Down In The Dumps
Down in the Dumps
Fog everywhere I’m walking on a mass of corpses
sludge of soft rotting soil. Sinking deeper, arms
and legs embracing me as I should be one of them.
In a lake of loss I swam ashore, a soup of death,
banks of bones, a woman in white helped me up...
she too was the haze and disappeared. I totter in
a desert of nothingness. I heard footsteps behind
me the death wanted me to return to the lagoon of
reconstructed dreams. Heart pounding, but there,
by a horizon, dawn and sun of life warmed my face,
but only briefly. The sky rained blood of the evicted.
Drops were rubies and in each one the nucleolus of
my lies and delusion engraved. Inundated I stopped
could not go on, how do I get free of barbed wire of
melancholy? ” Whispering voices: “You fucking loser.”
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Walking Through Barbed Wire
Wish I could see you for one last time
Wish I could say goodbye to you
It's hard to deal with you dying
It's time to say goodbye to you
Bloody-faced
Kissing death
Walking through barbed wire
I'll let you go
Let me go digging thru myself
I would die for you
I'd walk right thru barbed wire
Good luck in your next life
Walk as tall as the trees
Be gentle as spring winds
And have the warmth of summer sun
I would die die for you
I'd walk right through barbed wire
I blame myself for your death
It's tearing me apart
I would die die for you
Yes I would
Let you go
Let me go digging through myself
Bloody-faced
Kissing death
Walking through barbed wire
song performed by by Papa Roach from Lovehatetragedy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deeper
I cant even look at this skin tonight
Knowing that our time here is on a while
Hold me in your arms and breathe me through
Like I know that you can only do
In your horizon, no, nothing truly dies
Never tremble with fear
Youre just married to the sun
And every second only makes it deeper
Flower pushes through the dune (? ) and blooms
It doesnt have the faintest(? ) that it is due
A virginity is making loss an open wound
In your horizon, no, nothing truly dies
Never tremble with fear
Youre just married to the sun
And every second only makes it deeper
Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper
I was alone in my room
And all I can hear
And all I can hear
Was the sound of my heart beating away
But I will follow you
Deep into the light
Beyond the death of love
Love
In your horizon, no, you will be together
Faith(? ) from this hell
Ill be married to the sun
And every second
Will only make it deeper
Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper
Deeper, deeper
Deeper, deeper
There is a light
Deeper, light
Its deeper than the difference of light
Deeper, light
There is a light
Deeper, light
Its deeper than (..) light
Deeper, light
And I will follow you
Deeper than the death of love
Deeper than the (..) seen(? ) to the light
Its deeper than this flesh and blood
I will follow you
I will follow you
Deeper
song performed by by Live

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walking Thru Barbed Wire
Wish i could see you for one last time wish
I could say goodbye to you
It's hard to deal with you dying
It's time to say goodbye to you
Bloody faced
Kissing death
Walking through barbed wire
I'll let you go
Let me go
Digging through myself
Good luck in your next life
Walk as tall as the trees
Be gentle as the spring winds
And have the warmth of the summer sun
I would die die for you
I'd walk right through barbed wire
I blame myself for
Your death it's tearing me apart
song performed by by Papa Roach

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 4)
Entering the flat
the Constable found no one there.
He searched every room,
nothing, only the fired gun on a note
left on the table.
He had noticed the back window
was left slightly ajar.
He picked up the note
and quickly read it through,
then put it in his pocket
along with the gun.
He smiled to the neighbour
as he left the flat.
He told her to lock it;
Mr D would be coming back.
At the car he got in
saying that,
they had to go back
to the station.
He sat on a bench
near the waters edge.
The white walking stick
resting between his legs.
He could not look at his watch,
as that would give the game away.
A blind man is not supposed to see,
so he had no idea of the time.
All he could tell
that day was turning into night.
He stood up;
he had to stretch his legs.
He moved along to
the bench by the bridge.
The dark waters of the lake,
lapped against the shore.
Then he heard the footsteps
walking across the wooden bridge.
He knew by the sound
they were of a woman’s shoe.
He did not look up
to see who it was,
just listened, as they got closer,
until they were in front of him.
He could now see her face,
under the light of the moon.
Her hair was dark,
and danced on her shoulders.
He wanted to say something,
but though he better not.
The killer could be lurking,
in the bushes somewhere,
waiting for his chance,
when he thought
the coast was clear.
She stopped and stood,
near the waters edge;
she watched the moon’s silver finger
dance on the breeze-ruffled waves.
He sat unnoticed except
for his white walking stick.
The blind could see nothing
at least that is what he hoped
anyone passing would think.
Then from the darkness, he emerged.
A mask of death he wore.
He moved quietly up behind the woman,
extended his hands out to her neck.
To be concluded……
poem by David Harris

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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
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 death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here
Life and death
From short train ride to lover's kiss
My heart is rescued from abyss
From lonely room to night embrace
From barbed wire dreams to silk and lace
When goodbye feels like my last breath
Then the next hello is life and death.
From laughter through a windswept night
That lit our room like candlelight
To trek black hills once iced snow white.
From watching ripples cover streams
Floating leaves and floating dreams.
Euphoria and then the knife
Pain lies between the death and life.
From perfume and your twinkling eye
To dreading one lonely goodbye
Riding with me like an ache in the soul
Lonely in space toward the black hole
From heartbeat close when life has a use
No overdose slipped any noose
From comic role to your Macbeth
Apart, the dice rolls life and death.
poem by Kevin East

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Death of death
Death died death
A tragic death of unusual death
Cemetery moaned, howled and wept alone
Its tears all over the ground
Death! Its sole hunter and soul provider
Graveyard's convulsion of shame
As if death was new
Death was old had to die too
Nothing last forever
There was nothing new
Clouds gathered but never rained
No rain wanted to clean the blood on death
The unusual act of death
Even birds of the feather fights each other
Death died, all were dazed for death of death
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya

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A Call To Arms Denied
We called for arms, Julia.
Boom! Clash! Crash!
The crimson sky can see us
The vermilion soil heeds no vanguard
Julia, we are alone in this
I held you in my callused hands
And we dodge, run, and mangled
Through carrion with black bones
As we taunt death face to face
Closer than your glacial patina
They can see us, they goad us
Their echoing voices spattered with shrapnel
Splintering the defenseless prayers
Until the circle closes in
To suffocate the last sigh of life
They will separate us, Julia.
And we called to arms, denied
The enemy came with big guns
And clouds of blind destruction
So I kissed your lips and pulled the trigger,
Turned the spigot of rubies on
Before they arrive to sliver my bone
And we cried, calling to arms
The paranoia won and its suppurations
Lives on, carries on
To the skeptical and fearful
And the war goes on.
poem by Norman Santos

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Barbed Wire Fences
Barbed wire fences
And chains around the heart
In the grind
Of the circle called life
On and on we go
Around a meaningless show
Where does thou stop
One does not know
Yet we slave on
To be free
Yet what defines freedom
And what is this bond
Or bondages unbound
Freedom is not
Or is Freedom a knot
Tied to barbed wire fences
Where we live in the luxury of nothing
And call it freedom profound
We are but fools
With existences defined
Around are the barbed wire fences
And the joys of it abound.
poem by Ayan excalibur

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Death Reveals A Woman
In the face without masks
Death is a woman
In the moment you know yourself
Death is a woman
At the end of all questions
Death is a woman
As the well of all answers
Death is a woman
At the end of all regrets
Death is a woman
In the liberation through tears
Death is a woman
As the relief from battle
Death is a woman
In the loving embrace
Death is a woman
In the dreamless sleep
And in the endless peace
Death is a woman.
10-12-2007
poem by Sr. ANTONIO MCKINNEY

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Taper In The Storm
All our smiles, chats
Amorous talk.
Faded with the
Time's subtle walk.
No lust, no grief,
But parting song-
Is heard, my dear
From distance long.
Much blood oozed out
From scarlet heart,
Let get dried
Let be it blurred.
Silence' wide mouth,
Nibbling my past;
Storm of minutes
Now spreading vast.
The taper mind
With sinking flame
Will be flown to
Death's own dark realm.
How long can I
Stand still alone
In strong wind and
In hatred zone?
Lonesome days cry,
In nothingness.
Let death and me
Meet face to face!
poem by Nilakshi Das

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The Gruesome
Blood and gore
And bodies galore
Death is reaping
Children are weeping
Chaos, murder
People falling from the sky
And no one seems to care why
Arms legs head feet
All showing their signs of defeat
Why must they die?
This is a question
To never be answered
Hanging corpses
Are telling their stories
Upon the lynching ropes
There is not
A place without rot
Or even a simple blood spot
So leave
Be gone
Away from here
Before you feel
Death rows fear
poem by Sean Miller

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i Saw a Woman
i saw a woman
Dancing on her grave
She smiled and sang
La la lee
La la lo
La la lee
La la lo
She picked up Death's cat
By tail & twirled the thing
La la lee
La la lo
Death watched curriously
How this thing could be
La la lee
He scratched his head
La la lo
The woman looked back at Death
And flipped him off
Her skeleton bones
Were white as snow
Now her dance
Was beginning to slow
Death thought now
Was her time to go
Instead
She skinned the cat
And made a dress
Put it on
And picked up her song
La la lee
Death's eyes popped out
At what he saw next
The woman's bones
Grew new flesh
Her hair combed and tapered in curls
Death ran at her with fury
But tripped along
An old tomebstone
La la lo
Death on the ground
She picked up her dance
And danced on Death
Bone by bone
She trampled him in the ground
The last thing he saw
Was the woman's child
And he sang and danced
La la lee
Along with a whole
Party of bones
La la lo
poem by Deci Hernandez

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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
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
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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And Death Washes Only Bones
And death washes only bones;
The mouth of death speaks oft of every tounge
Never his patience once lost is found in all your nature;
Death washes a bone and the astrologer hands two back,
So the moon when lined up, shines down on Venus asleep.
Time smiles on the heart beating and long of face therein,
death puts it back on the middle shelf prearanged.
And death washes only bones;
Deep valleys are filled with man's rich oil,
And covered over memories by death too often dredged.
Lined up end to end exposed again to harvest the tears of wait;
And death washes only bones and man who drinks so bold,
There being no truth and lies sown shut death eyes all bottoms.
d.t.
poem by Is It Poetry

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Wings are waiting
Not life, death dragged him on
The desert sun scorched his eyes
The heat seared his skin
His mind evaporated to nothingness
The fluttering wings circled in wait
For the lunge, sure of his fate!
The man never minded the arduous trek
Never stopped, never ever took a break
The road ahead drove him on
Losing all on the way, he was alone
Pouring sweats licked his eyes
No sound ever came of his cries
Without a luminescent dream
In life death shadowed him!
When the deadly sun turned brown
The hungry beaks swooped down
Ended the journey long yet mean
Devoured he lay, his bones picked clean!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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Death Alone
There are lone cemeteries,
tombs full of soundless bones,
the heart threading a tunnel,
a dark, dark tunnel :
like a wreck we die to the very core,
as if drowning at the heart
or collapsing inwards from skin to soul.
There are corpses,
clammy slabs for feet,
there is death in the bones,
like a pure sound,
a bark without its dog,
out of certain bells, certain tombs
swelling in this humidity like lament or rain.
I see, when alone at times,
coffins under sail
setting out with the pale dead, women in their dead braids,
bakers as white as angels,
thoughtful girls married to notaries,
coffins ascending the vertical river of the dead,
the wine-dark river to its source,
with their sails swollen with the sound of death,
filled with the silent noise of death.
Death is drawn to sound
like a slipper without a foot, a suit without its wearer,
comes to knock with a ring, stoneless and fingerless,
comes to shout without a mouth, a tongue, without a throat.
Nevertheless its footsteps sound
and its clothes echo, hushed like a tree.
I do not know, I am ignorant, I hardly see
but it seems to me that its song has the colour of wet violets,
violets well used to the earth,
since the face of death is green,
and the gaze of death green
with the etched moisture of a violet's leaf
and its grave colour of exasperated winter.
But death goes about the earth also, riding a broom
lapping the ground in search of the dead -
death is in the broom,
it is the tongue of death looking for the dead,
the needle of death looking for the thread.
Death lies in our beds :
in the lazy mattresses, the black blankets,
lives a full stretch and then suddenly blows,
blows sound unknown filling out the sheets
and there are beds sailing into a harbour
where death is waiting, dressed as an admiral.
poem by Pablo Neruda

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Out Of My Bones
Im in need of a remedy to cure me from loving you
It may sound a little extreme Ill do what I have to do
Chorus:
Bury your jacket in my backyard
Carry your picture in my shoe
Keep walking till the hurting stops
Keep walking till my temperature drops
Keep walking till the fever is gone
And youre out of my bones
Im in need of a medicine
Something strong thatll work real fast
That I can take to fortify me
To keep my arm from taking you back
Chase that ghost out from under my bed
Still these voices in my head
They keep talking weaving their spell
But Im talking to myself
I keep em talking to daylight to dawn
Till youre out of my bones
Sweet amnesia come and set me free
I just need to get you out of me
song performed by by Randy Travis

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Son
You were once a live wire and full of beans,
with burning desires and endless dreams.
But you always wanted that little bit more
and a soldiers life appealed for sure.
Opportunities to see the world and have a career
was enough to tempt any young pioneer.
You soon made friends and settled in
and enjoyed the life of soldiering.
You did your tours and won a stripe,
but the killing part you didn’t like.
Seeing women and children covered in blood,
and comrades dying did you no good.
When you returned from Afghanistan
you came back a different man.
You tossed and turned in your sleep,
and shouted to God, your soul to keep.
You said you carried the smell of death
inside your nose and upon your breath,
and that you could never go back again,
and face the horrors that caused you pain.
But you did return to those theatres of death,
but not as the boy I knew when you first left.
The realities of war had scared your soul
and your spirit of life was the heavy toll.
poem by Orlando Belo

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