Song. Translated From The German
Ah! grasp the dire dagger and couch the fell spear,
If vengeance and death to thy bosom be dear,
The dastard shall perish, death’s torment shall prove,
For fate and revenge are decreed from above.
Ah! where is the hero, whose nerves strung by youth,
Will defend the firm cause of justice and truth;
With insatiate desire whose bosom shall swell,
To give up the oppressor to judgement and Hell--
For him shall the fair one twine chaplets of bays,
To him shall each warrior give merited praise,
And triumphant returned from the clangour of arms,
He shall find his reward in his loved maiden's charms.
In ecstatic confusion the warrior shall sip,
The kisses that glow on his love's dewy lip,
And mutual, eternal, embraces shall prove,
The rewards of the brave are the transports of love.
OCTOBER, 1809.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Song. To -- [Harriet]
Stern, stern is the voice of fate's fearful command,
When accents of horror it breathes in our ear,
Or compels us for aye bid adieu to the land,
Where exists that loved friend to our bosom so dear,
'Tis sterner than death o’er the shuddering wretch bending,
And in skeleton grasp his fell sceptre extending,
Like the heart-stricken deer to that loved covert wending,
Which never again to his eyes may appear--
And ah! he may envy the heart-stricken quarry,
Who bids to the friend of affection farewell,
He may envy the bosom so bleeding and gory,
He may envy the sound of the drear passing knell,
Not so deep is his grief on his death couch reposing,
When on the last vision his dim eyes are closing!
As the outcast whose love-raptured senses are losing,
The last tones of thy voice on the wild breeze that swell!
Those tones were so soft, and so sad, that ah! never,
Can the sound cease to vibrate on Memory’s ear,
In the stern wreck of Nature for ever and ever,
The remembrance must live of a friend so sincere.
AUGUST, 1810.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Is It Really Justice or Just Revenge?
Is capital punishment justice or is it revenge?
This is the question that I want to defend.
Is it really justice if you have to kill someone?
Or is the killing of a being just for your fun?
Is a murder really justified if the culprit spends less time in jail?
If so then it seems capital punishment is just easy bail.
They should be punished and not given an out of jail card,
All capital punishment is doing is spending money, cold and hard.
Wanting them to die doesn’t seem like justice but revenge?
It leaves blood on your hands when there life ends.
Life is full of trials and tribulations this is a must,
But if you kill a man then it won’t make life any more just.
Justice is using authority to give a fair decree,
But intended death to a being doesn’t seem fair to me.
Revenge is to satisfy in retaliation,
But death’s your one hit wonder, one satisfaction.
So I will always choose the criminals to defend,
Leaving you with your decision: justice or revenge?
poem by Amy Fifita
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My Aztec Warrior
My Aztec warrior,
Will you protect me?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you save me?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you love me?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you obey me?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you help me?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you be there for me?
My Aztec warrior,
Are you strong?
My Aztec warrior,
Are you brave?
My Aztec warrior,
Are you fierce?
My Aztec warrior,
Will you stay by my side,
Or will you leave me,
Like everyone else...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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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
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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Old And New
Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays,
Old times, old loves, old friendships, and old wine
Why should the old monopolise all praise?
Then let the new claim mine.
Give me strong new friends, when the old prove weak,
Or fail me in my darkest hour of need;
Why perish with the ship that springs a leak,
Or lean upon a read?
Give me new love, warm, palpitating, sweet,
When all the grace and beauty leaves the old;
When like a rose it withers at my feet,
Or like a hearth grows cold.
Give me new times, bright with a prosperous cheer,
In place of old, tear-blotted, burdened days;
I hold a sunlit present far more dear,
And worthy of my praise.
When the old creeds are threadbare, and worn through,
And all too narrow for the broadening soul,
Give me the fine, firm texture of the new,
Fair, beautiful and whole.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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To Captain H------D, Of The 65th Regiment
SAY, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight
The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight?
Lo! here the christian and the hero join
With mutual grace to form the man divine.
In H-----D see with pleasure and surprise,
Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies:
Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame,
And add new glories to thine honour'd name,
Still to the field, and still to virtue true:
Britannia glories in no son like you.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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The Irishman's Song
The stars may dissolve, and the fountain of light
May sink into ne'er ending chaos and night,
Our mansions must fall, and earth vanish away,
But thy courage O Erin! may never decay.
See! the wide wasting ruin extends all around,
Our ancestors' dwellings lie sunk on the ground,
Our foes ride in triumph throughout our domains,
And our mightiest heroes lie stretched on the plains.
Ah! dead is the harp which was wont to give pleasure,
Ah! sunk is our sweet country's rapturous measure,
But the war note is waked, and the clangour of spears,
The dread yell of Sloghan yet sounds in our ears.
Ah! where are the heroes! triumphant in death,
Convulsed they recline on the blood sprinkled heath,
Or the yelling ghosts ride on the blast that sweeps by,
And 'my countrymen! vengeance!' incessantly cry.
OCTOBER, 1809
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Warrior
Wasnt there a time
When no one lived in pain
Zero down to zero
But a warrior
The innocence of birth
The power of the earth
Out of all thats good
Comes a warrior
Time - is it you who changes minds
Suing us - for something weve not done
Stealing the heroes - all the guiding lights, to find the way
Justice has been gone
To pieces for so long
Some killers call themselves
A warrior
Warriors with no pride
Committing suicide
The picture of a man
Thats your warrior
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
Think about the time
Where manhood promised pride
And history was made
Just by warriors
We have to face the world
And hope that someones heard
Who could replace a man
Like the warrior
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
Time - is it you who changes minds
Suing us - for something weve not done
Stealing the heroes - all the guiding lights, to find the way
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior..........
song performed by by U. D. O.
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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The Queen Mother's Faith: Love Lives On!
My love's not like a red, red rose because a rose can die...
My love lives on, past death it goes and grows not asking why...
It has no need to ask at all the reason it exists...
It simply answers my heart's call, content that it persists.
Think not my death ends love's embrace, for love's eternal, dear...
It overcomes what fools can't face and what all cowards fear.
Death's lost its sting and poison, too! What can it do to me?
In truth, I've seen the Saviour's view who conquered Calvary!
In Him, I hold no fear of death, for it can't crush my soul...
God grants to me eternal breath and blood it can't control!
That's why I'll love you when I'm gone and wait till you join me...
By faith, I've seen the Saviour's Throne, beheld His majesty!
Think not that I'm then lost in space and distanced from your heart,
For I'm still in a state of grace with God's Love to impart...
I'll be with you throughout all time! I'll love you without end!
I'll prove to you that love's sublime - more faithful than a friend!
Believe in me as in the Lord who gave His life to save...
Think not of me as one ignored still dormant in a grave...
I live in Christ, triumphant still! Forgiven all my sins...
I love you now... I always will... I simply serve God's Prince...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Give Me More Time
(coverdale/galley)
I want you
I need your rhyme,
But, you keep saying, babe,
Its gonna take time
I know the heartache
I put you through,
Believe me, babe,
Im gonna make it up to you
You are the reason
Im down on my knees,
Im begging you to give me a chance
If only you would
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
To prove it to you...
So many feelings
I cant explain,
I never thought Id ever cause you any pain
Now Im alone here
An I cant hide,
The sun dont shine for me
Without you by my side
You are the reason
Im down on my knees,
Im begging you to give me a chance
If only you would
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time
To prove it to you...
An Im gonna prove it...
I want you
Right by my side
cos youre the only one who keeps me satisfied
I need your loving,
I need your charms,
I cant stand the through of you
In someone elses arms
You are the reason
Im down on my knees,
Im begging you to give me a chance
If only you would
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time,
Give me just a little more time
To prove it to you...
An Im gonna prove it...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Platonic Lady
I could love thee till I die,
Would'st thou love me modestly,
And ne'er press, whilst I live,
For more than willingly I would give:
Which should sufficient be to prove
I'd understand the art of love.
I hate the thing is called enjoyment:
Besides it is a dull employment,
It cuts off all that's life and fire
From that which may be termed desire;
Just like the bee whose sting is gone
Converts the owner to a drone.
I love a youth will give me leave
His body in my arms to wreathe;
To press him gently, and to kiss;
To sigh, and look with eyes that wish
For what, if I could once obtain,
I would neglect with flat disdain.
I'd give him liberty to toy
And play with me, and count it joy.
Our freedom should be full complete,
And nothing wanting but the feat.
Let's practice, then, and we shall prove
These are the only sweets of love.
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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The Thanksgiving
Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true,
To thee of all kings only due)
Oh King of wounds! how shall I grieve for thee,
Who in all grief preventest me?
Shall I weep blood? why thou has wept such store
That all thy body was one door.
Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, sold?
'Tis but to tell the tale is told.
'My God, my God, why dost thou part from me? '
Was such a grief as cannot be.
Shall I then sing, skipping, thy doleful story,
And side with thy triumphant glory?
Shall thy strokes be my stroking? thorns, my flower?
Thy rod, my posy? cross, my bower?
But how then shall I imitate thee, and
Copy thy fair, though bloody hand?
Surely I will revenge me on thy love,
And try who shall victorious prove.
If thou dost give me wealth, I will restore
All back unto thee by the poor.
If thou dost give me honour, men shall see,
The honour doth belong to thee.
I will not marry; or, if she be mine,
She and her children shall be thine.
My bosom friend, if he blaspheme thy name,
I will tear thence his love and fame.
One half of me being gone, the rest I give
Unto some Chapel, die or live.
As for thy passion - But of that anon,
When with the other I have done.
For thy predestination I'll contrive,
That three years hence, if I survive,
I'll build a spittle, or mend common ways,
But mend mine own without delays.
Then I will use the works of thy creation,
As if I us'd them but for fashion.
The world and I will quarrel; and the year
Shall not perceive, that I am here.
My music shall find thee, and ev'ry string
Shall have his attribute to sing;
That all together may accord in thee,
And prove one God, one harmony.
If thou shalt give me wit, it shall appear;
If thou hast giv'n it me, 'tis here.
Nay, I will read thy book, and never move
Till I have found therein thy love;
Thy art of love, which I'll turn back on thee,
O my dear Saviour, Victory!
Then for thy passion - I will do for that -
Alas, my God, I know not what.
poem by George Herbert
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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
Poetic Warrior
A poetic warrior with a ball point sword
A typewriter dagger to lose he can't afford
The computer screen or the note pad are his battle field
Inspiration from others are his strong sturdy shield
Negative critics and writers block he can always defeat
Sometimes his heart might be broken still he keeps it concrete
He can take pain and suffering and use it to create
So his wounds can be a weapon knowing others can relate
He is a poetic warrior from the beginning of time
Defending his homeland of metaphor and rhyme
A hero to the reader always saving their mind
In search of shining armor it is him they do find
They are protected from the uninspiring
The ones who are in love with art defiling
It is them he sends spiraling, into the depths of hell
They can feel the truth and the warmth in his rhythm
In his wordplay many messages are unhidden
He is their poetic warrior from the beginning of time
Defending their homeland of metaphor and rhyme
poem by Sam Edison
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Warrior
I am the warrior
I serve the death machine
Losers or conquerors
All flash past on my silver screen
Death is no easy answer
For those who wish to know
Ask those who have been before you
What fate the future holds
It ain't pretty...
I am a messenger
The message here, you must know
I am the warrior
I deliver the fatal blow
So fate will have to wait
Till time can heal the scar
My heart is ruled by Venus
And my head by Mars
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warrior
I am the warrior
I serve the death machine
Losers or conquerors
All flash past on my silver screen
Death is no easy answer
For those who wish to know
Ask those who have been before you
What fate the future holds
It ain't pretty...
I am a messenger
The message here, you must know
I am the warrior
I deliver the fatal blow
So fate will have to wait
Till time can heal the scar
My heart is ruled by Venus
And my head by Mars
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warriors
I am the warrior
I serve the death machine
Losers or conquerors
All flash past on my silver screen
Death is no easy answer
For those who wish to know
Ask those who have been before you
What fate the future holds
It aint pretty...
I am a messenger
The message here, you must know
I am the warrior
I deliver the fatal blow
So fate will have to wait
Till time can heal the scar
My heart is ruled by venus
And my head by mars
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warriors
I am the warrior
I serve the death machine
Losers or conquerors
All flash past on my silver screen
Death is no easy answer
For those who wish to know
Ask those who have been before you
What fate the future holds
It aint pretty...
I am a messenger
The message here, you must know
I am the warrior
I deliver the fatal blow
So fate will have to wait
Till time can heal the scar
My heart is ruled by venus
And my head by mars
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death and the Maiden
BARCAROLE ON THE STYX
Fair youth with the rose at your lips,
A riddle is hid in your eyes;
Discard conversational quips,
Give over elaborate disguise.
The rose's funeral breath
Confirms by intuitive fears;
To prove your devotion, Sir Death,
Avaunt for a dozen of years.
But do not forget to array
Your terror in juvenile charms;
I shall deeply regret my delay
If I sleep in a skeleton's arms.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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