You Die
You die and life bestows promise
And reward.
You die and live for the work to end,
And to what reward?
It is a poetry to see people rescued
From the throwing of death.
In this time does the illness vanish,
After the world has escaped a zone of impiety?
We are death, if time is heard beyond the hearing of our ears.
Surely, one feeds on eternity to bestow life.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Death - The Gift of Life
There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life
We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
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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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Fleeting Times
Many men live life for the reward, and never seem to seek The Lord.
And the earnings that they gain, come with frustration and with pain.
The wages they desire to spend, do seem to come to an early end.
So men will seek a bigger door, always looking to earn much more.
The wages that they get my friend, seem to come to a sudden end.
Men fill their own heart with deceit; vainly imaging what life could be.
They follow many earthly dreams, which lead to deceptive schemes.
And with their eyes they cannot see, beyond this earth is an eternity.
Men follow unmet desires within, unaware that many do lead into sin.
All your wages don’t come into play, when speaking of judgment day.
For the only wages that do figure in, are the wages for all of your sin.
These wages secure eternal death, received upon your final breath.
Men seek from others earthly praise, never thinking of eternal days.
Accolades may lift your self esteem, however, what can they redeem.
All your works will come to naught, if Christ Jesus you never sought.
Christ had paid an enormous price, for men to have prosperous life.
But not one an earthly eye can see, for it is tucked away in eternity.
So why not get with it my friend, and start thinking on your final end.
Far above the present moment of time, is an Eternal World sublime.
Many men spend a life in pursuit, of what turns out to be bitter fruit.
This world slowly ceases to be, as we all move towards an eternity.
Time here is just fleeting away, in this world where no one will stay.
When you seek God in this life, God produces blessings in the strife.
And when you do follow The Lord, you shall reap an eternal reward.
And Forever
Forever is impossible to live
Forever is possible when
Death is reached but which life
Forever is no fear of
Death,
Forever is eternity no death
The only cure of old age
Forever is never possible only in death
But forever without death
Is null and void who ever new bff is so sort
The only forever, forever is a simple
Hour glass that’s your life line out of
Time you realize before your time
There no forever the sands of time tell
The truth there is only one
Forever after death heaven the sand of time
Are full and there is forever
poem by Marcellus Watts
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Life and Death, How Ironic
Life, it described my Mother
Life, she was the image
Life, she was healthy
Life, she loved every day
Life, you saw it in her eyes
Life, you heard it in her voice
Life, how ironic it could be
Death, the impossible
Death, too somber a thought for her
Death, she would live a long, long time before it would confront her
Death, sickness maybe, but there is always a cure
Death, not even a thought in the doctor’s mind
Death, it now replaced life
Life and death, my mother passed away with a look of peace on her face
She died knowing that she lived every moment to the fullest.
poem by Janice Karp
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My Time Given Seeks No Reward
A stain has been left on it.
A path I pave.
I suspect someone,
Has taken it for granted.
Believing it easy...
To chase me away!
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
Footprints are all over it.
And trashed by disrespect.
Although none of this was expected...
I accept this with regret.
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
To move forward is a personal quest.
Obstacles challenge.
And they will be faced...
With the best from me,
Unseen yet!
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
I am not motivated,
By spotlight!
Or applause.
Nor am I awed,
By my own accomplishments.
Those things done...
Are released.
Not stored.
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
I continue to be 'me'...
Even when I am ignored.
I choose to adventure.
I choose to explore.
And in 'this' time given,
I do not seek to reach for reward.
My mission is not to sit with impatience.
Or wait for an approval...
Until I am bored.
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
Nor do I rush to aboard a ship,
Not of my accord!
To agree or reconcile with to fit!
My time given,
Seeks no reward.
And I will not investigate,
The slithering movements...
Done to deceive by a snake.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The meeting point
Time had escaped from me,
as if it was somewhere else
and I wasn’t anymore the kid I had been
when I went to war
the person that I was before
and time had left me
to become someone else.
Before the leaving we were two people
with shared thoughts, shared dreams
two people with a similar destiny
beating as the heart of one
but time had escaped from me,
as if it was somewhere else
the world had changed
and now you belonged to another
as if time had left our destiny
and I saw a pretty girl looking at me,
wondered about what she did see
while I bought her a drink,
lit her cigarette
and time stopped, it did cease
while on satin sheets she offered me peace
and about killing, about life and death
why good men fall and I live on
I couldn’t understand
and you were gone,
she offered me her hand
and led me to a nice hot bed
and time had escaped from me,
as if it was somewhere else
while she was still there
etched by the window
and outside the rain was falling
and for moments I was free
from this world with hardship and pain
[Reference: Meeting Point by Louis Macneice.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Life Or Death?
Every day we live, we always face death
We get closer to it, every time we take a breath
Life is special but death brings peace
Life brings reality and things you believe
Death is hard for everyone around
Death is quiet, no more bad sounds
Life is also hard, all the things we go through
Life can never be easy, no matter what you do
Death is sad, for those who cry
Death is meaningful, for those who die
Life is a work of art, it's nice to look
Life is full of teachings, like an open book
Death is the new life, might as well be dead
Death is a lot more, for what's up ahead
Life brings new things, always something new
Life brings surprises, something out the blue
Death is scary, nothing we want to see
Death is negative, a place we don't want to be
Life is full of love, with the ones close to you
Life is full of money, for those who sue
Death is empty, nothing compared to this
Death is a lot of things, too long of a list
But life is everything; don't wait till there's nothing left
Death can wait, so don't waste your last breath
So just pick your choice, which one? Life or death?
poem by Triauna Hall
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Fascination
Death fascinates;
Life can be cruel.
Death is my morbid but most-loved obsession.
Life is hard-
I am out of control.
Death is my relationship to reality-
Life is not fair.
Death is an entity of beauty, though
Life is strange…
Death is veracity, although it can be
The facet of my delusions-
I live my life while
Thoughts of death are so often invasive.
Death is mysterious, and
Life is a river refracting light-
Death is dark but intriguing.
Life is amazing.
Death in turn- is amazing as it can be.
I live my life in a dream world.
Death is indeed mysterious, although-
Life
Is
Stranger…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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What Death Is Great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: what death is great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
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O death!
O death!
Thou great leveller
Of titles before a name,
Of degrees after a name
Of wealth and of poverty
O death!
No hearing or seeing
No tasting or smelling
No feeling or thinking
No suffering or celebrating
O death!
No body or soul
A spirit-filled life
A life of knowing in a different way
A life of relating in a different way
O death!
No life as we know it
No space as we know it
No time as we know it
But life experienced in all its fullness.
O death!
O death, where is thy victory?
O death, where is thy sting?
From being deciduous
We’ve become evergreen.
©2009
James Hart
poem by James Hart
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Patterned By Christ
I want to live my life every day, pointing others to a better way,
In how to live their daily life, through the power of Jesus Christ,
To live in that way prescribed, by Jesus Christ, before He died,
For all believers Christ did give, the pattern of how we’re to live.
Just how to live our life for God, while we’re on this earthly sod,
A life to glorify our Risen King, through every day in everything,
For this life isn’t intended me, but for pointing others to eternity,
Where we’ll live forever friend; in a life with God that has no end.
I live this life not on my own, but with power from God’s Throne,
This as I live my life for Him, the one who saved me from my sin,
A life at first you don’t chose, but once you start you can’t lose,
As living each day for the Lord, produces for one untold reward.
Living no longer for yourself, creates a sense of spiritual wealth,
Learning to live a day at a time, produces in one, peace of mind,
Following that pattern left for us, in The Father, I learned to trust,
While in my life God does for me, so much more than I can see.
The only one I choose to follow, in the world so dark and hollow,
As God fills all that emptiness, with The Savior’s Righteousness,
While the pattern Christ left for man, leads to God’s Eternal Plan,
In a coming life we’ve yet to see, that will begin for us in Eternity.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
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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Life Or Death
what is life without death
what is death without life
people comes from the big blue sky
people fly up high when they die
their familys start to cry
life is cold
to the bold
want to turn in to gold
but life is getting old
death is black
like a black cat
hard to know when death is coming
but death is coming
so live your life to the fullest
and to the goodest
cause soon death will knocking at your door
so you would just be laying in your death bed
with nothing to say
with one thing in your head
is this LIFE or DEATH
poem by Demarcus Walker
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Quickness of Life
Death is going on...
To replenish what's be taken!
To fulfill a wish,
That was untimely aborted.
Death upon us,
Is linked to the life we know.
We review the affects of death...
As if those among the living 'know'.
'Is there a look of confidence among them?
When Jesus is spotted...
Bring Him to the front of the line! '
We treat death as if it does not exist!
Like those who are racists,
With other assorted mental limits.
As if it is ignored...
Away it will go!
Death is the other side of life...
Coming to bestow,
A reason to enjoy life and live!
And many don't get it!
And yet some get it much too soon!
And everything that can be touched
Now can and is taken away!
Since death is far greater,
Than the quickness of life...
Coming for moments to glow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life is but a lesson...
At birth I was ripped from my warm safe place,
Yet now I fear death so I flee it with haste.
As a babe in my youth I yearned for more years,
But as time's passed me by it's age I now fear...
Into this world I was born and life gave me breath,
Now each path that I choose always leads to my death.
For both death and life are old inseperable friends,
My life's but a lesson just a means to an end...
If I live life to the fullest will time pass me by?
If I start asking questions will I ever know why?
Wisdom is gibberish and gibberish is clear,
What I most wanted once is now what I most fear...
When I want most to live will it be time to die?
I dont want life to end! Will that be my last cry?
I think death must be life and to leave is to stay,
So I pray hell is heaven when my life slips away...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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True Poetry in Limelight
True poetry is filled with;
true inspiration,
true expression,
true composition,
true fun,
true-maturity,
true wisdom,
and true spirituality.
True poetry; deeply translate its true expression to the readers,
providing an unusual mutual extension which connects and familiarize its profuse massages to the reader.
True poetry has great powers of profundity
and unadulterated knowledge.
I keep hearing the saying; ‘plenty poetry lay in the graveyards'
but I don't give into that, because;
true poetry is like a moving destiny, its never lost or buried away.
No matter how beautifully engraved the grave is;
it must surely resurrect and be discovered in another creative beloved beholder.
True poetry never rest in tombs,
that's why it continuously itch thumbs and tongues until it is spoken or wittingly actualized.
True poetry, never frustrates a reader,
It's an excise which lustrates the brain and feelings.
Even if a poetry tries to depict political damnation, poverty, heartbreak, dearth/death, illness, or hunger,
it should always portray wondrous lesson or a revival mission.
True poetry makes you everything you want to be.
you can surely write your life the way you want it to be,
because your destiny is in your true poetry.
poem by King Femi Oloidi
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