This Side of the Truth
(for Llewelyn)
This side of the truth,
You may not see, my son,
King of your blue eyes
In the blinding country of youth,
That all is undone,
Under the unminding skies,
Of innocence and guilt
Before you move to make
One gesture of the heart or head,
Is gathered and spilt
Into the winding dark
Like the dust of the dead.
Good and bad, two ways
Of moving about your death
By the grinding sea,
King of your heart in the blind days,
Blow away like breath,
Go crying through you and me
And the souls of all men
Into the innocent
Dark, and the guilty dark, and good
Death, and bad death, and then
In the last element
Fly like the stars' blood
Like the sun's tears,
Like the moon's seed, rubbish
And fire, the flying rant
Of the sky, king of your six years.
And the wicked wish,
Down the beginning of plants
And animals and birds,
Water and Light, the earth and sky,
Is cast before you move,
And all your deeds and words,
Each truth, each lie,
Die in unjudging love.
poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Light is out, Black is in
The light is getting dark
the clouds are turning gray
but i'll be ok
The day turns to night
and it's not going to change
So i'll walk through the streets
to see myself in a different light
The dark catches up and i'm covered
with death and dark
the dark is my new best friend
Through the dark i can control death
Through my death i can see my life
the life that was, is and could have been
with my new found friend comes
the choice of life or death
The dark is good it's new
the light was bad it's old
through the dark new choices arrive
with the light nothing was to choose
The dark is getting darker
but is that good or bad
cause it means death is for sure
I want the light back
I want to see myself not a stranger
poem by Jess Jayne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Dark
In my dark
I was lost and confused
feeling as if my heart
had been ripped and abused
In my dark
I discovered the truth
In my dark I couldnt find my way
I wanted to stay
hidden so far away
Deep in the ground
where I could no longer be hurt
In my dark
I was safe
no longer in the world
where words mean nothing
and hearts dont exsist
In my dark
there was only this
In my dark
I wanted to take my last breath
Close my eyes
hold closer to death
But in my dark
there was one voice
who refused
To let me close my eyes
to hide from the truth
That in my dark
tho I had never seen
That in my dark he had always been
holding me.
poem by Danyel Theresa Vertalics
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Death Dies Again
It was death himself
at my swords tip
shocked at his predicament
unaccustomed as he was
to insouciance
and unfamiliar he was
with his own impending ending.
How do you tell Death that
his own death comes?
He said.
'How am I to meet
alls end this way
when I am the very symbol
of the terminus;
the end for all and the other many? '
'Tell me how I am come to this end;
the irony of my own dead death
now near? '
'Death must die' I said
as life itself begins'
'Its not so mysterious Death
to understand.
You are not the end but
my own beginning
and I am life's insistence at the beginning;
that coming to the fore
youth moving to sure
and steady borning.
'That is the cycle of all things, '
I said.
'You die death;
not a sad departing
but my own new beginning.
'How sad' Death said
'I understand your glib reckoning
but my death to me is personal
and while the Great Cycle
to you is mesmerizing
for me it is my fully sensed ending.
Endings are personal and while
loves I've known
have found new loves
it has not
and did not
obliterate
old love's ending.
And that is I.
Old loves die
and their death
is not erased
by new love's
beginning;
they fade
away amid the sad
sighings
we hear at night
when alone
in our beds
in the dark
crying.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Dark Servant
I wish the moonlight away
In the dark with thee I wish to play
Like stars in the dark night
None shall see we for many years
Behind many tears
We will be out of sight
In the dark our truth see
In the dark where souls be
In the dark love laden
The dark shy sweet maiden..
Her poetic fervent
my dark servant
my poetry
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here And Now
As the light continues to go out, we need to be vigilant, not pout,
Or get angry about a dark time, as this isn’t for us, God’s design,
For that window soon may close, for God to use those He chose,
As God’s Light to pierce the dark, or used by Him as just a spark.
That spark that others may need, when The Truth is what we heed,
Letting the Spirit to channel concern, while others listen and learn,
To The Truth, God has taught us, as His Spirit we follow and trust,
Living our days solely for Him, as His Light in the darkness of sin.
There is plenty to get angry about, but, The Truth we must get out,
While things get darker my friend, for we are approaching the end,
The end of the time we live in, to share the Truth we’ve been given,
Being Christ’s Light of this world, His Truth is what we must herald.
Not man’s empty ways anymore, but, Truth that leads to The Door,
With that Door being Jesus Christ, Who offers all men Eternal Life,
Where darkness won’t have a part, when from this earth we depart,
To reign forever with the only King, who rules far above everything.
So as dark men seem to prevail, it’s The Eternal King, who we hail,
Who will cause darkness to cease, as He brings us Eternal Peace,
And our only duty here and now, isn’t to know every why and how,
But, point lost men to the place, so God’s Truth they too embrace.
(Copyright ©07/2009)
In The Dark
I wish the moonlight away
In the dark with thee I wish to play
Like stars in the dark night
None shall see we for many years
Behind many tears
We will be out of sight
In the dark our truth see
In the dark where souls be
In the dark thine love laden
The dark shy sweet maiden..
Her poetic fervent
my dark servant
my poetry
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kick
Hey, Miss Magdalene girl sympathy mind hey, Miss Magdalene girl power. Power off, yeah grant a flesh show meek inherit nothing but death song queen sex go-go moving like a bad dream promised so long ago blessed art thou among women is this easy come is this easy go mingled with fear you get what you wish, wish, wish, wish, wish Gabriel get out this is my Nazareth wicked joy trembling town wicked joy be a raging machine chosen worthy to explode a king a king, king, king, king, king, king, king, king drilling down deep inside heartache tests the pain girls on the bar swing around danger does the same Magdalene, Magdalene, Magdalene, Magdalene peace grants suspicious crashing like some animals southern terror claws scream
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Second Best
Here in the dark, O heart;
Alone with the enduring Earth, and Night,
And Silence, and the warm strange smell of clover;
Clear-visioned, though it break you; far apart
From the dead best, the dear and old delight;
Throw down your dreams of immortality,
O faithful, O foolish lover!
Here's peace for you, and surety; here the one
Wisdom - the truth! - 'All day the good glad sun
Showers love and labour on you, wine and song;
The greenwood laughs, the wind blows, all day long
Till night.' And night ends all things.
Then shall be
No lamp relumed in heaven, no voices crying,
Or changing lights, or dreams and forms that hover!
(And, heart, for all your sighing,
That gladness and those tears are over, over. . . .)
And has the truth brought no new hope at all,
Heart, that you're weeping yet for Paradise?
Do they still whisper, the old weary cries?
‘’Mid youth and song, feasting and carnival,
Through laughter, through the roses,as of old
Comes Death, on shadowy and relentless feet,
Death, unappeaseable by prayer or gold;
Death is the end, the end!’
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet
Death as a friend!
Exile of immortality, strongly wise,
Strain through the dark with undesirous eyes
To what may lie beyond it. Sets your star,
O heart, for ever! Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak. And the light,
Returning, shall give back the golden hours,
Ocean a windless level, Earth a lawn
Spacious and full of sunlit dancing-places,
And laughter, and music, and, among the flowers,
The gay child-hearts of men, and the child-faces
O heart, in the great dawn!
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Jesus You Are
You are higher than the highest heavens
You love is deeper than the deepest sea
Your mercy is beyond all comprehension
And your grace goes on eternally
You are the bread of life, the one true vine
You are the glorious gate for the sheep
You are the way, the truth and the life
And deep cries out to deep
You are master and lord and king of kings
You are worthy to be praised
Your the anointed one, the prince of peace
I will worship you all of my days
You are the ressurection and the life, oh lamb of God
You are the creator and ancient of days
Your the alpha and omega, beginning and end
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are the conquerer, creator, exalted one
You are victorious over death and sin
Your a father to the fatherless, faithful and true
You are this fire that burns deep within
You are my rock and my fortress, the foundation of life
You are the God that healeth thee
Your the lion of Judah, my lamb of God
You are the Christ that set me free
You are incorruptable, infallible the hope of mankind
You are the light that shines in the dark
Your majestic, omnipotent, eternal king
You are the lord over all of my heart
poem by Frank McEleny
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Dark and Light
All around me Darkness rolls
No Light shines through as it unfolds
Just as if the King foretold
A palace of pain and not of gold
Listen to him I did not
Put no trust in those Dark thoughts
Dark and Light must have fought
This answer is not what we sought
A huge mistake we have made
We did just what the King forebade
We crawled into that deep, Dark cave
In this pain we're forced to bathe
A warning I must give to you
Down to Earth the demons flew
And the King of Dark and Light
Will come and steal your soul tonight
2-23-8
poem by Chelsea Meigs
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Ears Of Corn
In the synagogues they pray with ears
of corn, and listen to the shadows’ sound,
because no still and silent voice for years
has whispered, and no glory is around.
Yet it is not blaspheming with the breath
to try recapturing was has been lost,
refusing to acknowledge that famed death
of God a great unglaublich scholar glossed.
The evidence that He once lived is soft,
but those who pray don’t care it isn’t hard,
or that a great philosopher has scoffed
about what can’t be found by Scotland Yard,
for by their prayers they choose to shame the dark,
dark places where the doubting mind would mourn,
providing an occasion for their spark
to find an Alien hiding in the corn.
Inspired by Dylan Thomas’s “A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London”
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
The majesty and burning of the child's death.
I shall not murder
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth.
Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Dark Death
Everyone goes through dark death
It's painful, cruel, and somehow blue
Everyone suffers until last breath
Somewhere the will find a clue
Death is something you can't escape
Sooner or later you'll have to face it
Death is scary and dark like a black cape
You can't see it coming, it'll just hit
Dark death is sometimes sweet
people like it because it takes away he misery
People shoot, hit, and beat
They'll rot away like celery
Dark death is sometimes cool
but it's mostly always cruel
poem by Maria Lara
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The Guardian and BloodRose
BloodRose,
Rose of my love,
My love for Dark moon,
Dark as my heart,
Black as my soul,
And gave me my rose.
The rose of blood,
With petals soft and black,
Never as a rose so beautiful,
Grown not in light,
But under a dark moon lit sky.
Guardian,
Yes a guardian of BloodRose,
With teeth long and sharp,
Claws hard as diamonds,
Scales as dark as night.
My dear sweet guardian,
Guardian black as my heart,
Fire in your eyes,
Shadows in your soul,
A dragon of the dark moon.
A single rose,
With petals so fare,
As dark as my heart,
I now hold in my hand,
The rose of blood.
You are my darkness,
Fear of this love,
This love for you,
Love for darkness,
The cold shadows in my heart
That makes me yearn for you.
Now as you lay dying,
I hold a single rose,
The rose you gave me,
And as I hold it tight,
The thorns slice my hand,
Covered with blood,
My blood.
I have one fear,
The fear of death,
Symbol of my lost love,
Rose as dark as me,
Laying in a pool of blood,
Blood from me.
As I lay dying,
I remember my name,
BloodRose,
I am the rose of blood,
And I died of my own creation.
A creation of perfect beauty,
Petals dark black,
Thorns like small daggers,
Grown from my love,
My love for a dragon,
A dragon as dark as my heart.
Even in my death,
I think of you,
And the rose you gave me,
The rose that killed me,
The Rose of Blood.
poem by Nicolette Gonzalez
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I Begin Again
and so i begin again
from the cold winds of my desert nights
where there is no moon where there are no stars in the skies
i rest on the sands and lay my head there
waiting for tomorrow
tonight i must again think of you
the face that makes my blood move like running water
on dried river beds
on emptied wells
on fields cracked by too much dryness
tonight i recall again
the first kiss from your innocent lips
your soft hands holding my body
your words of love comforting me to always move on
and always be strong and confident
deep in this lonely night
i close my eyes
i enter another world before tomorrow comes
this world of dreams
where we kiss and make love again for
another beginning
it is dark and so silent and then the desert begins to sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All
All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.
What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.
It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.
Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.
Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.
Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.
poem by Praveen Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
The majesty and burning of the child's death.
I shall not murder
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth.
Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.
poem by Dylan Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Colloquy: (For M. W.)
'When you get to Heaven, seek and find my boy.
Mother him!' 'Until you come?' 'I shall never come.
Earth was good enough for me who had all my joy
In my Love, my Light of home.
'But to him be given, in overflowing measure,
All the joys your Heaven can give if your God be just!
He, my boy slain in his youth to serve some mad king's pleasure
And his dreams and hopes in dust.'
'How shall I know him where so many boys are?
Multitudes and multitudes ever they increase.'
'Oh, my boy is young and tall, with bird-russet hair
And quiet eyes of peace.
'He who was killed in a quarrel not his own!
All his days he had good-will to his fellow-men.
Oh, your God is kind and just, shall He not atone
And the dark ways be made plain?
'Seek my son and find him, so he shall not miss
Me, his mother-comrade, through his length of days.'
'Oh, but he would turn from a strange woman's kiss
And ask where his mother delays.
'So be up and going for the way's not long!
God who kissed His Mother dear, a Babe in Nazareth,
Knows how they need mother-love, the dear and precious young,
In the new Life where is no Death.'
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The journey...
Death is not the end of lifes adventure
It is merely a confirmation of lifes innocence
In our youth death is one of our darkest fears
With each breath we outrun the spectre of death
But death stalks us at every turn of life
With age comes wisdom and the truth becomes clear
Death is not the end but is just a comma in our journey
It can bring an end to pain and mark a new beginning
For none can halt our return to this mortal coil
Death is merely a moment standing still for all eternity
When we say goodbye to those who share our journey
Just remember this is not the beginning of the end
It is merely the end of the beginning, the journey goes on...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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