In The Peace They Have Found
They stood as memorials
to those who passed before us.
Epitaphs for formal lives,
white markers upon their grave
and as I sat among them,
there was silence everywhere.
Their bodies lay silent
deep within the ground.
They rest there for eternity
in the peace they have found.
22 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Peace to the world....
Peace to the world
Like a flower in the sky
Peace
Peace-overcoming evil with good be
Peace
Give me peace I won't cry anymore
White dove symbol of peace
Peace can be found deep down in the heart
Peace in the winds that sleep upon the deep
I want peace
Peace in my personal space
I want peace in my feelings
Cloth me in white
The color of peace....
poem by Anees Akbar
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Graveyard in the snow
Today, I cannot find your grave,
because the stone with your name
is set in the earth,
down, where it is not in the way,
when the caretakers mow the grass,
now you are covered with snow.
Everything is white,
so full of peace, so still,
I sit on the bench,
it is so cold, but
I feel so close to you,
after all, you are cold,
under the earth,
under this white sheet,
hidden, but there, I know.
Only a raven,
shiny in funeral coat of feathers,
black against the white,
sits with me, in a tree,
not far, insistently cawing,
a warning, an emphatic word
of solace.
The trees, dark green
under the snow,
are so silent,
I can hear a soft sliding,
when the clumps of snow
fall on the ground,
startling the raven.
He flies away,
a shadow against the clouds
of winter sky.
I must leave you now,
the deep cavity of my grief
is like the silence
of your snow-covered grave,
enticing me to stay.
But I have promised
a pledge to live,
before I can sleep
under the snow.
poem by Martina E. Elenbaas
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Gathering Dust
They sink into the ground with silence,
Voices we’ll never hear making a sound,
Only wishful smiles appear in a trance,
Gathering dust where the names are found.
They cannot rise from the deep isles,
To raise a smile even to murmur a sigh,
More darkness pours into the abyss,
Sunlight has closed time against the sky.
Idle flowers bowed in quiet solitude,
Left to revive by the morning early dew,
Flatten with footprints walked in tribute,
Push the hollow ground from distant view.
There they lay on bed of silent dismay,
Awaiting eternity, bodies gathering dust,
Old moss and rocks cover the mystery,
The verdant grass becomes a blanket of rust.
In disguise spirit rise to fly like an arrow,
Leaving the resting place to gather dust,
They may return as forces in a shadow,
And walk over grass where they lay the host.
poem by Gerry Legister
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A Silent Prayer
I sat in a graveyard
and watched people visit there.
They stood above a grave in silence
and spoke to those buried there.
They said a silent prayer
for God their soul to keep.
Laid some flowers for their loved one
and a tear did weep.
Even as the years pass
you will always see them there
with their thoughts of their loved ones
who had long passed away.
4 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Silence
Silence
There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox or wild hyæna calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan—
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.
poem by Thomas Hood
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When Will They Ever Realize
The sound of silence filled the air,
just before the dawn.
The sun’s streaky fingers stretched
forward on the fading night sky.
I walk in desolation,
for reasons I know not why.
The chorus of the morning birds
has yet to break the spell
of the unstrained silence,
which on everything had befell.
I tried to remember yesterday,
when the oyster of the world was mine.
I tried to see the smiling faces,
of those I loved and left behind.
The war was not mine or theirs,
but always someone has to go,
to do the battles for the sake of someone’s word.
An order given by a faceless person
and thousands throw away their lives.
There is no reason given,
and the faceless one doesn’t hear their cries,
of all those who fall on battlefields.
Giving up their families and their lives.
They call them cowards, those who refuse,
to follow orders to commit suicide.
There is no adventure in dying;
in a place, you cannot pronounce the name.
There is no glory in suicide,
but wars make men do it just the same.
When will they ever realize,
wars make no difference at all,
except to make rows of white crosses,
as memorials to those who had to fall.
I shudder at the sounds of the guns,
breaks the silence in my ears.
Will my loved ones before the days end,
be among those to shed tears?
13 March 1984
poem by David Harris
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As The Day Was Passing
The waves lapped gently to the shore
as a flotilla of sailboats rested
in corridors on the water
with their white sails stained crimson
by the setting sun
an evocative silence cloaked each and every one
as they nudged against their mooring
to each gentle wave that passed by.
A tourniquet of lovers
stood watching by the shore
as the day was passing
to be with us no more.
13 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Dream
Alongside the wide gray road stood I,
To watch a procession passed by,
Of the damsels, rather all in teen,
Of the same size height and colour,
The bulk and body; dressed in green,
But all bore the features quite different.
Drenched them the incessant rain;
They passed and passed by jostling,
In silence in rows long, unendingly,
Numerous, countless were they all,
Neither worried, nor did seem happy;
Glanced they at me with stealing looks,
And I stood silent with lowering eyes,
Peeping into innerself like a criminal,
When brought among the fellow men.
It confounds, troubles me when I think,
Whether their plight was shown to me,
Or mine to them, I could not decide.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In a Cemetery...
Islands of memories
Cities of stone,
Sentinels of silence
In the great all-alone,
‘What do you find in
Your new-found release? ’
Sigh-whispered silence, girl:
‘Peace, perfect peace! ’
Youth fresh from aging,
Love’s bloom anew,
Old friends re-greeting
The girl they once knew,
Those who have loved you
In life’s livid crease
Hold to your memory in
Peace, perfect peace!
11 March 1975
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Celtic Sonant
Deep peace of the running wave to you
Deep peace of the flowing air to you
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you
Deep peace of the shining star to you
Deep peace of the son of peace to you
One man stood firm guarding cups overflowing
Brimful of memories and yesterdays dreams
He could never explain his own silent thunder
The ocean just blows rough at this time of year
And the wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
Turning around
Away we will sail with all our flags flying
Too many changes can cause us delay
Each star in the sky is there for a reason
Making it so bright for this time of day
And the wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
The wheel keeps on turning
This fool made it round
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Helpless Epitaphs
know well these:
not all days are sunny
sun does not say sorry
if you love the rain
it will not come again
sometimes life does
not run as expected
it walks slowly
and then it stops
why life stops
of course they grieve
but know this
the grief is not prolonged
the next day
they are at it again
living their lives
like the way you once did
days and nights
and seasons
and there you are
forgotten like the rest of the names
of those who passed away
on helpless epitaphs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nameless Soldier
A bayoneted rifle stuck in the ground
with a soldier’s helmet on it
lies as a marker for a solder buried there
in the haste of battle.
No more will he see the joy again
within his loved ones eyes.
No more will he feel the tears on his cheeks
as they leak down from his eyes.
His is just a lonely grave
that is crying out for a name
like hundreds there with just a rife as a marker.
At home, and mothers weep for their lost sons
who fell before their time
leaving their ghost to roam
across a soon forgotten battlegrounds.
The grave will lay unattended
all the time fighting prevails.
Only a rifle stuck in the ground
will tell all someone is lying there.
The nameless soldier
whose flesh had been torn to shreds
lies silent and at peace
in a land far from his home.
22 May 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Autumn Burial
A small crowd stood around the grave;
my presence being one of them.
With our heads bowed downward and our
Predominant, black and white clothes
We all resembled king penguins
in the early autumn morning.
The breeze increased and blew the brown
Dead maple leaves around our feet,
some aptly onto the casket
deep within the newly dug grave.
Other than the wind, the silence
Is deafening except for an
occasional cough from the group.
The eulogy begins “Here lies ….”
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Such, Silence Was Spiritual..
Such, silence was spiritual
Spirituality was so silent
Seated amidst 'Supremacy'
Highly high above me
Like a lotus above mire
Mind and soul somewhere apart
Eyes and ears all elsewhere...
My big-eyed gaze gazing..
His semi shut eyes tranced
Engrossed wholly of the limitless
Floating upon beyond earth's spheres
A great discovery he 's rejoicing..
Here, what am I, a tiny bit trivial
Drowned ever in tearful unsolved enigma...
So such, wonderment raised my soul
In inqusition to follow his march
A march towards the summit of silence
Upon the mounts and dawns of silence
Along the streams of silence
Along the scented florescence of silence
Along the immortal bliss of silence..
Could only be a watcher me silent
Watching my soul marching spiritful
On and on steady until someone nudged me..
Interrupted was me alone, not his vigil
For he was the Buddha teaching in silence
Succor and solace in huge silence
Such, silence was spiritual..
An experience at a buddhist monastery
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Sacrifices
Autumn leaves have fallen
across long forgotten battlefields
where deep below the ground
the dead lie asleep.
Their lives torn apart
by some wicked war.
There they have immortality
for they will age no more.
Their sleep is restless
for from their deaths,
no lessons were learnt
and men and boys keep killing
in constant wicked wars.
On the eleventh hour,
of the eleventh day,
of the eleventh month
we stand in silence
to honour their memory
for the sacrifices they made,
but we have never learnt the lessons
This poem is dedicated to the memory of the men, women and children from all countries that have lost their lives in wars that have plagued our world. May their souls rest in eternal peace.
for which their lives they gave
as the killing still goes on and on.
poem by David Harris
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Silence
I awake to silence and in silence I sleep
Silence to silent me, I silently weep
Away in silence for silence to hear
The sorrow in between both mine ear.
I think in silence, I mediate in peace
Thinking peacefully in silence I cease
All the sorrow that embosoms me
All the silence, that silence be
Whatever silence is, for silence tis
My beauty, my desire, my Adonis
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Fixtures Upon the Ground
These inflictions committed,
Can not be conscious.
Can it be that those attack,
Good deeds done...
Just to hold each other back?
So enraged that someone...
Wants to improve the quality of life,
For everyone.
And those who will benefit,
Are so beset by jealousy.
Lieing and denying any signs of it.
A character assassination is solicited.
And those who do this are proud of it!
Just how sick can an ignorance get?
But it happens as it is witnessed....
In the daily lives of those sitting with this addiction.
In our urban centers!
As shiftless scores...
Adorn their wounds as empathy from outsiders,
Continue to shower upon them and pour.
Here...
And everywhere,
Are those being fed this kind of mental illness.
Although they will pray with innocence...
In churches where they gather without comprehending,
Those judgements that they pass...
Are invisible inscriptions,
In the minds of other hypocrites.
And not reflected,
In those graceful sayings engraved.
Repeatedly recited and at repasts made.
Nor truthful statements heard.
Or nowhere to be found.
As they are buried six feet deep,
In a grave laid...
Under concrete ladened epitaphs!
Fixtures upon the ground!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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His Old Dog
His old dog now in her long rest her lot will be ours one day
In her grave by the apple tree in his backyard her bones forever lay
She passed on a few years ago with sadness he recall
The clock of life keeps ticking on and time takes care of us all.
His old dog a black and white border collie to him was a true friend
Far more devoted than his ex wife she loved him till her end
He found her dead in her kennel from a heart attack over-night
Though twelve years old she had not shown signs that her end was in sight.
Although he always kept a dog in years and decades past
No canine now in his backyard his old bitch was the last
Dog for to bark in his back-yard he too feels the weight of time
It has been five decades or more since he was in his prime.
On the rose tree on the old dog's grave red roses are in bloom
And the Summer air scents sweetly of Nature's own perfume
And no more beautiful place to rest in peace than beside an
apple tree
In the backyard where you lived your life in your Hometown by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sonnet: Lasting Peace on Earth
The peace that’s found on earth lasts not for long,
As leaders break their promises often;
The peace that wars bring serves to just prolong
The rivalries, when differences soften.
Man needs the peace of mind, of heart and soul,
Apart from peace surrounding his earth’s space;
Progress in fields occurs when peace is goal,
And keeps the health and wealth of human race.
The peace that wars unleash is quite futile;
The peace that dialogues bring, much better;
The peace that world bodies give is fragile;
The Maker is the final peace-setter!
The peace that man bestows on earth is short;
The peace that God ushers, none can abort!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-9-2009
poem by John Celes
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Wings Unshuttered - 1290 - Current Version
Shutters utterly unpinned, Spring pings flight.
Wings leave stutter gutter mutter ground unpinned,
found sound kiting, gliding upon current wind,
flowing freely towards the light,
unfettered, playful, bright,
challenging eternity, sing hope alight.
meeting - YOU - sweet
greeting - YOU - treat
entreating - YOU - helpmeet
defeating - FUSS - retreat
heating - US - replete
completing - US - fleet
(30 March 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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