The Dead

These there were, who lost their everything.
Gave all! And left the earth a vaster sphere
In memories: a song or two to sing,
Some takes to tell, some thoughts to think,
more near
To humanness by death, and blood of death
Than life itself, which in the passing hence
Enriched the world with an awakened breath,
And fled no longer nameless form the sense.
‘Twas not the shed of blood, but fearless mirth
that set a wondrous pattern to the earth.
And these,, - within a corner that is theirs,
Are laid in smiling peace – a rich content.
The pain has been – the glory is. Old cares
Have dropped, and left no drooping wonder –
ment.

poem by Leon GellertReport problemRelated quotes
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The City Sings the Song of Death

The City sings the song of Death
Death that roams in the streets
Fearless and merciless, its hands smeared with blood
Its clothes drenched, its desire insatiable
It yearns for more bodies, for more and more
And yet more

The City sings the song of Death
A song whose tragic pitch would scare of birds
Were they to listen to its harrowing cadence
A song that makes babies cry and disturbs the old
A song that is sung by every one who lives in the city of Death
In fear, in pain, in terror
For Death itself has come to life
For Death itself, unchained and unchecked, roams around freely
Who shall now question Death?

The City sings the song of Death
My City sings the song of Death
I too sing the song of Death
And so do the millions that live with me
In the City of Death

poem by Abdul SamadReport problemRelated quotes
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Lost It...I Don't Know When Or

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptivly.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Somewhere...Somehow...I Lost It

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
..or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
..or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy and Faded Memories...

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost unperceptively.

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories

I have suddenly realized I have lost it.
I have lost the joy that was in my life.
When did that happen?

I don't know the exact day...however
as near as I can figure out, it happened
slowly. Ever so slowly...almost imperceptibly

Of course the joy in ones life manifests itself
through that in life that one loves. And so...
mine...my joy, slowly left...as those I love were
no longer in my life. Some of it left, when I
moved...and left behind the drooping willows that
fronted the house I no longer have. The house
where so many beautiful memories were born.

Lots of it left...when the friends of a lifetime
were house in places I no longer went to. It left when
I stopped the ritual of fine dining in places where I
was known by name. It left with scores of doormen,
and servers that I had grow found of.

Most of it...most of my joy, left with family...when came
the day when holidays and other celebrations no longer
was a part of my life.

I miss the joy in my life. I miss all the loved ones
that I shall never see again. Some dead...some
scattered like leaves in the wind, to the far
corners of the earth.

As I grow older, faded memories of joy become less
vivid. Until...a day like today...when something
.or someone reminds me...
Of Lost Joy...And Fading Memories
.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Spectral

Come brother death, come walk with me
And tell me thy tales of long ago.
Show me thy patterns in thy sands of time.
Lend me thy dark cloak against thy cold.

Come brother death, come walk by me
And sing me wraith's song, full of men's woe.
Trace me thy footprints where all the world ends.
Wrap thy slender white fingers around mine.

Come brother death, come run with me
Far to where all wind and stars do sing.
Far away from this human hurt and pain.
Far to where thy peace and darkness reign

Come brother death, come run by me
Past blood laid lands and frozen seas.
And sing me of when death shall be no more
And pain but a dust wrapped memory.

(1983)

poem by Tobbie WhiteBird CroweReport problemRelated quotes
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Yet another Blast...

Strangely enough
This world is ridden
With vampires
Vampires not interested
In sucking blood out of you
But interested in spilling your blood
On the surface of the earth
To create gore and terror
Whether in stark day light
Or during a normal night
Their fangs are hidden
From all tech-savvy gadgets
They feign innocence
As they casually stroll
Amidst thick crowds
Once the job is done
They vanish as if at the day break...

09Sep2011
00.15hrs

***

I've turned insensitive
To death
I'm now sensitive
To life
Of late
I anticipate death
At every corner
To me theses days
Life is but a distant cry
Why shed tears
Over the inevitable?
And commonplace?
Why regale
Over what passes off
At an abrupt turn?

Somewhere
In some corner of the earth
Collective wails rise and fall
Deafening the earth's ears

08Sep2011
21.00hrs

poem by Indira BabbellapatiReport problemRelated quotes
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The Holy Virgin

The Holy Virgin


The time has…has come the time of death,
The death of my life, death of my breath,
Death of all but one…death of one but all,
Yet into the void for death I shall call.
It is near but death itself is nearer,
For all those who shall not be cheerer,
Death was the love I called upon into the world,
It was love that trembled as my death built a new world.

A new world with one less,
A new world with a greater mess,
For death of one is death of all,
Still into the void, My love for death I shall call.
‘Cause there is none like death
And none like death can take my breath.
For I was me and me alone,
And I was mine and mine own.
‘Cause there is none like me-
None as different…and not one so free.

Death was all I had ever known,
From when I as a seed into the earth was sown,
To the skies I reached out yet grew not,
Higher than all I was yet was so merely short.
I knew not what I wanted,
But I knew that what I was gifted,
But I knew not what I had to do,
But I knew very well what to do.

Behind bars I had threw mine soul and heart,
But not my mind which was my delicate art,
‘Cause that was all I had,
It was merry yet sad,
‘Cause I was far from all, I severed myself,
Yet my love was not for myself,
Unfathomable was my love for love,
Yet I hid it all up in a cove.
But I did what I did,
For I was me and not some other silly did.

I told them not when they told I was wrong;
When they told I was bad I told I was wrong,
For I knew my action,
Yet lost was the proper reaction.
Sins were mine, sins to all,
Sins were mine but mine sins not all.

Robbed by death I was of all but one,
One was my mind- the special one.
For my mind was mine and mine alone,
Amidst all it sparkled and shone,
For death touched it not as what it was it knew not,
Yet of that it never forgot,
For it was the only that was beleft,
When death made love to earth and none was left,
Because when all was gone,
Left was the different one,
When gone was the origin,
Left behind was my mind – The Holy Virgin.


JamesGreen…

poem by James GreenReport problemRelated quotes
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The Death Penalty

Bring back the death penalty screamed a lady as the blood ran, dripping from the cold concrete as her sons blood fled from its body. Bring back, bring back the death penalty screamed a mother as her child dies slowly watching the pools of life fade away from his eyes.

Bring back, bring back the death penalty screamed a mother while she watched her child being killed by the hands of another man, bring back the death penalty.

Bring back the death penalty as she screamed holding her dying child while he laid his last words and breath upon her chest. Bring back the death penalty she screamed in mercy so that she will so that she will no longer have to hold any more of her dying sons and lay them in graves before she lays in her own.

Bring back the death penalty she screamed as her sons soul left his body and he became another victim to a violent society. Bring back the death penalty, bring back our sons.

poem by Melvyn MohanReport problemRelated quotes
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Anima Anceps

TILL death have broken
Sweet life’s love-token,
Till all be spoken
That shall be said,
What dost thou praying,
O soul, and playing
With song and saying,
Things flown and fled?
For this we know not—
That fresh springs flow not
And fresh griefs grow not
When men are dead;
When strange years cover
Lover and lover,
And joys are over
And tears are shed.

If one day’s sorrow
Mar the day’s morrow—
If man’s life borrow
And man’s death pay—
If souls once taken,
If lives once shaken,
Arise, awaken,
By night, by day—
Why with strong crying
And years of sighing,
Living and dying,
Fast ye and pray?
For all your weeping,
Waking and sleeping,
Death comes to reaping
And takes away.

Though time rend after
Roof-tree from rafter,
A little laughter
Is much more worth
Than thus to measure
The hour, the treasure,
The pain, the pleasure,
The death, the birth;
Grief, when days alter,
Like joy shall falter;
Song-book and psalter,
Mourning and mirth.
Live like the swallow;
Seek not to follow
Where earth is hollow
Under the earth.

poem by Algernon Charles SwinburneReport problemRelated quotes
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Myself

What am I? I am Earth the mother,
With all her nebulous memories;
And the young Day, and Night her brother,
And every god that was and is.

As Eve I walked in paradise,
Dreaming of nations, braving death
For knowledge; nor begrudged the price
When the first baby first drew breath.

I sang Deborah's triumph song;
I struck the foe with Judith's sword;
'Twas I who to the angel said,
'Behold the handmaid of the Lord!'

I was fair Helen, she for whom
A nation was content to die;
And Cleopatra, in whose doom
The world went down with Antony.

I am the harlot in the street,
And the veiled nun all undefiled;
In me must queen and beggar meet,
Wise age hark to the little child.

I am the life that ever is,
And the new glory that shall be;
The pain that dies, and the brave bliss
That mounts to immortality.

poem by Harriet MonroeReport problemRelated quotes
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John Shea

Happy Halloween

The blood that she let
Left me empty and upset.
My life now goes on forever.
I killed hitler with my fangs and a song.
His gardens died quickly,
He didn't belong.
Love was a dropp of blood for awhile,
Mine was to feed for the blood that she let.
Then I met friendly people on the street.
When I left them they were white as a sheet.
Tommorrow night I will eat candy,
My costume is real
My woman my blood to let
My tongue the blood to feel.
Give me a costume and reason to smile
I just use darkness and death all the while.
So, suck it up, you crazy believers
That we are the invisible creatures of myth
My journey for you
Is what she left.
The blood that she let
Is all that she left.
Happy Halloween.

poem by John SheaReport problemRelated quotes
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All the Hills and Vales Along

All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.

Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to.
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that went his way.
So sing with joyful breath,
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.

Earth that never doubts nor fears,
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
'Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour your gladness on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.

From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of sing
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
On, marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,
So you may be glad, though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth's bed,
So be merry, so be dead.

poem by Charles Hamilton SorleyReport problemRelated quotes
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Route March

All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.

Cast away regret and rue,
Think what you are marching to,
Little live, great pass.
Jesus Christ and Barabbas
Were found the same day.
This died, that, went his way.
So sing with joyful breath.
For why, you are going to death.
Teeming earth will surely store
All the gladness that you pour.

Earth that never doubts nor fears
Earth that knows of death, not tears,
Earth that bore with joyful ease
Hemlock for Socrates,
Earth that blossomed and was glad
'Neath the cross that Christ had,
Shall rejoice and blossom too
When the bullet reaches you.
Wherefore, men marching
On the road to death, sing!
Pour gladness on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.

From the hills and valleys earth
Shouts back the sound of mirth,
Tramp of feet and lilt of song
Ringing all the road along.
All the music of their going,
Ringing swinging glad song-throwing,
Earth will echo still, when foot
Lies numb and voice mute.
On marching men, on
To the gates of death with song.
Sow your gladness for earth's reaping,
So you may be glad though sleeping.
Strew your gladness on earth's bed,
So be merry, so be dead.

poem by Charles Hamilton SorleyReport problemRelated quotes
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Green Concern

Cruel to the world, where honesty rules -
Death if you are gay by day -
The maker of sense, surely we shall meet -
Crushed will be, the form of his head -
I am here, you are there -
In the between, who really cares -
The earth turns -
Definatly not to be -
By the oil we burn -
Without a green -
To hair the less -
Left for the best -
Of concerns

poem by Unic CjonrReport problemRelated quotes
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Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All

All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.


What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.


It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.

Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.


Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.


Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.

poem by Praveen KumarReport problemRelated quotes
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Today... 'Our Passover Lamb

Blood from the lamb was on the lintel spread
and the people waited in fear and dread.
They could all hear the people outside cry
but the Angel of Death just passed them by.

Because a lamb had been slain and had died
and its blood upon the doorpost applied
Death did not visit them that dreadful day
but passed over them and went on its way.

**********

His life was given and His blood was shed
when He died that awful day in my stead.
The pure unspotted Lamb of God was He.
God saw the blood and then passed over me.

He gave His life to pay sins dreadful price
and offered Himself as a sacrifice.
Crying 'Father forgive' with His last breath
He snatched me from the very jaws of death.

(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)

poem by Roy AllenReport problemRelated quotes
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