Different Deaths
A different line was written on the sides of humanity,
Flaky flames rose to be cluttered smoke, proper particles.
I as a dead captain decomposed, and felt stiff opposition,
From the angelic companions always following me.
The deafening trumpet was blown through divine nostrils,
The chubby flesh of the dead overgrew with their agile motion.
Once resurrected you must be sweet and solemn,
For your resurrector forbade war and politics
On the last day, on which you pained your souls forever.
Electric currents, invoked by the highest forces,
Collected and drove anger at the hearts of men.
They were all to be resurrected eventually,
To be dead before that.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Waiting On The Rapture
True Christians encouraging one another
keep on praying encouraging one another
praying in fellowship to God for global peace
praying for kingdom to come in sin release
a day for God is like a thousand years for us
therefore but two days ago when Jesus left us
therefore second coming any minute any second now
therefore faithful friends sow ministry fine seeds now
our faith is Jesus died then resurrected rose went to heaven
faith is souls fallen asleep in death be resurrected to heaven
the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a mighty shout
Jesus with his voice of an archangel will call with God’s trumpet
then the dead in union with Jesus Christ will rise up to heaven first
then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together next
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Scripture sources 2 Thessalonians 2: 6-8,1 Thessalonians 4: 16-17,1 Corinthians 15: 51, Luke 21: 36,1 Thessalonians 1: 10, Revelation 3: 10 and Revelation 4: 1-4.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Cannot Save The Dead
WE CANNOT SAVE THE DEAD
We cannot save the dead,
Though we perfect our forms of remembrance-
The dead are the dead forever dead-
And we will too one day be among them
Dead forever dead-
Despite the way those left behind strive to remember.
Dead forever dead-
Unless God decide
In some way we cannot understand
That the individual human being
Is as infinitely precious
As those who love them here
know them to be.
-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dead Prayers
hearts trek
feet travel to the road
leading to unknown tombs
forgotten by the winding clocks
never remembered by the heart
and troubled souls
reach the unpainted walls
of a moss decorated crypt
and the dead souls
shouts dead prayers
only the dead can understand
what are halloween prayers anyway?
for uncaring bones
became stout by the earth
addicted by the rain of forgetfullness
and drugged by dreams gone wild
of wisdom lost
in a maze of unknown heavens
in a hell never found..
yet it is Halloween
so hearts still murmur
souls still recite
dead prayers for all
dead souls
encaged on dead tombs
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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Dead Love
Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark,
White as a dead stark-stricken dove:
None that pass by him pause to mark
Dead love.
His heart, that strained and yearned and strove
As toward the sundawn strives the lark,
Is cold as all the old joy thereof.
Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark
When rings the trumpet blown above:
It will not raise from out the dark
Dead love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Stop Dead
Stop!
Stop!
Stop dead,
Stop stop stop stop stop stop
I pulled up at a west end junction (seeker of attention)
A full body kit and bass bins pumping (size up competition)
Come on red light, get into green,
I hit the brake, I must be dreaming..
Im stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose you, from my sight
Where ya going to?
Gotta know now..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose, you from my sight
Where ya going to?
Oh-oh-oh
Ive got my eyes on the action (killer reputation)
Heat crazed in full satisfaction (become a phaser? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Body in motion, now you see me
(chorus)
Gotta know know.. stop!
Come on now, come on now
Come on now, come on now
Wise up to remain young victim (come on, ways of attraction)
A full scale attack on the system (come on, no one visor? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Im into red line territory
And im..
(chorus)
Stop!, dead in my tracks again,
Im stop dead in my tracks
Stop!, in my tracks (yeah)
Im stop dead in my tracks
(oh-oh) gotta know know..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead And Broken
Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Telegraphic Poems...
used to be that
during those old time... mama dead, come home immediately.
or...happy birthday, may you have more birthdays to come...or...
we share your victory...happy graduation... or
papa cannot come home, bad weather... or
send money, tuition....or
those times... communication is...very slow....sometimes, the dead
was already buried...or resurrected...when the telegram for condolences
arrived....
got you poem today...in the same manner...telegraphic in form...
deciphered... like... each word has a value....bill follows.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Resurrected Awaken The Dead...
The resurrected shall awaken the dead
When this time of chaos runs its course
Era of love and peace lay just ahead
The “Law of One” universe doth enforce
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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New World Order
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the
Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Words
Three laconic words I love you enshroud
The hearts of those of dead love
Angels whom hide behind love's cloud
Below here on earth from up above
Each line a line in their ivory dipped wings
I love you I love you captivate
Thine hearts of hearts the angels sing
As our hearts draw close and gravitate
Dead words in dead song the poet grieves
At the grave of love of dead grizzled white
To resurrect thee with I love you he believes
In love, every love, love at first sight
As the clouds, separate and light shine through
All hearts eyes gaze and learn
It's true, it's true
In the words I love you we burn….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead
WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD
When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-
When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?
When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-
When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-
When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy
When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.
When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Written-In-Red
(To Our Living Dead in Mexico's Struggle)
Written in red their protest stands,
For the gods of the World to see;
On the dooming wall their bodiless hands
have blazoned "Upharsin," and flaring brands
Illumine the message: "Seize the lands!
Open the prisons and make men free!"
Flame out the living words of the dead
Written-in-red.
Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb!
Your guns have spoken and they are dust.
But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb,
have felt the beat of a wakening drum
Within them sounding-the Dead men's tongue—
Calling: "Smite off the ancient rust!"
Have beheld "Resurrexit," the word of the Dead,
Written-in-red.
Bear it aloft, O roaring, flame!
Skyward aloft, where all may see.
Slaves of the World! Our cause is the same;
One is the immemorial shame;
One is the struggle, and in One name—
MANHOOD— we battle to set men free.
"Uncurse us the Land!" burn the words of the Dead,
Written-in-red.
poem by Voltairine de Cleyre
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Dead Fox Hunter
We found the little captain at the head;
His men lay well-aligned.
We touched his hand &mdash stone cold &mdash and he was dead,
And they, all dead behind,
Had never reached their goal, but they died well;
They charged in line, and in the same line fell.
They well-known rosy colours of his face
Were almost lost in grey.
We saw that, dying and in hopeless case,
For others' sake that day
He'd smothered all rebellious groans: in death
His fingers were tight clenched between his teeth.
For those who live uprightly and die true
Heaven has no bars or locks,
And serves all taste...or what's for him to do
Up there, but hunt the fox?
Angelic choirs? No, Justice must provide
For one who rose straight and in hunting died.
So if Heaven had no Hunt before hecame,
Why, it must find one now:
If any shirk and doubt they know the game,
There's one to teach them how:
Andthe whole host of Seraphim complete
Must jog in scarlet to his opening Meet.
poem by Robert Graves
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special Oil
On a fine wee hours
I suddenly found myself
among the heaps of dead bodies
as I was eaten yesterday so they were
all by none other than men to become
more valuable than them and waiting
patiently in a queue to be decomposed
with a magic lotion to be put to become
smoke of the factory having been gotten
a chance to pip into the deep pit of a well
of oil I saw with a great shock innumerable
lines of bodies some were dead some were
half alive decomposing with super special
chemicals to become oil after thousands of
years to be fit for the factories exactly like me
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Remembering the dead
The king has been dead.
The queen has been dead.
So are many kin;
So are my parents.
Do they live by souls?
I’m not sure of it.
Remembering the dead
Is the existence of souls.
Let us remember them
Who have impacted us.
30.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Post - Death Living
English language dead,
Can Shakespeare thrive?
Knowing souls dead,
Can dead souls exist?
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Power Of Mighty Silence
to stare and be unmoved
by any blocks
of inhumanity
the silence to violence
the ability
to be in place where others
stone you
the capacity to endure
the bleeding
when others slice your flesh
and eat them
like bacon
to stand your ground
when you
are right
to be unmoved in silence
when others
are laughing
and mocking
to be simply christlike
and look up
to the heavens
when the skies turn black
to give in to death
and feel the power
beyond it
why not?
why not?
be passionate
and be dead
and then
be too resurrected
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Caring For a Dead Fish
When the cupboard is bare
And the cat’s had the cream,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the house is on fire
And the birds have all flown,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When your loved ones have gone
And you’re left all alone,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the seas have dried up
And the land is all desert,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When the Sun has gone Nova
And we’re all blown to bits,
Who cares about a dead fish?
When it’s all empty space
And there’s nothing at all,
Even a dead fish would be worth caring about.
poem by Pete Crowther
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One And One Are Two
The trumpet sounded and the dead
Came forth from earth and ocean,
And Pickering arose and sped
Aloft with wobbling motion.
'What makes him fly lop-sided?' cried
A soul of the elected.
'One ear was wax,' a rogue replied,
'And isn't resurrected.'
Below him on the pitted plain,
By his abandoned hollow,
His hair and teeth tried all in vain
The rest of him to follow.
Saint Peter, seeing him ascend,
Came forward to the wicket,
And said: 'My mutilated friend,
I'll thank you for your ticket.'
'The _Call_,' said Pickering, his hand
To reach the latch extended.
Said Peter, affable and bland:
'The free-list is suspended
'What claim have you that's valid here?'
That ancient vilifier
Reflected; then, with look austere,
Replied: 'I am a liar.'
Said Peter: 'That is simple, neat
And candid Anglo-Saxon,
But-well, come in, and take a seat
Up there by Colonel Jackson.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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