Death Wish Revised
yes there were three of
us
we were one company on that day when it was about to rain
it did not.
we were wearing white
someone wished death for the other
but no one was telling
it is the truth
that death-wish that is there but we do not like to admit
it is there
speaking, singing, teasing, taunting
and no matter how we choke it with our handkerchiefit speaks
louder
shouting wildly
teasing us
badly
yes we are watching the burial
of a dead man
we are silent
we have the same wish for one another.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Deathwishes
yes there are three of
us
that makes a company
that day when it is about to rain
but doesn't
we are three
wearing white and i am the bad one
wishing death
for the other one that we do not like
to be with us
but will always be a part of us despite
our deep dislike
it is the truth
that death-wish that is there but we do not like to admit
it is there
speaking, singing, teasing, taunting
and no matter how we silence it with our handkerchief
they all speak
louder
singer wildly
teasing
badly
yes we are watching the burial
of a death that comes true
we are silent
do we have the same mutual wish for each other?
i am sure.
i do not wish to be the bad one forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
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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
Silent Death
Silent death holds my breath
Stalks me from above the trees
There is no breeze
When death walks in my shoes
Silent, cautious, confident
A brilliant business man
Silent death’s cold embrace
Makes me dizzy
He is always busy
But has time for me
Silent death drowns my body
He isn’t sorry
Silent death looks at me
Underneath the water
My eyes dilated
Catch a glimpse
poem by Double A P SS
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To The Funeral
I came home to the funeral,
Liking the battles of weeping,
For the burial had no impulse,
A little man was about to see us.
He altered the scene for times
That altered us as people of death,
The death was supposed to be wrong,
That death altered the pleasure.
May we see black colours
And then white colours of surrender,
The matter was to sympathise with,
Starting to last for a decade.
Let his return be to our eyes,
And let the kitchen come for food;
The whole battle with the deaths
Brought a doctrine of belief.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Looking For A Good Sign
Lyrics & music: daryl hall
For days & days go up & go down
Looking for a sign from you
What you want where you goin
What you thinking about
A lot of good it will do
Why are you fighting me
Why are you teasing me
Why are you wearing me
If youre not at ease with me
Im lookin for a good sign
I know that it might be a waste of my time
Im always lookin for a good sign
Ive gotta keep on tryin
Beware of the curves, always signal your turns
Soft shoulders slow you down, you know
There are signs to explain all conditions on the way
Theres where to stop & which way to go
Why are you fighting me
Why are you teasing me
Why are you wearing me
If youre not at ease with me
Im lookin for a good sign
I know that it might be a waste of my time
Im always lookin for a good sign
Ive gotta keep on tryin
Well its so hard to say if theres a better way
Should we have signed off before
Ive got a lot in my heart
Theres a light in your eyes
Dont you think that there could be some more.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beldame of Death
A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!
I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.
I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.
Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.
A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…
'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '
Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:
'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!
Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '
I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...
On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Dead Against It
And when she drowns
Within and in the fizzy gin, begins to sigh
Good God or my I cry and die and lie beside
She is the apple in my eye
She talked to god
I couldnt cope
Ord hope eloped
A dope she roped
This salty lie
And when shes dreaming, I believe
And when shes reading, I retreat
Cant believe her
Telling me shes dead again
Telling me shes dead against it
And deep my wound
Within for every second chance it was
Thy-tore
From deep within, despite the rain, my words are worn
She loves to talk into the phone
No matter who
No matter when
No matter where
No better than the faulty line
And when shes dreaming, I believe
And when shes reading, I retreat
Cant believe her
Telling me shes dead again
Telling me shes dead against it
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now You Are Perfected
there is always death
coming
death has always
been here with us
it is silent and does not
say anything
it is us
in this delirium fearing him
we talk too much
until we are silenced by
death
and death still is silent
it knows
what the ripe time is
it knows
where it is taking us
it knows
that is why it is silent
it knows pretty well
that soon when we completely know
it, we shall soon agree completely
it is beautiful as it is silent
as silence is beautiful
it is filled with so much wisdom
as wisdom is silent with its beauty
it is the only truth
that we must abide
and after that ordeal of pain and
worries
needlessly the anxiety of the unknown
that is spread under our
feet
we are victorious with it
we passed
as we passed away
we join those who are silenced too
in full wisdom and
beauty
death shall tell you
now you are perfected.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stop Teasing Them
Stop teasing them.
These folks aren't about to end their sins!
Are You kidding?
They need to be taught lessons.
Again and again and again...
Until they get it!
So stop teasing them,
And deliver 'it'!
Why can't You show them,
They have crossed boundaries?
'I love them too much! '
Yeah...
But Father,
Check it out!
Some of Your creations...
Are on the prowl,
To destroy ALL of Your creativity.
On this planet anyway.
'Hmmm...
I can dig it!
I see what you are saying!
What do you recommend I do? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Please Stop Teasing Poppa
I ain't no bed hopper,
But poppa knows what to do,
In the bed.
I may be older but I smoulder,
And I'll rock your pretty head!
Don't you test me!
When I get turned on,
It wont be for long to feel the heat!
I know you're teasing poppa,
But poppa is the one to please your need!
I ain't no bed hopper,
But poppa knows what to do,
In the bed.
I may be older but I smoulder,
And I'll rock your pretty head!
Don't you test me!
When I get turned on,
It wont be for long to feel the heat!
I know you're teasing poppa,
But poppa is the one to please your need!
I know you're teasing poppa,
But please stop teasing poppa...
When he sleeps!
That heated furnace needs a bit of peace!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Celibate
Standing on a cliff
holding the hand of a tall tree
the wind said –
I am going to die in few minutes.
Moon was laughing.
In elements of air and fire
a deity was in burns.
Who had the déjà vu?
Sky was wearing white.
A divine mushroom was going to fail.
A purple wart is growing
along the innocent neck.
The colossal death of hungry strangers
is going to go in waste.
“Being” was truth, but conditioned to lies.
King was wearing an amethyst
watching a marathon.
A single sperm will win
to enter a paradise,
for the sake of a celibate.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Stranger (La Extranjera)
She speaks in her way of her savage seas
With unknown algae and unknown sands;
She prays to a formless, weightless God,
Aged, as if dying.
In our garden now so strange,
She has planted cactus and alien grass.
The desert zephyr fills her with its breath
And she has loved with a fierce, white passion
She never speaks of, for if she were to tell
It would be like the face of unknown stars.
Among us she may live for eighty years,
Yet always as if newly come,
Speaking a tongue that plants and whines
Only by tiny creatures understood.
And she will die here in our midst
One night of utmost suffering,
With only her fate as a pillow,
And death, silent and strang.
poem by Gabriela Mistral
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Walking In The Rain With You
with you
walking in the rain
shall turn to singing
and dancing
and playing with the rain
we get wet
of course, and even off course,
we forget what home is
or what the sun is all about
drops of rain to our lips
like bunch of grapes
or strawberries,
we go jumping and hopping
and the shades under the trees
do not matter anymore
and then i ask, shall we go naked this time
under the rain?
you smile, for now, you are prepared
for freedom, for love, for truth,
for the coldness, and the birth of our spirit,
and the death
of our bodies, how sad, and oh, did i not tell you
that this is so beautiful to
think on a second
thought, hands clasped, then we part, and go our own ways,
the rain stopped, and we grope for deeper thoughts
to the sound of the rushing waters, where to?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Death
Death is
Not a danger...
Death is
Good silince...
Death is
Not a fear...
Death is peace...
Death is
Not for cry...
Death is
Only at happy..
Death is
Not distup for
All... all...
why...!
Death is
Simply with out
Breath...
For others
Not for relatons
And dead body's...
At same time
Death is one of
Birth...
O...soory for sins...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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