Related quotes: . i die honourably. committing...

Saving Face.

i die honourably.
committing hara kiri
erases my disgrace.

only a coward
evades responsibility
for his past actions.

honour demands
I must voluntarily
draw my blade across.

cut from left to right
die slowly in agony
suffer stoically.

.until a good friend
strikes off my head: sets me free
from my misery.

seldom seen today.
but in the past the only way
to correct mistakes.

to die honourably
committing hara kiri.
erases all disgrace

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Keeping My Mistakes Replayed

Keeping my mistakes replayed,
Is just too much.
With a play decaying,
Out of touch!
And...
Erases what we gave to save.

Keeping my mistakes replayed,
Is just too much.
With increasing hating...
Rough enough,
To...
Knock me out on my behind.

Not taking a chill pill that could heal,
Erases what we gave to save.
To let the spilling of milk just build,
Erases what we gave to save.
And a pouting grouched over mole hills,
Erases what we gave to save...
That kept manifesting raged days,
And made me run away.
Yes.
Made me run away.

Keeping my mistakes replayed,
Is just too much.
With a play decaying,
Out of touch!
And...
Erases what we gave to save.

Keeping my mistakes replayed,
Is just too much.
With increasing hating...
Rough enough,
To...
Knock me out on my behind.
And that time is not mine to find.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Proto...

Today the poem was still on the brink
of completion,
but never came to an end.
The whole day it was burning
in restless mind
and I looked down from a hopeless height.

No further movement of thoughts,
only dizziness.
I craved for a clear vision
between retinal haemorrhages.

Was it a hara-kiri?
I cannot move the pen.
Being half or complete
what was right?
There is no completeness,
only recalls of piecemeals.

Hiding behind excuses and myths,
failed to go for vivisection.
Or life failing to talk to death.
One day
I will pay for closing the door.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Im In Disgrace

The first time that I saw you
You were the lady of my dreams.
The very next time I had to make you mine,
And I treated you like a queen.
The third time that I saw you
You treated me with such distaste,
Now I wish Id never seen your face.
Im in disgrace,
Im in disgrace.
Because I fell for your pretty face,
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
You captured me in your embrace.
Theres no use blaming me
And saying I was your ruination
Because it was you equally
That got us into this situation.
It wasnt lust, it wasnt rape,
It was just a mistake
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
Because I fell for your pretty face.
Im in disgrace. shes in disgrace.
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
You captured me in your embrace.
Was your love real or faked?
Or was it only infatuation?
Picture you in my place.
I wish Id acted with a little less haste.
Im in disgrace.
Im in disgrace.
Because I fell for your pretty face.
Oh what a waste. hes in disgrace.
Im in disgrace. hes in disgrace.
Now my names dirt and Im disgraced.
Im in disgrace.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

There's Always Tomorrow

Top Model, actress and glamour girl
with a lovely smile just like a pearl
walked through Paris quite elegantly
with Scarlett O'Hara propensity.
Admiring glances flew quite freely on
the Avenue of the Champs Elysees.
But her feminine charm soon did wane
and had 'gone with the wind' and the rain.

Droplets fell down her beautiful face
mascara became a frightful disgrace;
those brunette locks were straggly
and wet - not one sweet glance
did she beget. Oh what humility
descended that morn on Scarlet O'Hara
lost and forlorn. But a voice from within
said secretly 'There's always tomorrow'
.......... 'fiddle-de-dee'..........

poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Commit To Suicide

I'm in my room,
In darkness and cold,
I am thinking of committing suicide.

I'm always alone,
And never having any fun,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.

I run away from home,
I'm no where to be found,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.

I have a knife in my hand,
And this note in the other,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.

Now that I am alone,
With this knife to my chest,
I'm about to commit suicide.

I say my last word,
' This was my fat and goodbye, '
I'm about to commit suicide.

I take my last breath,
And now I am dead,
I have just commit to suicide.

poem by Sam S.Slait
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Committing Suicide

God it seems so sad he held his pain inside
And chose to end his life committing suicide.
Believing no one cared wishing he was gone
He somehow lost the strength and will to just move on.
Not seeking help he needed or confiding in a friend
He decided painful feelings are feelings that don't end.
So reaching for the gun he raised it to his head
And pulled the trigger back and instantly was dead.
Leaving many questions to all those left behind
And answers they could search for but somehow never find.
No one ever knew his feelings no one knew he cried
Or why he chose to end his life
'Committing Suicide.'

poem by Sherri Vogel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

O'Hara, J.P.

James Patrick O'Hara the Justice of Peace,
He bossed the P.M. and he bossed the police;
A parent, a deacon, a landlord was he—
A townsman of weight was O’Hara, J.P.

He gave out the prizes, foundation-stones laid,
He shone when the Governor’s visit was paid;
And twice re-elected as Mayor was he—
The flies couldn’t roost on O’Hara, J.P.

Now Sandy M‘Fly, of the Axe-and-the-Saw,
Was charged with a breach of the licensing law—
He sold after hours whilst talking too free
On matters concerning O’Hara, J.P.

And each contradicted the next witness flat,
Concerning back parlours, side-doors, and all that;
‘Twas very conflicting, as all must agree—
‘Ye’d better take care!’ said O’Hara, J.P.

But ‘Baby,’ the barmaid, her evidence gave—
A poor, timid darling who tried to be brave—
‘Now, don’t be afraid—if it’s frightened ye be—
‘Speak out, my good girl,’ said O’Hara, J.P.

Her hair was so golden, her eyes were so blue,
Her face was so fair and her words seemed so true—
So green in the ways of sweet women was he
That she jolted the heart of O’Hara, J P.

He turned to the other grave Justice of Peace,
And whispered, ‘You can’t always trust the police;
‘I’ll visit the premises during the day,
‘And see for myself,’ said O’Hara, Jay Pay.
(
Case postponed
.)

’Twas early next morning, or late the same night—
‘’Twas early next morning’ we think would be right—
And sounds that betokened a breach of the law
Escaped through the cracks of the Axe-and-the-Saw.
And Constable Dogherty, out in the street,
Met Constable Clancy a bit off his beat;
He took him with finger and thumb by the ear,
And led him around to a lane in the rear.

He pointed a blind where strange shadows were seen—
Wild pantomime hinting of revels within—
‘We’ll drop on M‘Fly, if you’ll listen to me,
‘And prove we are right to O’Hara, J. P.’’

But Clancy was up to the lay of the land,
He cautiously shaded his mouth with his hand—
‘Wisht, man! Howld yer whisht! or it’s ruined we’ll be,
‘It’s the justice himself—it’s O’Hara, J.P.’

They hish’d and they whishted, and turned themselves round,
And got themselves off like two cats on wet ground;
Agreeing to be, on their honour as men,
A deaf-dumb-and-blind institution just then.

Inside on a sofa, two barmaids between,
With one on his knee was a gentleman seen;
And any chance eye at the keyhole could see
In less than a wink ’twas O’Hara, J.P.

The first in the chorus of songs that were sung,
The loudest that laughed at the jokes that were sprung,
The guest of the evening, the soul of the spree—
The daddy of all was O’Hara, J.P.

And hard-cases chuckled, and hard-cases said
That Baby and Alice conveyed him to bed—
In subsequent storms it was painful to see
Those hard-cases side with the sinful J.P.

Next day, in the court, when the case came in sight,
O’Hara declared he was satisfied quite;
The case was dismissed—it was destined to be
The final case of O’Hara, J.P.

The law and religion came down on him first—
The Christian was hard but his wife was the worst!
Half ruined and half driven crazy was he—
It made an old man of O’Hara, J. P.

Now, young men who come from the bush, do you hear?
Who know not the power of barmaids and beer—
Don’t see for yourself! from temptation steer free,
Remember the fall of O’Hara, J.P.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Success in the end erases all the mistakes along the way.

Chinese proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Needle Time

I wish that I didn't hate you
Least not as much as I do
And squander all my contempt for
A little nothing like you
Liars like you are ten-a-penny
Women would slap you, if you knew any
Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
I've got this suitcase of phony wisdom to dispense
These twenty-seven or so years
You'd think I (would have) made them some cents
Now they want me fingerprinted
Like I was smuggling drugs
While the government does deals with the most convenient thugs
Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
It's Needle Time
I'm trying not to despise you with a passion that is hard to extinguish
Or maybe I really love you
Although it's hard to distinguish
I wish I could be
A little more like a saint is
Forgiving those who trespass against us
Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
I started talking nonsense, just like I did to begin with
Around the time I tired of those sour English
Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
It's Needle Time

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Rape...

A horrible crime
Rape.....loss of innocence,
didn't have a choice,
Nobody heard my voice,
memory of the past,
hope it crosses my mind
erases out of my memory,
so i don't have to remember the past
i wish she didn't tell me to go to the park
so I would still have it
my innocence i mean
I used to be so clean
now i'm violated, unclean and dirty
and the guilt is killing me
even though its not my fault
i feel as though it is
when she left something told me to go i could have left
I should have listened to that voice
and ran.....but no.....i choose to stay
and he accomplished his mission
what he set out to do
i was only 13 years old.....he was 16
i hated every minute of it
I closed my eyes and imagined I was invisible
but he took all the invisibility
inside of me and i still remember the day
the scene keeps playing in my head like a movie
Rape.....didn't have a choice
Rape.....nobody heard my voice.

poem by Brittany Mischel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!