Related quotes: That was the day they...

The Killing

That was the day they killed the Son of God
On a squat hill-top by Jerusalem.
Zion was bare, her children from their maze
Sucked by the dream of curiosity
Clean through the gates. The very halt and blind
Had somehow got themselves up to the hill.
After the ceremonial preparation,
The scourging, nailing, nailing against the wood,
Erection of the main-trees with their burden,
While from the hill rose an orchestral wailing,
They were there at last, high up in the soft spring day.
We watched the writhings, heard the moanings, saw
The three heads turning on their separate axles
Like broken wheels left spinning. Round his head
Was loosely bound a crown of plaited thorn
That hurt at random, stinging temple and brow
As the pain swung into its envious circle.
In front the wreath was gathered in a knot
That as he gazed looked like the last stump left
Of a death-wounded deer's great antlers. Some
Who came to stare grew silent as they looked,
Indignant or sorry. But the hardened old
And the hard-hearted young, although at odds
From the first morning, cursed him with one curse,
Having prayed for a Rabbi or an armed Messiah
And found the Son of God. What use to them
Was a God or a Son of God? Of what avail
For purposes such as theirs? Beside the cross-foot,
Alone, four women stood and did not move
All day. The sun revolved, the shadows wheeled,
The evening fell. His head lay on his breast,
But in his breast they watched his heart move on
By itself alone, accomplishing its journey.
Their taunts grew louder, sharpened by the knowledge
That he was walking in the park of death,
Far from their rage. Yet all grew stale at last,
Spite, curiosity, envy, hate itself.
They waited only for death and death was slow
And came so quietly they scarce could mark it.
They were angry then with death and death's deceit.

I was a stranger, could not read these people
Or this outlandish deity. Did a God
Indeed in dying cross my life that day
By chance, he on his road and I on mine?

poem by Edwin Muir
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It's Death Again

It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'

The Reign of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Fresh Endeavour

So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.

I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death and I

When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.

A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.

My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.

When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –

Death and I so bound.

D eath Crawl

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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.

The March of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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.

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Night Close

Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned -
No one cried or mourned.

Scorned by all
- My fellow race -
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.

Line of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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.’

Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
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Death death
Death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Mark R. Slaughter

Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty

And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation

Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy

They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes

I rot
(They fade)

To be the plant
(They'll water)

I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter

Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind

That I of soul
Remain eternal

Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot

Flirts like a ballerina

STOPS

Wonders of the world

My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future

I'll wait
For his appraisal

A Trail of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death, My Friend

Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.

Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?

Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!

Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Tribute to Gladstone

Lift up your heads; in life, in death,
God knoweth his head was high;
Quit we the coward's broken breath,
Who watched a strong man die.

If ye must say "No more his peer
Cometh: the flag is furled,"
Stand not too near him; lest we hear
That slander on the world

The good green earth he loved and trod
Is still, with many a scar,
Writ in the chronicles of God
A giant-bearing star.

He fell: but Britain's banner swings
Above his sunken crown;
Black Death shall have his toil of kings
Before the cross goes down.

O young ones of a darker day,
In Art's wan colours clad,
Whose very love and hate are grey,
Whose very sin is sad,

Pass on: one agony long-drawn
Was merrier than your mirth;
When hand in hand came death and dawn
And spring was on the earth.

poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death, Death And Death

I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.

I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.

I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.

poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
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To Them That Mourn

Lift up your heads: in life, in death,
God knoweth his head was high.
Quit we the coward's broken breath
Who watched a strong man die.

If we must say, 'No more his peer
Cometh; the flag is furled.'
Stand not too near him, lest he hear
That slander on the world.

The good green earth he loved and trod
Is still, with many a scar,
Writ in the chronicles of God,
A giant-bearing star.

He fell: but Britain's banner swings
Above his sunken crown.
Black death shall have his toll of kings
Before that cross goes down.

Once more shall move with mighty things
His house of ancient tale,
Where kings whose hands were kissed of kings
Went in: and came out pale.

O young ones of a darker day,
In art's wan colours clad,
Whose very love and hate are grey -
Whose very sin is sad.

Pass on: one agony long-drawn
Was merrier than your mirth,
When hand-in-hand came death and dawn,
And spring was on the earth.

poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tribute to Gladstone

Lift up your heads; in life, in death,
God knoweth his head was high;
Quit we the coward's broken breath,
Who watched a strong man die.

If ye must say 'No more his peer
Cometh: the flag is furled,'
Stand not too near him; lest we hear
That slander on the world

The good green earth he loved and trod
Is still, with many a scar,
Writ in the chronicles of God
A giant-bearing star.

He fell: but Britain's banner swings
Above his sunken crown;
Black Death shall have his toil of kings
Before the cross goes down.

O young ones of a darker day,
In Art's wan colours clad,
Whose very love and hate are grey,
Whose very sin is sad,

Pass on: one agony long-drawn
Was merrier than your mirth;
When hand in hand came death and dawn
And spring was on the earth.

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Eyes of Death

I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death

poem by Jade DragonHeart
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Punishment

There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.

Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.

And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?

And will He care...?

'Tis down to Him.

Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sinner's Visit from Death

Whence the reek, the sombre clouds?
Those of billows gargantuan;
Of storms immense, blushing black,
Wishing sought of me to assess?

And have I passed? I have?
Hence I hear a knock on oak;
Unwelcomed, dullened cloak
Flowing dourly - it was a bitter breeze.

‘Have you mulled my sins? ' I ask.
‘Have you seen my impotence -
Though observe destruction at mine hands?
Forgive me, I am but Man.'

‘And are not sinners forgiven? ' I excuse,
‘Hence forgiveness avoids me of Hell?
Must my Demons of Sin revisit eternally
And reflect back on me to suffer well

The synergy of vengeance and wrath?
Are you not now pitying of my terror?
See my withering, regretful flesh -
Feel you not my tardy repentance? '

But Death just focused his stare,
That which pierced my pulseless heart,
For I was empty of remorse in all my years.
He knew that - and led me away.

Death death death
Death death death death death
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Death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Beldame of Death

A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!

I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.

I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.

Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.

A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…

'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '

Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:

'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!

Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '

I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...

On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.

Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death’s Too Near

Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!

Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!

Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!

Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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

poem by A.J Smith
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i Saw a Woman

i saw a woman
Dancing on her grave
She smiled and sang
La la lee
La la lo
La la lee
La la lo

She picked up Death's cat
By tail & twirled the thing
La la lee
La la lo

Death watched curriously
How this thing could be
La la lee
He scratched his head
La la lo

The woman looked back at Death
And flipped him off
Her skeleton bones
Were white as snow
Now her dance
Was beginning to slow

Death thought now
Was her time to go

Instead
She skinned the cat
And made a dress
Put it on
And picked up her song
La la lee

Death's eyes popped out
At what he saw next
The woman's bones
Grew new flesh

Her hair combed and tapered in curls
Death ran at her with fury
But tripped along
An old tomebstone
La la lo

Death on the ground
She picked up her dance
And danced on Death

Bone by bone
She trampled him in the ground

The last thing he saw
Was the woman's child
And he sang and danced
La la lee
Along with a whole
Party of bones
La la lo

poem by Deci Hernandez
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

The Killing

Related quotes

It's Death Again

A Fresh Endeavour

Death and I

Disingenuousness

In Death, My Final Part

Night Close

Death, Inevitable Death

Mark R. Slaughter

Death, My Friend

Tribute to Gladstone

Death, Death And Death

To Them That Mourn

Tribute to Gladstone

Eyes of Death

Punishment

Sinner's Visit from Death

Beldame of Death

Death’s Too Near

Death is when....

i Saw a Woman

En.Citatepedia^®.ro