Endow the Living—with the Tears
521
Endow the Living—with the Tears—
You squander on the Dead,
And They were Men and Women—now,
Around Your Fireside—
Instead of Passive Creatures,
Denied the Cherishing
Till They—the Cherishing deny—
With Death's Ethereal Scron—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Related quotes
Men make the mistake of thinking that because women can't see the sense in violence, they must be passive creatures. It's just not true. In one important way, at least, men are the passive sex. Given a choice, they will always opt for the status quo. They hate change of any kind, and they fight against it constantly. On the other hand, what women want is stability, which when you stop to think about it is a very different animal.
quote by Eric Lustbader
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taking up the fair Ideal
428
Taking up the fair Ideal,
Just to cast her down
When a fracture—we discover—
Or a splintered Crown—
Makes the Heavens portable—
And the Gods—a lie—
Doubtless—"Adam"&md ash;scowled at Eden—
For his perjury!
Cherishing—our pool Ideal—
Till in purer dress—
We behold her—glorified—
Comforts—sear ch—like this—
Till the broken creatures—
We adored—for whole—
Stains—all washed—
Transfigured—mended—
Meet us—with a smile—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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All that is worth cherishing begins in the heart, not the head.
quote by Suzanne Chapin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A resilient people cherishing liberty and equality and the rule of law will endure.
quote by Nick Rahall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For too long, we have focused on our differences - in our politics and backgrounds, in our race and beliefs - rather than cherishing the unity and pride that binds us together.
Willow
Willow
Cherishing arms
Swaying within breezes
Loving, carefree, tender, peaceful
Amazing
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Wife and Husband
Nurtured, sheltered and loved
is the way I feel
whenever you are with me
I love you and you love me
the feeling gives me ecstasy
I believe you and you’ve believed in me
for all the time you’ve known me
Living with you
has been a dream come true
Cherishing every moment
I live with you
Wedded life has been bliss
You’ve given me a home, a son,
and an angel too,
A lovely daughter
for me and you...
A family to call my own,
I’m your blessed wife...
Having you as my husband
has been a ‘blessing in disguise’ for me!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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LET us honour the King by cherishing respectful Sentiments concerning him; speaking of him with Affection, with Esteem and Reverence; and by promoting a like Spirit and Conduct in others.
quote by Charles Inglis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Lost Children
The Lost Children Nov 6,2010
Taken, lost, misplaced from our minds, our souls
Culture, family, our way of life, ourselves.
Taken up drinking, drugs, abuse, being abused
Self- hatred and death.
Dealing with hate, uncontrolled anger, displace anger,
self-pity. Not knowing where it should go
and why it's still here. Oh, we know why.
Life, once giving, sharing, the telling of stories of great
Warriors, chiefs and of great women that held them together.
Stories of hunting, and cherishing mother earth,
Visions of it all have now become blurred.
Days of hardships, imprisonment, within us can never be expressed.
My grandmother and her family are products of people
Lost.
poem by Jill Laughlin
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 03
Knowledge is for the cherishing of religion, not for amassing wealth.
Who sold abstinence, knowledge and piety
Filled a granary but burnt it clean away.
If either man or woman would realize that the full power of personal beauty, it must be by cherishing noble thoughts and hopes and purposes; by having something to do and something to live for that is worthy of humanity, and which, by expanding and symmetry to the body which contains it.
Cherishing, Tasting
Silent.
Grey and pinkish.
I take a deep breath in of half of an unlit cigarette,
Placing the blade to me soft tan skin
A prick!
Then a high.
I stare out of the enclosure of the slide,
Cars passing, dog walkers, children
Unaware that I sit in a childs playground,
Cherishing crimson, tasting charcoal.
I think about all.
My life, my dreams, the voices all around,
Clouded sky bringing tears to match my own.
Is this what it feels,
To be truelly,
Alone?
poem by Rue Kendra
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 38
A friend whom people have been cherishing during a lifetime they must not suddenly insult.
It takes a stone many a year to become a ruby.
Beware not to break it in a moment with a stone.
Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXIII: Denial
Deny it with smile, deny it with silence
Deny it with elegance, deny it with distraction
Deny it with anger, deny it with challenge
Deny it with promise, deny it with comfort
Deny it with tear, deny it with emotion
Deny it with effort, deny it with cruelty
Deny it with forget, deny it with indifferent
Deny it with joke, deny it with lie
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The First Time You Denied My Touch
The first time you denied my touch...
I knew it was getting closer to over,
For us.
The first time you denied my touch...
Our relationship had ran out of 'fizz'.
What did it?
Did you know I was just expecting sex without love?
Then when I'm done,
I'm gone?
You knew that!
You had to.
I was taking you for granted,
And this you knew!
The first time you denied my touch...
It was me.
Not you.
And I knew it too well!
The first time you denied my touch.
I felt an ache slowly creeping up inside,
Of me.
I tried to breathe soft and slow,
So you wouldn't know it.
The first time you denied my touch.
My tears came to fall.
And that was not easy....
Faking a rest,
After a grueling crawl.
'Thank you.
But no...
I am not preparing for the Olympics.
I'm just laying here to meditate on the ground,
For a moment.'
The first time you denied my touch.
Love was not there to respond.
The first time you denied my touch,
I knew you felt it too inside...
I was gone!
And I knew it then,
I had been gone too long!
Too long for you to deny me,
Of what's mine!
'EXCUSE ME?
Repeat that! '
The first time you denied my touch...
I knew it was getting closer to over,
For us.
The first time you denied my touch...
Our relationship had ran out of 'fizz'.
What did it?
Did you know I was just expecting sex without love?
Then when I'm done,
I'm gone?
'That's not what you said.
But you're getting to the point.
I'm in the bed and going to sleep.
What you do with your needs,
That's up to you.'
We just need time to get our booty better!
'EXCUSE ME?
Repeat that! '
The first time you denied my touch,
I knew you felt it too inside...
I was gone!
And I knew it then,
I had been gone too long!
Too long for you to deny me,
Of what's mine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem For Mr And Mrs...
I have never met you officially!
And my wife didn't know what to say!
When I ask her, where are your parents?
So, I can give you a hard hands shake
And tell you, thank you for a beautiful daughter.
death came and denied you the chance.
I haven't met you
Death came! Just before I can,
Tell you that 'I am intending to marry your daughter'
Death came! Just before!
i can give you her lobola
And ask you to count it.
death came and denied you the opportunity
I wanted you to be there,
On our engagement day and our wedding day
To share with us, the feeling and excitement
Cuddle and chuckles of the day.
death came and denied you the moment
I wish we could have met
Sit around the table
Drink cup of coffee
And talk about soccer
Laugh about it, dispute about it
death came and denied you the opportunity
Now one day these children will want you!
They will ask me and my wife about you
One day they will want all those old stories and tales
As grandparents do to their grandchildren
death came and denied them the opportunity
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Babushka
THOU whose sunny heart outglows
Arctic snows;
Russia's hearth-fire, cherishing
Courage almost perishing;
Torch that beacons oversea
Till a world is at thy knee;
Babushka the Belovèd,
What Czar can exile thee?
Sweet, serene, unswerving soul,
To thy goal
Pressing on such mighty pinions
Tyrants quake for their dominions
And devise yet heavier key,
Deeper cell to prison thee,
Babushka the Belovèd,
Thyself art Liberty.
Though thy martyr body, old,
Chains may hold,
Clearer still thy voice goes ringing
Over steppe and mountain, bringing,
Holy mother of the free,
Millions more thy sons to be.
Babushka the Belovèd,
What death can silence thee?
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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My Heart Goes Out
My heart goes out to my Creator in love
Who gave me Death, as end and remedy.
All living creatures come to quiet Death
For him to eat up their activity
And give them nothing, which is what they want although
When they are living they do not think so.
poem by Stevie Smith
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