The Unclean
Defiled, bleeding cadaver
Conceals the torn, useless flesh which has nurtured his weakness,
From his birth to his death,
Through every agonizing breath
From seeing to blind,
He fucks his own mind
In the back of his brain
He is learning the strain
Of the chains which now keep
His shrinking mind from all sleep
Corrupted corpses collect in the corners
Hiding the bitter sweet fruits death has to offer
Throughout life into the grave
Malicious angels leave him raped
Until this flesh is born anew
His unheard screams will only stew
And I rejoice through horrid moaning,
As troubled children reach out, groaning
For soon the gates reveal the master
Which leave the victims breathing faster
Forest cellars cloak the shadows passing through experience,
Ritualistic lust for the dead is all we expect from the blackening masses,
Malevolent personalities,
Dictating evil claiming the tools,
Bow before this idol you have enthroned
Consume the enraptured vessels labeled slaves,
They are the footstool,
This earth is the throne
poem by Jack Cropes
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Related quotes
Hymn 22 part 2
Flesh and spirit.
Rom. 8:1
What vain desires and passions vain
Attend this mortal clay!
Oft have they pierced my soul with pain,
And drawn my heart astray.
How have I wandered from my God!
And, following sin and shame,
In this vile world of flesh and blood
Defiled my nobler frame!
For ever blessed be thy grace
That formed my soul anew,
And made it of a heav'n-born race,
Thy glory to pursue.
My spirit holds perpetual war,
And wrestles and complains;
But views the happy moment near
That shall dissolve its chains.
Cheerful in death I close my eyes
To part with every lust;
And charge my flesh, whene'er it rise,
To leave them in the dust.
My purer spirit shall not fear
To put this body on;
Its tempting powers no more are there,
Its lusts and passions gone!
poem by Isaac Watts
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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.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Going to Keep You Haunted
Did you think I was just going to let you go?
Freeing you to believe,
My grieving you have achieved?
Did you...
Think that?
You underestimated me,
And my capable abilities.
I am more than flesh and bone,
My love.
And in your mind...
I'm not about to leave!
Did you...
Think that?
Did you think my show of respect for you,
Was a sign of weakness?
And without you about...
I would mope around and pout?
Be 'blue' without you?
Did you...
Think that?
Did you think I would throw trantrums,
Like a child...
With a frown on my mouth?
Did you...
Think that?
I am more than flesh and bone,
My love.
And in your mind...
I am not about to leave!
In the quietness of your dreams...
That shadow appearing to creep silently,
To hear you gasp with muffled screams!
Will be me.
Smiling.
Rush to turn on the light.
I will not be there to see!
Resting in a peaceful sleep...
Freed of me.
Is no longer for you,
Meant to be!
I am going to keep you haunted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 16 part 3
Courage in death, and hope of the resurrection.
When God is nigh, my faith is strong;
His arm is my almighty prop:
Be glad, my heart; rejoice, my tongue;
My dying flesh shall rest in hope.
Though in the dust I lay my head,
Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
My soul for ever with the dead,
Nor lose thy children in the grave.
My flesh shall thy first call obey,
Shake off the dust, and rise on high;
Then shalt thou lead the wondrous way
Up to thy throne above the sky.
There streams of endless pleasure flow;
And full discoveries of thy grace
(Which we but tasted here below)
Spread heav'nly joys through all the place.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Love Written In Passion Blood
love is written in warm passion blood
life is written in lust stirring flow blood
union is written in rich soul merging blood
blood in all union gift birth children born
blood bled in surge birth new life
blood corrupted death end finale life
blood love warm pure pumps renewal
blood flesh pierced sword's blade
blood climatic performance act ends
blood in taste of virgin experience death
contradiction the birth of life the birth of death
music cosmic soars at moment of conception
a moment seals love passion or life rape ripped
life poem writ contains such complexity such depth
lucky are lines life focus love given in glad glee read
glad for startling insight thoughts reflections merry
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Montsgur
I stand alone in this desolate space
In death they are truly alive
Massacred innocence, evil took place
The angels were burning inside
Centuries later I wonder why
What secret that they took to their grave
Still burning heretics under our skies
Religion's still burning inside
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god will know his own
The innocents died for the pope on his throne
Catholic greed and its paranoid zeal
Curse of the grail and the blood of the cross
Templar believers with blood on their hands
Joined in the choruse to kill on demand
Burned at the stake for their soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars to die and be free
The book of old testament crippled and black
Satan his weapon is lust
Living this evil damnation of flesh
Back to the torture of life
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
As we kill them all so god know his own
Laugh at the darkness and in god we trust
The eye of the triangle smiling with sin
No passover feast for the cursed within
Facing the sun as they went to their grave
Burn like a dog or you live like a slave
Death is the price for your soul's liberty
To stand with the cathars and to die and be free
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
At the gates and the walls of Montsgur
Blood on the stones of the citadel
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Heav'nly Race
Just two, two choices we’ve got on this planet:
life, life and death, death;
life on earth, eternal life in heav’n above,
and death here on earth, eternal death in hell below.
But questions, questions ask we ourselves below:
‘How do we live here on this planet? ’
‘what’s our rewards aft’r death? ’
Death is inevitable gentle young man:
plants die, animals die, we too must die
and sleep in Mr. Death’s grave;
we must die in flesh, not on soul returning to God.
Isaiah holiness, let’s accept
that our death may be our sweet pillow for rest
or we due to second death eternal in hell!
poem by Eche Ononukwe
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Veil of Death
Death for believers is but a veil, for through Christ we will prevail,
For we may die upon this earth, but live the promise of new birth.
After this life and much travail, we slip through a mysterious veil,
Into the presence of God’s Throne, through no efforts of our own.
For a brief moment we may sleep, but as we awake we will reap,
Reap from God an Eternal Life, and all due to the work of Christ.
When we sleep in Christ we wake; because He died for our sake.
Though Christ died now He lives, and Eternal Life to us He gives.
Death although it may come, has been swallowed up by The Son,
Through His victory on the cross, where Christ died for all the lost.
Now not only have we been found, but in Him new life will abound,
A life that starts upon this earth, when we experience a New Birth.
Life may begin here my friend, but a new life in Christ has no end,
As we enter what seems as death, we breathe in Heaven’s breath.
We’ll leave behind all that’s frail, as we briefly slip through the veil,
As we enter into God’s Paradise, to live forever with Jesus Christ.
We’ll leave the bodies that have died, and get new bodies glorified,
We will live an eternity with Him, in God’s Paradise that has no sin,
This could be the reason why; precious is the death, in God’s eyes,
Of all the saints He calls His own, as they enter their Eternal Home.
(Copyright ©05/2006)
Life is not A question, But It is an experience!
Life is not a question that to be
solved,
it should be experienced!
Life is that experience of facing
and solving problems,
toughest is to know the one who experience.
The evolution of life itself is story
of trial and error!
life itself is that greatest observer
of itself!
The vision of invisible viewing through mortal eyes,
hearing the silent eloquent by mortal ears,
touching the one beyond touch by mortal skin,
Smelling the one odourfree by mortal nose,
Tasting the one who is tastefree by mortal tongue
Immortal showing up as mortal!
Life is an experience between birth and death,
coming here as nothing,
Learning to love and hate,
Learning to work and expect fruits,
developing skill to use senses and devices,
Learning to use mind and intelligence,
Learning and conveying message,
The message of immortal to mortal,
The truth itself in pursuit of Truth!
Life itself is that truth,
looks like an experience
that constantly puts
its own existence
on trial...
The one who had born has to die,
But one who is eternal continues his eternal play!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Breath Of Death
Death is not death,
It is life without breath,
Life on earth is life that is blind,
Blinded by stress and the curse of time,
True life is life that remains untied,
Pure life is life that has honor and pride,
The cold breathe of death actually guilds,
It guilds to a place where darkness subsides,
Passed the shadow a secluded warmth is seen,
Benevolence and compassion becomes pristine,
The Floor is cover with clouds of gold,
An eternal joy that never grows old,
They wait for you to come alive,
Trumpets waiting for you to arrive,
Sitting there is the humble Lord,
Guarding the gates with his shield and sword,
All your loved ones and all you've known,
How can this love even be shown,
Reach out your heart and give him your hand,
There is nothing to fear so please understand,
He knows you believe but now you must try,
You must understand that to live you must die,
Yes, this death is death indeed,
A death of pain and an unheard plead.,
However this death is truly not death,
Only new life that lives without breath.
poem by Bradley Lomeli
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Death - The Gift of Life
There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life
We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
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One-On-One Skirmish in War
Lend me a crushed ear,
A juicy smear of dermis, and
I shall blast ye of your world
Upon a barrel furnace
Flaring orange of an instant!
Now first, please rip apart my being:
Sunder me, O! plunder please the
Writhing flesh upon my bones and
Leave it naught of
Living life - kill to
Bleeding cinders, embers of an ex.
Recuperation? Never! no!
Otherwise to suffer minds -
Bowels and all to wither
Aren't on offer -
Only desperate tears to flee! Now
Let me in and I'll remove
Your rhythmic timer - the
Pumping tinderbox to feed
A vox humana pleading for its life;
The reaper's chimer
Sees you burn,
Hears you spurn your soul -
Your screaming head - top flesh;
Dead mesh - mesh of death! No
Breath from breast! No
Beat or heat from rising ribs -
How neat, the meat in
Death together!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
All rights reserved
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war war war war war war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breath of Death
Death is not death-
It is life without breath.
Life on earth is life that is blind-
Blinded by stress and the curse of time…
True life is life that remains untied,
Pure life is life that has honor and pride.
The cold breathe of death actually guilds-
It guilds to a place where darkness subsides…
Passed the shadow a secluded warmth is seen,
Benevolence and compassion becomes pristine.
Yes, this death is death indeed
A death of pain and an unheard plead.
However death is not death-
Only life without breath.
poem by Brad Lomeli
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are the Children as we are the Dead
I am the rain as I am the storm
I am the leaf as I am the tree
I am the soil as I am the worm
I am the soul and I am free.
I am the bee as I am the hive
I am the ant as I am the hill
I am the corpse as I am alive
I am the birth as I am the kill.
We are the children as we are the dead
We are the free as are those that are bound
We are the children as we are the dead
We are as lost, we are as found.
I am the cow as I am the herd
I am the blade as I am the field
I am the whispering secret unheard
I am the farmer as I am the yield.
I am the nothing as I am the all
I am the rise as I am the fall
I am the death of spirit anew
I am the red the yellow the blue
I am the king as I am the queen
I am the plauge as I am the cure
I am the world as I am a dream
I am the secret of lusts sweet allure.
I am the wind as I am the earth
I am the sea as I am the fire
I am the songs the sirens may sing
Promising everything you may desire.
I am the fool as I am the crowd
I am the silence as I am loud
I am as heavy as I am light
I am as blind as I may have sight.
We are the children as we are the dead
We are the homeless that wish to be fed
We are the teachers of children at school
We are the children who break all the rules.
We are as one or as nothing at all
We are one throughout the fall
I am death and I am alive
I am the bee I am the hive.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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C. L. M.
In the dark womb where I began
My mother's life made me a man.
Through all the months of human birth
Her beauty fed my common earth.
I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir.
But through the death of some of her.
Down in the darkness of the grave
She cannot see the life she gave.
For all her love, she cannot tell
Whether I use it ill or well,
Nor knock at dusty doors to find
Her beauty dusty in the mind.
If the grave's gates could be undone,
She would not know her little son,
I am so grown. If we should meet
She would pass by me in the street,
Unless my soul's face let her see
My sense of what she did for me.
What have I done to keep in mind
My debt to her and womankind ?
What woman's happier life repays
Her for those months of wretched days ?
For all my rnouthless body leeched
Ere Birth's releasing hell was reached ?
What have I done, or tried, or said
In thanks to that dear woman dead ?
Men triumph over women still,
Men trample women's rights at will.
And man's lust roves the world untamed.
* • * •
O grave, keep shut lest I be shamed.
poem by John Masefield (1902)
Submitted by anonym
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Not Ours To Give
For you, I would give the world, a phrase that many people herald,
But, earth is not ours to give, but, just a place that we mortals live.
Heaven’s not a place to assume; only in Christ can we get a room,
A room prepared by God’s Son, who created upon earth everyone.
All has been made by God alone, through the power of His Throne.
By Him all were given breath, and by His Decree, all will face death.
Some may say all on this earth, are in God’s eyes, the same worth,
Regarding Creation, this is true, but, all men need to be born anew.
Some say we are all of God’s Family, but, that is closer to fantasy,
Yes, we were all created by Him, but, then the Devil had entered in,
Deceiving the first man and wife, he brought choice into man’s life,
That choice that still remains today, whatever one may think or say.
All perfection God created in man, was tainted by Satan’s evil plan,
From God man was now separated, as sin by Satan is perpetuated,
Bringing us to the Cross of Christ, God’s only way into Eternal Life,
The way to Heaven for all of us, is when in Christ we place our trust.
Though we’re all created by God, we’re Satan’s children on this sod,
Until we’re born in the Spirit above, in the choice of Calvary’s blood.
As earth is not ours to give, without Christ, you will not eternally live,
Instead of breathing Heavenly breath, you’ll surely see eternal death.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
Overt Enemy
I breach your life
Indoctrinate
Police your thoughts
Ask why I hate
I lose control
When I see your face
Abusing power
I infiltrate
Continue lies
Then masturbate
I walk the line
I'll do no time
I hate your church
I'll burn your state
A bleeding heart
A seal of fate
There is no crime
Within my mind
I'll sell your life and preach your death
A wicked plan born of contempt
Bleeding my ideology through pain
Audacious plans
I calculate
A new world view
I'll re-instate
Don't cross my path
Or I'll see you burn
You'll meet your end
Find death alone
No grave to mark
The seeds you've sown
You've pushed too far
My secrets I defend
I'll sell your life and preach your death
A wicked plan born of contempt
Bleeding my ideology through pain
Demonize what is feared profane architect
Skull and bones through the mind
Barbaric thoughts of old
Celebrate all unknown
At last the head await
The die is cast for the meek
inherit endless dead time
Smell the victim are near
consume the catalyst
Hunting masses for game
implanting septic thoughts
Reaping terror through words while
armed behind your back
Pseudo leaders betray
enslaving all of mankind
Cast out the Demi God
Dethrone the demagogue
Cast out the church God
I command your life
And I don't care
Let bullets rain
From everywhere
No suicide
Will save you from yourself
song performed by by Slayer from Diabolus In Musica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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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.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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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