A Phantom In The Mediterranean
a phantom is haunting the mediterranean sea
it is the phantom of an italian soldier
his jacket with torn out buttans on his back filthy
his flesh pierced into pieces
and his temples bloody
fearing to fall intoı the space
his voice is echoing
he is screaming in the mediterranean
and he embraces the sun at daylight
then embraces the stars at night
ı know this soul
he was a fugitive soldier when alive
if he had not been shot to death
he would have lived for many many years now
this is the soul ı know
he fled in arduva from the war-front
he ran away in haste
leaving his fire-arm behind
like an animal running away from fire
neither for his ideas
nor for his claims righteous
he ran away only for not bto die
but only to survive
till then he did not know anything about death
he never read hamlet nor a poem fron dante
he had not ever a slight idea about death
about the mystery of it described in the books
when he was being shot to death
suıddeenly a wedding prayer has come tpo his mind
and he began to recite that prayer
when the guns aimed to him fired
he was not fearing from death
he was fearing from being dead
he wanted most
only to li, ve..only to survive
above all..above everything
he only wanted to survive
with women
without women
satisfied..fed up
or hungry
he only wanted to live
like an ordinary tree
ordinary bird
ordinary cloud
ordinary fish
to live like
water in a glass
or oil
like fistful of soıl
he was fearing from being dead
wanting not to be dead
but he wanted only to survive
only to live a life ordinary
on one morning
when a flower was sprotıng and blooming on his stem
he was being shot to death unknowing and unaware
now
it is his phantom
haunting the mediterranean
him..nobody nobody knows and feels
but only ı can feel and see
nazım HİKMET
translatıon Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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She Ain't Your Ordinary Girl
(Robert Jason)
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She don't love carelessly that's what I've always heard
'Can't use the usual lines she measures every word
No empty promises proof is what it takes to win her heart
The truth and nothing less, simple things that set her far apart
Save your diamonds and your furs she's not your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary, no she's not
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary, oh no
She ain't your ordinary girl
No midnight alibis, no foolish games for her
And if you cross the line you'll get what you deserve
But when you see her smile nothing seems to matter anymore
And in a little while you'll feel like you've never felt before
Like no other in the world, she's not your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary, no she's not
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary, oh no
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
Save your diamonds and your furs, she ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
She ain't your ordinary
She ain't your ordinary girl
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Genius In Each Of Us
the genius in each of us
lies in the ordinariness of the clothes we wear
and the ordinary walk that we take on ordinary lanes
the genius of air, and sunlight, and wind
the one that gets inside us without notice
yet makes everyone live
the one that caresses us without feeling
so important and yet makes us survive
the one that refreshes us in the shores
along ships that we are in
taking us to our destinations
tell me if they have special names and special
functions
the ordinary air, the ordinary sunlight, the ordinary wind
is that not the genius of the earth
the fire, the land, the sky
are they not so ordinary for us to take and use and love?
they are the strokes of the genius of the Lord
and yet they never have names of their own
they are everywhere, they are anywhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dying
ı would like to die before you die
do you think that
the one who comes after
will find the one who has gone before
I do not think so
it is better you burn my body
and put the remnant ashes in an urn
placed on a shelf on the fire-place
the urn must be made up of transparent white glass
so that you can see me in it
you see
how self-sacrificing I am
I do not want to be terracotta
I do not want to be a flower
but want to be ash
to live together with you
and after sometime
when you die too
you will come into the urn also
and we will then live there together
with your ashes mixed in my ashes
till the day
when one of our clumsy brides
or an unloyal grandson without care
throw the urn out from there
but we
till then
we will be mixed with each other completely
our molecules will fall beside each other
side by side
in the wasteland to which we will be thrown
we will then dive into the soil together
and one day out
when a wild flower will sprout
from this little piece of soil
in her stem
there will bloom certainly two flowers
ı am certain
I know
one is you
and the other is me
but I..
I do not think of dying yet
my blood is still boılıng and flowing
I will give birth to off-springs yet
life is occupying inside me and overflowing
I will live with you together
more and more
I am not afraid of death also
but I not like the way of our held funeral ceremony
may be it will be changed
till the day we die
ıs there a chance of yours
to be freed and released from the prisons nowadays
some voice from inside me says
''PERHAPS''
1947
Piraye Nazım HİKMET
translation Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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417
the genius in each of us
lies in the ordinariness of the clothes we wear
and the odinary walk that we take on ordinary lanes
the genius of air, and sunlight, and wind
the one that gets inside us without notice
yet makes everyone live
the one that caresses us without feeling
so important and yet makes us survive
the one that refreshes us in the shores
along ships that we are in
taking us to our destinations
tell me if they have special names and special
functions
the ordinary air, the ordinary sunlight, the ordinary wind
is that not the genius of the earth
the fire, the land, the sky
are they not so ordinary for us to take and use and love?
they are the strokes of the genius of the Lord
and yet they never have names of their own
they are everywhere, they are anywhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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My anguish
Fearing and fearing I faced at last
My mother’s death and then my father’s death.
Now my fear is for my death and my wish
Is I be not there to see my children die..
31.12.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Before Death
Before death
you wanted to kiss
the girl in the lift
whom you rode with
silently each day,
wanted to read
War and Peace,
wanted to listen
to the whole
of Wagner’s Ring,
wanted to write a poem
in Japanese,
touch the dress
Marilyn Monroe
wore in that famous film,
feel the embrace
of your late father’s arms.
Before death
you wanted to sing
a Puccini aria,
look into the eyes
of your first dead love,
make love
for the final time,
climb Everest,
drink your last
glass of booze,
see your final dawn,
hold onto your final breath,
before your death.
poem by Terry Collett
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Death I Do Not Fear
Death I do not fear
Because it will come one year
Live forever I will not
For everyones fate is to die and rot
Fearing death is a waste of time
For this is how I felt when I wrote this rhyme
Though I wish to live forever you see
Death is only for an eternity
So on a rainy day in a graveyard
Please send no flowers, pictures, or cards
For death did not scare me in life
And my death was natural with no gun or knife
poem by Joshua Johnson
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Suttee
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?
Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Funeral
I want to have my funeral
But first I need to die
But not an ordinary death
You see
I want one filled of surprise
One death that no one would expect
One that’ll beat the rest
Of the
Out of the ordinary deaths
A death that will show the pain I hide
One that will make people tremble inside
To see that a little girl could hide
So much trouble and hate inside her mind
One that’ll have me on a bed
With rose petals all around my head
My wrist all cut up at the vein
A death that’ll make me look insane
It’ll have them saying
“maybe she hit her head”
For the death expressed too much
And set a feeling of depressed
Maybe a death
That’ll have written on my chest
All the things that “you knew best”
All the things I failed to see
Because they never were facing me
A death is called a tragedy
But not when nobody can see
That the tragedy was meant to be
Like the sun is meant to set each day
And how the moon never seems to stay
poem by Jennifer Alejandra
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Death Is Not A Disease
Death is not a disease
It is not contagious
It should not constrict you to breathe
Yet it is a topic many people favour
To die you must live
To live you must die
Then there is survive
When men live the lie
Death is not a disease
Death is a hunter like a cat
We do not catch is as it releases us
Death is death and that is that
poem by Ethan Wilson
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Forever Starts at the End (A Sonnet)
Eternal life will start in my late last.
But who knows death began ere I was born?
A christian needs to die, as it's a must,
Before he could have seen the coming morn.
The day I went out from my mother's womb,
Is just as my death anniversary.
A dead child risen from a woman's tomb,
And breathing dust that lives for vanity.
I'm now alive but died with Him; and then,
Will die to live a life, and will not die
Again of death that doubled-killed the men
Born dead, although, alive, yet passers-by...
The residents of deathless fire where dwell
Those who died dead to die a death in Hell.
poem by Ray Remalig
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Interactive Poetry
when i wake up this morning
sleep is still sleeping
and i slip out of the blanket
not to disturb sleep which
is still soundly snoring
last night we did not pretend
that we were two dead people
sleep was tightly curled upon itself
its arms were not around me
and i could not remember anymore
exactly
whatever happened
to me
or us
if there ever be
this morning
sleep is dead
and i survive
to meet another face of death
in the kitchen
and also in the rest room
and also outside the house
into the road and in the office
where i am working
there are so many faces of death
in my own world
and i am not the loyal subject of sleep
which is death's younger sister
neither am i a friend of death
nor its foe
for out of this everyday encounter
death becomes nothing
but another furniture in the hall
another rock in the garden
part of the numerous leaves in the air
one of those many ' its'
that does not
really disturb me anymore
tonight i will sleep with sleep again
(it is dead and unburied)
i do not name sleep for you
since i too does not know about its true details
or identity
its name its age
when it was born
though i know exactly when it really died
as i have already told you
and what totally is it exactly
the whole truth about its snores and sleep walks and talks
its secrets inside those thick blankets
for in truth in this journey
we sleep with sleep
most of the time
(do i hear ninety percent approving?)
we do not know much of it anyway
or frankly
much less
perhaps
at any rate
(and this may have bored you
to an ending that
bears no significance to your present work)
how can we be interested with such an ordinary matter
that occurs
every minute of the hour?
and what is it that is really worth
writing and
understanding in this world
that does not listen?
(do i hear 95% of you screaming?)
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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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
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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Me & You
(skip ewing/ray herndon)
Ordinary no, really dont think so
Not a love this true
Common destiny
We were meant to be
Me and you
Like a perfect scene from a movie screen
Where every dream comes true
Suited perfectly for eternity
Me and you
Every day, I need you even more
At the nighttime too
Theres no way
I could ever let you go
Even if I wanted to
Every day I live
I try my best to give
All I have to you
I thank the stars above
That we share this love me and you
Every day, I need you even more
At the nighttime too
Theres no way
I could ever let you go
Even if I wanted to
Ordinary no, I really dont think so
Just a precious few
Ever make it last
Get as lucky as
Me and you
Me and you
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Death of the life
Death is not to be laughed at,
Nor cried at,
Death it is strong,
But will give up,
Death is the soul,
To every living creature,
Death well be in every story,
As life goes on,
Death is more then what we can handle,
But we live to die,
Death well wait,
Till it is yours turn,
Death is now my nightmares,
And in your too,
Do not run from death,
For it well get you worst,
And
Death is forever,
And never.
poem by Anna Reeves
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Mark R. Slaughter
Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty
And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation
Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy
They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes
I rot
(They fade)
To be the plant
(They'll water)
I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter
Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind
That I of soul
Remain eternal
Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot
Flirts like a ballerina
STOPS
Wonders of the world
My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future
I'll wait
For his appraisal
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
A Trail of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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