Where do I fit into it all?
I have seen
brave men passing me.
Men who were composed
when death came agonising by
and stuck to the training
taught before
I have seen men believing
that victory belongs
to those that really dare
and snatching immortality
from the claws of death
against an outnumbering foe.
Still the meaning of it all
isn’t clear to me
and what battles and wars won
really bought?
I have seen good men
giving up their lives here
and sick of the impact of crime,
loosing hope for a future,
going away to stay
in another country.
I have seen wild men
making a life
out of whatever
destiny bestowed on them
and living it up
before the years
of old age could come.
I have seen grave men
calculating the cost
of investing in a desperate society
and deciding that all is lost
and withdrawing their investments
to make other opportunities
their goal.
I have seen great men
building up their lives
and starting new careers
from the ruins
of bankruptcy and unemployment
and against unfair laws
and black economic empowerment,
prospering from the lessons learnt
from life.
The question remains with me:
where do I fit
into it all?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Desperate Lives
Whats the problem here
Whats the noise
Im just waiting for the man (yea)
Me and the boys
Hes got the goods
Weve got the twenties, tens and fives
Everybodys doing it
Living desperate lives (living on the edge)
Desperate lives
Im stuck in the middle
Desperate lives
My life is a riddle
And Im sure theres a way out
When I want it
Sometimes I worry
But Im no fool
I keep it to myself
Cause you gotta stay cool
Desperate lives
Im stuck in the middle
Desperate lives
Sometimes I feel my life floating away
And times seems so precious
I want to hold you and say
Im stuck in the middle
Desperate lives
My life is a riddle
Desperate lives
Im stuck in the middle
Ive got this friend you know hes real cool
He gave new meaning to the term high school
Sometimes I worry
But Im no fool
I keep it to myself
Cause you gotta stay cool
Desperate lives
Im stuck in the middle
Desperate lives
My life is a riddle
And Im sure theres a way out
When I want it
Momma just looks confused and my daddy said
Ive got this bomb tick, tick, ticking in my head
Im stuck in the middle
Desperate lives
My life is a riddle
Desperate lives
Im stuck in the middle
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A special child is a special One
thank you for giving me the light in this world...... when
you shared to me the life, that the Lord bestowed and
blessed, you deserve that gift, to have a special one
thank you for the fruit of love..... your lives fulfill the
purpose of creation, your unending steadfast care lifts
me up to survive, amidst the uncertainty of life
thank you for being there..... when I needed you most,
you are always in my side, pushing me to face all
adversity, though I exist with no fear in my heart
thank you that you let me taste and experience..... what
is life with you, our memories always linger in my heart,
even though that meaningful happiness is off valued and
something special to me
thank you dear someone..... your presence is giving
me the strength to stay alive, this is the life I live, my world
is different from you, and I have to stay in order to live and
survive
thank you for accepting and letting me go..... beyond your
limit for you don't know where I will go, this dream that I
take is only, me can reach, a place where nobody knows
thank you for helping and making me to achieve, with my
own volition to know more of myself..... hoping the best of
everything on me, and believing that I might see the
meaning of my existence for the destiny I made is the
destiny I live.....this maybe the end of why, I am living in
this world with you dear someone
thank you that in my journey in this life..... you are with me
surfing every pieces of puzzle of who am I in this creation,
a creation that everyone is free, a creation that I am a part
and I exist, a destiny to move on and a place I live today
thank you..... for believing me even in your heart, thou you
didn't see what........ I believed, just always remember that
the life I share in every moment I've take. lives with you
forever and it is beyond your own imagination for the
world I live..... lives.....only in every man's heart that is free
' do not see them as how they think and look, but see
them as what you feel '
poem by Antonio Liao
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Sad Wings Of Destiny
Mournful, yet grand is the destiny of man. Believing he can look destiny in the eye, without so much as flinching. And only after having swallowed the seeds of fate, did he find, they grew into hate. Making what was once water to the faithful, turn to nothing more, than blood, before the eyes of an unbeliever. Of all that man has been, or in his vanity, may come to believe, destiny, after having granted his wishes, also gave him more than he perceived. For only by the work of his own two hands, could such suffering be achieved. Leading him to fight against his destiny, even though, he had no hope of victory. Like pantomimes of white, on a background of black, his destiny, appears as a silken thread, lost in an endless labyrinth of time. Never knowing, only death transforms life into a destiny, for only death has no need for time. Having denied love, he sealed his fate. Unable to find the meaning and never seeing the truth of life, that it may only be found with another, but not alone. Fear, merely encouraged his ignominy and transported him to the nether world, where he will at last, take his final flight, on the sad wings of destiny
poem by Eric Paeplow
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The Losers Never Write The War History
The losers never write the war history that's something we already know
Yet for the many wars fought through the ages we do not have the wisdom to show
That victory too comes at a huge cost for war the price is huge to pay
For families who grieve for their dead members their sense of loss with them will stay
Until they themselves go to the reaper the reaper who claims one and all
The loved one war had taken from them with great sadness they will recall
But the dead to life cannot be returned better to live as a coward than die brave
For none has yet come back for to tell us that there is a life beyond the grave,
They died for their God and their Country of dead war heroes some well may brag
Those who place too much worth on the unknowable and the colour of their Nation's flag
I for one find religion and patriotism confusing of god and war heroes hymns and songs are sung
But surely it is a misnomer that only the good do die young
And yet from war we have not learned young lives are lost for wars to be won
And if lasting peace ever does come it won't be through the barrel of a gun
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sacrifices
Autumn leaves have fallen
across long forgotten battlefields
where deep below the ground
the dead lie asleep.
Their lives torn apart
by some wicked war.
There they have immortality
for they will age no more.
Their sleep is restless
for from their deaths,
no lessons were learnt
and men and boys keep killing
in constant wicked wars.
On the eleventh hour,
of the eleventh day,
of the eleventh month
we stand in silence
to honour their memory
for the sacrifices they made,
but we have never learnt the lessons
This poem is dedicated to the memory of the men, women and children from all countries that have lost their lives in wars that have plagued our world. May their souls rest in eternal peace.
for which their lives they gave
as the killing still goes on and on.
poem by David Harris
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Submission (in answer to Don Mattera)
I have seen a white old man and woman
turned onto the street,
living in cardboard boxes
with their small white dog
in the new disastrous improved South Africa,
I have seen white people taking their own lives
when black mine owners robbed them of salaries
and there was no job to get,
no living to be made
and they did this
instead of starting to beg.
I have seen white men and women
with university degrees
leaving the country
in numbers that are more than a million
to find a place to have a life
somewhere else in a foreign country,
I have waited for more than a hour queuing
at a local bank to make a cash deposit,
as a payment to someone
and the way that things are going,
with the black economic empowerment
and people not up to doing a simple job,
soon all of private industry
will be falling apart
as the government departments are doing.
I have noticed friends and family members
who were robbed, hijacked in their vehicles,
raped, tortured and killed
while the South African Police
did their very best to make a arrest
and like in all other things
are not up to it.
I know people who live in despair,
who are totally without hope
while the country’s borders
are flung wide open
to the rest of Africa
to first have a chance at a job
and their degrees and experience
in the face of this means nothing
but not one does bend
under the black heel to submission,
at the mercy of God
their lives go on…
[Reference: “Submission” by Don Mattera.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Till Death
Till death do us part my love
till death pull us away
till death ruins our lives
till death. We Stay!
why travel to see the world
when i can stare into your eyes
why try to make others happy
when i have you by my side
come lock your fingers with mine
squeeze them when you are cold
come walk with me amongst this path
To let our memories unfold
No I am no romeo or your knight in shining armour
Nor am I romantic or a loving charmer
More a fool who mingles in disstress
but I am yours and you love me never the less
So, Till death do us part my love
till death pull us away
till death ruins our lives
till death. We stay!
poem by Mozafar Ali
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Paid In Full
There are wars that are to be won
And there are wars to be lost
There are lives to be saved
And there are lives to be lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are victories that are deserved
And even in those wins, something is lost
There are deaths that are deemed necessary
Despite that, their honor is never lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are people that do not agree
And believe that the world is lost
There are others that say it’s saved
Only if the doubt and negativity are lost
But mine will come at a higher cost
There are soldiers that believe in a cause
And believe that American values are not lost
There are my bothers that fight on the line
And there are the brave ones that we have lost
It is those who have paid the higher cost
poem by C.R. Ebowski
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They Gave Their All
I may not understand the wars
Or the fields of rotting corpses
I've read all the poems
Of wars from the past
And cannot imagine
The life lived back then
A blood soaked battlefield
Death wading with glee
At those that have fallen
For the right to be free
So many souls lost in time
Fighting a cause, humanity blind
Dare I say, what I read?
In between the lines
A poet soldier
Who needs to be free?
Do I have a right?
To question their fight
They gave their all
In what they believed
Teardrops fall as I continue my rhyme
But what I do understand
Is that they fought through all the wars
So that we can be free
To choose our lives
And live to be
What we want to be
All the bloodshed fields
The entire hero's lost in wars
I bow my head, and pray to thee
Thank you all
For letting me breathe
To learn and discover
The meaning of me
Tears trickle down
As I cry for your loss
You never got the chance to be free
You never found your path in life
You never came home to your loved ones, friends, and family
So what gives us the right?
The generation of today
To say how boring
Our life is today
When those in war
Never had a full life
They gave it all
So we could be free
To live a full life
I thank the hero's
Of past, present and yet to be
What so sad for humankind
Is that war is our history
Perhaps in the future
We can see peace and harmony
Perhaps dare I say it
A world weapon free
poem by Kaila George
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The World Needs Peace, Not Through Wars!
What loss of lives and destruction!
Can lives all lost ever return?
How many more will have to die?
Can one man’s death bring back lives lost?
What pollution, a war can add!
Let Cats who declare wars on mice,
Take the blame and pay the price!
War is a gambling game like dice;
War is a futile exercise.
One cannot fight wars with mere knives;
War is a waste of human lives;
Alas, will nations realize
That keeping peace is always wise?
Wars can begin without a cause;
The world can’t have a single boss!
One nation can’t stifle the rest,
Or try to be always the best.
The world body must give OK!
The world must say to wars, all ‘nay’;
For lasting peace, war isn’t the way!
The cost of wars, who will repay?
The world must find out other ways,
Avoiding wars in future days;
Each nation must unmask its face,
And set on peace, its gaze always!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-1-2007
poem by John Celes
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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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The Skeleton Butterfly
A skeleton butterfly, Kisses my cheek,
A kiss so beautiful...so gentle....so sweet,
It floats around the air, where death has been,
Always following me, for death has always been to close to touch,
Its beautiful bones, and wings of Crimson embers, Is left as a reminder that death Lives within us all,
he'll pay you a visit the cost is small,
This beautiful creature of death, left to ponder the living,
Lost in the sarrows of humans Frightened be fear,
It clings to me for life has more meaning when Death visits and leaves,
Lost in the devils eternity,
A butterfly stays with those touched by death, forever there friend,
when the world has left.
poem by Crimson Love
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I Believe In Nigeria
With so many battles and killings,
with slim chances of healings.
Our peace has been taking away from us,
and our glory days are far behind us.
Our nation has been torn apart,
by those whose love are from our heart.
With tears runing down our cheek,
with the killings and violence at its peak.
Every where is been flooded by innocent blood,
and our treasure been lost in the mud.
Everyday we live our lives in fear,
with so much pain that we can't bear.
People been nurtured to the highest level of hatred,
and now innocent lives are been affected.
Hatred has given birth to death,
and death taking away our precious life on earth.
With people living their lives in hell,
even when they mean to do well.
Properties are been destroyed everyday,
and thousands of lives are been laid to rest each day.
Is it a crime to be a human? ,
or is it a sin to be a nigerian? .
Is it a cause to crave for peace in our nation? ,
a nation thats moving closer to the point of destruction.
Each day our kneels are planted on the ground in prayers,
to erradicate pains that is been inflited by peace haters.
All i know is that all hope is not lost,
because in the ebullent nigerian spirit i trust.
No matter the trouble we may be going through today,
it will be a testimony we'll say some day.
For every pain that we feel in our heart now,
the peace of heaven will erase it some how.
For every sacrifice we make for the peace of our country,
will go a long way to erase every of our misery.
No matter the level of destruction in our neighbour hood,
i believe one day everything will change for good.
poem by Stanley Oguh
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A Beautiful Thing
A beautiful thing
Is the life that God gave to us
A beautiful thing is the men like us
Because God create the men
To get married and have an also to have children
Together with his wife that he decides to marry and live the rest of his life With
A beautiful thing
Is the music that singers gave to me so that I can have a better life
Why?
Because singers are people just like me
And their music heals me and othe people
A beautiful thing for the ones that are sick for a long time
Is death
Because when death arrives to the ones that are sick they don't suffer Anymore
But it is not worth to live life when the ones that are sick are sick
Because it is a constant worry about who will take care of the ones that are Sick
And also their are constant worries if the one that os sick have any kids
Because they have to think of who will take care of their kids when they Will die
And I don't doubt for a moment that they won't miss their loved one if it is their mother or their father
Why?
Because the one that is sickis their mother
And you raised them from birth to grown up
And what is next?
I can't say what is next because I don't live their lives
And I will worry about my life
And nobody else's life
Because all the dreams that I am having now belongs to my life
Why do I talk so much about life now?
Because I am thinking about life now
And I am enjoying every second in my life
Because every second in my life counts because the hour keeps passing
And I keep enjoying it
A beautiful thing is that I am one adult
And that I can do things that pleases me with limitations
A beautiful thing is that I am the captain of God's ship
But I am also the master of God's soul
And God is the master of my destiny
But where my destiny will end I don't know
Because only God knows where my destiny will end
A beautil thing is the rain
Because it comes down from the sky and water our garden that is Outside of our houses
A beautiful thing is the soap that removes the dirt from my body and Makes it clean
A beautiful thing is the clothes that keeps my body dressed all day
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Lost love 2
Void, empy and hollow inside
my dreams have fled, my hope have died.
existance has no reason
life's just passing with each other.
She was my life, my hope and love
all is gone, passed by thereof
the hurt is much no one should bear
what's to life, why should i care?
I weep all night for my love gone
my herat is sick for death i long
mine eyes well tears for love thats lost
i'll mourn always for my great cost.
But in each day, Lord give me hope
strengthen me so i may cope
grant me wisdom to help me see
thy great way and not just me.
poem by Randy Micheal
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The Gift Freely Given
Verse 1:
Our Lord in His mercy gave up His own Son.
He gave us the promise that heaven is won.
Of what did He ask; for Christ resurrection?
Except we follow His word without question.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Verse 2:
The sin of this world came through Adam and Eve,
And left through our Savior in whom we believe.
Our sins are on him; through his life’s perfection,
And ever shall be through his resurrection.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Verse 3:
The Lord in his glory looks down from above,
And sees His church filled with the people He loves,
We still live in sin; our lives are in pieces,
Yet His perfect love for us ne’er decreases.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Writ On The Steps Of Puerto Rican Harlem
There’s a truth limits man
A truth prevents his going any farther
The world is changing
The world knows it’s changing
Heavy is the sorrow of the day
The old have the look of doom
The young mistake their fate in that look
That is truth
But it isn’t all truth
Life has meaning
And I do not know the meaning
Even when I felt it were meaningless
I hoped and prayed and sought a meaning
It wasn’t all frolic poesy
There were dues to pay
Summoning Death and God
I’d a wild dare to tackle Them
Death proved meaningless without Life
Yes the world is changing
But Death remains the same
It takes man away from Life
The only meaning he knows
And usually it is a sad business
This Death
I’d an innocence I’d a seriousness
I’d a humor save me from amateur philosophy
I am able to contradict my beliefs
I am able able
Because I want to know the meaning of everything
Yet sit I like a brokenness
Moaning: Oh what responsibility
I put on thee Gregory
Death and God
Hard hard it’s hard
I learned life were no dream
I learned truth deceived
Man is not God
Life is a century
Death an instant
poem by Gregory Corso
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The future
The future is here
and I am beginning to fear
that the end of life as I know it
is very near
and society has changed from some integrity
to none and corruption.
Those that were oppressed
are now oppressing
with the world’s blessing
and use Black Economic Exploitation by law
to get the Revenge of the Dark People’s going
and work is scarce
or totally nonexistent
and I rather have my old broken world back
[References: BEE= Black Economic Empowerment. (Black economic exploitation) RDP = Reconstruction and Development Program (Revenge of the dark peoples.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The voice of the Poor
when everything looses its taste and vengeance cloth the
agony of the heart, the gnashing of teeth birth the beginning
of hatred, and the sting of death lives with thy soul, through
out generation to come
every faith challenge the discernment of the heart, living behind
the tears of the innocent, that calls the coolness of a stumble
heart, sprouted like an incense fume, chanting the bravery of
fear
as the eyes sees the suffering of the soul, the venue settled
down an avenue of loosing one's life, an experience of thy heart
that lives beyond man's personal conviction to die, even death
is not an option just to rise an honor to what faith calls
as the ladder of pain hurts the shadow of death, the will to live
is beyond compare, to shed blood, is what it is call, living
through dying is the only wisdom to live in harmony to every
man's faith
life is a call, to gain the fame of living is to give what is best in
life, it is in a small thing you give that, life brings us to see
and find the meaning of what is life...... a call to live
poem by Antonio Liao
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Charles Sumner. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
Garlands upon his grave
And flowers upon his hearse,
And to the tender heart and brave
The tribute of this verse.
His was the troubled life,
The conflict and the pain,
The grief, the bitterness of strife,
The honor without stain.
Like Winkelried, he took
Into his manly breast
The sheaf of hostile spears, and broke
A path for the oppressed.
Then from the fatal field
Upon a nation's heart
Borne like a warrior on his shield!--
So should the brave depart.
Death takes us by surprise,
And stays our hurrying feet;
The great design unfinished lies,
Our lives are incomplete.
But in the dark unknown
Perfect their circles seem,
Even as a bridge's arch of stone
Is rounded in the stream.
Alike are life and death,
When life in death survives,
And the uninterrupted breath
Inspires a thousand lives.
Were a star quenched on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky,
Shine on our mortal sight.
So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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