En.Citatepedia^®.ro

We Are Alive In The Moment Of Death

We are the nocturnal nightmares of fear induced
We are fear by which hope is reduced
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game
We are as children hung from a rope
We are as children in fear of lost hope
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the silence of all that is night
We are the shadows scared of the light
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the killers of true passion in love
We are the angels of Hell’s mansion above
We are the wings upon which devils may fly
We are the fear and the tears that you cry
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the parasite worms in your brain.
We are the moon as we are the sun
We are the end and the story begun
We are the dead and the living the same
We are the board when your life is the game.
We are the children who beat you at school
We are the teachers that deem you a fool
We are the rotting as we are the fresh
We are alive in the moment of death.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fears of a teenage mafioso

Fear of love,
Fear of pain,
Fear of the unforgiving cane,
Fear of lies,
Fear of sighs,
Fear of those distraught eyes,
Fear for the unknown,
Fear for the known,
Fear of everything combined,
Fear is what makes me blind,
Fear is what makes me think,
and act in blind accordance,
Hindering the world around me,
Hence, My Fear of myself
Fear is when you run away,
Fear is when you’re scared to love someone,
Fear is when the sky turns grey,
Fear of confusion,
Fear is like a dark blue ocean,
Fear won’t let me escape
Fear mocks me, watching
Fear taunts me, waiting
Fear of losing,
Fear you cannot see,
Fear dealt upon thee.
Fear of darkness and death,
Fear of a dead comrade,
Fear of a gun being cocked,
Fear of being endlessly stalked,
Fear of time,
Fear of all the crime,
Fear of the undesirable truth,
Fear for the good.
Fear for the sake of life,
Fear of the neighbors next door,
Fear of the secretive man in the subway,
Fear of the revolutionary uproar,
Fear is to not rejoice your living,
Fear for the sake of your life,
But to fear is to forsake it.
Fear is to have no hope in life,
Fear of the fear of fear,
We need no reason to fear,
For fear has no reason for itself.
I guess life is just like that,
To fear for no reason,
For to fear is not to reason,
But to reason is to fear.
To fear for the sake of fear,
Is fear for fear,
So let me think,
What else do I fear?
What else do I fear?
What else do I fear?

poem by David daveres
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fear

Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.
Fear of electrical storms.
Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!
Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.
Fear of anxiety!
Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.
Fear of psychological profiles.
Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.
Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.
Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.
Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.
Fear of confusion.
Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.
Fear of waking up to find you gone.
Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.
Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.
Fear of death.
Fear of living too long.
Fear of death.

I've said that.

poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead

WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD

When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-

When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?

When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-

When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-

When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-

When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-

When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy

When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.

When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-

poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Do Not Fear

I do not fear big cats or snakes or dangerous crocodile
Between where I live and they live are many a mile
Those I fear the most to me live very near
'Tis only my own species I need to fear.

I do not fear sharks or the dangerous hippo
To anywhere near where they live I never go
The species I fear most I see every day
I fear my own kind does that seem bold to say?

I do not fear venomous spiders though of them I beware
And I surely do not fear the feared polar bear
Since they live in the Artic that's far north of here
No 'tis only my own kind that I've reason to fear.

The elephant and the rhino in zoos I only see
They are not renowned killers they do not bother me
And why should I fear the dead or the dead person's ghost?
'Tis the living of my own kind that I do fear most.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Losing Life to Fear

In fear of being heard,

In fear of being understood,

In fear of not being heard,

In fear of not being understood,

In fear of being misheard,

In fear of being misunderstood,

In fear of hearing too much,

In fear of understanding too much,

In fear of saying too much,

In fear of saying too little,

In fear of being too enlightened,

In fear of not being factually correct,

In fear of being too bright,

In fear of being too ignorant,

In fear of being praised,

In fear of being bullied,

In fear of not being like others,

In fear of loosing my individuality,

In fear of being ostracized,

In fear of being camouflaged,

In fear of being the attraction,

In fear of being ignored,

In fear of being too different,

In fear of being too common,

In fear of following others,

In fear of disobeying others,

In fear of being too gullible,

In fear of being too stubborn,

In fear of being used,

In fear of being misused,

In fear of rewards,

In fear of punishments,

In fear of responsibility,

In fear of expectations,

In fear of being trusted,

In fear of being mistrusted,

In fear of your lack of response,

In fear of your over-reaction,

In fear of eternal silence,

In fear of noisy communication,

In fear of your acceptance,

In fear of your rejection,

In fear of exciting you,

In fear of upsetting you,

In fear of loving you,

In fear of hating you,

In fear of your love,

In fear of your hatred,

In fear of being loved,

In fear of being hated,

In fear of thinking,

In fear of existing,

In fear of living,

In fear of dying,

In fear of being myself,

In fear of being another,

In fear of knowing myself,

In fear of neglecting myself,

I lost my voice;

I lost my identity;

I lost my self.

I lost this life;

I lost my life;

I lost life's life.

poem by Suraj Samtani
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I Fear

I fear for the innocent
I fear for the law
I fear for the young
I fear for the old

I fear for the dead
living in my head
I fear for my sanity
I fear for humanity
I fear for this world
and what we have done

Then I realize
I don't fear at all because...

I fear

poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gates To Hell

I know that in the depths beneath
Guilty are the saved.
I know living through pain
You will obey. you lie.
Living out this day your body begins to rot.
Low down here beneath living is dying.
Woe can feed by thoughts of the dead.
Find your way to escape. you cant even try, try.
Enter the gates to hell.
It is. is where we must dwell.
Fear, fear of fate, then your fate is getting , is getting into grind.
Even as weve begun youre decomposing as youre dying.
When youre paying for life after life.
Thoughts are incinerated. life is a crime.
Burning out.

song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Or Alive

There in the shadows, looks like a hand
Without its owner, to give it a command
Its got a purpose but I dont know what it is
Im in trouble
There in the streets, looks like a man
But something wrong that I dont understand
His eyes are open but he dont see a thing
His skin is peeling off, his bones are sticking out
Im getting scared
Oh my God (is it dead? )
Is it living? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
(is it dead? ), is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
Hiding in the cupboards, like little mice
Hiding in the frigerator, that isnt nice
Its not an animal, it dont have legs
No one else can see it
It moves so fast, corner of my eye
Look again its gone, its hiding
Wont somebody help me, doesnt anybody care?
It waits so patiently, for me to lose my guard
Im getting scared
Is it dead, is it
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead or alive
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead, is it
I remember there was a time
When dead and buried meant just that
Underneath the cold dark ground
Things stay put!
Oh them bones they make them bodies walk
Them bones, them bones
If they could only talk!
Is it dead (fade)

song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bleeding Edge (Death Poem)

Change is living every second.
For me, it is the spice of life,
Proof that I am not dead – yet,
Living on the bleeding edge today.

Changeless, death by boredom.
For some, it is the sea of tranquillity,
Proof alas, that dead can also be alive
Living, but dying by seconds daily.

poem by Ian Beckett
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Prempeh

The dead know nothing and the living are living in fear!
But you are too young to be inspired by this message at hand;
For, the intospections of my realm are than the things you love.

Present in the blood are viruses!
And like a colourful durber with the muse of love;
But, my pet is the cat and,
To relocate my mind is like the muse of my residence.

The micro organisms are in the blood!
So, do inform Prempeh my friend to visit me;
For, i do have a message for him in this land of many rivers! !
But, do keep fit with your romance and keep fit with the love around you as well.

The beasts of a woman are now on the hairy chest of a man!
but, the dead know nothing and the living are living in fear! !
But this muse of love is now noted in your land;
For, the days are now shorter than the beautiful flowers of love.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bread

Sleeping at night in a plaster board box
Scratching the earth with the nails on my fingers
And the ground pukes up rocks and rocks and more rocks
And when the seeds finally reach the ground
Its all been for nothing
I hear the cries of children at night
I watch their faces grow sallow with hunger
Who draws the line between whats wrong and right
And when I ask my life is for
Its all been for nothing
Save your regrets for the dead, but for the living
Give them love and give them bread
One more hungry mouth to be fed
Remember the living
Give them love, give them bread
Standing in the light of the kitchen screen door
Like some kind of untouchable stuck in calcutta
I almost forget what Im standing here for
And I dont know what to do but I know
I wont leave with nothing
Where are the days when life was carefree
Why must I suffer this, what was my crime
Begging or thievery, which shall it be
Is there no other choice for me
I cant live with nothing
Justice only comes to the dead
And when they ask me what life is for
I must give them something

song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brothers Cry

How many times do we have to play this game?
Why do your excuses always sound so lame?
You try so hard to impress the men in black,
When will you give me a crack?

Where are you now?
Lost again,
Living a lie, oh why?
Anger and fear?
Time to change gear!

Love, you say, is the answer, faith in a Higher power,
But what is it that you love? Earthly power?
You live for the approval of the many,
Where will they be when you breathe your last?
I will be there, you can hang on to my mast,

You are so close to faith, one more leap,
But instead you make me weep,
In the end our soul will mend,
Only when you bend,

Where are you now?
Lost again,
Living a lie, oh why?
Anger and fear?
Time to change gear!

Brother you need cry no more,
But you must lie no more,
Yes, it is you I adore,
But who needs who more?

When all is done and dead,
Where will you head?
I know the way,
Please don't delay,

Where are you now?
Lost again,
Living a lie, oh why?
Anger and fear?
Time to change gear!

Place your head on my breast,
It is time for peace and rest,
I will forgive,
When you choose to live.

April 2012

poem by David Andre' Klopper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bedside Viduals For Who?

bedside given viduals
for dead or dying
which comforts most?

deathwatch by windows
love watch by night
with a final kiss good night

in order to help
beloved deceased
you must raise

your deceased
from death
soul delivered

funerals for family friends
to pay public last respects
funerals are for the living

their shaking hands
oft in darkness held
in fear solemn viduals

love for the living
still life possibilities clinging
dead feel nothing

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Devil's Night

a lust for blood a horrors night
a longing for the taste of innocent
flesh demons come out to play
when the nights hour is none
let the rest less rise and roam
through the streets of the living
let all awake hear the screams
as blood stains the nights streets
reward the wicked with a personal
lick of the tongue down the neck
as the blood filled vains pop in your
mouth feel alive again as your thrist
for blood is lifted
feed my children feed rip the life out of
the living let all your my children feed
allow the living to fear when the nights
none let only the wandering souls of the
dead roam these streets
cause tonight we feed like
kings on to the flesh of the living
let all a sleep awake to the horried streets
an when the nights bright let the
shattered memories of former friends
mothers, children, father be seen in a pool
of there own blood as we rest to return again
when the clock strights 3am and the night
becomes none =] hahaha until tomorrow my pretties
until tomorrow

poem by Robert Roberts
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Everlasting Gaze

You know I'm not dead
Now you know where I've been
As you sleep
Torn I am
Weighted down
Patiently
Born of love
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living in my head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all
Into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I'm not dead
Found below
The creatures scream
Stranglehold
A god machine
Begging to
Tear us out
Worn as hope
You know I'm not dead I'm just the tears inside your head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I'm not dead
We all want to hold in the everlasting gaze
Enchanted in the rapture of his sentimental sway
But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every c.o.g.
The fickle fascination of an everlasting god
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living in my head
Forever waiting
Forever waiting on cruel death
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living for myself
Forever waiting
You know I'm not dead

song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Life’s Paradoxes

The dead can’t care about living;
The living must pray for their dead;
Though dead took care of living then,
The living can’t take care of dead!

The elderly cared for all young;
The young must care for aged when old;
The love that parents had shown then,
Can’t be repaid ever by young!

The fruits I enjoy now when young,
Are from the trees planted by aged;
The things I do to others now
Will be returned to me when old!

The measure I use for others
Will be used unto me by God;
The judgments I pronounce on next,
Will decide my after-life’s rod!

Let’s do our duty with great love;
Reward will come from heav’n above.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 20-11-2010

poem by John Celes
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We are the Children as we are the Dead

I am the rain as I am the storm
I am the leaf as I am the tree
I am the soil as I am the worm
I am the soul and I am free.

I am the bee as I am the hive
I am the ant as I am the hill
I am the corpse as I am alive
I am the birth as I am the kill.

We are the children as we are the dead
We are the free as are those that are bound
We are the children as we are the dead
We are as lost, we are as found.

I am the cow as I am the herd
I am the blade as I am the field
I am the whispering secret unheard
I am the farmer as I am the yield.

I am the nothing as I am the all
I am the rise as I am the fall
I am the death of spirit anew
I am the red the yellow the blue

I am the king as I am the queen
I am the plauge as I am the cure
I am the world as I am a dream
I am the secret of lusts sweet allure.

I am the wind as I am the earth
I am the sea as I am the fire
I am the songs the sirens may sing
Promising everything you may desire.

I am the fool as I am the crowd
I am the silence as I am loud
I am as heavy as I am light
I am as blind as I may have sight.

We are the children as we are the dead
We are the homeless that wish to be fed
We are the teachers of children at school
We are the children who break all the rules.

We are as one or as nothing at all
We are one throughout the fall
I am death and I am alive
I am the bee I am the hive.

poem by David Lacey
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Death of the undertaker

Darkness prevail as the wolf in the yonder it wails,
the loss of a soul to those alive unknown,
his tools locked back in the shed no one around for tears to shed,
the big guy with his big face be fell,
there is no one to take his reins,
what he gave and what he ment no one took time to take details,
the grounds he ones strolled and to some it seemed his home,
there emptiness will be known to all living and dead souls,
death of the undertaker whose gonna set his tombstone,

the mood seems dull the moon is shy to the sun,
the loss of this big man who never sired a son,
he never had time to have life he lived his life for those who lost theirs,
the grave aint dug the ground still untouched,
it takes his loss of breathe for us to learn,
the death of the undertaker whose gonna set his tombstone,

all that knew him more are six feet under,
all the living beings stand on ground and just wonder,
it takes a strong man alot of love and honour,
to be like this one who is dead and put asunder,
the living will get to know the dead man was important to us all,
for its death of the undertaker whose gonna put up his tomb stone,

poem by Kennedy Musyoka
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The Soil And Stone Too Are Living Things

the hair on its own
is a line of dead cells
but when it's on the head
it's part of a living spirit

the sand on its own is a
startling patch of the reality
of the non living

but put in the water, put in air
light and seeds and it
becomes a part of the living world

take away any of these the living entity
dwindles into a dead plane

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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After the Azkarah (Memorial Service)

AFTER THE AZKARAH (Memorial Service)

After the Azkarah
There is Silence
Silence and the Sadness of Silence
What is there to say after all?
The words have been said
Words of Love and Gratitude
Words of Tribute
They have been said
There is nothing more to say
The dead are dead
And the living are the living
Soon the Silence of Sadness
Will end
And the words even trivial words begin again
The Living are the Living
We are not yet
The Dead.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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