She found that black clothes suit her. Ever since, she has prayed for the death of a relative.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
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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The death of not a relative is a wedding.Compared to a death of a relative.
Around Here.
His battered old suit
simply his best
by not being worn
hangs on a hanger
waiting for a Sunday
or a christening or a funeral
to come ‘round
but nothing ever comes ‘round
‘round here
...only an occasional Sunday
or the funeral
that is your own
your last chance
to wear your best
now that Eternity
tired of all that time
settles into
your death
like a well worn
suit of clothes
and the occasional Sundays
go on & on
without you.
Yep, nothing happens much
‘round here
‘cept Death
and Life is glad
of the rest.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Black Boys In The Corner
Black Boys On The Corner (Lynott)
------------------------
One of the black boys said
"I need none of your pity"
It's your mama that don't
Like you loose in the city
But stick about, take note
Take a tip, take no back lip
Come come a little closer
Let me see you snap your fingertip
Because standing on the corner
Just might suit you or maybe baby
There's something else you wanna do
Like rolling dice, nice
Like shooting pool, hey that's cool
I'm a little black boy and I don't know my place
I'm just a little black boy, I just threw my ace
I'm a little black boy, recognize my face
One of the black boys said
"I'm a giving a warning"
"People been putting me down"
"I'm so tired I'm yawning"
A new suit, pretty boots to boot
And I'm feeling slick
Gonna go to town, look around
And pull a chick
Of course standing on the corner
Might suit you or maybe baby
There's something else that you wanna do
Like playing poker, joker
Like to back a race, ace
I'm a little black boy and I don't know my proper place
I'm a little black boy, get my head in its space
I'm a little black boy, I just play my bass
I'm a little black boy, it's no disgrace
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Consequence Of A Mocking Bird
once i was walking by the nile river
i saw my friends the black smith
my folly was that i was near his shop
the sparks had a good hop
it came on my clothes what a inconvenience
thats what my wife's opinions
there came a black goofy bird
mocking was his job what a disastrous bird
laughing at me is what he did
he laugh was like a annoying kid
my temper committed suicide and now its dead
my wishes was to send that bird to its death bead
i grabbed it from the tree and banged its head on the bench deck
then i twisted his neck
his death was pleasure
my anger found the murder treasure
poem by Hady Ashraf
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Black Boys On The Corner
One of the black boys said
I need none of your pity
Its your mama that dont
Like you loose in the city
But stick about, take note
Take a tip, take no back lip
Come come a little closer
Let me see you snap your fingertip
Because standing on the corner
Just might suit you or maybe baby
Theres something else you wanna do
Like rolling dice, nice
Like shooting pool, hey thats cool
Im a little black boy and I dont know my place
Im just a little black boy, I just threw my ace
Im a little black boy, recognize my face
One of the black boys said
Im a giving a warning
People been putting me down
Im so tired Im yawning
A new suit, pretty boots to boot
And Im feeling slick
Gonna go to town, look around
And pull a chick
Of course standing on the corner
Might suit you or maybe baby
Theres something else that you wanna do
Like playing poker, joker
Like to back a race, ace
Im a little black boy and I dont know my proper place
Im a little black boy, get my head in its space
Im a little black boy, I just play my bass
Im a little black boy, its no disgrace
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hear me, four quarters of the world - a relative I am Give me the strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is Give me the eyes to see and the strength to understand, that I may be like you. With your power only can I face the winds.
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
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I Met Death
I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say
His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak
So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:
“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”
And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood
“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.
And Death wasn’t phased at all,
“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.
“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?
“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.
I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.
So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day
poem by Jinny Tikanus
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Please youreslf
I think that ladies should ignore
The dictates of the fashion trade
The doubtful claims of haute couture
by so called experts often made.
A wise lady will choose her clothes
to show her assets at their best.
Not as the expert all suppose
to look exactly like the rest.
Dress to suit your face and figure
There is no need to buy in haste
clothes which make your rivals snigger.
Have faith in your own good taste.
Women come in many shades
different shapes and different sizes.
Mature matrons and slim young maids.
Every one that some man prizes.
A well dressed women who stands out.
Knows full well what she’s about.
She won’t let the experts tell her
how to dress to please her feller.
Some women have good fashion sense
but many lack the confidence
to tell the experts to get lost.
They can dress well at half the cost.
Fashion labels may sell clothes
but only silly girls suppose.
Only the latest style will do.
When obviously it is not true.
Suit yourself in the way you dress.
Choose the clothes that will suit you
If you do you will impress
in the way you ought to do.
Let all the fashion gurus prate
But don’t believe a word they say.
You know that you will look great
when you dress in your own way
Fashions come and fashions go.
You know when you’re looking good
What do the so called experts know? .
Ignore them as you know you should.
8-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Martyr Stephen Was By An Angry Mob Killed
Saul actively present when first Christian
martyr Stephen was by an angry mob killed;
assumed responsibility of guarding clothes
of all who zealously to death stoned Stephen.
For is it not written?
'At this they covered their ears
and, yelling at the top of their voices,
they all rushed at him, (Stephen)
dragged him out of the city and began
to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses
laid their clothes at the feet
of a young man named Saul.
While they were stoning him, Stephen
prayed, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'
Then he fell on his knees
and cried out, 'Lord, do not hold this sin
against them.' When he had said this,
he fell asleep. (To death Stephen
was by the mob executed.) Acts 7: 57-60.
Split imaging from the poem ‘Transformation Inquisition Saul Into Paul Of Tarsus'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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If I Prayed For You... (I Just Did)
if i prayed for you,
with the eyes of a child,
beaten, bruised, and hungry...
would you see, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with an old man's hands,
hard, calloused, and gentle...
would you feel, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with a mother's tears,
her daughter raped by your soldiers...
would you change, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with a homeless man's heart,
a human story untold...
would you care, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with a farmer's faith,
plowing and planting unseen...
would you believe, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
from a soldier's conviction,
who laid down his guns and walked away...
would you be inspired, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with a real doctor's conscience,
who made his life's work for the poor...
would you love, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
with the protester's courage,
beaten and arrested for the truth...
would you live, would you know?
if i prayed for you,
from the heart of god,
revealing holy desire....
hey, i just did!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black and White and Red
Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Days of 1908
That was the year when he stayed
Without work, for a living played
Cards, or backgammon; or borrowed and never paid.
He was offered a place at a small
Stationer’s, three pounds a month. It didn’t suit him.
It was not decent pay at all.
He refused it without hesitation;
He was twenty-five, and of good education.
Two or three shillings he made, more or less.
From cards and backgammon what could a boy skim;
At the common places, the cafés of his grade,
Although he played sharply, and picked stupid players.
As for borrowing, that didn’t always come off.
He seldom struck a dollar, oftener he’d fall
To half, and sometimes as low as a shilling.
Sometimes, when he got away from the grim
Night-sitting, for a week at a time or more,
He would cool himself at the baths, with a morning swim.
The shabbiness of his clothes was tragical.
He always wore the same suit, always displayed
A suit of cinnamon brown discoloured and frayed.
O summer days of nineteen hundred and eight, I recall
The picture of you, and out of it seems to fade,
Harmoniously, that cinnamon suit discoloured and frayed.
The picture of you has preserved him
Just as he would take off, would fling down
The unworthy clothes, the mended under clothes,
And remain all naked; faultlessly beautiful; a wonder.
Uncombed and lifted up his hair was;
His limbs a little sunburnt
From the morning nakedness at the baths and on the beach.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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I came thus far.
I prayed to the God;
I got enough blossoms.
It was the spring.
I prayed to the God;
I got a good bearing.
It was the summer.
I prayed to the God;
I got a bumper harvest.
It was the autumn.
I prayed to the God;
I got a sound sleep.
It was the winter.
By time I came thus far.
By faith I stood thus far.
26.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.
Henry David Thoreau in Walden, 1854
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For America
As if I really didnt understand
That I was just another part of their plan
I went off looking for the promise
Believing in the motherland
And from the comfort of a dreamers bed
And the safety of my own head
I went on speaking of the future
While other people fought and bled
The kid I was when I first left home
Was looking for his freedom and a life of his own
But the freedom that he found wasnt quite as sweet
When the truth was known
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
Its in my blood and in my bones
By the dawns early light
By all I know is right
Were going to reap what we have sown
As if freedom was a question of might
As if loyalty was black and white
You hear people say it all the time-
My country wrong or right
I want to know what thats got to do
With what it takes to find out whats true
With everyone from the president on down
Trying to keep it from you
The thing I wonder about the dads and moms
Who send their sons to the vietnams
Will they really think their way of life
Has been protected as the next war comes?
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
Her shining dream plays in my mind
By the rockets red glare
A generations blank stare
We better wake her up this time
The kid I was when I first left home
Was looking for his freedom and a life of his own
But the freedom that he found wasnt quite as sweet
When the truth was known
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
I cant let go till she comes around
Until the land of the free
Is awake and can see
And until her conscience has been found
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Holds Nothing
My faint White wardrobe
Opened with two scarlet handles,
There my clothes inside,
Silk, cotton, housing legions of you.
I stand choosing, indecisive,
Combinations cluttering my mind;
Colours and kind blinding those eyes
That powder into black sand
And put space, that deep desert,
Between my right ear and my left.
My head a vacuum: death into life into death.
Frozen.
Meanwhile, yellow-striped moths
Crawl out your mouth and mine too,
Line after line, not a few; trillions.
They eat, feast on evening-suit to the right
And darned mottled cape on the left, even the least
They bring to inexistence, their evening dish
To drape, I wish, the beggar's garb.
I am stood, staring at my
Empty wardrobe, no say left,
I am right naked,
Exposed to exposure
And nothing.
poem by Mark Challenger
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The Day She Was Born
I remember so vividly the day you were born
That day seemed like it would never end
I prayed you would come to the world safe
and I prayed my mother would come with you
I prayed and I prayed
The first time I held you in my arms
I felt the power of a sister bond
your face glowed with a divine light
the prints on your palms were delicately printed
there were soft stroked of curly black hair decorating your tiny head
When you opened your dark brown eyes
I then realized who I was holding in my arms
My sister, own sister
my little sister
On that day I vowed
to protect you with all my life
to provide you with life
and to be with you all throughout my life..
poem by Sinigdha Biswas
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