We Are Born To Death
We Are Born To Death
We are born to death
So cherish every moment
You receive of life
Edwin Tanguma © 4/3/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Maybe A Day Will Come
Maybe A Day Will Come
If time were but a test
It would be you
Who'd stand above the rest
This much is true
When I say I love you
Its from my heart
Without you I am blue
I'm torn apart
Maybe a day will come
For us to be
Through time I have grown numb
One day we'll see
Together we'll make one
Along with we
He'll be our shining sun
Just wait and see
Edwin Tanguma © 8/20/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Pessimism for Babies
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We scream—torn from the womb in discontent.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
No matter the calmant the doctor tries,
A guttural growl bellows as we vent.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We are helpless infants, forced to comply—
Forced to understand a life of torment.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
Our faces beam bright red. We are untied—
Cut from the cord that provides nourishment.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We are ripped out by our feet—held up high.
We hang there—exposed and indecent.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
The saline streams of tears soak in our eyes.
The first moment of life makes us lament.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Every Time I Think Of You
Every Time I Think Of You
Every time I think of you
My heart begins to ache
Who knows how much more of this
My broken heart can take
I think of you both night and day
You are even in my dreams
And at times my heart does wonder
Do you even hear my screams
I have always been told that love is
The most beautiful thing in life
Will I ever have enough courage
To ask you will you be my wife
So I thought I would write you this poem
To let you know my life is a mess
Just to ask you if you will marry me
I pray to God that you will say yes
Edwin Tanguma © 8/31/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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No Se Que Hacer Con Tigo (Spanish And English Versions)
No Se Que Hacer Con Tigo (Spanish And English Versions)
No se que hacer con tigo
La muerte no trai umbligo
No tengo nigun amigo
Que mas quieres que te digo
I Don't Know What To Do With You (English Version?
I don't know what to do with you
Death does not have a belly button
I don't have a single friend
What more do you want me to say to you
Edwin Tanguma (10/10/2011)
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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3 Musketeers (Free Verse) The Candy: (
3 Musketeers (Free Verse) The Candy: (
I liked to eat you in the morning
And I would eat you late at night
When you were in my mouth
Your taste was oh so right
Now when you're in my mouth
I think you taste like shit
Your taste is oh so terrible
It makes me want to spit
How I will miss the days
When you were my best friend
Now I'm sorry I must tell you
Our relationship now must end
Edwin Tanguma @ 3/10/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Born To Be Loved By You
Borne again.
Because have you at just being borne again.
At last I feel that Im alive and more.
This is the moment Ive waited for.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Born to walk with you.born to talk with you.
I was born for you.
Born to be with you, only you.
Born to be loved by you.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born to be loved by you
(you and only you) born to be with only you.
I look at you and all at once I know that dreams come true.
For there you are the other part of me.
I have found my destiny.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Right or wrong for you.weak or strong for you.
Faithful or untrue
Born chained forever and far beyond.
Born to be loved by you and only you
No one else will do.
Heart and soul,born to be loved
Born to be loved.born to be loved by you.
(you and only you,born to be with only you)
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby..
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unlike Any Other Being
Every one is born in the flesh and they try to live their very best.
But from the moment we begin, our heart friend is tainted with sin.
We are born with a human nature and a cut above other creatures.
Unlike any other being we have been made in The Creator’s image.
In order to have Christ like love, one needs to be born from above.
We’re born with original sin and from the Garden that’s how it’s been.
And at the moment we’re conceived we are targeted to be deceived.
Adam’s sin was passed on to you, that’s every single Gentile and Jew.
And since we come from Adam and Eve, we too, can become deceived.
Friend Satan comes to deceive but Christ gives you power to believe.
He gives freely to all who believe, a gift by faith you just receive.
Satan only wants you to destroy; while Christ comes to give you joy.
Believe on The Lord Jesus Christ and you will receive Eternal Life.
And on the way to Eternal Life you become a New Creature in Christ.
God’s Mercy you can not win if you desire to continue a life of sin.
And being born spiritually dead, a dark eternity is what lies ahead.
But Christ as the second Adam friend provided for us a better end.
When we were children of the night Jesus came to guide us into Light.
And Christ came down to this strife to lead Believers into New Life.
A life of sin is empty and dead, so why not have New Life instead.
Born in a sinful darkened state, death is everyone’s ultimate fate.
Sin was cast out of Paradise and God will cause its future demise.
But to all men who are truly wise, The Lord has given spiritual eyes.
Eyes to see with Godly sight, that all men need The Light of Christ.
(Copyright ©08/2004)
Belief is the religion
No life could be born
Without the fusion of sperm and ovum.
No life could end with out a death.
Christ was born, Krishn was born,
Rama was born, without a sperm.
No one born could escape death.
Christ vanished, Krishn vanished,
Rama vanished, without a death.
We are told to believe and we do.
It is called religion
08.10.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Daughter of Death
I was born
Born to the blood of angels
Born through the veil of a storm
Born without love inside of me
Born with a need to perform
Born out of vengence
Born out of scorn
Born out of hatred
out of love torn
Born with a mission
Born with a drive
Born with a need
with a need to sruvive.
Now it's time to show you what i'm really about
no more pretentions;
No more frothing at the mouth
there's no use of hiding
all my sins deep inside
I'll wear them on my shoulder like a badge of pride
Cuz i'm the daughter of death
from my very first breath
i'm the daughter of death
blood red as macbeth
living a filthy mess
i'm a daughter of death
just a daughter of death
I was
Raised from buring ashes
Raised with tragic crime
Raised from cries of chaos
Raised on borrowed time
Raised by the darkness
Rasied by the night
Raised by the claws of fright
Raised to be hated
Riased to be loved
Riased to be doomed
By the powers above
poem by Brittany Cook
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I Will Miss All Of You
I Will Miss All Of You
I have grown weary
Of writing poetry ‘til dawn
I don't think that you all will miss me
When I am finally gone
Poetry is my love
And I will miss her much
But when it comes to poems
I have written a bunch
I will miss all of you
Whom I call my friends
If it were not for you all
I would never have picked up my pens
Maybe one day I will come back
To play with you all with our words
For there will always be the many
Who think that our poetry is for the birds
Edwin Tanguma 2/28/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Born Alone
Born alone to die alone
In between family is grown
And so many ties ar borne
Before it is all flown
On wings of death
Born alone to die alone
In between many hats are worn
Some to rejoice some to mourn
Before it is all blown
In winds of death
Born alone to die alone
In between unique spirit is shown
On the streets or on the throne
some to relive some to moan
in arms of death
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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When You Grow Old
When You Grow Old
I'm not as spry
As I once was
That's what happens
When you grow old
Edwin Tanguma © 2/10/2012
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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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…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign 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 death death death death
Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What More Is There To Do
What More Is There To Do
What more is there to do
What more is there to say
At times poetry seems
Like it is mere child's play
Edwin Tanguma (10/9/2011)
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Death - The Gift of Life
There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life
We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
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Grandma, I Never Knew You
I never knew you
You are my grandmother.
I get mad at God
For not giving me a chance
To know you.
You died ten years
Before I was born.
It breaks my heart
Every time I think
That I will never get
The chance to know you.
I look at your picture that hangs
Almost everyday.
I wonder if I have your eyes.
I wonder if I have your laugh.
I wonder if I have your smile.
I wonder if I have your nose.
I wonder if I have anything of you.
I guess I will never know
I guess I will never get to see you.
Death is the most tragic thing in life
Death is hard on me now than I was younger.
Death is what I have inside
Thinking of everyone that I have lost.
Death is forever
Death is longer than an eternity
Death is permanent
Death is a scar that never goes away.
Death is what I feel everyday
Death is what has to be.
Death is what is happening everyday.
Death is what no one knows for sure.
Death is what everyone goes through.
Death is the reason why I am the way I am
Death is what I fear…
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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X’mas
Born was a child in a manger;
Born was the son of God, the Father;
Born was the love of the Maker;
Born was for men, a Redeemer.
Born was a baby boy, a king;
Born was on earth a prophet great;
Born was the love of God in human form;
Born was a Messiah.
Born was a son of a carpenter;
Born was the king of Jews;
Born was the living God as flesh;
Born was a Savior.
Born was a babe, who brought,
Joy and peace to the world;
Born was a babe on a bed of hay,
As angels choirs kept singing on.
Born was the spotless Lamb of God
Who was to die on the cross;
Born was a divine child,
From the Virgin Mary’s womb!
Born was Lord Jesus Christ,
Who paid the price for our sins,
And by His death and resurrection,
Made it possible for sinners too,
To go to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2006
poem by John Celes
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No individual soul
Which- the soul or body-
Is the cause of one
To be holy or lowly?
Which- the soul or the body-
Is the cause for the king
To down and the traitor to crown?
Which- the soul or the body-
Is the seat of genes
That transmits features?
Soul and body are co-born
Ever since when life was born.
At no stage, be birth, embryo,
Zygote or gametes that fuse,
Was the life born for the soul
To enter the body at birth,
And part at death.
Death is no more than
A death of a twig of the tree.
28.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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“death”
“ DEATH I SWHEN ALL SEEMS LOST
DEATH IS WHEN YOU HAVE TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO YOUR LOVED ONES
DEATH IS WHEN ALL YOU SEE ARE TEARS
DEATH IS WHEN YOU JUST DON’T CARE ‘
DEATH IS WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE EVERYTHING IS FALLING ON TOP OF YOU
DEATH IS WHEN THAT PERSON IS RE-BORN
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING YOUR TIME IS UP
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING I NEED YOU”
poem by Yeslin Salazar
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