longing is for so much that is gone
For so much that will never be again-
Life itself is a longing for life itself
And life goes beyond itself in so many ways-
All the longing all my longing
Will never bring it back
even that
which is always here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Yema quells other fears
In me dies the fear of God;
I don’t pray as time runs out.
In me dies the fear of people;
I don’t love as their help dries out.
In me dies the fear of space,
Shrines being no longer divine.
In me dies the fear of soil;
I don’t long for it, about to leave.
In me dies the fear of looks
As I live a life of neglects.
In me lies the fear Yama
As to how He would conduct me.
[Yema is the god of death]
15.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The death of not a relative is a wedding.Compared to a death of a relative.
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
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Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
0015 The Couple on the Station Platform
There’s this couple
they’re standing there, not close enough
to be about to kiss and separate,
one for the train, the other
more slowly back, but close
people pass them, one way, the other,
they’re still; they’re calm, it’s an important decision but
they’re sensible people, they’re
going to make this together,
give each other space, take it
slowly so that
years and children on from now
they’ll look back and know
they did the right thing at the time
whether they’re together then or
happily two different families,
two different partners,
no regrets.
if they’d been standing like that for
just five seconds, they’d be simply
deciding whether there was time
to grab a quick snack or whether
to risk what’s on the train but
they’re still standing there; time
is less important than that
they should decide together so that
they’ll feel the same way forever
as they feel soon, when the moment comes
that they know what they’ll do
this is not a film, or some poem which
has a beginning and an end
it's now and it’s two lives
and I, an onlooker drawn in
a passing glance, into these two lives,
am caring for these two people
I know nothing about, so much that
I cannot bear to know the outcome
in case I know too much
even though I know they’ll make
the right decision. I
walk on, slowly, as if I’m
carrying something important that
I’ll unpack later.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Helplessly In Love
Never knew the closing of a door
Could open up a heart
Since the day we met I needed you
(needed you)
In my life
To do and say the things that i
Needed to feel and hear
Im just
Helplessly in love
(ooh)
Dont know what to do, im
Helplessly in love
And the love in my heart
Is for you
Ive always been a man who took control
But now Im so helpless
Cant find the nerve, I get emotional
When youre around
And its hard for me to tell you or
To show you what I feel
Im just
Helplessly in love
(helpless)
(ooh)
Dont know what to do, im
Helplessly in love
And the love in my heart
Is for you
Baby, baby
I just cant understand
No I dont understand
Why my feelings get so confused
Why Im like that
Why I love you like I do
So I picked out these three words that best
Describe the way I feel
Im just..
Helplessly in love
(ooooh)
Dont know what to do, im
Helplessly in love
(uh, oh)
Dont know what to do, im
Helplessly in love
And the love in my heart
Is for you
Helplessly in love
(baby, baby)
(ooh)
Dont know what to do, im
Helplessly in love
And the love in my heart
Is for you
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rotten at the heart of England
Shadows deepen as truth slowly dies
As indifference claims the throne
Lost in isolation, someone broken, cries
Feigned interest revealed hearts of stone
Sneering politician’s poor in all but lies
Media silent, peddles libel, conscience flown
Conformed, corrupted rotten to its soulless eyes
Circus of distraction is the seed that’s sown
Shadows misery deepens blackening the skies
Who would have thought, who could have known?
Diseased corruption riddled and maggots turn to flies
Something rotten at the heart of England, always shown
When silence stood and watched as truth so slowly dies.
poem by Adrian Wait
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World Wars
Soldiers Fight. Enemies Fight Back
World Wars Come To An End.
The Loved Ones Go And Fight For They're People.
They Shall Fight For Land
They Shall Fight For Glory
They Fight For The People That Live.
They Shall Not Let Anyone Down
They Must Do Much As They Can.
The Soldiers Fight.
The Soldiers Protect.
Once One Soldier Dies, Others Soldiers Die
they must bring peace to the land they protect.
We Remember The People Who Went To War.
Some Of The Families Lost A Member In War.
Some Of The Families Didn't Lost A Member In War.
In War, It's Hard To Survive In War.
You Gotta Be Strong And Brave.
The War Is All About The People We Care About And Keeping Enemies Away.
poem by Sonya Wesley
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Love Never Dies...
I never knew how long a day could be
It was winter and the sun was shining
Beyond the shadows I could see
It was winter and the wind was blowing
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
The season end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
I look at picture I took of you
Now its winter and the colors fading
I just sit here while the wind blows through me
No matter how hard I try
Cant stop this feeling
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
True love never dies
Never dies
Now I dont want to be wanting you
Its been three years and my hearts still crying
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies !
True love never dies !
Love never dies
Love never dies
Love never dies...
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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 death death death
Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have Watched With Awe
I have watched with awe
As the sun slowly sinks
Beyond the distant western fields
And I’ve wondered
What’s it like-
The place where the sun goes to bed?
Are there guardians there
Who guide his descent
To his nighttime rest?
What a job it must be
To see the sun safely at rest
Who awakens the sun
Each day
And makes sure
He rises on time?
Who are they
Who bid him to have a good day?
I have watched with awe
The setting and the rising
Of the sun
I have watched
And wondered
poem by Thomas Noel Smith
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And If An Old Man Dies
AND IF AN OLD MAN DIES
(Yet another reflection on Koheleth)
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him nothing-
And if an old man dies and leaves behind
Much family and wealth
And friends who remember him-
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him
A reverenced work
Esteemed through many generations-
And if an old man dies
With a name mankind wishes to take with it to its own grave-
And if an old man dies
And nothing survives of humanity
And all his works and wishes
Bound up with the being of others
Who earthbound will die with the Earth
Or transformed into other kinds of being elsewhere
Lose eventually their essential humanity-
And if an old man dies
As all die
And if we stand forever alone in a universe unknown,
Then what else is there but praying to God
And hoping
That somehow beyond it all in some way we cannot now understand
An old man‘s death will be more or less
Than what we can think or know it to be now-
And if an old man dies,
And somehow never dies
And if God saves us all
And if we are surprised
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Houses
People who are afraid of themselves
Multiply themselves into families
And so divide themselves
And so become less afraid.
People who might have to go out
Into clanging strangers' laughter,
Crowd under roofs, make compacts
To no more than smile at each other.
People who might meet their own faces
Or surprise their own voices in doorways
Build themselves rooms without mirrors
And live between walls without echoes.
People who might meet other faces
And unknown voices round corners
Build themselves rooms all mirrors
And live between walls all echoes.
People who are afraid to go naked
Clothe themselves in families, houses,
But are still afraid of death
Because death one day will undress them.
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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