Friendly Words
Words are acts in friendship, in common language,
We carry out tasks for the joke and story,
Holes in the ground are worth filling
As death is again at service, and death is willing.
Gold is found there, it serves the purpose of God,
The purpose is to exist and dissolve venom that describes,
It is poison that bites your head and hands
Like a golden bee and a stinging wasp.
Words shall direct their effort, and they swing from place to place.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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
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Ringmasters Word
I have a purpose...
Take your dill knife, stab me, go, strike my heart...(ha ha, ha ha...ha ha, ha ha )
I have a purpose...
Such things cant exist...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them...
I have a purpose...
Quietly, I will come over your bed,
I will lean over and gently bite your neck...
Ringmaster...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them
song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden words
As word suggest golden,
brightness always retained,
even buried underground,
It’s inherence never detained,
So the words beautifully chosen,
carefully selected and weighed,
may retain sweetness,
even lost for a while,
Friendship from a friend,
with chosen word,
touches heart bare,
only to find place in it,
It will never cost more,
Wicked may do it more often,
Just to cheat a noble soul,
Only to loose it once again,
Do grief over not a words,
for words are just a gimmick,
played for safety and skill,
Just to say it is fun and comic,
I may not fall to prey,
Again to loose golden place,
Wicked I may have the design,
but with all good intention,
May I wish all happiness,
in her life to come,
let all black clouds disappear,
let my Roshan get better shine,
Gold may loose charm again,
silver lines may disappear,
let friends go in oblivion,
but friendship not in vain,
Curse not luck and fate,
All are but same side of coin,
one side may be dark,
other side may be 'Roshan' or bright
Both sides stand equal to me,
What is dark or what is bright,
If both are to be there,
let bright be with her,
I shall carry with black,
hope to find golden rays,
when fall on golden coin,
inscribed words may shine and speak
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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
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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Something in name
I read rich man’s name on cemetery
I have business to offer any commentary
Was it a service to dead or buried?
What message did it convey or carry?
It has become tradition to put a name plate
It may read only name but his life time work may not relate
It may add to some existing facility
Some times it may improve structure’s quality
It may have two pronged drive
One o earn good name and second to make believe
Whole point of time people might have cursed
But let other people see his name and bless
It is quite easy to understand the logic
It has nothing but fame called magic
Little portion of money is earmarked for charity
This gesture is presented as rare step of nobility
For whole life we run in madness for wealth
When it is achieved then there is loss of good health
There is no time left for its pleasure or enjoyment
Inner soul may revolt but nothing is left for comment
I pray to God for instilling such belief in human mind
It is creation of unique impact and of its own kind
“Let people remember me after death” thinks person
He stresses his mind for this cause without any reason
Whole life we did little or almost nothing
“Why not have cheap popularity or something”
Mind is completely bogged down on different sides
It has its own perception and divides
I know of a man who lived life of noble man
He felt himself alone in this world as orphan
He had nothing to hide in life as ordinary man
Everybody in small town bow their head to this man
It is appreciated to certain extent
No one should shed tears or lament
If it serves the purpose of common man or community
It must be applauded as mark of unity
It is common to read school. and Colleges named after
It is not matter of joke which leads to any laughter
Some of the deprived lots may get benefit out of it
Darkness to some extent may disappear and lead to light
I suggest well to do may be encouraged to donate more
Let their names be added to history and adored
What if some of the undeserving finds their names in golden words?
At least they may find their names along with the lords
In days to come I may find statues with status
It may have well descript words with notes
It may so happen that it will give different picture
We may have false glory with dark future
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Villanelle
A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle
A DAINTY thing's the Villanelle,
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A double-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime--
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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You Write Because Of A Certain Purpose
writing with a purpose.
like everything and everyone
always with a purpose...
beauty, and hope and sadness
and death and redemption...
all these have built-in purposes
but whatever that is
the things-in-themselves
without mouths speak for what they mean
outstretched tendrils looking for the ray of the sun
blooming petals wanting for someone to adore
pathways seeking themselves on a certain destinations
seas covering the earth giving way to the existence of maps
and so i write, i keep the purpose within my letters
my words that you read
this poem that shows arms opening
to embrace you and also to keep my cold heart warm.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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God's Will Manifests In Paul
We believe in God.
God has definite
opinions about
current world events
even when we are gone
others will still voice
new similar concerns.
What talent we have
is God's unseen will
sometimes explicit God
chooses Paul for example
had no freedom of choice
his passion was exact direct
interaction of God's will
changed his life purpose
Paul became an instrument
in service to God's will
location timing was God's
rest of Paul's ministry
life belonged to God
Paul had God's words
purpose to preach God's
miracles to perform
14 books in Bible to write
all was God's will.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Death without purpose
death for me I must embrace,
death for me, is a OK place,
For death waits for me with open arms,
For I have dealt death,
Death is now being dealt to me,
For I thought I had a Angel,
A savior,
The person who pick me up and gave me purpose,
A love I had thought I never imagined,
Now this is gone if you could only imagine,
You had my soul, now my soul is gone,
Who am I with out you? With out my soul?
With out you making me hole,
Now death is awaiting me with a smile,
No purpose, no love, no soul,
Life and death, death and life,
they stand side by side in the end,
For now death hands me its hand,
I don’t know who I am,
So death once again offers its hand,
Such a easy offer right at hand,
For its a easy answer,
For all I feel, death does seem the sure deal,
Sorrow, pain, heart ache, purposeless, loveless,
Hate for ones self, for all the things I have done,
This sure seems the answer,
Death looks at me with a glean in his eye,
He knows I am tempted to take the easy way out,
Is that such a terrible thing to have offered?
Do be tempted to take?
What else is there now left for me to take?
What else do I have to be taken now?
If this is the choice I make,
Don’t mourn for me for its to late,
Don t show me sympathy I have to shake,
Just let me go,
I choose this, not you, not your blame
Take my soul,
It is your, once always, and forever,
When the going gets rough,
Remember what I stood for,
For I can not stand for myself,
I can not take the this feeling I have inside,
I'm lost with out you by my side.
Will I be judged for the things I have done?
The sins I have committed?
Well in the end it really doesn't matter, now does it?
Now death is waiting patiently by my side,
Now as I lye here awake with a gentle shake,
I know what it is to have death on my side,
So now I say goodbye,
Death is taking me for a ride,
poem by John Pollock
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Common Ground
These are not dispassionate words of the cool
The headline still rules the editors a fool
Shall we douse out the flames or will everybody fuse
And leave us stranded here tomorrow
I heard a calling out, a cry from the heart
From the towns of cement and the beauty
A whisper its turned howl, man he didnt know
He was standing waiting for tomorrow
Nothings left, nothings found, there must be some common ground
I could never figure the calendars flow
Nor can I work out how the wild, wild wind blows
But were ready from within and were starting to go
Away from the place of no tomorrow
Nothings left, nothings found, there must be some common ground
Nothings left, (? ? ? ) I see there must be some common ground
Oh the wrecking fields are a terrible place
With a sulphurous smell and a frightening pace
And the hook goes early and the critic is king
Its hard to stay human and stand in the ring
Theres no time to be absent, a clown or a fool
While shylock is smiling were loaded like mules
If we surrender ourself to industrial rules
Well wake up in the wreckage of tomorrow
Now
Nothings left, nothings found, there must be some common ground
Nothings left, somethings found, can we see some common ground
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poison Girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death's Fears & Secrets (blank verse)
I have learnt some things about death recentl
this is what I have discovered
Death is a race, it is more then one being
It kills people everywhere everyday as it can't be everywhere
Unless it was more then one
Death is a secret, it is livings worst kept secret
For we are surrounded by death in life
Constantly we fear it, as it must fear us
Death has its fear, that is the end of everything
For when the universe is gone and nothing is left
Death end, and ceases to exist
Death plays its games, every few centuries or millenium
It lets us thrive to the point where we are too many
Then it kills us excessively in multiple ways
Death is merely us, though invisible
It wonders too, looking for something to do
While it wonder the universe
It has purpose
poem by Ethan Wilson
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Snake Bite
Snake bite
Venom strikes
Into your bloodstream it goes
To kill you slow
Oh so slow
Watch the venom as it flows
Your blood it pulses
Your body convulses
Onto the floor you'll be
Deader than dead
Venom as thick as lead
Anger in the snake's head
A poison quick
The killer kiss
Snake venom is the way to
Death's Slow Bliss
poem by Janelle Morehart
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An Unintended Blessing
the critic serves a useful purpose
criticism can contain a surprising
amount of suddenly revealed truth
comments may have been venom versed
yet these are a great source of inspiration
in identifying areas to accurately improve
my philosophy, to use criticism, for a better,
more determined purpose, as focus point,
as an inspiration, to succeed, to attain excellence
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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
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Poison Girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do I Have Writers Block?
It's a question one can only answer themselves.
I write as it's pleasure for me and relieves stress and tension.
But I have no due date a publisher has set.
To force the words.
I think is quite absurd.
But then again it is not my bread and butter.
A lively hood slipping from ones own finger tips.
Keys are pressed and still all their is more emptiness.
A dark abyss does exist in the monetary gains of a passion.
A blockage of a drain that wants to keep emptying.
A plunger that has no force left at all.
The rubber has worn right off the handle.
And each time you try to use it just collapses with huge splash.
A shock to the possibility to limits reached.
The question isn't can you do it once more.
But what was your reason for doing it in the first place?
Does it still exist in the present pretense?
For a purpose without reason isn't really a purpose at all.
A guidance to ones gentle fall.
With skinned knees maybe you can get back up.
And ride that horse once more.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I would guess that the decision to create a small special purpose language or use an existing general purpose language is one of the toughest decisions that anyone facing the need for a new language must make.
quote by Guido van Rossum
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Or Lie
If all I knew was a lie
Twisted truth do wickedness imply
Words no meaning certainty deny
Surreal speech reason belie
Truth enslaves purpose lie
That life I would live and die
Memories doped and passion cry
Reality betray my tears to try
A lie is truth compel comply
Friendship foe breath is shy
To be or not my mind standby
Question all I ask why
All that I know is a lie
A truth with purpose to untie
Exist in mystery love defy
Worthless to time hate underlie
If all I knew was a lie
What is life for me to try?
poem by Stephen Dantes
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