Cycles of Death
An accepted pity celebrated with a toast.
Is this routine a joke at someone's roast?
And who is the one being 'done in' by these deeds?
A too comforting procedure,
By those at ease and strangely pleased.
A planned defeat that mocks to win!
Makes little sense except to them.
Keeping their pockets filled to the rim...
By initiating conflicts,
With contractors set to move in!
Serving 'Death by Chocolate'...
And Bloody Marys poured to sip.
More of these secret dealings,
Are rewards to keep few rich!
And abundant with sickness,
As humanity slips away...
They care less of the mess that distresses!
'Why should they? '
They are heard in private to say!
When these cycles of death...
Are created by them to pay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
From Death
The great heat of a man in the holes where they perish
Is the world for him, when hot dealings from death.
A man shall cry from the heat when in the deepest ways,
The depths speak loudly of heat and arisings from death.
One murderer is not like a foolish man but the worst,
The heat of the sun can not master his bearings from death.
A grave has become attached to his soul, accepted by him,
And then fright shall be accepted from an angel of the buildings of death.
Then all of humanity congratulates the life of the good standard,
When the Lord spoke loudly of us who are doers of blessings from death.
The reality has been announced by the deepest parts of the Hereafter,
Life and annihilation are opposites, the real dead shall have briefings from death.
Open the gates of this Paradise, where honey has been sold
In rivers, milk has flowed out clearly with coatings from the Death.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Art of Death
Death by murder- death by chance
Death by secret night romance
Death by number- paint the lines
Death in color, or black and lie
Accidental- planned, prolonged
Death by always doing wrong
Death by self- a timeless art
Death by one last broken heart
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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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
Vote! | Copy!
Spectrum Of Death
SPECTRUM OF DEATH
esspeecee…14.09.95.
How death looks like?
As spectrum of
Cosmetic butterfly. [1]
How death smells like?
As drizzle sodden
Droughty clay. [2]
How death talks like?
As splashing of brooks
Over scattered stones. [3]
How death comes like?
As cat walks of hyena
For the prey. [4]
How death punishes like?
As rupture of
Life’s rapture. [5]
How death rewards like?
By keeping indelible footprints
Of my worthlessness. [6]
Copyright reserved by the Author
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death, Death And Death
I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.
I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.
I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Real Victory
The Real Victory
Victory and defeat in war,
Are the childish justifications.
Colour not your hands,
With the precious substance of Man.
Whether you nourish your mind,
With the elating thought of victory,
Or loathe with a despising thought of defeat,
You kill fathers, brothers and sons,
You kill mothers, sisters and daughters,
Even the infants sleeping in cradles,
You kill them with their innocent dreams,
They hardly know the self-made conflicts,
Flourishing, booming in the world.
Discard devices that you carry in hands,
And think awhile
Whether you kill or you are killed,
You fight against humanity,
You fight against the divine laws,
You fight against the Kingdom of God.
Apply your strength if indispensable,
Lance eyes of the Shark of Ignorance,
Stifle; choke the Demons of Illness,
Wrench neck of the Ghost of Hunger,
Break teeth of the Vampire of Poverty,
By connecting the hearts of humanity,
With the bonds of trust, faith and love.
For the sake of oil and reserves,
Make not the world a mess.
If you intend to defeat the rivals,
Defeat them in the race of good deeds,
Yes, defeat them in the race of good deeds,
You know not the real victory you may get,
But without bloodshed and with out making,
The world a storehouse of weapons.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Give Me That Loot
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
And...
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
I've tightened up my loosened belt...
Not to miss a single loop.
I think of having juice or cool-aid...
But a bowl of noodle soup will do!
These times I forsake steak.
And potatoes made to taste.
With gravy and glazed onions I would love.
These times I forsake cake...
Yellow, pound or chocolate made.
But I dream of having brownies...
With some lemonaide would just be great!
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
Give me that loot that you get.
The kind that fills up pockets.
The kind that makes one rich...
And can pay for all my habits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Comforting Place
You rush downstairs to the kitchen with excitement as the heart felt aroma of chocolate chip cookies seeps through every room in your house.
So enamored and filled with relief that your anguishing wait is over, you cannot help but notice each cookie's golden brown, wrinkled crust glistening as steam whisps seductively around your nose drawing you near, as if in a trance. While rich chocolate oasises seep delicately into each cookie.
And when they are finally cool enough to eat, you push and grab for the biggest chip, filled cookie on the rack and bite eagerly into the crust, but savoring every flavor.
The texture, so soft and moist, melts like ice in a bowl luke warm water. But, as the last piece slips down your throat, the after taste is so overwhelming that you yearn for another, and another and another until you are satisfied.
But then you comforting place is shattered, like a mirror to a hardwood floor, as your mother walks in to an empty cooling rack and a nervous child afraid of what her mother will say, with chocolate smears resting in the corners of ther mouth and the tips of her fingers.
By: Cece
Age: 14
(This was orginally an imagery activity for my honors english class. Our assignment was to write about our individual comforting place and... mine was chocolate chip cookies! So, I hope you liked it. But I don't know about you but, I'm hungry!)
Humans Can Help
Humans are not us,
Our moods do not suit,
Birth is desirable,
Death is absolute.
Humanity can keep us and we keep,
Lots of them are unhappy but we are,
As much as solitude, and all we care
Is the happiness to use our life.
Human help is against the rule of ours,
Good deeds must permeate our souls,
But happiness is utilised, again I go.
Humanity did not suit us when we cared.
Humans will speak more today,
The next day is like each for us
For we design the joke of eternity like humans
But no.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death is... A Compilation of Death Poetry
(10/05/2000)
Death is when your loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain to the heart
Death is a feeling of permanent sadness & pain
Death is when your loved ones have forever gone away
Death is a call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is a lesson to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is an unhappy feeling to have
Death is unpleasant on anyone's behalf
Death is something we all will go through
Death is a storm waiting to brew
Death is a lingering crow always overhead
Death is a soul, done being fed
Death is cruel,
Death is unfair,
Why death?
Does death care?
Death is unkind,
Death breaks hearts,
Why death?
Do you like to part?
Death is here,
Death is there,
Why death?
Why be everywhere?
Death is the end,
Death is to die,
Why death?
To make people cry?
Death was created,
Death is still here,
Why death?
We live in fear,
Death is death,
Death is dead,
Why death?
Because death said.
Death is forever, so don’t flirt with death
Death is painful, so stay away from knifes
Death is not for lovers, so don’t die
Death is not for me, so don’t even try
Death is never clear, so be careful
Death is never fun, so stay away from strangers
Death is never pleasing, so don’t get caught up in the hype
Death is never fair, so get use to it
Death is always occurring, so don’t forget it
Death is never what u expect, so expect the unexpected
Death is not for you, so please don’t give up
Death is forever, so don’t forget that
poem by Shenise Ashmeade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chocolate Is A Food Group
I love chocolate.
So should you.
Milk chocolate,
Dark chocolate.
It's good for you, too.
Chocolate cake,
Chocolate candy,
Chocolate pie.
Take away my chocolate
And I might die.
White chocolate,
Hot chocolate,
Even chocolate soup...
Any chocolate lover knows
Chocolate is a food group.
poem by Rich Reitz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As I Went
As I went, as I went
Over the mountains,
I heard, I heard,
Through cloud-wreath and mist,
A hound that was baying -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
Over the meadows,
I heard, I heard,
From thicket, from shadow,
A hidden bird fluting -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
By rocks and by sand-dunes,
I heard, I heard,
At the dea's bottom
A silver fish swimming -
Death . . it was death.
As I went, as I went
In my house, in my house,
I heard, I heard,
A footfall, a footfall
Closely behind me -
Death . . it was death.
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Macabre Beauty
They say death is the end,
But I don't think so,
Death's an old friend,
Waiting for us to go,
Away from this realm,
When our job's over,
The world seems a dream,
That keeps on going forever.
They say death is dark,
As dark as coal,
Extinguishing life's spark,
Dragging into it's hole,
Little do they realize,
That this is nature's law,
So, why're they surprised,
For it's like this since long ago?
They consider death macabre,
For it's the final end,
Like a sharpened saber,
Cutting the delicate thread,
But though it may seem,
That death's always macabre,
But it does itself redeem,
By bringing a new future.
Strangely, I find myself at peace,
When I am not at ease,
I request death, oh please!
Have me from my bonds release!
Silently, death does it's duty,
Therein lies it's macabre beauty.
poem by Suvankar Sen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Self Serving and Isolated Mindset
Everybody,
And his or her mama...
Has an opinion,
Of what President Obama should...
And should not do.
Suggesting Barack does not have the sense,
To approach the state of the economy.
Or provide a fix,
For their self imposed conflicts!
Or their addiction to decadence.
Even those thought of as 'pros'
Have their mouths opened wide,
When they should be the ones closed.
Behind prison bars...
And their miscalculations fully exposed.
It is with their 'wisdom' or lack of it.
The entire world has become a pile of horse...
Manure!
And I'm sure you get the 'drift' of this?
And now there is a leader who has insured,
No longer will the suffering of the people be endured.
With an approach that lacks of arrogance.
But with an honesty to be believed!
And an absence of deceit,
To begin a healing...
He hopes will inspire a cure!
A bleeding of respect,
Those of experience for many years accepted...
At the cost of their own neglect!
Has caused this global mess.
And too many are left conscious...
To realize who created the feeding greed,
Of those who 'have'...
And the 'have nots' falling,
Through wider gaps with less.
Everybody,
And his or her mama...
Has an opinion,
Of what President Obama should...
And should not do.
Suggesting Barack does not have the sense,
To approach the state of the economy.
Or provide a fix,
For their self imposed conflicts!
Or their addiction to decadence.
And he has done his very best...
To represent a nation of people,
Who have become lost and upset!
In a delusional,
Self serving...
And isolated mindset!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!