The End
Death, the final equalizer;
be it a leaf, human or star
their end is inevitable.
Can it easily be conceived?
will it truly be understood?
Do their unique differences:
diminutive or gigantic
change deaths meaning and concept?
Does any of that matter much?
Humans perceive death as macabre
a horror of loss and decay.
leaf and star suffer the same fate
yet both lives end naturally
without a promised afterlife.
Octal Syllabic Verse
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Macabre Beauty
They say death is the end,
But I don't think so,
Death's an old friend,
Waiting for us to go,
Away from this realm,
When our job's over,
The world seems a dream,
That keeps on going forever.
They say death is dark,
As dark as coal,
Extinguishing life's spark,
Dragging into it's hole,
Little do they realize,
That this is nature's law,
So, why're they surprised,
For it's like this since long ago?
They consider death macabre,
For it's the final end,
Like a sharpened saber,
Cutting the delicate thread,
But though it may seem,
That death's always macabre,
But it does itself redeem,
By bringing a new future.
Strangely, I find myself at peace,
When I am not at ease,
I request death, oh please!
Have me from my bonds release!
Silently, death does it's duty,
Therein lies it's macabre beauty.
poem by Suvankar Sen
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Dry leaf [Foaia veştedă]
Wind has brought me to the window
A dry leaf with its strong breath –
It's a letter without cover
Sent to me by the grim death.
I shall keep it, I shall lay it
Near those sheets upon the stand,
Which I once received with pleasure
From my lover's tender hand.
As the tree forgets its dry leaf
Which on wind floats like a boat,
She may have forgotten all these
Yellow sheets on which she wrote.
And the words of this flirtation,
Which is dead, watch me with strife,
They were proved to be deceptive
I demand to end their life.
Yet, I cannot set on fire
Their vain meaning sweet and wry,
It is tragic and unpleasant
That they cannot quickly die.
I shall keep the grief and sorrow,
And the fortune, and the fun,
When the loss makes me to suffer
To re-read them one by one.
Yet, the gentle news of her death
On the sheets I add obsessed:
Death heals all the wounds and surely
The hot passions come to rest.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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A Second Spring
The dew indiscriminately
wept for all things living and dead
on this early autumn morning.
Its cold droplets caressed the leaves
while lingering sap-starved leaf stems
clung precariously above
and each dying leaf shed teardrops
for and onto their fallen kind.
One by one they released their hold
falling silently, gracefully
in their final unique fashion:
Some swayed. Others pirouetted;
and many more, somersaulting
into their final resting place.
Sunbeams from an October star
spilt rippling puddles of warm light
on their multicolored remains
amid the vibrant wildflowers.
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
Albert Camus
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Afterlife Light
That star in the night sky
Is not there anymore
But we see it and will see it
For millions of years yet to come.
Did the star die?
Did it live?
In life, we call this phenomenon
A ghost, a hallucination.
(Is life a ghost too?)
What if the star never lived?
Or maybe its death dies
While the star continues to live,
Cheating death
With its afterlife light.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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Another Leaf.....
another leaf
another year
another seed to plant
another tree to grow
there will be no hiding from now on
there will be more
confrontations
no one to trust
everyone is a suspect
love of self
nothing greater than this
another leaf
of the book to turn to
another page
to write on the journal
tomorrow is my day
my own unique beginning
you were all disappointments
my food came to the wrong mouths
there is no wishing for death
for me or for anyone
there is more use to reason now
rather than the flings of the heart
another sun for me
another new moon
my shadows follow me
and not otherwise
another leaf
without a worm
another glistening leaf
dew forgiven.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Autumn Song
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
poem by Dante Alighieri
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A Star Deep In the Mind
I see a new star on the horizon;
It's not the Morning Star;
It's a star without light.
This star without the light is the brightest
Because its light stays within.
The biggest star doesn't take any space;
It lives within,
Feeds all other stars, all other matter.
Without space, there is no time,
Without time, there is no aging,
Without aging, there is no death.
A star without light never dies;
It cannot be seen in the outer space;
It can only be sensed in the mind.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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Autumn Song
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems—not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1883)
Submitted by anonym
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
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Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Certain truths about human beings have never changed. We are tribal creatures in our very DNA; we have an instinctive preference for our own over others, for "in-groups" over "out-groups"; for hunter-gatherers, recognizing strangers as threats was a matter of life and death. We also invent myths and stories to give meaning to our common lives. Among those myths is the nation - stretching from the past into the future, providing meaning to our common lives in a way nothing else can. Strip those narratives away, or transform them too quickly, and humans will become disoriented. Most of us respond to radical changes in our lives, especially changes we haven’t chosen, with more fear than hope.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death is a part of all our lives. Whether we like it or not, it is bound to happen. Instead of avoiding thinking about it, it is better to understand its meaning. We all have the same body, the same human flesh, and therefore we will all die. There is a big difference, of course, between natural death and accidental death, but basically death will come sooner or later. If from the beginning your attitude is "Yes, death is part of our lives," then it may be easier to face.
quote by Dalai Lama
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Favorite Star of Mine.
Far above in that sky,
Is a small star of mine,
Star where life exists,
That star shines brighter then light.
It is the star of fascination for me,
It is the star of my fantasy,
It is the star of my dreams,
It is the star that belongs to me.
A star that is all alone,
A star that is full of love,
A star where I have to reach,
A star of my dreams.
It is the star that lies beyond the sun,
It is the star of ultimate truth,
It is star of love and peace,
It is star where my soul lives.
It is the one to call me,
It is the one to attract me,
It is the one I’ll love to see,
It is the one I have to reach.
poem by Anurag Kumar
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Aircraft Crash: Smashing Finale
in these strange last doomed moments
tubular steel aluminium plummeting
mind may race falling through cloud years
minutes to live out life lived decades
seconds split frozen in turbulence ruptured
time in frozen feed years eclipsed on impact
people get to die among absolute strangers
impacting ending all random seated lives...
together doomed, to death’s last dark, deadly moments
in death, you people may all die fright, screaming together
but you people, resurrected will not be raised, up together
plummeting descending, cut off moments, terminated together
a final fire ball, impact ending all tomb, bound together
but eternity, branches out into individual, extreme contrast
final fate, was never ticket shared compact, eternities differ
for some, a hellish beginning for others, glorious resurrection...
do not believe the lie that in death all lie equal
angels fell impacting earth doomed eternity
seed of Adam Eve some rise supplanting angels
souls created in God’s image share heavenly sphere
horror inevitable death inescapable ending for all
horror seconds plummeting prepare ready or not
horror account settled tallied charge death absolute
not ready to meet your maker fear judgement coming...?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The most horrible
I have to face the deaths of my parents.
Inevitable and unbearable;
I have to face the death of myself too.
Inevitable and most dreadful;
If I faced the death of my grown child,
Which I need not, it’d be most horrible.
08.11.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls
It is a matter of life and death.
We sense our mortality in the destiny of another.
This isn't easy for us to confront.
We seek ignorance of such final thoughts.
Only those who have been made aware,
Can truly face death.
We look at its empty eyes and see nothing.
At first, we are afraid.
This is our human existence at stake.
If we were merely mortals, then this would be normal.
However, humans are not merely mortals.
Every single word within us cries out against the waste.
I am unique. So are you.
There is an expression,
'We will never see his like again.'
Even so, Easter has taught us
That God preserves the life force beyond death.
It is the hope of resurrection
That sustains us in this life.
Those that have this faith in God,
Believe in the past, the present AND the future
And we therefore spend our lives
In prayer and good works.
No matter where we are,
While there is a single thought left within us,
We can still pray.
This is life.
Not the striving for more and more things,
While others starve to death.
Let's be more sympathetic
In regard to complete strangers,
Men, women and children
Facing terrifying squalor, disease and persecution.
It's easy to feel sorry
For the good old Georges of this world,
Because they are the good ones we don't want to lose.
But what about the tiny babies
Who haven't the strength to lift a finger
To do any good works?
They are more deserving if left to live a full life
Than the ones who have already lived for decades...
Many of these have never seen a shoe...
And they don't even know that each one of them
Has an eternal soul...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Star Alone Star
star
alone star
shining, twinkling, moving
just being what you are;
star alone star
though watching minds make of you a meaning
a wish, or a symbol
but alone star you are simply what you are;
star alone star
unlike men, women
unlike intelligence that must form and associate
who must be this or that
conditioned and grown and nurtured
and shaped
and programmed;
but you star
alone star
not like this or that
but simply natural, what you are
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Fall to Earth
The stubborn little Maple leaf
held on when all its fellows fled.
They carpeting the ground beneath
a vast lushscape of gold and red.
Leaf held on through wind and rain,
the last survivor of its race.
Leaf held on past Turkey day
maintaining there its pride of place.
Then Leaf grew lonely, I suppose-
Like the summer's final rose.
Leaf envied then the flakes of snow
Who fluttered past to their repose.
Then, just as winter came to call,
Leaf felt a tug and then a snap.
Flying, tumbling on the winds
Fall to Earth. Fade to black.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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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
A Leaf
to a non-poet a leaf is just a leaf
and when it falls
on the ground, there is nothing but a
fall
but to us who claim this art
a leaf is not just a leaf
but it can be you or i
falling and when i reach the ground
you feel the heart of the leaf
beating
for its falling, its failure as a leaf,
its surrender to a certain death
its claiming a portion of this earth
to rest and be part of this
world, it rots, and it speaks some line
before it rots
a poem, a valediction on an anthill,
an eulogy of the other leaves that
fell before the great falling
it can be a story of humanity written
on the lines of its face, it will have flesh
on its layers, some mouths on its
seams, and it will tell too
about the tree where it comes from
how the clouds drifted so close to its stalk
how the sun kissed it on top of everything
a leaf is a world. just as a poem is.
we live inside it. Through it. Even
outside it. Even in circles.
we make understanding so complicated.
yet we are so simple as you see us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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