Life-force
once again the earth
stealthily gnawed at her own margins
entombing gods and humans alike.
freezing all human activity
in its innocent sleep
the buried gods
from the earth below
bear witness to
frozen petrified children
still at their study…
panting parents
under the dead weight
of their young ones…
a just fed infant alive
with a mouthful of milk
in the arms of a mother dead…
a life entrapped for thirteen days
with its breath still intact…
the debris of several limbs
under the rubble of once
a make believe world
and
piles of decaying bodies
impatiently await
a mass burial
as bulldozers devise
bizarre beds
for the dead amid the rubble…
overwhelmed and stunned
the sorrow of the world
erased its boundaries
to find one another
once again.
*(A RE-POST IN SYMPATHY WITH THE QUAKE VICTIMS OF IINDONESIA. this is written after an earthquake in iran a couple of years ago. it's published by postcolonial discourse, an online literary journal from canada)
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
Another Huge Earthquake
Another huge Earthquake in Java and thousands are missing and dead
Just one angry outburst of Nature leaving millions of people in dread
Of another mighty earth tremor the fear it is real and widespread
Of the destructive power of our Earth Mother so much has been written and said,
Another huge Earthquake to talk of the anger of Nature no human structure can hope to withstand
Once great buildings left in huge piles of rubble as if they were castles of sand
Built by children on the beach at low tide that at high tide were washed out to sea
So great is the power of our Earth Mother and not one as mighty as she,
All of life lives off of Mother Nature and of her power we are aware
And though Nature can kill thousands of people Mother Nature is never unfair
People come and go like the Seasons but Nature she lives on and on
And she will be around forever though all present life forms may be gone
But she will create new life forms and Nature is forever more
And the stream from the hill will flow down to the river that flows to the great ocean shore.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Voices
our love is spillt
onto winter's dead earth.
amid the rubble of
decaying leaves, and
unnamed frost...
only an echo
of living remains;
and the promise
born in memory
is not enough.
the arms and legs
of our passion
cut up as firewood
and left to dry.
our cries of hunger
diminished, fade
into the sounds of the wind
freezing the panes
of windows locked in death.
epitaphs scratched in stone
and children that took wing...
now voices no longer familier
speak of nothing, or
dont speak at all.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dead In The Wombs
those same children
who died in the waters
that swallowed Atlantis....
those same children,
starving 'neath Africa's sun....
dead from the bombings
in Iraq, Afghanistan, and soon Iran....
their bodies thrown into dumpsters
here in the United States....
dead on the borders,
dead in the oil filled waters,
dead on the cocaine streets,
dead in the prisons...
dead in the colleges,
dead in the unemployment lines....
dead on the picket lines,
dead, handcuffed, and beaten....
dying, and dead, world crazy spinning...
as the 'light of the world'
sputters, and goes out....
dead in the wombs of the
homeless, hopeless, and forgotten...
dead by our hands!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When natures angry...(Tsunami)
With a half filled stomach,
There futures bleak and helpless they are,
Is this less than a war?
With thousands dead,
Dead bodies piles up, as you see that far,
Is this less than a war?
Buildings reduced to rubble,
and like boat floats our car,
Is this less than a war?
mother holding her child,
and child searchin' for her father,
Is this less than a war?
poem by Prankul Agarwal
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Returning Home
In the smoke I smell
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
In the mist I see
All those who were once alive.
Behind me
Our town stands
Burned down to ashes;
Only skeletons remain.
This war has taken away so much.
In the rubble on the streets
I see
The way things once were.
Happy homes
Filled with laughter
Children playing
Stickball in the street.
Now
So much has been taken
Away from me.
We find bodies
In the yards, in the wells,
In our fields and on the streets;
Dead animals,
Dead neighbors, friends, and family members.
The war is over
And we are back.
To bury the dead,
To give hope to the young,
To start again.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Oh, who is afraid of life
Oh, who is afraid of life
The passion the sorrow and the strife?
In front of my window the multitudes are asleep
Sheltered so easily in their beds
Happy in their sleep as if they were dead
Yet I am alone and not dead
I wish not to lie in bed
Dead, dead, dead
Dead without any company
Here alone on my bed
with all these gracious thoughts about the world
These thoughts are fed by the sun
O life there is about you
This deep sense of sweet being
I would not have been without you here
Yet, you without me would have been the same
So let me stay, and stay more with you
Sweetness, joy, breath and rebirth
Keep away the death
copy rights 2010
Written-In-Red
(To Our Living Dead in Mexico's Struggle)
Written in red their protest stands,
For the gods of the World to see;
On the dooming wall their bodiless hands
have blazoned "Upharsin," and flaring brands
Illumine the message: "Seize the lands!
Open the prisons and make men free!"
Flame out the living words of the dead
Written-in-red.
Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb!
Your guns have spoken and they are dust.
But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb,
have felt the beat of a wakening drum
Within them sounding-the Dead men's tongue—
Calling: "Smite off the ancient rust!"
Have beheld "Resurrexit," the word of the Dead,
Written-in-red.
Bear it aloft, O roaring, flame!
Skyward aloft, where all may see.
Slaves of the World! Our cause is the same;
One is the immemorial shame;
One is the struggle, and in One name—
MANHOOD— we battle to set men free.
"Uncurse us the Land!" burn the words of the Dead,
Written-in-red.
poem by Voltairine de Cleyre
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Retrieved Poetry
Poetry is dead,
Some would say.
But the inspiration that befell the poet,
But the gods that cursed the poet
Would never allow him grow weary.
It keeps pouring out like morning dew
From sundown to cock crow.
Poetry is dead,
Some would say.
Those would get paid
That wishes it out of this world.
Judgement day, the pay day, even today
,
Memories linger of what the gods inspired.
Only poetry has survived a worldwide flood.
Poetry is dead,
Some have said.
But the inspiration keeps coming,
But the memory keeps living.
Poetry lives on even when the world is dead;
It dies only if it is not poetry
And there is only a good few poetry.
Poetry is dead,
Some have said.
Until we start seeing poetry as poetry
And nothing more, until that day,
Until we start thinking he is inspired,
Until we stop thinking for the poet;
He is possessed he is innocent.
Poetry is dead,
So goes the argument.
Even as we cut from the same tree,
Even as we speak same universal language,
You cannot cut deep if your axe's blunt.
We can never speak from same mouth.
You can only say your own thought.
Poetry is dead,
So goes the argument,
If poetry is dead killed by death,
If poetry is dead swallowed by death,
The corpse should be in our front.
We should know how to bury it.
We should dig not cover it with dust.
Poetry is dead,
If poetry is really dead,
There is cause to weep bitterly,
There is cause to think deeply
For the world has been stripped naked.
For poetry is great, ageless, timeless, bottomless
At the burial we must remain emotionless.
poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Or Alive
There in the shadows, looks like a hand
Without its owner, to give it a command
Its got a purpose but I dont know what it is
Im in trouble
There in the streets, looks like a man
But something wrong that I dont understand
His eyes are open but he dont see a thing
His skin is peeling off, his bones are sticking out
Im getting scared
Oh my God (is it dead? )
Is it living? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
(is it dead? ), is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
Hiding in the cupboards, like little mice
Hiding in the frigerator, that isnt nice
Its not an animal, it dont have legs
No one else can see it
It moves so fast, corner of my eye
Look again its gone, its hiding
Wont somebody help me, doesnt anybody care?
It waits so patiently, for me to lose my guard
Im getting scared
Is it dead, is it
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead or alive
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead, is it
I remember there was a time
When dead and buried meant just that
Underneath the cold dark ground
Things stay put!
Oh them bones they make them bodies walk
Them bones, them bones
If they could only talk!
Is it dead (fade)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Frozen Man
Last thing I remember is the freezing cold
Water reaching up just to swallow me whole
Ice in the rigging and howling wind
Shock to my body as we tumbled in
Then my brothers and the others are lost at sea
I alone am returned to tell thee
Hidden in ice for a century
To walk the world again
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
Next words that were spoken to me
Nurse asked me what my name might be
She was all in white at the foot of my bed
I said angel of mercy Im alive or am I dead
My name is william james mcphee
I was born in 1843
Raised in liverpool by the sea
But that aint who I am
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
It took a lot of money to start my heart
To peg my leg and to buy my eye
The newspapers call me the state of the art
And the children, when they see me, cry
I thought it would be nice just to visit my grave
See what kind of tombstone I might have
I saw my wife and my daughter and it seemed so strange
Both of them dead and gone from extreme old age
See here, when I die make sure Im gone
Dont leave em nothing to work on
You can raise your arm, you can wiggle your hand
And you can wave goodbye to the frozen man
I know what it means to freeze to death
To lose a little life with every breath
To say goodbye to life on earth
To come around again
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
Lord have mercy on the frozen man
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blackened
Blackened Is the End
Winter it Will Send
Throwing All You See
Into Obscurity
Death of Mother Earth
Never a Rebirth
Evolution's End
Never Will it Mend
Never
Fire
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Blackened Is the End
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Color Our World Blackened
Bustering of Earth
Terminate its Worth
Deadly Nicotine
Kills What Might Have Been
Callous Frigid Chill
Nothing Left to Kill
Never Seen Before
Breathing Nevermore
Never
Fire
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Blackened Is the End
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Color Our World Blackened
Blackened
Opposition...Contradiction...Premonition...Compromise
Agitation...Violation...Mutilation...Planet Dies
Darkest Color
Blistered Earth
True Death of Life
Termination....Expiration...Cancellation...Human Race
Expectation...Liberation...Population...Lay to Waste
See Our Mother
Put to Death
See Our Mother Die
Smouldering Decay
Take Her Breath Away
Millions of Our Years
In Minutes Disappears
Darkening in Vain
Decadence Remains
All Is Said and Done
Never Is the Sun
Never
Fire
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Blackened Is the End
To Begin Whipping Dance of the Dead
Fire
Is the Outcome of Hypocrisy
Darkest Potency
In the Exit of Humanity
Color Our World Blackened
Blackened
song performed by by Metallica from ...And Justice For All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Gods.
O ye gods, if you could tell us
What ye are — if banned or blest —
Ye that reigned of old in Hellas!
Ye that ruled the radiant West!
Old-born gods! The Past still flashes
In the eyes of Greece and Rome;
Ye are not mere dust and ashes
Urned for all the years to come.
Ye that ruled in heavenly places,
And the faith of mortals won!
Gods created by old races
Perished from beneath the sun;
Born of faith, and with it blended,
Ye shall yet the world inspire
Till the last breath has ascended
From the latest altar fire.
All the hopes and invocations
Breathed by lips of heroes dead,
All the genius of the nations
Who the march of Freedom led —
Though your temples broke and fell as
Dusty fanes of little worth —
These will keep you, gods of Hellas!
Still alive upon the earth.
poem by Robert Crawford
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23feb Which Is Worst?
no sleep
as many
so many
aftashocks
and strong
6 areas in cbd
Christchurch
Borough District
where people
still trapped
await fear what?
which is worst?
screams chill
agony
buried in rubble
bone broken
limbs torn
dust fear chokes
survivors
pinned alive
injury torment
or silence
where staff
make no sound
sandwiches
building
domino layers
slowly precisely
kiwi men
hand pick rubble
without pause delay
through aftashocks
rescue resolute mind set
screams still heard
mind shudder echoes
in ebb silence aftermath
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Help Haitians Now!
In just a few minutes of time,
The whole landscape was gone,
Undone by Mother Nature’s fury – Quake!
And no one ever imagined,
Catastrophe would strike,
Without fore-warning signs any that day!
The land was shaken severely;
Most buildings turned rubble,
With lakhs dead; maimed or missing; some still trapped.
The place was thrown in darkness fast;
Survivors took to streets;
Some groans and muffled cries for help are heard!
The world knew what had happened soon;
Relief trickled in late;
But no one can be truly blamed for it!
Concrete structures too had come down!
Utter chaos prevails;
The locals tried to save some lives, they could.
Why Haiti shook, no one can tell?
The victims need our love,
Consolation, help and care and prayers.
Can aid efforts be streamlined fast?
Will leaders work a deal?
Survivors need food, clothes and medicines!
There are some trapped and still alive;
There some dying fast;
Some are suffering agonizing pain!
The world can stall its scheduled plans;
Helping victims is prime;
Unite efforts to save unlucky lives!
O world! Act now and rather fast;
Time precious is ebbing;
Search the rubble; rescue lives that you can!
Pray God relents and showers grace;
Pray things get cleared out fast;
This is a test for faith and human love!
Be charitable, generous;
Show love for neighbors all;
Today ’tis Haiti; morrow could choose us!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-16-2010
poem by John Celes
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Globe in Chaos (A Kyrielle)
The righteous stay in immense gloom;
More evil minds are seen to bloom!
The modern world has gone more gay;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
More heinous crimes reach ears and eyes;
The innocent, victims of vice;
More souls from God have gone astray;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
The kinds of sins have grown galore;
The shame is less though hearts are sore;
More devils roam the world each day;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
A world of lucre has surfaced;
The young and old keep all amazed;
Yet, God is not their Light and way;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
More gadgets rule most fields these days;
More people walk with masked a face;
For sins, all men must surely pay;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
Ethics and morals seem all dead;
More children stay abused, misled;
God’s codes are broken every day;
Usher a new earth, God, I pray.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 16-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Gods Are Dead
The gods are dead? Perhaps they are! Who knows?
Living at least in Lempriere undeleted,
The wise, the fair, the awful, the jocose,
Are one and all. I like to think, retreated
In some still land of lilacs and the rose.
Once high they sat, and high o’er earthly shows
With sacrificial dance and song were greeted.
Once… long ago. But now, the story goes,
The gods are dead.
It must be true. The world, a world of prose,
Full-crammed with facts, in science swathed and sheeted,
Nods in a stertorous after-dinner doze!
Plangent and sad, in every wind that blows
Who will may hear the sorry words repeated: –
‘The Gods are Dead!’
poem by William Ernest Henley
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For His Warped Dreams Of Fame
Someone should have told him he should not murder others and then kill himself for fame
Since all he left of himself is his legacy of shame
A gun in the wrong hands can cause sorrow and tears
And the kin of his victims left to grieve for years.
For decades of years they will grieve for their loss
The burden of sorrow is a heavy cross
That the families of his victims are obliged to bear
Of the consequences of his actions he was not aware.
The kin of the dead gunman deserve sympathy
'Twas hardly their fault he lacked in empathy
He was old enough for to know right from wrong
He will not be remembered in story and song.
Mass murder by gun is no longer rare
Many unstable people with firearms in the big World out there
For his warped dreams of fame the innocents had to pay
They were in the wrong place at the wrong time that does seem sad to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Elegy for Japan
Over the tortured shores of Miyagi,
a spinning uranium sky, full of ghosts,
those taken during lovemaking, meals,
while singing their earthly songs,
whispering stories of their gone lives,
of the broken, the taken, the swept-away:
they tell of Owatatsumi, gathering the bodies
to his sunken necropolis, wrapped to sleep
in his ribbons of kelp; of children stolen by waves,
rocked to rest in the embrace of mermaids;
their passions by the sea, goods of their days,
of the polished mandolin, its gentle tune
carried away from long-fingered hands;
of the silk-tailed calligraphy brush, snapped
under the house; of painted, porcelain bowls
and carved chopsticks, separated from mouths.
They tell of the vanished, the interrupted,
of the never-again, and the once-was.
For the orphans with their bottomless eyes,
huddled on tatami mats in freezing shelters,
for the shattered man in the rubble, the frozen dog
in the mud, for Fukushima, Iwate, and Ibaraki,
for the crematoria belching and billowing without end,
for the trembling, twisted landscape, for all the lonely dead,
for the parents and children, husbands and wives,
and everything left unsaid, for you, for you, for you.
poem by Lauren Tivey
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The Return Of Pan
I stood upon the balcony with my brand new bride
The clink of bells came drifting down the mountainside
When in our sight something moved
- lightning eyed and cloven hooved -
The great God pan is alive!
He moves amid the modern world in disguise
Its possible to look into his immortal eyes
Hes like a man youd meet anyplace
Until you recognise that ancient face
The great God pan is alive!
At sea on a ship in a thunder storm
On the very night that christ was born
A sailor heard from overhead
A mighty voice cry pan is dead!
So follow christ as best you can
Pan is dead! long live pan!
From the olden days and up through all the years
From arcadia to the stone fields of inisheer
Some say the gods are just a myth
But guess who Ive been dancing with
The great God pan is alive!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll Sleep When I Am Dead
J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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