Thankless Task.
Thankless Task.
Death never takes a holiday.
He has too long a waiting list.
He has to work twelve hours a day.
Because we humans will persist.
In fighting wars for no good cause.
We cannot learn to live in peace
We always think that sheer brute force
Will overcome our enemies..
It seems that we will never learn
violence begets violence
and hatred will hatred return
We seem bereft of moral sense.
When friendship can pay dividends.
Why human beings choose to fight
Make enemies instead of friends.
When they could do the opposite,
Death never takes a holiday.
Although really needs a rest..
He has to work twelve hours a day.
He has good reason to protest.
Perhaps when the last man dies.
Then death can take a holiday.
He will rejoice at our demise.
And who could blame him anyway.
Thursday,25 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pleasant Thoughts
A holiday, a holiday,
a real chance to get away.
To catch a plane, a boat, a train,
or cruise on down the inside lane.
With different views and how-do-you-dos,
and many interesting venues.
A holiday, a holiday.
Having found a place to stay,
enjoy the sights that greet the eyes,
sea, sun and sand with clear blue skies.
All of these things can so make your break,
a time to rest and ruminate.
A holiday, a holiday,
well inland, or out in a bay.
Sail a yacht maybe. Play a spot
of golf. Then if it gets too hot,
rest beside a pool. And to cool down,
take a dip, or turn a glowing brown.
A holiday, a holiday.
Book it right now with no delay.
Choose somewhere you would like to be,
locations for serenity,
siestas out under the stars,
or ones for fun and noise in bars.
A holiday, a holiday.
There’s something that I want to say.
Have a really long super spell,
of relaxation. One can dwell
on pleasant thoughts. Troubles to quell.
Revival of body and mind,
rejuvenating humankind.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Who was he? Welsh bardic form
Cywydd Llosgynrog.
I am forced to live alone
All those I knew long since gone.
There’s no one left who loves me.
This must be the penalty
I pay for longevity
It will be my turn soon
I am waiting patiently
Death will claim me finally
I will be happy to go.
There’ll be nothing left of me
but a fading memory
Which will be soon forgotten.
Thursday,11 February 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Holiday
Well the super models in those magazines
They've been to places that I've never dreamed
Well they look so nice out on some sandy beach
But for me I've always found it out of reach
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
The hotel and life for me would be alright
We could always catch an early mornin' flight
As you treat yourself like in a movie scene
But its just another place I've never been
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
I call you up on your telephone
And leave a message there since your not home
I've got to go I've got to get away
Please come and take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Last nite I dreamed I was in Sante Fe
And then went on a flight to San Jose
Well I know that you don't really like to fly
But to see the world maybe you'd like to try
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Need a holiday
Holiday
Holiday
Holiday
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Equal rights
Why should I love my enemy?
My enemy does not love me
Why should I turn the other cheek?
and give him cause to think I’m weak.
I show my enemy respect
but let him know that I expect
from him similar courtesy.
He can and will expect from me.
If he is wise he understands
I will not bow to his commands.
I am quite sure I have the right
To fight if I am forced to fight.
I can accept you don’t like me
And I dislike you equally
You have the right to your own view
You must remember I do too.
It’s possible to disagree
And yet not be an enemy.
I think we have the right to choose
If we so wish opposing views.
I do not choose my enemies
I would much rather we were friends
I think my enemies choose me
My rights I will fight to defend.
7-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Karma
To sleep, perchance to dream and wake no more
I know I have to stay but long to go
and leave behind me all my cares and woe
Back to where I have often been before.
A place of rest in which I can restore
my weary spirit easily I know.
In soft green meadows where the waters flow
and work out what the future holds in store.
I must return I’ve lesson yet to learn
I am sure that death is not the end
but just another step along the way
Towards perfection for which I yearn.
Each wrongful action which I can’t defend
I know that I must suffer in my turn.
31-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Taboo
I find it rather curious
There are some things we don’t discuss,
not even with our closest friends.
As if our peace of mind depends
on the pretence that we won’t die.
Despite its crass stupidity
We know it is a certainty
but do not know the reason why.
Why is to talk of death taboo
.Except to the enlightened few.
Who believe that death is going to
set them free to start again.
Death is a door we all pass through
we should not fear it but we do
12-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Lady in waiting.2011
I live alone, my family
and all my friends are long since gone.
There’s no one left who cares for me.
Others have problems of their own.
I’ve had my share of happiness
and known the depths of misery.
My life now seems to matter less.
So I am waiting patiently.
For death to come and set me free.
Each night I pray I will not wake..
I think that death’s forgotten me
just overlooked me by mistake.
I’d welcome death quite happily
but even deaths abandoned me.
Friday,18 February 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Holiday Road
I found out long ago
It's a long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Jack be nible, Jack be quick
Take a ride on a West Coast kick
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
I've come back long ago
Long way down the Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
Holiday Road
song performed by by Lindsey Buckingham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work-Girls' Holiday
A lady has a thousand ways
Of doing nothing all her days,
And so she thinks that they're well spent,
She can be idle and content.
But when I have a holiday
I have forgotten how to play.
I could rest idly under trees
When there's some sun or little breeze
Or if the wind should prove too strong
Could lie in bed the whole day long.
But any leisured girl would say
That that was waste of holiday.
Perhaps if I had weeks to spend
In doing nothing without end,
I might learn better how to shirk
And never want to go to work.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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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!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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
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Oh, Stop the Wars, Man!
Oh, stop the wars, Man
Let peace prevail again;
Wars bring more death
And destruction, not peace;
Christmas is near-
The birthday of Jesus;
He brings both joy
And peace to good-willed men!
Oh, stop the wars, Man!
For, they are meaningless;
No nation should
Invade the other;
The blood of innocent lives lost
Cries out to God for revenge;
Violence begets
Violence always.
Oh, stop the wars, Man!
And stop the mad killings;
The air and soil
And water get polluted;
What colossal wastes
Of lives, money and materials!
Do leaders know
That wars boomerang?
Oh, stop the wars, Man!
Let nations live in peace;
Nature’s furies,
We must always face.
Use the money
To build the earth,
And help the poor.
Only then, God will bless
Your own country!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-13-2006
poem by John Celes
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The only Way to go.
Some choose to grow old quietly
but others take a different view.
They chose to live disgracefully.
Why should you give up having fun.
Because you’ve reached a certain age.
There are still things you haven’t done.
You want to do before you die
Though your time may be limited.
You see no reason not to try
To make your madcap dreams come true.
Why should you sit and vegetate
as other folks expect you to.
You are the captain of your fate.
So you can do what you want to.
Tomorrow may be far too late.
So do it now immediately.
Regardless of the consequence.
What does it matter anyway?
Society may not agree.
You have the right to your own view
Choose to act disgracefully.
You’ll find that life is much more fun
than sitting watching the T.V.
Show the world you’re still someone
Seize every opportunity
that life’s prepared to offer you.
To shock your neighbours thoroughly.
They choose to sit and wait to die.
You choose to do the opposite.
You won’t surrender easily/
But fight until your final breath
because it is your nature to
Although you know you can’t beat death.
You know that one day you must die
but until then you choose to live
Just as you wish disgracefully.
01/09/09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Final solution
The countless dead unburied lay beneath a covering of clay.
The good earth turned to dark red mud mixed with the best of soldier’s blood.
It mattered not how many died for death could not be satisfied.
Brave men who fought for their country. Death chose amongst them randomly.
I lived although my comrades died. Death often took them from my side.
Why did I live? So I can tell the world about the living hell
wich we endured knee deep in mud. I think it fitting that I should.
So many died on either side. Involuntary suicide
To fight a war they could not win, to no more see their kith and kin
Like every war it proved to be a total waste, a mockery
The cream of Europe’s fighting mem would never see their homes again.
What did it prove the First World War? Nothing we had not known before!
Though we remember those who died. The lessons learned are not applied
for men still battle constantly to prove superiority.
It seems mankind can’t live in peace, that wanton killing will not cease
Until death has added to his score the last man and there are no more.
I think that then and only then the world will be at peace again.
16/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A whole new ball game.
The time had come for me to go and leave the world of work behind
I was not sure, did not know how I would occupy my mind
To fill the long hours of the day. I knew some things I’d like to try.
But work had left small time for play and now there s was no reason why.
My times my own an I am free to try my hand at something new
from pottery to poetry and that is what I mean to do.
It may seem strange but now I find there are too few hours in the day.
To do the things I have in mind. I look at life a different way.
Retirement wrought a change in me I do the thing I want to do
I have no one to please but me. Something you can look forward to.
When you too leave the world of work behind. You’ll be too busy to regret.
The years you spent as a wage slave you’ll be quite happy to forget.
19-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I am a man!
I am a man full grown.
I have the right to choose
To make my way alone
What have I got to lose? .
If I refuse to do
as you expect me to.
I owe nothing to you
I will choose my own way.
Today and every day
I am man, my own man
Friday,05 March 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have borne its dread, its fear—
Oh, how my life has grown more dear
Since I have felt the sense of death!
Sorrows are good, and cares are small,
Since I have known the loss of all.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
And death forever at my side—
Oh, how the world has opened wide
Since I have felt the sense of death!
My hours are jewels that I spend,
For I have seen the hours end.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have looked on that black night—
My inmost brain is fierce with light
Since I have felt the sense of death.
O dark, that made my eyes to see!
O death, that gave my life to me!
poem by Helen Hoyt
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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.
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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Sick fancies of a tired mind
A bell rings out, a deep toned bell.
A single chime; that’s ominous.
What does that single chime foretell?
So resonant and sonorous
It marks the passing of the hour.
Perhaps the passing of a soul
It issues from the ivied tower
and echoes imitate its toll.
I long to know but I must wait
while night hours crawl slowly past
deliberately to agitate.
It seems to me the night hours last
much longer than they ought to do.
When aches and pains keep me awake
Although I know it isn’t true.
It seems to be for pity’s sake.
My morbid fancies lead me to
conclusions that I should not draw
As morbid fancies tend to do
more often than they did before.
There’s nothing left in life for me
I’ve run my race I’m satisfied
That friendly death will set me free.
I‘ve been alone since my wife died.
I know I won’t hear my death knell
I find the thought amuses me
but there is no one I can tell
about this thought that tickles me.
When my call comes I will rejoice
I’ve long been waiting patiently
but we are given little choice
I will greet my death eagerly.
I’m weary and I long to go
but know I have to wait my turn.
Although I wish it wasn’t so
I must wait patiently and yearn.
16-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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We Want A Poem Of Peace/We Cannot Write (A Poem of Israel)
We want a poem of Peace we cannot write
Because Reality does not let us
Because too much Hatred and Violence
Because our enemies do not let us-
We want a poem of peace
But we do not have enough power in the world
To write it-
The Reality of threats and dangers from too many enemies
And the need to fight for survival
Does notlet us-
We want a Poem of Peace
And an ordinary quiet everyday life
But there are just too many out there
Who wish to destroy us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here