The shade of death
The shade of death is made of a canopy piercing cold
That mortal eyes ache and cannot comprehend or behold
Yet when mortal eyes are closed
And death, cold and pale the limbs reposed
Shall the disposed soul then wakes and roaming it seen
Asking: 'where are Eden's Golden keys? '
Some claim that grave is Heaven' gate
Where rich as poor, royal as commoner, all around it wait
A tale, a fairy, a feeble since old age told
Yet no one from there returned to this story enfold
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Related quotes
To the Queen
The Door of Death is made of Gold,
That Mortal Eyes cannot behold;
But, when the Mortal Eyes are clos'd,
And cold and pale the Limbs repos'd,
The Soul awakes; and, wond'ring, sees
In her mild Hand the golden Keys:
The Grave is Heaven's golden Gate,
And rich and poor around it wait;
O Shepherdess of England's Fold,
Behold this Gate of Pearl and Gold!
To dedicate to England's Queen
The Visions that my Soul has seen,
And, by Her kind permission, bring
What I have borne on solemn Wing,
From the vast regions of the Grave,
Before Her Throne my Wings I wave;
Bowing before my Sov'reign's Feet,
“The Grave produc'd these Blossoms sweet
“In mild repose from Earthly strife;
“The Blossoms of Eternal Life!”
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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For you woman I shall not die
For you woman I shall not die
You woman of notorious name and high fame
Only foolish men with piercing eyes you may slay
But I and they are not the same
Why should I expire
for your eyes' fire
Ha slender waist? So what?
And for your swanlike limbs? I say tat
But I run from your round breast
the fresh skin, the crimson checks
hair like a waterfall, long and rich
Indeed, Indeed I shall hold
through sturdy high walls and wide moat
Please God! Not me for any such
yet the golden hair my eyes enthralled
the forehead thin, the gracious ears
the rounded heel, the languid tone
Oh fools! For fools alone find death from these
Mercy, your sharp wit, your perfect palm
The chaste mien, the white neck,
the brown eyes, your beautiful soul
has my heart as its goal
You graceful woman as a swan
wise man, while still wise, run
Or else plea to guardian God:
Save me or stab me before I succumb
Little palm? A White neck? or a bright eyes?
I shall not die for thee
Oh God let it not be me
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I Sleep in Death
I Sleep In Death
............................
Such sweet caress
the soil - no less -
engulfed my mortal soul
In slumber sleep
Please do not weep
for what you can't have
nor hold
For I am gone
do not look upon
my grave
with sadness see
For I sleep in Death
no tear nor breath
will ever now depart
from thee...
Copyright
{c}2009
Wayne Leon Learmond
I Sleep In Death
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poem by Wayne Leon Learmond
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An Autumn Night
An autumn night, so bitter chill it is
An owl, for all its plum and thick feathers is cold
The hare long ago rushed limping trembling through the frozen maze
Into a lair, and silent stark are the song birds on a woody enfold
Naked trees with barren boughs, no leaf does tremble, no ripple there
On the streets, all abandoned still under the night sleepy eye
The world so deserted from any human sign or care
Darkness reign on dreary routes with echoing cry
And the moon whether prudish or shy in this cold night
Has fled to her bower, well reluctant to lend her dimming light
No light in this oppressing darkness, no fume no torch in the gloom
Is this world ever waken, do these trees ever bloom
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Past love
Is it you I keep thinking of, dreaming of still?
Should I feel like I do; shall I do like I feel?
I come to realize that I do miss your love and sooth
While I am not missing your harsh manners and capricious reproof
We ran our love; the golden largess of our praise
Till it was gone,
So it came; so it fell to the flower of cankered mal
It would not let it be as it was; sieged in fatal
It is not a word spoken or a gesture token,
Few words are said; silence is pure innocent guide
Nor even a look piercing of the sharp eyes
Nor a bend or a nod of the head,
But only a calm hush overwhelming the heart
That has too much to contemplate and to keep,
Only memories waking, running through the unsettled mind
That sleeps so light a sleep; if rests such a short.
There is no magic between us any more,
We meet; we behave; we react as other people do,
Your presence works no miracle for me
Does mine play any perfumed reminiscence to you?
Nothing will be changed now
After so many years all unshaken stand;
Like sluttish ware out tomb stones in grave yard
Life has not broken it with parting or panting tears;
Death will not alter it either,
My heart against you will never rebel;
My feelings in my heart do live on
Long after love past; they are in all my songs
When I am perished and gone.
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fact Of Life
I need to find a secret place,
Entirely drawn by closed space
And disinherit my presence
In this world until I have been convinced...
My truant spirit to return
To the daily education
Required of a mortal
To learn and overcome with completion...
What can I say,
What can I do?
That is life,
Manifested in a different way...!
©All Rights Reserved-2010
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Savage Time
Savage cruel Time that in your claws we deposit our trust
And youth, and our joy, and our all, whole we have and hope
And what we are paid back by your deceitful trade? earth and dust
In that dark eternal final state of grave with no upward slope
You take us, pluck us from the world; before we mature our ways
Shut up, closed and wrap in shroud the story of our undone days
Ah, from this earth, this grave this dust none of us revive or last
We are gone abandoned by all around; left with no trust
Daily we count the clock that measures you Time
And we watch bereft of a brave day sinking into hideous night
Our violet timid and shy yields to you its prime
as our heads all silvered over with white
And nothing against your scythe can make defense still
Unless we breed our beauties forth to escape your eternal skill
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And the was
And the was like it never had been
As if it is forgotten to be a never happen
It drifts away into the far mists of the past
Lovers first sight, zeal rapture and the engulfing lust
Time is a generous entrepreneur it let us grow old
The memories will be encapsulated in thin fragile patina
Being dappled with daily events unlikely attendants in our arena
Thus the was story never happened its shadow flickers into me cold
It is the world habit that love asks more than life can give
And once this lesson learned all essence is earned
Yet in its self web of fantasy and dreams love is its own fugitive
Rebellious, tenacious, delirious unwilling to give or to bend
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
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An Old nymph
Old nymph guarding your gracious mirror you may find
And by this taunting picture learn to dress your mind
None of your frowns can make a tender lover afraid
Soft looks of memory grace your unfortunate shade
And while your gaze at what your prime used to appear
Waning passion forbid; locking your tears
Like narcissus has a different fate to prove
Even your walk and your gait are out of your past moves
And my verse has not this powerful rhyme
That outlives marble and gilded monuments
Of kings and knights to let you shine in these contents
When lying beneath unswept tomb besmeared with sluttish time
For against death and other all oblivious enmity
It offers no pace forth where your praise can find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wears and tares our world down to doom
So live temporally like a season flower
In the judgment that your generation rises
And die with this not to eternally dwell in lovers' eyes
With my verse in shallow river bed to rush never to tower
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Her two great eyes
Her two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty so stunningly shakes and penetrates me who once was serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick sharp and keen.
This is such a rare beauty my eyes never before have seen
Only her word; her smile or any tune will heal the injury
To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean -
Her pair of two great eyes will slay me suddenly and savagely without a jury;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene.
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Ah love, but a day
Ah love, but a day
And the world on me has changed
The sun is away
And the birds to me estranged
One painful word from her voluptuous lips
And my whole world eclipsed
A bitter punctuating word, in a piercing phrase
My life is phased
The wind in mid air has dropped
And the skies grey, dull, deranged
Summer has stopped cold
Autumn perplexed over warmed
Stars in the murky skies madly shot
The pale moon in its orbit lost
Come, grow old with me
And the best yet to be
So you said
So I dread
Look me love in my eyes
Will you change too?
Shall I fear what I did not see?
Shall I find aught new?
In the old and the dear
In the good and true
With the changing year
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In the inferno of my love session
In the inferno of my love session
And in the madness of my passion
It was heedless on my part
To empower and to delegate authority to my heart
Once bestowed merely on my reason
Herein my reasons I construe
Because my feelings were so full and overwhelming
I could see you in my soul
So much in my soul whole
That I spoke to you within my soul
To such madness I had come
In the blessing of your love
That even imagined your slightest boon
Could drive me to delirium
This I find in my affection
And even more that I cannot convey
But you, from all I did not say
Will sense the love beyond expression
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Who would be there to tell me
Who would be there to tell me
When I catch my falling star
where all my past years are
Many friends of mine in owe and plea
The ones I stirred for love like industrious bee
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth
A man to fortune and to fame is unknown
Fair science frowned not in his humble birth
And misfortune with melancholy marked him for their own
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere
Heaven did a recommence as largely said
He gave to misery all he had, a tear
He gained from Heaven, it was all he wished, he never fret
No further seek his merits to disclose
Or draw his frailties from their clear abode
There they alike in trembling hope repose
The bosom of his soul believes and God
Let the moon climb over the grave into the vaults of the skies
How silent is the world, and how with a wane dimming face
What, may it be that even in Heavenly eternal place
This divine archer, this Queen of the night her sharp arrows tries
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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There will come
There will come upon the earth, calm spring time
When soft rains fall and raise the adores of wet ground
And flowers leap and bloom into their prime
As the swallows circle and bounce in vast meadows, shimmering sound
And no one will know of my time under the sun
And no one will reflect or contemplate of my days, not one
Not even one would mind, neither happy bird on a bough tree
That I have perished; erased diminished with no memory utterly
Come red black Robins and wear your feathery fire,
Whistling your whims on a low summer wind stirring fence-wire
And fat oily frogs in a garden pool, sing your rhythm all night
And tree heavy with late season foliage play the wind that turn you white
The world will go on as we do when an acquaintance dies
We hurry to burry and move as if it never concerns our fates; blinding our eyes
Oh that first Spring after death, herself when she wakes at dawn
Minding her course would scarcely notice that we were gone.
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A tale i was told
Right as i was told their handwriting were'nt bold
so; our forefathers were sold
that their conscience they had sold
but to me; a fairy tale better not told
i was young
and the music seem dingdong
to me at dawn,
the story seem sown
not till i was told
it was a fairy tale better not told.
Unaware in the market; they haggle
to them, the reward a cry
and they saw no battle
but on this path, i dare not ply
To me; a fairy tale better not told.
What seem a tale
to me a dog without tail
on our fall i was
when the tale went on without a pause
to me a fairy better not told.
poem by Atimiwoaye Adetunji dayo
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The Green Fairy (Absinthe)
The Green Fairy visits me
From an apothecary jar
And gives to me
a Commoner’s taste of heaven
Libations for one and all
In close proximity
not from afar.
In smoke filled rooms
Of curling delights
I see diamonds
Reflected in all the lights
And Illumination
From the green glow
Possessed by the café’s glasses.
All is forgiven and forgotten
Within those walls of shame
There is a warmth and a comfort
To all its dismay…
As night turns toward midnight…
and midnight runs toward day.
There is no real obscure focus…
No magical hocus pocus
No real concentration of veritable belief
That the green fairy hides behind.
As absinthe begins and then continues on
to rule my body and my mind
And spirits me away
To a life of shortened days
But hours lengthened by the devotion
To The Green Fairy.
(November 26,2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
poem by Christine A Kysely
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A walk in the park
I saw them walking in a park under bright summer day
She and him in a walk of lovers calm pray
He the man I might have grown to be
She my lover, I so yearn to live and love in rapture and glee
His hair was full in mane drawing light and people sight
Tall and handsome, an ora in stature and in height
Unlike me of insignificant form and small diminished frame
Shall I compare myself to him, I can make no claim
Yet His body was a thing grown thin stark,
Like as if hungry for love that never came;
His soul was frozen in the park so aimless and dark,
Unwarmed untouched forever by love's flame.
I felt my lover instantaneously look at him
And then turn suddenly to me –
Her eyes were magic to defy in grim
The unfortunate compare I dread; the man I shall never be.
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