Death not merely ends life, it also bestows upon it a silent completeness, snatched from the hazardous flux to which all things human are subject.
quote by Hannah Arendt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is impossible for us to understand the Church if we regard her as subject to the limitations of human culture. For she is essentially a supernatural organism which transcends human cultures and transforms them to her own ends.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragrance of relations
Fragrance of relations
Money was always important in the past &
will remain important in the future.
The present revolves around it.
It plays a vital role in the society.
Some says the money is not less important then the god
But I think that human values are more valuable than the money.
Fragrance of relations could be obtained only by your style, behavior
& attitude and not by the money.
When money regulates the relations
It works like a poison.
Blood relations die when money enters between them.
Money becomes havoc when a son demands more & more money from his old parents with out knowing their will.
Money is the need of hour.
But relations become hazardous when its members
Became crazy for money.
Race for money never ends throughout the life.
When we got money, then we again crave for it.
Race for money goes & goes till the life ends.
We crush the happiness of the life for getting it.
We finish the fragrance of relations only for it.
If we die with money we will die without peace & satisfaction.
poem by Vijay Gupta
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A silente creature
The silent creature
populates the human
minds
A silent creature
is invisible but
reliable and fizzy
This creature is
silent because she
needs to be
understood, refined and
she wants a
lot of aids
A silent creature
is an explosion
of life
To be a
silent creature is
a fresh and
wonderful sensation
A silent creature
is an angelical
messenger
She is a
happy, ancient, colorful
and vital imagine
A silent creature
tells many different
and interesting stories
Sometimes the silent
creature deceives to
defeat the racism
A silent creature
is defenseless from
the not curious
A silent creature
is a desirable
but desperate and
suspicious person
A silent creature
can be an
alter ego
She is a
guide of dignity
and human values
poem by Laura arwen
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Silent Death
Silent death holds my breath
Stalks me from above the trees
There is no breeze
When death walks in my shoes
Silent, cautious, confident
A brilliant business man
Silent death’s cold embrace
Makes me dizzy
He is always busy
But has time for me
Silent death drowns my body
He isn’t sorry
Silent death looks at me
Underneath the water
My eyes dilated
Catch a glimpse
poem by Double A P SS
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Otherness
A silent presence
huddled in the dark corner
starts a notional dialogue
with a trust default.
I intend to proceed to-
explore the dementia,
accepting the uncertinity
of human symbol.
Snatched by ascending
tomorrow, you are not yourself
today, I am not myself,
clinging to sleeveless death.
Fear hauls you up on the
brazen rocks, you stand
alone in sun to find your toes
breaking the sound waves.
poem by Satish Verma
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Life Or Death?
Every day we live, we always face death
We get closer to it, every time we take a breath
Life is special but death brings peace
Life brings reality and things you believe
Death is hard for everyone around
Death is quiet, no more bad sounds
Life is also hard, all the things we go through
Life can never be easy, no matter what you do
Death is sad, for those who cry
Death is meaningful, for those who die
Life is a work of art, it's nice to look
Life is full of teachings, like an open book
Death is the new life, might as well be dead
Death is a lot more, for what's up ahead
Life brings new things, always something new
Life brings surprises, something out the blue
Death is scary, nothing we want to see
Death is negative, a place we don't want to be
Life is full of love, with the ones close to you
Life is full of money, for those who sue
Death is empty, nothing compared to this
Death is a lot of things, too long of a list
But life is everything; don't wait till there's nothing left
Death can wait, so don't waste your last breath
So just pick your choice, which one? Life or death?
poem by Triauna Hall
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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here
Life or Death
Death is a mystery,
and life is Suspense.
The journey to death,
is unknown yet,
and Life is a dream stage.
Nobody has come back
From their death,
And life seems to be,
Chasing an invisible end.
Escape from death,
is impossible,
and so from Life.
Death is most painful,
Life is even more.
Death is frightful,
And Life is a puzzle.
So is life,
or Death,
better for a human fate?
poem by Pratisha Karki
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LIFE and DEATH
You would know the secret of death;
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in life?
The owl whose night eyes are blind to daylight,
Cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you yearn to see the spirit of death,
Open your heart wide to the wonder of life.
For life and death are one, even as a river and sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent,
Knowledge of the great beyond;
And like seeds dreaming ‘neath the snow,
Your heart dreams of spring.
Trust your dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling subject,
Waiting to be honored by his king.
Is the subject not joyful beneath his trembling?
That he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked,
In the wind and melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing,
But to free the breath from restless tides,
That it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you sing?
And when you have reached the mountain top,
Then you shall begin to climb!
And when the earth claims your limbs,
Then shall you truly dance.
(Inspired by Kahlil Gibran)
ROTMS
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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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
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Lifes A Journey
I say life’s a journey, because life’s something we have once and everything we do and say is something we can’t go back and change. So I look at life as a journey. That I have to live full out, with no regrets. I don’t have time to live in the past or think about all the bad things. Almost all human being takes life for granted, and I don’t want to be one of those people. So I promised my self to never ever live with regrets, so I try to do whatever my heart tells me. And I try to stand up for all my believes, and I can’t do that if I live in the past or with regrets. It’s a waist of time,
Because life’s a journey.
I usually say if you got a dream go for it, because giving up on a dream is like giving up on life and giving up on life is like sitting and asking god to die. I know it’s hard to go for your dream when people tell you, that you won’t make it. So I just tell my self, whenever I fall I get back up, because I won’t give up without a fight.
Because life’s a journey.
What you’ve got if you don’t have faith, I know it’s hard to hold on to, when we live in a world like this. But I always hold on to my faith and my hopes.
My believes is what often keeps me going,
Because life’s a journey.
Life is hard, we all know it isn’t fair but I say stop worrying about what you/we don’t have and appreciate what you/we have. Because whenever you/we have a bad day someone else has a worse day and in worse case someone might be dying,
Because life’s a journey.
This world need some love, I know it’s easier to hate than love but at least could we try to respect each other. We would get so much more out of this journey then, I really believe that. Maybe sometimes we should just start to think about our self’s than everybody else. Because if we keep hate on each other, we will soon see world war 3, and I don’t think any one wants that to happen. I wish we could all respect each other, black and white, blue and yellow, bigger and smaller. Because at the end of the day we all human being on a journey that can end any time. It’s sad but it’s true,
Because life’s a journey.
Life’s a journey till the day it ends and when it ends there is no looking back or taking back. We had our changes only doomsday will show us if we wasted our time on our journey or if we enjoyed the journey and appreciated what we had. When we are at the end of our journey that’s when we have to face death. Many people forget we have to die because they might be afraid, but I’m not because it’s a part of life.
Life’s a journey till it ends.
poem by Precious Mason
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The Era Of The Dead
They live to die!
Death, the longing of all men
They are born to die!
Fate, the companion of infants
In this era, the era of the dead.
They strip naked
Like in the garden of Eden
Where innocence ended
And righteousness melted
From the era of the dead
To make ends meet,
They meet the ends
The ends of life
A life of values and morals
And on streets, they lie naked
The era of the dead
Who insure their death
And dig their graves, the savings
To bury their souls, the wealth
Eternally in the pit of perdition.
poem by Timothy muggaga
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A Forbidden Subject
Is the population decreasing because of abortions?
Or are the numbers balanced by high immigration proportions?
Do the statisticians make a connection and compare?
Are we allowed to even think about this abortion affair?
Have religious types gone silent about abortion clinics?
On every second street according to abortion cynics,
Has the issue left the public eye and died a slow horrible death,
Or a quick death like an unborn baby who never took a breath.
Is this a forbidden media subject that can't be discussed?
Is this subject so bad that people might look at it with disgust?
How many abortion clinics are operating on your street?
Do they have a big sign out front or is all very discreet?
Nov 23rd,2010
poem by James Bredin
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The unity of all things
The unity of all things
is a belief which some
would consider pointless;
others might regard,
as insidious; suspect a lurking
hidden agenda; some
might says it’s useless and unproveable,
declare pathetic fallacy, and hurry on
to life’s more pressing details and specifics;
I can only say that there are things
so useful to the mind, although
they cannot be proved;
I’ll say that holding this concept,
this glorious possibility, in the mind
makes one more inquisitive, be it
journalist or writer, or simply
human being: seeking always
the causes of all things beyond
what they profess to be;
so too for poets, swimming in a sea
of metaphor – of all things joined
in one more radiant meaning which lights up
the life of every thing; as when
a housewife dusts and polishes
a room into a home; bestows
her being on our space;
the unity of all things
makes space for all things;
Creation promises some order;
behind the smaller things, the greater;
a place for grace, for ordered life,
for hope, and charity, and love;
a boundless place; a grace;
a graceful space.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Silent
Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.
Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.
Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.
Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.
Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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Mind is the great lever of all things; human thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately answered.
quote by Daniel Webster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I came into the business, things changed a lot, and my life was in a real state of flux.
quote by Rachael Leigh Cook
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Censorship ends in logical completeness when nobody is allowed to read any books except the books that nobody reads.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Schooling Relationship
you are the subject which i study
understanding and getting to know you psychologically
learning new ways to do right
ways to out do the wrong
you are the subject which i study
practicing and testing the goods and bads
you are the subject which i study
the time has come graduation is here
learn the subject by studing its psychology
understanding is the only way for success
now we move on to the next step
you are the subject which i study to major
as i take hold of your hand
guide you through rough times throughout this life
you are the subject which i study to major
as time goes by ticking away
i studied you all those days
i understand your past history life
your psychology means alot to me
mentally physically emotionally speaking
you are the subject which i study to major...
poem by Diara Armstead
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Now You Are Perfected
there is always death
coming
death has always
been here with us
it is silent and does not
say anything
it is us
in this delirium fearing him
we talk too much
until we are silenced by
death
and death still is silent
it knows
what the ripe time is
it knows
where it is taking us
it knows
that is why it is silent
it knows pretty well
that soon when we completely know
it, we shall soon agree completely
it is beautiful as it is silent
as silence is beautiful
it is filled with so much wisdom
as wisdom is silent with its beauty
it is the only truth
that we must abide
and after that ordeal of pain and
worries
needlessly the anxiety of the unknown
that is spread under our
feet
we are victorious with it
we passed
as we passed away
we join those who are silenced too
in full wisdom and
beauty
death shall tell you
now you are perfected.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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