Neither Beginning, Nor End!
birth and death are the same experience,
seen from different vantage points!
neither is finite...
neither beginning, nor end!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Death is as casual-and often as unexpected-as birth. It is as difficult to define grief as joy. Each is finite. Each will fade.
Groove Dub
[ music: john lombardo/lyric: natalie merchant ]
Imitate that soured old song
There is no individuality
Only guises
Shades of
Nonconformity
There is no individuality
Selling vantage points
Low rate
There is no individuality
Questions ancient
No words claimed
Perform motions borrowed
Thoughts following
Ima tima ima tima intima
Dation
Respected
Head-he-go-round-men
Gesture display
Customer
Limits appeal
Media dictates the latest
Role
Totalitarian
Motions borrowed
Selling vantage points
Low rate
For you
Media begged
Suffered
Numbers
Pain
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every existence above a certain rank has its singular points; the higher the rank the more of them. At these points, influences whose physical magnitude is too small to be taken account of by a finite being may produce results of the greatest importance.
quote by James C. Maxwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Death
tell me why you fear death,
you call it the end.
an enternal void of no escape,
a pit of pain and sorrow.
quit showing such ignorance an fear,
cowarding in a corner as you cry,
'please leave me be death.'
how it sickens me.
everything has a beginning and an end,
life begins with birth,
and ends with death.
so tell me why death is allowed to be enternal,
when birth is so short.
poem by Sebastian Awa
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fighting Death
Death follows birth; does birth follow birth?
Birth to death, journeys have ups and down.
What is the status between death and birth?
Why must you fight death if no-rebirth is bliss?
(15.03.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Birth and death
.
Death is certain for birth.
Is birth certain for death?
Post-birth is pre-death.
It is like go around and return.
Post-death is pre-birth.
It is like stay and remain.
Birth and death is better
Than no birth at all
23.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Birth Is Beginning
BIRTH IS BEGINNING
Birth is beginning,
Hope is its name-
A child gives meaning to the world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Fence
Now the stone house on the lake front is finished and the
workmen are beginning the fence.
The palings are made of iron bars with steel points that
can stab the life out of any man who falls on them.
As a fence, it is a masterpiece, and will shut off the rabble
and all vagabonds and hungry men and all wandering
children looking for a place to play.
Passing through the bars and over the steel points will go
nothing except Death and the Rain and To-morrow.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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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!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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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Wealth, in terms of dollars and so forth, could be counted up, because dollars were finite. It doesn't make any difference how many dollars you have-at a certain point you only have dollars. You start with finite, you end with finite.
quote by Michael Nesmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You speak to me and say
Cherish
The brilliance of the day,
Come what may
The warmth descending from our sun
Which coddles each and everyone
The breath of life on this planet earth
Until our death, from our inconsequential birth
Thank you, Oh great uncaused first cause,
Whoever you are, wherever you may be,
Because
I am so glad to be around
To hear each and every sound
See each and every sight
Experience every single day and every single night
To breathe each and every breath
From my birth until my death
And waste not one single second
Of your great gift - this is my bond.
poem by Terry Brewer
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To mourn the death?
Leaving home for school is a death.
Leaving school for service is a death.
Retiring from service is a death.
Every parting is a death.
Every meeting is a birth
Every death leads you to a birth.
Every birth leads thus to a death.
As many entrances as there are exits,
Till the arrival of corporal death,
Beyond which we have no evidence
17.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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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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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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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.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
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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Death And Birth
Death and birth should dwell not near together:
Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
Death and birth.
Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether
Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth:
Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
Death and birth.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Beginning and The End
The beginning and the end
Every moment the beginning and the end
Every breath the beginning and the end
Every thought the beginning end the end
Every feeling the beginning and the end
Every choice the beginning and the end
Every action he beginning and the end
Every breath the beginning and the end
The beginning and the end
Always together the beginning and the end
Nothing separates the beginning and the end
It is all one the beginning and the end
poem by Maria Manias
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Mystic Journey: Gravity 1
seen through hubble's scope* the orion
nebula resembles a bloody moth sticking
to incandescent lamp. thousands of solar
systems wide from wing-tip to tip it hides
motionless, held in the frozen aloneness
of deep space. hives of galaxies, fuzzy
fireflies caught in the endless nocturnal
background of amateur entomologist's photo,
complete the frame. time records an instant
of time that takes place only this moment.
are we too upturned butterflies, undersides
of formaldehyde wings exposed to erosion
by elements, cocooned coffins of decaying
flesh? nothing before, nothing after?
birth and death but end points on a finite
line? or are birth and death opposing
forces on an endlessly repeating circle
spinning and spinning about aimlessly,
south and north poles on a compass
tucked away in a lost mariner's pocket?
one lifetime is a thousand too short
to learn the answers to every question,
but instinct has a notion. nothing more
than the memory of deaths, to have it
we must have died countless times before.
so so much for a finite line. and
the main problem with a perfect circle-
it forgets the habits of evolution.
that's why i favor a looping spiral.
but what do sciences say of Man?
how old are we? were particles from which
we are made buzzing when the big roar
began? were our elementary atoms stitched
together before the sun was a child star?
the day our DNA graduated and became code
were the hapless dinosaurs no more than
molecules of clay mixed in mud? on the road
from amoeba to angel, did stellar evolution
design Man the crown of earthly nature?
having invested so much effort and time
in the production of our architecture,
would Kosmic Mind suffer any mind's oblivion
at the random chance of a clogged aorta?
viewed from the bottom-up are we not senior
to the dinosaur on nature's calendar?
seen from top-down does the magna carta
of Kosmic Law not bind nature to conserving
every speck of self-conscious vitality?
* Hubble telescope
poem by Doug Bentley
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