Silence please
If you don’t prefer honourable death,
If you have courage and enough wealth
Then come here and admit in hospital,
In no time your body will have rose petal,
We have distinction of sending you to heaven,
In other places you may not have chances even,
Here we have all the facilities to rush at eleven,
Rest be assured services at low ebb and proven,
Our doctors get beating all the time,
Not the service but the money goal prime,
We respect people’s bashing and wrath,
Even window panes and glasses crash,
This doesn’t represent anything bad,
You come in happy mood and depart as sad,
Even healthy prefer to stay here and go mad,
What for we are here in white cloths clad?
You will not know what organ has disappeared,
Body all normal with no stitches appeared,
Some times nothing performed and sealed,
Scissors, towel, glove inside concealed,
How many die unnatural and get noticed?
At least we take out organ and go unnoticed,
Both the ways the death seems so natural,
But we receive beatings and abuses oral,
May be this not good place for living dead?
After all we combine together and operation head,
Living may find place on the floor,
Simple reason we can’t show the door,
Many poor may not have fan,
It’s possible no money and can,
But for dead we have A/C room,
For final departure and life’s doom
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Truly Said
Truly said
When body is laid on earth
After meeting natural or accidental death
Decency is must for laying the wreath
Some of the souls are born to deliver good
Even though they charge money but enjoy no sweetness of food
Life and death as they see it daily and overcome
Let us pray God to help their hands and welcome
We have crematorium ground where bodies are consummated
Hindu's generally prefer dead bodies to be cremated
Decorum. Respect and honor is maintained by permanent staff
Yet some of the people among then offer their last laugh
They share grief and see that no sentiments are hurt
Even though some consideration they certainly expect
I see the gloom and tragedy take over their faces
As everybody with dead bodies make desperate rush
Even though some of the sacred norms are not maintained
But their services in this regard is certainly praised
They provide timely assistance and direct rituals
Even though for them arrival of dead bodies are just casual
As we see the services and found many lacuna in hospitals
Here the bodies are placed nicely with rituals on rose petals
Hymns are sung and atmosphere is created to make one very sad
No one can hold tears at that time without feeling bad
I devoted much of the time on this article
As I have come across many troubles
Such type of narration at length is necessary and must
As their services are to be appreciated with belief and trust
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Man proposes but...
Man proposes but God disposes
Fewer successes and more miss
Plan more but get nothing
Message is loud and clear for something
I am slowly going to end stage
I think it is calling off the day with age
So far successfully survived and managed
Now some departure ceremony ahs to be arranged
It is good to arrange in advance
It must be thought over at once
You must look back or give little glance
It must be clearly seen from your stance
The death is most dreaded fear
One got to be seized with it and bear
That can not be pushed further or delayed
The message is understood and clearly relayed
Dead are given respect and decent burial
It has to be accepted and no one can offer denial
As everybody has to be treated same way
No one can afford to ignore or stay away
Hindus lay dead body on pyre
After religious chanting it is handed over to fire
The body is then consigned to flames
It is merged with earth after reducing to ashes
The Muslims and Christians bury the dead
Their place is indicated and message is read
It is done with mark of respect
Tearful departure with final act
Let the methods vary but goal is same
One has to choose it without any blame
It is destined hour and stage is set
The same treatment and honor one is likely to get
I am coward and really afraid
I continuously think of stage ahead
What will I feel when buried?
This is open fact and can’t be lied
This is hunting me all the times
I become restless sometimes
Though it is reality but I am not prepared
I think of the condition and compare
I am puzzled by the fact that body will be exhumed
How much time will it take to be consumed?
Will I be feeling sense of long torture?
Is it going to take place for sure?
I have read the plight of dead bodies
Dogs sometimes pull them out from cemeteries
The fate will never be known to relatives
Such thoughts emerge in mind to give in
My dead body must be given full care
I know it must be laid somewhere
No one has escaped so far or got immunity
It is really helplessness and one can only feel pity
* The death fever should not grip the mind anytime*
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Why Keep On Living? ....[LONG; Personal; End-of-Life Choices]
This may not my typical poem be... because
I don't plan to use much rhyming.... you wait and see!
As my wife is away in Japan
and I hold down the fort....
watering plants, doing outdoor chores, paying bills....
I ask myself.....again...why keep living?
It's kind of a depressing question as it implies
that I don't enjoy life enough to want to keep living
or I feel there is a good reason to die.
Neither position is exactly what's in my mind.
It's not that I feel any god-commanded mandate,
or even, exactly, a human mandate to keep living....
though I have been coerced by both my daughter
and my wife to stay alive for now.
(Shannon wants her as-yet-unborn children to 'know' me;
my wife wants to die before I do; I'm not sure why.)
I'm 61 and relatively healthy. My wife encourages good health. I don't WANT to die, exactly, though there are times
when I think death would be 'nice'.
Death could be 'easier' than living.
I sometimes say I feel I use too many resources, etc..
(my wife says I eat too much.)
Call me 'lazy' if you will. …..I sometimes (rarely)
lie in bed on my back, feel exceptionally relaxed,
and think…..
‘if death were like this I would welcome it.'
[And maybe it is.]
Don't get my wrong. I have a good life as lives go.
I feel 'blessed' to be: male, white, a 'good' height
and weight (I think) , modestly attractive, healthy,
raised Christian (though no longer) , heterosexual,
financially secure, Anglo-Saxon, 'middle (lower) class',
relatively intelligent, living in America, and having
(I think) good common sense. I had a safe,
educated upbringing. I have a lovely and loving daughter.
And, most of all, I have a lovely and loving wife.
Not that I feel being 'male, white' etc. makes
me 'better' than other people. I DON'T! Really.
But, given my surroundings, I believe the above
conditions have been advantageous for my life …..
for my comfort, well-being....whatever one calls it.
So why would I even consider ending my life voluntarily?
Good question! !
Well....from time to time since I was in my twenties
I have had moments of mild depression....[nothing to seek medical help for you understand....
Thank God! ....even though I don't believe in God;
I don't really not believe in God either. Growing up
going to church and Sunday school was pleasant
enough usually....especially the candy for kids at X-mas eve church services! ]
The 'mild depression' would come at times when I
had no female partner with whom I could share...share life, share meals, share bedtime, etc..
At other times I've gotten depressed when a relationship
I'm in seems to be crumbling. Oh no!
'I'm not accepted for what I am (an imperfect man...is that redundant?) .;
Where do I go from here? ; I could be lonely again.;
I really want a woman to love me and be loved, albeit 'imperfectly', by me.'
SO, at times depression brought on by 'insufficient' love has
made me doubt the worth of continued living.
Also, within the last 10 to15 years, I have had
environmental doubts about the worth of continuing to live.
There are too many people on earth for the available
resources to sustain them in a comfortable fashion.
OR...the resources are not divided in such a way to
provide a comfortable life for all.
People are living too long! ! (read on)
'Doom and gloom' in the news, casts doubt on the future of mankind.
'Global warming', war, disease, hunger, crime,
bankruptcy, foreclosures, pollution, joblessness, terrorism,
lack of healthcare, unwed mothers (and fathers) ,
adult-children and grandchildren moving
in with parents and grandparents, religious + ethnic strife ….
NEED I say more? Not that these events are ALL new to mankind.
I have led a pretty good and complete life.
Now my main reasons for living are to share life with my wife
and to try to help others in small ways.....
as a financial supporter of 'worthy causes',
as a friend to some people as lucky as I am, and
as a friend to some others who are less-advantaged.
I like to think when my body dies I die completely
except as a memory in some peoples' minds,
and perhaps as part of someone else's body through organ/tissue donation..
I do feel, or like to think that, some people will miss me ….
some might even be saddened for more than a day if I were to die.
But I believe those people would be few and far between.
And I feel they should be able to do fine without me in time.
(and my insurance beneficiaries would prosper)
(9-2-2009)
3
poem by Bri Edwards
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Rich and Poor
Money brings problems to the wealthy and the poor
Money causes conflict that often leads to war
Money ruins families that can barley afford to eat
Working every night and day just to make ends meet
Money is still desired how ever great your wealth
Power and greed take control and corrupt your inner self
Needed for survival across the world in every place
Soon as you leave school get set to join the paper chase
Money is the path to deception, cheating and enmity
So watch that your arrogance wont make hell your final destiny
To believe your better or more important than any body else
Is an major fault in any man that is bought on by wealth
Money separates the rich and the poor
But when your times up money is no more
poem by Nic Hillen
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Coroner's Day
A torn shirt smeared in red
On the table calmly sleeps the dead
Strewn around are organs and the heart
Incredible to imagine them as the departed’s part!
Useless as they are now experimental blocks
Drained of life heedless to the clocks
No love no emotion in the cold dim room
Is living natural or more so is doom?
Reeking of the dead eerie scissors sweep
One by one they cut strong and deep
Dismembering the lover cutting through the brave
But no show of courage when the abode is grave!
Drying bloods of passion drip from the dead
The once living corpse on the table goes fade
With no words or voice feelings blown away
He could at last make the coroner’s day!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Man With God
MAN WITH GOD
God is cruel,
man is merciful,
war is natural,
between God and man,
Good is poor,
money is money,
He makes you a monk,
money gives you earthly things,
God is sick,
man is healthy,
so God loves peace,
man fights war,
God is dead,
man is alive,
worship man,
forget the dead
poem by Dr. Ram Sharma
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Dead End Street
Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spare Me From Humiliation
Have you ever seen intelligent person cutting sorry figure?
Repenting for all past misdeeds and crying for future
Blinking at sky and praying for mercy from lord
Find no solution still helplessly wants to end life with cord
If I am given option for choosing a way
I shall prefer wealth but not go for it far away
I shall strive for good position and wealth
Yet may take full precaution for health
There is mad race for material happiness
We see the pride reflecting on face
We try to impress people and put impressive show
We are pretty sure that no one may touch the feet and bow
It defeats the purpose if aim is sabotaged
If overseas stay is only for money and managed
What does it earn except humiliation?
There is big problem with complication
Wealth and prosperity does not come with easy means
There may be many draw backs, failures and then lastly win
If some fair means are adopted then surely it will enlighten
Or else it will drive to craziness and death may be hastened
It is said and generally believe” Ill gotten money disappear fast”
The future generation may not deserve it and disintegrate at last
Whole of the empire may crumble like pack of cards
The simple truth will be seen as cruel joke with rewards
No one may look at you for dismal show
People will pay scant respect when on road you go
They will point out at failed person with pity
“Look at this man” this can be shame or disgrace from almighty
I have believed and still advise to go slow
The means and ways are to be not below
Standard and ethics to earn bad respect
As it will be then left with humiliating act
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Without A Few Good Laughs A Day
Success is only really what does matter if you go by with what most people do say
But life it would surely be very boring without a few good laughs a day
If you cannot laugh you're in trouble some even find it hard to smile
There are people with heaps of money who feel living life scarce worth-while
One has to feel sympathy for them their gift of life they don't enjoy
When they buy presents for their young child they buy the most expensive toy
Yet their money cannot make them happy they live their lives burdened by care
It Doesn't mean you will be happy when you become a millionaire
The praises of the rich and famous so many feel happy to sing
But if money could make people happy then money would buy everything
Unhappiness some people are born with and 'tis something money cannot cure
But I'd rather be wealthy and unhappy than being poor and miserable though the choice is a poor one for sure
If money could solve all of our problems then our biggest problem would be small
But money cannot buy you happiness and that's the greatest gift of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Of Him I Love Day And Night
OF him I love day and night, I dream'd I heard he was dead;
And I dream'd I went where they had buried him I love--but he was not
in that place;
And I dream'd I wander'd, searching among burial-places, to find him;
And I found that every place was a burial-place;
The houses full of life were equally full of death, (this house is
now;)
The streets, the shipping, the places of amusement, the Chicago,
Boston, Philadelphia, the Mannahatta, were as full of the dead
as of the living,
And fuller, O vastly fuller, of the dead than of the living;
--And what I dream'd I will henceforth tell to every person and age,
And I stand henceforth bound to what I dream'd;
And now I am willing to disregard burial-places, and dispense with
them; 10
And if the memorials of the dead were put up indifferently
everywhere, even in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be
satisfied;
And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my own corpse, be duly
render'd to powder, and pour'd in the sea, I shall be
satisfied;
Or if it be distributed to the winds, I shall be satisfied.
poem by Walt Whitman
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When I Depart
My body now’s only a shell, where my spirit used to dwell,
No longer in this earthly tent, up to Heaven I’ve been sent,
Though on earth I have died, I’m now by my Savior’s side,
No longer in this body friend, to begin life that has no end.
Indeed on earth, I have died, but, now my body’s glorified,
I’ve risen as my Savior said, alive in Heaven far from dead,
While lifeless my body may be, I’ve passed to life eternally,
Now from earth I’ve departed, life with God has just started.
When on this earth I see death, I shall receive eternal breath,
Entering in that heavenly portal, I’ll receive a body immortal,
A new body to begin eternal life, with my Lord, Jesus Christ,
As I enter in that Eternal Door, to be with Christ forevermore.
Death again will see me never, as I will live with God forever,
In a mansion prepared for me, that I now can touch and see,
A place surpassing all my hope, a paradise of eternal scope,
A home granted to me by grace, to sit with God face to face.
Death was just to say goodbye, to meet with God up on high,
Where one day I’ll see you there, in a paradise, without a care,
For one day soon we will reunite, to be forever in God’s Light,
As death won’t stop us friend, from life with God, with no end.
(Copyright ©11/2010)
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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Will this be my last breathe
Will this be my last breathe
A question or doubt
That occurs to us
At times and the frequency of which
Becomes more
With advancing age
The anxiety is not out of way
As we witness people
Dying suddenly of a number of
Disease conditions and
System disorders
Leave alone,
People in large numbers meeting their ends
In man made accidents and
Natural calamities
No one knows for sure
How, when and where the
Death would conquer him or her
It can be while sleeping
It can be on an operation theatre
It can be while partying
It can be any time, any where and any how
And one day
Any one has to depart
It is natural
When this thought strikes
One would quickly take a relook
Of the entire life path
The tasks unfinished
The dreams unrealized
The goals unaccomplished
The wealth left behind
The love and affection of dearest ones
And range of things
That impacted his or her living
Positively or otherwise
These days, the person struck by this thought
Would, very likely, think about the
Possible financial benefits
From the life insurance funds
To the kith and kin
One fact, most people miss to note
Is that
When this is really the last breathe
There need not be any more worries
As all worldly things associated with the person
Become insignificant immediately after this
If at all, any one is to worry
Are the people left behind
The nearest one worrying maximum
The extent of worry dilutes
With the distance of association
Peripheries not even making a note
Of one’s departure
Least worrying person
Is the one who departs as
Nothing really happens to him or her
Who is going to breathe last
The physical pain associated with death
And emotional pain of moving away
From belongings vanish all on a sudden
Traditional wisdom points out
To one simple thing
Keep your cool
Know and feel the fact
That you are relieved of all
Attachment and bond
Associated with this body
You are not the one to worry any further
It is for people around you to do that
As they will be the one to stand
The impact of your departure
You cannot in any manner contribute a thing
Towards alleviating their pain
Breathe your last in peace and comfort
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Death occurs, it does not exist
Death, as we all know
Marks the termination
Of a life process
It is the climax of a
Natural process
Where a life system takes birth
Grows, matures
And meets end
It only occurs
And has no existence as such
We fear death
As we know we are going to die one day
We fear most
The aftermath of our departure
Than what really is going to happen to us after death
Death takes not even a split of a second
To fructify
But we ponder over that
And its impact
Much much longer
We just need to know
That we cannot escape this ultimate end
And enjoy living as much as we can
In a fair and socially acceptable manner
Without troubling others around
Factually, living itself
Is indeed a preparation for death only
Because you are going to die the way you lived
A matured, well balanced living
Leads to a similar departure
A chasing, hurried living
Leads to a unplanned demise
Leaving behind others to chase and hurry
An ever complaining ways of living
Leads to a death
After which the near and dear ones
Have a lot to complain
A compassionate and considerate living
Leads to a death
Making others be the same with every one
Death is peaceful only
Health conditions may at times
Someone be hospitalised for long
And someone incapacitated
And some others becoming a real burden
All these have nothing to do with dying peacefully
As long the person to die
Remains in peace and comfort
No need to get reminded
That we die each time we breathe out
As we are not sure
Whether or not we are going to
Brathe in immediately after that
Let us live
Strengthening ourselves
With the understanding
That death does not exist
But, it is going to occur
Only once, somewhere, somehow, sometime
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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What Is Heaven?
Is Heaven just a place to go, when through with this life we know?
Is Heaven that place for everyone, when life on this earth is done?
Is Heaven, not a placed called Hell, where after life, all shall dwell?
A final place to rest in peace, in blissful comfort that won’t cease?
Or, is Heaven to you much more, than rest beyond a golden door?
Do you desire to be in Heaven, beyond earth’s twenty-four seven?
Heaven is that true home above, for all who embraced God’s Love.
That love He showed on Calvary, where Christ died for you and me.
Do you know Christ, yourself, Who provides us with eternal wealth?
Providing believers an eternal home, granted from Heaven’s Throne;
But not all will accept God’s Son, although Christ died for everyone,
And they will not secure a place, in a home that’s supplied by Grace.
For Christ spoke of Heaven and Hell, when to His hearers He did tell,
About two very opposing destinies, while both shall still be eternities,
One for those who would believe, who, The Father above will receive,
And one for rejecters of The Lord, who, by our Father will be ignored.
Both being choices, which we make, when God we accept or forsake,
Heaven for all who accept Christ, through who God offers eternal life,
Hell for after one’s final breath, rejecting Christ, to enter eternal death.
Eternal places ahead for everyone, for their choice, about God’s Son.
Event Of My Death
Event of my Death
As I Iay in the dawn of the hours waiting for my body to rest
I wonder what I will do in the event of my death….
In the event of my death most just think heaven or hell
No not me it doesn’t stop there…
In the event of my death my spirit will leave my body
My spirit will truly start living
In the event of my death I case my location,
Thinking about what led up to this…
In the event of my death I will visit all my loved ones…
My first visit will be to my king..
I will watch over him making him feel secure..
In the event of my death I will make my presence known
I will make them feel me in the heart and their surroundings…
In the event of my death I will travel…
I will hover over all the pyramids in Egypt,
I will explore all the places I’ve never been..
In the event of my death I will talk with my creator..
I will know all the answers…
Most of all In the Event of my death I will meet with my brother..
My brother and I will be together again…
In the Event of My death I will realize I’m really not dead..
In the Event of My death I will know that my spirit lives on..
I will know what living is all about…
In the Event of My death I will be immortal
I will be goddess a In the Event of My death...
I will be what I was born to be....
I will be free
I will be free of insecurities, free of poverty,
free of calamity, free of a broken heart,
Free of depression, free of negativity,
Free of racism, free of prejudice
I will be free In the Event of my Death
I will be all the things I was born to be...
I will be powerful, I will be beautiful, and I will be limitless
I will be a Goddess in the Event of my death...
Now what will you be....
Author: Templar Thomas
poem by Templar Thomas
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Nurse Green
'Your prayers you have said, and you've wished good night:
What cause is there yet keeps my darling awake?
This throb in your bosom proclaims some affright
Disturbs your composure. Can innocence quake?
'Why thus do you cling to my neck, and enfold me,
What fear unimparted your quiet devours?'
'O mother, there's reason-for Susan has told me,
A dead body lies in the room next to ours.'
'I know it; and, but for forgetfulness, dear,
I meant you the coffin this day should have seen,
And read the inscription, and told me the year
And day of the death of your poor old Nurse Green.'
'O not for the wealth of the world would I enter
A chamber wherein a dead body lay hid,
Lest somebody bolder than I am should venture
To go near the coffin and lift up the lid.'
'And should they do so and the coffin uncover,
The corpse underneath it would be no ill sight;
This frame, when its animal functions are over,
Has nothing of horror the living to fright.
To start at the dead is preposterous error,
To shrink from a foe that can never contest;
Shall that which is motionless move thee to terror;
Or thou become restless, 'cause they are at rest?
To think harm of her our good feelings forbid us
By whom when a babe you were dandled and fed;
Who living so many good offices did us,
I ne'er can persuade me would hurt us when dead.
But if no endeavour your terrors can smother,
If vainly against apprehension you strive,
Come, bury your fears in the arms of your mother;
My darling, cling close to me, I am alive.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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I've Died My Thousandths Death Today
I've died my thousandths death today
and the reasons still unknown
blank expression on my face
the feelings go unshown
this courage is a killer
that i cant seem to find
no reason for death
but courage grabs me from behind
he only kills my insides
he leaves me to suffer
in so much pain
I dont care if I go under
I'm not afraid of death
I've seen him so many times
So I'll happily accept
when the time is mine
sometimes i don't like waking up
cause i have to look in the mirror
at the man with a disease
that cannot find the cure
alive for 21 years
but hasn't lived a day
knock back 21 shots
till the problem seems ok
I was born dead
thats probably how I'll die
I should get use to the fact
that I'll always be that guy
Im like a ghost
no matter what I'll stay
walking amongst the living
but I've died my thousandths death today
poem by Nekoda Johnson
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For Death
Death is
Not a danger...
Death is
Good silince...
Death is
Not a fear...
Death is peace...
Death is
Not for cry...
Death is
Only at happy..
Death is
Not distup for
All... all...
why...!
Death is
Simply with out
Breath...
For others
Not for relatons
And dead body's...
At same time
Death is one of
Birth...
O...soory for sins...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Possibilities
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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