visiting the cemetery
buried in each of us
the unease about death
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Soothing graves
one thing about grave
about the cemetery that i like
they are all so real, real as death
and the people who come visiting
they come with their real self
laugh, smile or tears they are
all so reall, for there is no more need
to fake one's feeling, put on a face
everything is now known to the dead
or remains forever unknown
there is a quietness in the grave
and the cemetery that i like
it is the ingratiating quietness
that is so soothing to the soul
the calm acceptance of life
that to die is also a part of living
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Just love the Cemetery
one thing about grave
about the cemetery that i like
they are all so real, real as death
and the people who come visiting
they come with their real self
laugh, smile or tears they are
all so reall, for there is no more need
to fake one's feeling, put on a face
everything is now known to the dead
or remains forever unknown
there is a quietness in the grave
and the cemetery that i like
it is the ingratiating quietness
that is so soothing to the soul
the calm acceptance of life
that to die is also a part of living
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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visiting the cemetery
not even an echo
from the dead
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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visiting the cemetery
we never bother about
dear one's new neighbours
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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visiting the cemetery
the chill with each step
we make
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Visiting Aunts
This is a memory from my childhood, when I was about Nine years old.
The visiting Aunts have come through the door,
They haven't been here for six months or more,
Their presence is such an incredible bore,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts are so out of date,
I soon noticed that when they came through the gate,
Their dresses date back to nineteen-o-eight,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts have kisses that smother,
With whiskery chins as one will discover,
Each one is just as bad as the other,
Well I think so!
The visiting Aunts look all around our place,
Tutting and waving their hands, so the lace
Which encircles their wrists shakes a pace,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are staying to tea,
They're both very fat and will eat more than me,
There'll be nothing left, just you wait and see,
I told you so!
The visiting Aunts they gossip away,
About this and that and 'not in our day',
They never will listen to what others say,
I really feel low!
The visiting Aunts say it's a disgrace,
The way I'm allowed to get dirt on my face,
And go running around with an undone shoelace,
Well, I can't tie a bow!
The visiting Aunts have had 'forty winks',
Mother had said they will go soon, she thinks,
They're both motionless like a couple of sphinx,
Why don't they go!
The visiting Aunts are off down the lane,
Thank goodness they've gone now, they're really a pain, .
I hope that they never visit again,
Please, days go slow!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Death of death
Death died death
A tragic death of unusual death
Cemetery moaned, howled and wept alone
Its tears all over the ground
Death! Its sole hunter and soul provider
Graveyard's convulsion of shame
As if death was new
Death was old had to die too
Nothing last forever
There was nothing new
Clouds gathered but never rained
No rain wanted to clean the blood on death
The unusual act of death
Even birds of the feather fights each other
Death died, all were dazed for death of death
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Six Word Story...BULLS EYE CHAMP
Archer....buried in cemetery's dead centre.
poem by Ken e Hall
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I have two brothers buried in the military cemetery in Texas. I don't want to see any more of that.
quote by F. Murray Abraham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buried in the Sunset
Sun is crawling down
I wait for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Im still alive here
Still waiting for you
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Days are passing by
Its getting hard to breathe
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
I faked my death
since i felt a threat
Two yards under
I was buried in the sunset
Now real death is drawing near
as the sun breaks the new dawn
but Im no longer waiting for you
I sacrificed,
Two yards under
I buried myself in the sunset
- FaraM Siddiqui
poem by FaraM Siddiqui
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Ottomans
Will the Sun
Ever rise again
O'er this cemetery
Where the Romantic
Is buried alive? This
Appian Way, Death's Expressway
Exclusively for de la Artist?
I hope not-
it hurts to see my compatriots
Die and go unappreciated Like this. My
Persecution never ends. This Orwellian
World wants me dead. My pain
drains itself away onto paper
Exactly (like a carbon copy) in the the style of how
My blood spatters the canvas.
(2 July 2008)
(Justin, Texas)
poem by John Parsons
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Archer bulls eye champ
Dies, buried with top marks in
Cemetery’s dead centre
haiku by Ken e Hall
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Cemetery In My Mind
Locked in the mall in a state of fright
Looking for salvation in a car headlight
But you cant have what you cant buy
Tomorrow is better than yesterday,
Tomorrow is better than today,
Tomorrow is better than yesterday they say
Cemetery in my mind
Cemetery in my mind
This must be my time
Wake work drink sleep retire
Tide comes up way too high
You can fall but can you rise
Cemetery in my mind,
You can fall but can you rise
Theres no pulse no sign of life,
Cemetery in my mind.
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Though I Love
Though I love, I do not know what love is,
Though am sick I do not know what I am sick of
The beauty of love, run heavily indebted through
And through any blood
Verse 2
But in silence I walk; near the beach path where grains of
Sand from heaven falls.
Still wondering what indeed I am so much sick of
Perhaps the anecdote I would find to relieve me;
Of the pain I dare.
Through and through again; life is a pain indeed.
Whose secret, is buried alive and decay in the darkest
Cemetery called love.
Looking ahead, blinking two times as fast as my brains
My heart fair approach far of from a distance,
Walking up that path, the sun praises her in delight,
Though he jealously stole my words in silence and in fear.
I found I could not utter a word, while she viciously walks up
Pass me.
My heart voluntary moves my hand,
In a kind gesture I could not comprehend.
Losing this opportunity I dare curse my self.
Turning round and round I bravely walk away,
Visiting my very chambers were wine and beer do not cost much.
I would drink my self to death,
Still living in a mystery I could not solve.
How could I have love and not know what love is.
How could I be sick and not know what I am sick of.
Is it love the strong man I heard or the weakling woman
Who weeps in her chambers?
Though Love, I do not know what love.
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Washed Ashore In Ages Past
two weeks later a leg
washed ashore
to be buried at
Charleston cemetery
New Zealand
to be buried as
presumably
the partial remains
of an ancestor
who drowned
needlessly
while attempting
to tow a schooner
through narrow
tidal rocky entrance
heroic rescue
of drowning man
none attempted
doomed to failure
a life lost legend
a drowned memory
leg of lost meaning
half history forgotten
until this brief epitaph
to family I do restore
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sycamore Leaves
Cant stop thinking bout it
It fills me with unease
Out there by the roadside somethings buried
Under sycamore leaves
Wet grounds, late september
The foliage of the trees
I came upon this feeling that someones lying
Covered by sycamore leaves
And I could never make it
And I could never see
And I could never break out
And shake its grip on me
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friendship increases in visiting friends, but in visiting them seldom.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance with Death
Consecrated cold earth
There is no dignity
Sworn to die from birth
Here to lie for eternity
So is there glory in death
Never again to feel warm
Or see the light of day
Is death the prize for life
I’ve got the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I saved his life
To put him in the ground
Such a high price
Can’t break the chains, I’m bound
I have a fire inside me
Feels like I’m from hell
What else could it be
Death has me in its spell
I have to say good bye
It would be much better
But I keep seeing his eyes
I know I’ll see them forever
I’ve gotta let him go
I need to end the pain
But I don’t know how
Seems I’m caught in this game
I have the stench of death
On my hands
I just buried a friend
Dance with Death
I’m in that dance
The waltz of endings
The horrid trance
Of new beginnings
I’ve got a dance with death
Swing to his song
Take your last breath
It won’t be long
You’ve gotta move to the beat
Dance with death
Play his song for me
Dance with death
poem by Haley Revell
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The cemetery of the victims of human cruelty in our century is extended to include yet another vast cemetery, that of the unborn.
quote by Pope John Paul II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
Death death death death death death 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 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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