Related quotes: I hear a distant bugle...

Awaiting my next posting

I hear a distant bugle calling
bravely as the twilights falling
The plaintive notes of the last post,
when I’m alone affect me most.

As I remember those who fell
in defence of liberty.
Where they lie now no man can
but I remember vividly

Lofty, only five foot two
and his best mate big Geordie Green.
Taff Thomas and Dai Williams too.
I wonder what they might have been

Had death not claimed them one and all
selected them quite randomly.
Each time I hear that bugle call
a sense of guilt falls over me.

Why was I chosen to survive
to wed and raise a family.
When they gave all they had to give
each death a separate tragedy.

But I live on. I know not why
death chose my friends, left me behind.
The only thing I know is I
Must keep their memories in mind.

The plaintive notes the bugler plays
that drift across the fields to me
Will mark too, the end of my days
when I rejoin their company.

7-Feb-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

It's Death Again

It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'

The Reign of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death and I

When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.

A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.

My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.

When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –

Death and I so bound.

D eath Crawl

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fresh Endeavour

So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.

I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unforgettable In Your Ear

There are notes in music
that take you high.
And notes that take you low.
When you listen to the notes of music
you never know where you'll go.

Within one song the notes you hear
affect how you will feel.
A plaintive melody might make you sad
or remind you of your pain.
But all of that can change in a minute
as you feel your emotions drain.

Uplifting notes can bring to you
a few moments of ecstatic peace.
Each inspiring strain can take you where
you are able to release
whatever it was that was troubling you,
erase it for a minute or two.

These notes are magic and so is life.
They're there and then they're not.
They're a gift to you from composers
that plant a forget-me-not.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Is Not The End

When youre sad and when youre lonely and you havent got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that youve held sacred, falls down and does not mend
Just remember that death is no the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
When youre standing at the crossroads that you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished and you dont know whats up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
When the storm clouds gather round you, and heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And theres no one there to comfort you, with a helpin hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end
Oh, the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation shines
In dark and empty skies
When the cities are on fire with the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find just one law abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dying Soldiers Wish

(8/18/12)

We were soldiers young and brave
Now we lay here in our grave
Does anyone remember me when I lived
And that I had so much to give.

I wanted all the things that everyone else did
But my thoughts I had hid.
Knowing that I was going to war
To a far and distant shore.

I gave my life defending this land
I'm sure you understand that when duty calls
You are there to give freedom a helping hand.

Can you remember the color of my eyes or my hair
Do you remember the moments that we shared.
Do you remember the look and words unspoken
Of how our love would never be broken.

Do you remember my smile or my laughter
Or the goals that we was after.
I do not ask you to live in memories
But just once in a while to think of me.

Your thoughts will put my heart at ease
And I'll feel your gentle breeze
As you call out my name
Then I'll know I didn't die in vain.

Death does not take a back seat to war
Death is always at the door.

poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mark R. Slaughter

Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty

And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation

Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy

They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes

I rot
(They fade)

To be the plant
(They'll water)

I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter

Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind

That I of soul
Remain eternal

Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot

Flirts like a ballerina

STOPS

Wonders of the world

My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future

I'll wait
For his appraisal

A Trail of Death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fantasy or Fact? for friend C.P Sharma

I am not dead nor do I live.
I hover somewhere in between
No explanation I can give
will prove to be sufficient to.

Describe exactly how I feel.
I long to stay but want to go.
To who or what do I appeal?
I am confused I do not know.

When I return to consciousness
and find I am myself again.
Gone is the sense of timelessness.
I am content and free from pain.

I knew deaths door was open wide
but knew my family needed me.
I did not choose to step inside.
It could have been a fantasy.

I’m sure some few will understand
but only those who have been there.
Most will dismiss it out of hand.
Though not because they do not care.

They simply cannot comprehend
they lack the sensitivity.
To know that death can be a friend
who is prepared to set you free.

But in the end the choice is yours.
It is your life you must decide
which would be the better course.
To just give up or to abide.

I don’t remember which I chose
but obviously I am still here.
I must have chosen I suppose.
But on that point I am not clear.

I can remember vividly
The doctors crowding round my bed
Whilst I was floating happily
and watching from above their heads..

Fantasy or reality
I do not know but I am sure
That it has wrought a change in me
that’s permanent and will endure.

No longer will I fear to die.
I know that death is not the end.
I am quite sure but know not why.
My enemy is now my friend.

I know that death will set me free
When my time comes then I will go
Released from my earthly body.
Towards a future I can’t know.

22/10/2009
http: // blog.my space.com.poeticpiers]

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Company

Some can see its poetry
Come as you are in your broken car
The company
Carousel is wishing well
As a wonder night that spoke delight
To the company
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Broken dream, just a token scheme
Silver man with a telegram
For the company
Scalding blue, come talk to you
Search the cave for the grave
Of the company
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now
Can you hear the summer calling you
Can you hear him call you now

song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inevitability Of Death

Puffy lips glistening skin
And everything comes rushing in
We don't go to hell
memories of us do

I get a sense of connectedness
Exclusive tight but nothing dangerous
We don't go to hell memories of us do
And if you go to hell
I'll still remember you

But I thought you beat the death of inevitability
to death just a little bit
I though you beat the inevitability
of death
to death just a little bit

Terry's gift is forever green
it got me up and back on the scene
We don't go to hell
Just our memories do

Fantastic gap common space
Open concept in your smiling face
we don't go to hell memories of us do

And if you go to hell I'll still remember you

song performed by by The Tragically Hip from Day For Night
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How sick the plaintive violin

how sick the plaintive violin
even more so when long long-drawn
its drawl how plaintive is, how sick:
even when less slow it is drawn
the plaintive notes still flow, still sick
and in the night, the long dark night
still plays the plaintive violin.

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death’s Too Near

Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!

Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!

Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!

Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, Inevitable Death

Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.

Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’

Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?

Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beldame of Death

A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!

I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.

I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.

Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.

A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…

'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '

Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:

'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!

Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '

I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...

On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.

Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night Close

Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned -
No one cried or mourned.

Scorned by all
- My fellow race -
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.

Line of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Punishment

There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.

Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.

And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?

And will He care...?

'Tis down to Him.

Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sinner's Visit from Death

Whence the reek, the sombre clouds?
Those of billows gargantuan;
Of storms immense, blushing black,
Wishing sought of me to assess?

And have I passed? I have?
Hence I hear a knock on oak;
Unwelcomed, dullened cloak
Flowing dourly - it was a bitter breeze.

‘Have you mulled my sins? ' I ask.
‘Have you seen my impotence -
Though observe destruction at mine hands?
Forgive me, I am but Man.'

‘And are not sinners forgiven? ' I excuse,
‘Hence forgiveness avoids me of Hell?
Must my Demons of Sin revisit eternally
And reflect back on me to suffer well

The synergy of vengeance and wrath?
Are you not now pitying of my terror?
See my withering, regretful flesh -
Feel you not my tardy repentance? '

But Death just focused his stare,
That which pierced my pulseless heart,
For I was empty of remorse in all my years.
He knew that - and led me away.

Death death death
Death death death death death
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victor Galbraith. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

Under the walls of Monterey
At daybreak the bugles began to play,
Victor Galbraith!
In the mist of the morning damp and gray,
These were the words they seemed to say:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'

Forth he came, with a martial tread;
Firm was his step, erect his head;
Victor Galbraith,
He who so well the bugle played,
Could not mistake the words it said:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'

He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky,
He looked at the files of musketry,
Victor Galbraith!
And he said, with a steady voice and eye,
'Take good aim; I am ready to die!'
Thus challenges death
Victor Galbraith.

Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red,
Six leaden balls on their errand sped;
Victor Galbraith
Falls to the ground, but he is not dead;
His name was not stamped on those balls of lead,
And they only scath
Victor Galbraith.

Three balls are in his breast and brain,
But he rises out of the dust again,
Victor Galbraith!
The water he drinks has a bloody stain;
'O kill me, and put me out of my pain!'
In his agony prayeth
Victor Galbraith.

Forth dart once more those tongues of flame,
And the bugler has died a death of shame,
Victor Galbraith!
His soul has gone back to whence it came,
And no one answers to the name,
When the Sergeant saith,
'Victor Galbraith!'

Under the walls of Monterey
By night a bugle is heard to play,
Victor Galbraith!
Through the mist of the valley damp and gray
The sentinels hear the sound, and say,
'That is the wraith
Of Victor Galbraith!'

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Awaiting my next posting

Related quotes

It's Death Again

Death and I

Disingenuousness

A Fresh Endeavour

Unforgettable In Your Ear

Death Is Not The End

Dying Soldiers Wish

Mark R. Slaughter

Fantasy or Fact? for friend C.P Sharma

Company

Inevitability Of Death

How sick the plaintive violin

Death’s Too Near

Death, Inevitable Death

Beldame of Death

In Death, My Final Part

Night Close

Punishment

Sinner's Visit from Death

Victor Galbraith. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

En.Citatepedia^®.ro