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Dirge

(Brisbane)

'A little Soldier of the Army of the Night'
BURY him without a word!
No appeal to death;
Only the call of the bird
And the blind spring's breath.
Nature slays ten, yet the one
Reaches but to a part
Of what's to be done, to be sung.
Keep we a proud heart!
Let us not glose her waste
With lies and dreams;
Fawn on her wanton haste,
Say it but seems.
Comrades, with faces unstirred,
Scorning grief's dole,
Though with him, with him lies interred
Our heart and soul,
Bury him without a word!
No appeal to death;
Only the call of the bird
And the blind spring's breath.

poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bury My Soul

if i died today
it would take my pain away
no more in the way
with no more to say

so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul

take my mind away from the misery
take my heart away from the mystery

so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul

i looked into your eyes
and i saw all the lies
my hate is now my fate
the more i try
the more i die
the more i die inside

so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul

i left to rest my soul
i buried my heart in the dark hole
turn the page
begin the new chapter
i surrender
i surrender my soul

so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
bury my soul
bury my soul

poem by Bobby Butterfield
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Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee

Indian legislation's on the desk of the do right congressman
Now he don't know much about the issues so he picks up the phone
And asks the advice of the senator out in indian country
A darling of the energy companies their ripping off
What's left of the reservation
I learned the safety rule
I don't know who to thank
Don't stand between the reservation
And the corporate bank
They're sending federal tanks
It isn't nice but it's reality
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Deep in the earth
I said cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
They got these energy companies
Who want to take the land
And they got churches by the dozens
Trying to guide our hands
And turn our mother earth
Over to pollution war and greed
Well
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
I said deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Won't you cover me with your pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
They got the federal marshalls
We get the covert spies
We get the liars by fire
We get the fbi
They lie in court and get nailed
And still leonard peltier goes off to jail
(the bullets don't match the gun)
Bury my heart at wounded knee
An eighth of the reservation
Bury my heart at wounded knee
It was transferred in secret
Bury my heart at wounded knee
We got your murder and intimidation
Bury my heart at wounded knee
My girlfriend anna may
Talked about uranium
Her head was full of bullets
And her body dumped
The fbi cut off her hands
And told us she died of exposure
Yeah right
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Oh deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Won't you cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Talk about a revolution
We had the gold rush wars
Why didn't we learn to crawl?
And now our history gets written in a liar's scrawl
They tell me " honey you can still be an indian
Down at the y on saturday night''
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
I said deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
And cover me with your pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart
It was an eighth of the reservation
Bury my heart
It was transferred in secret
Bury my heart
Got your murder, murder, murder and intimidation
Bury me
Bury me
Bury me
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart

song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Laughters, and My Music!

Young laughters, and my music! Aye till now
The voice can reach no blending minors near;
'Tis the bird's trill because the spring is here
And spring means trilling on a blossomy bough;
'Tis the spring joy that has no why or how,
But sees the sun and hopes not nor can fear--
Spring is so sweet and spring seems all the year.
Dear voice, the first-come birds but trill as thou.

Oh music of my heart, be thus for long:
Too soon the spring bird learns the later song;
Too soon a sadder sweetness slays content
Too soon! There comes new light on onward day,
There comes new perfume o'er a rosier way:
Comes not again the young spring joy that went.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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#1 Zero

Listen now, let me speak
I will be the dog at your feet
And come along when you call
Be the little bird in your straw and sing you a song
I'll be there to take the fall
Though you tread upon me for no reason at all
Chorus
But just when you think you've left me blind
I will keep you in the corner of my eye
I will never leave your side
Though you call me your number one zero
your nevermind
I'll be your king, I'll be your pawn
I will builid a pedestal and put you upon it
Chorus
But just when you think you've left me blind
I'll be creeping right up behind
Cause if I need to
I will keep you in the corner of my eye
corner of my eye
Down on the street, over your night
Out of your sleep, out of your sight
if I need to, if I need to
Out of your mouth, in every word
Down in your ego one thing is sure
I will keep you, I will keep you
Chorus
But just when you think you've left me blind
I will be creeping right up behind
Cause baby if I need to
Lord, I will keep you in the corner of my eye
I will be the bird in your straw
But you won't get far
I will keep you in the corner of my eye

song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Death

Then Almitra spoke, saying, 'We would ask now of Death.'
And he said:
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maxims

The heart is hard that cannot feel
The bruising of a light appeal.

The heart is deaf that cannot hear
The splashing of a tiny tear.

The heart is dumb that cannot say
“God speed you, comrades,” night and day.

The heart is blind that cannot see
The beckoning soul of mystery.

The heart is lame that cannot rise
From clamouring earth to silent skies.

And O that heart were better dead
That truckles to the prudent head

poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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I have a Rendezvous with Death

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

poem by Alan Seeger
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Bury Me Now!

bury me now,
at the feet of your freedom.
bury me now,
in the bowl of your hunger.
bury me now,
in the healing balm.
bury me now,
in the hand that comforts.
bury me now,
at the foot of the birthing bed.
bury me now,
in the march for peace.
bury me now,
let my body be the bridge.
bury me now,
and give names to the faces!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rendezvous

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air--
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath--
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death XXVII

Then Almitra spoke, saying, "We would ask now of Death."

And he said:

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Devil in Love

Call my name, take my hand
And stab me right in my heart
Call someone, curve the smile
And bury me in your wonderful arm

Call my name, come love none
And hold me with your starving thorns
Call someone, shut my sound
And drink me your sweet poison

Call my name, close my wound
And pierce me thousand more
Call someone, false the mourn
And leave my body in rain storm

Call my name, halt the breath
And whisper me the untold break
Call someone, queen kills clown
And scatter my soul in siren song

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word I Say

A word is dead
until it's said.
And so I say
my word to you.
And what word is it
I say to you?
I have never had
to think it through.
For it has always been
the word I've said
and will say repeatedly
until I'm dead.

The word I say
is what I feel.
The word you hear
has sweet appeal.
So I give to you
the word I've heard
that always and ever
repeats in my being
like the song of a bird
that sings to its mate
and can't hold back
before it's too late
to hear.
That word is love,
my dear.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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LIFE and DEATH

You would know the secret of death;
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in life?
The owl whose night eyes are blind to daylight,
Cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you yearn to see the spirit of death,
Open your heart wide to the wonder of life.
For life and death are one, even as a river and sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent,
Knowledge of the great beyond;
And like seeds dreaming ‘neath the snow,
Your heart dreams of spring.

Trust your dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling subject,
Waiting to be honored by his king.
Is the subject not joyful beneath his trembling?
That he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked,
In the wind and melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing,
But to free the breath from restless tides,
That it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you sing?
And when you have reached the mountain top,
Then you shall begin to climb!
And when the earth claims your limbs,
Then shall you truly dance.

(Inspired by Kahlil Gibran)

ROTMS

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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A Spell For Creation

Within the flower there lies a seed,
Within the seed there springs a tree,
Within the tree there spreads a wood.

In the wood there burns a fire,
And in the fire there melts a stone,
Within the stone a ring of iron.

Within the ring there lies an O,
Within the O there looks an eye,
In the eye there swims a sea,

And in the sea reflected sky,
And in the sky there shines the sun,
Within the sun a bird of gold.

Within the bird there beats a heart,
And from the heart there flows a song,
And in the song there sings a word.

In the word there speaks a world,
A world of joy, a world of grief,
From joy and grief there springs my love.

Oh love, my love, there springs a world,
And on the world there shines a sun,
And in the sun there burns a fire,

Within the fire consumes my heart,
And in my heart there beats a bird,
And in the bird there wakes an eye,

Within the eye, earth, sea and sky,
Earth, sky and sea within an O
Lie like the seed within the flower.

poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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The Fury Of Hating Eyes

I would like to bury
all the hating eyes
under the sand somewhere off
the North Atlantic and suffocate
them with the awful sand
and put all their colors to sleep
in that soft smother.
Take the brown eyes of my father,
those gun shots, those mean muds.
Bury them.
Take the blue eyes of my mother,
naked as the sea,
waiting to pull you down
where there is no air, no God.
Bury them.
Take the black eyes of my love,
coal eyes like a cruel hog,
wanting to whip you and laugh.
Bury them.
Take the hating eyes of martyrs,
presidents, bus collectors,
bank managers, soldiers.
Bury them.
Take my eyes, half blind
and falling into the air.
Bury them.
Take your eyes.
I come to the center,
where a shark looks up at death
and thinks of my heart
and squeeze it like a doughnut.
They'd like to take my eyes
and poke a hatpin through
their pupils. Not just to bury
but to stab. As for your eyes,
I fold up in front of them
in a baby ball and you send
them to the State Asylum.
Look! Look! Both those
mice are watching you
from behind the kind bars.

poem by Anne Sexton
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Lies, Lies, Lies

[verse 1]
I see you coming through the door
Creepin
Its a quarter past four
And
I smell the scent of cheap perfume
Who is she?
You step in the room
With a guilty look upon your face
Busted
And you started to say
but really baby I can explain
Save your breath
Ive got something to say
[chorus:]
Every word you say is
Lies, lies, lies
And now Im leaving you, so
Bye, bye, bye
And I cant take no more of this
Cry, cry, cryin
You know that you aint @#%$
With your
Lies, lies, lies
Ohhhhh
[verse 2]
Dont bother to apologize
Its too late
Ive heard it all before
And
This should come as no surprise
Im leaving
Ive packed my things
Cause Im through with this merry go around
Im getting off
Ive finally found
My strength waiting down
I should have left your @#%$
After the first round
Ohhhh
[chorus:]
Every word you say is
Lies, lies, lies
And now Im leaving you, so
Bye, bye, bye
And I cant take no more of this
Cry, cry, cryin
You know that you aint @#%$
With your
Lies, lies, lies
Please, please
Oh please
[laughs]
Yeah
What you goin do?
Tell your boys
All how you got over again?
Yeah right
Get off your knees
Oh, baby, please
Go ahead and tell the truth
Yeah
You know what
You see this fire in my eyes
Its all because of you
All you do is lie
[chorus:]
Every word you say is
Lies, lies, lies (goodbye, yeah. whooo)
And now Im leaving you, so
Bye, bye, bye (leaving you, leaving you, ohhh)
And I cant take no more of this
Cry, cry, cryin (too many tears over the years)
You know that you aint @#%$
With your
Lies, lies, lies (every little word you say is driving me crazy, insane)
Every word you say is (why lie? )
Lies, lies, lies
And now Im leaving you, so (bye, bye)
Bye, bye, bye
And I cant take no more of this
Cry, cry, cryin
You know that you aint @#%$
With your
Lies, lies, lies (you aint @#%$ with your li, li, li, li, lies)
[revamp:]
Li, li, lies, lies
Whooo
Lies
Li, li, lies, lies
Lies
Li, li, lies, lies
Lies
Li, li, lies, lies
Lies
Lies
Lies
Bye, bye
Lies
Bye, bye
Lies
Bye, bye
Lies
Bye, bye
Lies

song performed by by Toni Braxton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dreaming Bird in Caged

A Dreaming Bird in Caged
By: Adam M. Snow

My eyes be blind to thee,
My heart cold like a December morn.
Could condescension be,
A merit of a scorn?
My ethereal pain scourge my heart,
Thoughts of you lost in pass
You beckon my soul from the start,
I might obey, but not surpass.
If I may live not a bird in caged,
Who sings to please but dreams to be free.
My every moments aged,
And I still blind to see,
I'm not myself,
Just a bird on your shelf.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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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

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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When You Are Not Surprised

When you are not surprised, not surprised,
nor leap in imagination from sunlight into shadow
or from shadow into sunlight
suiting the color of fright or delight
to the bewildering circumstance
when you are no longer surprised
by the quiet or fury of daybreak
the stormy uprush of the sun’s rage
over the edges of torn trees
torrents of living and dying flung
upward and outward inward and downward to space
or else
peace peace peace peace
the wood-thrush speaking his holy holy
far hidden in the forest of the mind
while slowly
the limbs of light unwind
and the world’s surface dreams again of night
as the center dreams of light
when you are not surprised
by breath and breath and breath
the first unconscious morning breath
the tap of the bird’s beak on the pane
and do not cry out come again
blest blest that you are come again
o light o sound o voice of bird o light
and memory too o memory blest
and curst with the debts of yesterday
that would not stay, or stay

when you are not surprised
by death and death and death
death of the bee in the daffodil
death of color in the child’s cheek
on the young mother’s breast
death of sense of touch of sight
death of delight
and the inward death the inward turning night
when the heart hardens itself with hate and indifference
for hated self and beloved not-self
when you are not surprised
by wheel’s turn or turn of season
the winged and orbed chariot tilt of time
the halcyon pause, the blue caesura of spring
and solar rhyme
woven into the divinely remembered nest
by the dark-eyed love in the oriole’s breast
and the tides of space that ring the heart
while still, while still, the wave of the invisible world
breaks into consciousness in the mind of god
then welcome death and be by death benignly welcomed
and join again in the ceaseless know-nothing
from which you awoke to the first surprise.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The Kiss of Death

I
There she lay
Her soul astray
Her cruel lips
Where my soul slips
Into the taste of death
To find her breath
The breath of pain,
Where souls are slain
Death does not kill pain!
It lives in the one who suffer from it.

II
Death is the ultimate symbol of life
Its deadly kiss pierces harder
Than the plunge of a sharpen knife….
Death comes to us all
We know not when
Or where death will call
So our souls
Slowly slip
Into death's kiss
On her lip
Where we slowly sip
Death's dead breath
The kiss of Death

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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