The Platter
You know, death doesn’t exist, he said to her.
I know, yes, now that I’m dead, she answered.
Your two shirts are ironed, in the drawer.
The only thing I’m missing is the platter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A White Rose
you tell her, death does not exist, and she says, she knows,
she had been dead, if only you cared enough to know. she will answer,
your handkerchiefs are all ironed, and they are all kept
well folded in the drawer.
she says she misses something.
just a white rose.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Husband And The Wife
he said to her death does not exist
for i am dead, and she retorted, yes
that is a fact now, you have become my
own ghost, how terrible have you become
two black pants are ironed and place neatly
in the cabinet, and there is one thing that he missed:
a note saying, i love you still, i miss you very much.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ant
A sixty feet long ant
With a hat on its head,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
An ant pulling a cart
Full of penguins and ducks
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
An ant speaking French,
Speaking Latin and Javanese,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
Hey! Why not?
poem by Robert Desnos from Storysongs (Chantefables) (1945), translated by Dan CostinaÅŸ
Submitted by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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Death doesn't affect the living because it has not happened yet. Death doesn't concern the dead because they have ceased to exist.
quote by W. Somerset Maugham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Literature is about as unnecessarily necessarily as tableware or ironed shirts.
quote by Peter Bichsel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CII: little thing
Little thing sometimes forgotten, but it doesn’t mean it’s not important
Little thing sometimes neglected, but it doesn’t mean it’s not affecting
Little thing sometimes missed, but it doesn’t mean it’s not a threat
Little thing sometimes underestimated, but it doesn’t mean it’s not treating
Little thing sometimes ignored, but it doesn’t mean it’s disappeared
Little thing sometimes trifling, but it doesn’t mean it’s not needed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Answered My Add
The love I dwell on
Doesn't exist
And probably never will
You answered my add..
I guess rent was to much for you...
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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Change Of Weather
September came along
and brought with it
a change of weather.
The humid days
were suddenly cold and windy.
A few, very nice, cool, fall days,
managed to slip in,
even though it wasn’t quite fall yet.
So, as I do every September,
I emptied out my closet of
t-shirts, and short sleeved shirts.
With all that room in there
I decided to fill it with my winter shirts,
even though I didn’t need them, just yet.
And don’t you know,
I got caught again?
No sooner did I get the summer shirts away
and the winter ones out -
what happens?
There’s a change of weather.
The warmer days kicked in again.
I sure can use those t-shirts now.
But, I’ve got them packed away,
and away they’ll stay.
This is the time of year
when the weather doesn’t know
if it wants to be warm, cool or cold.
Well, I can always roll up the sleeves
on the long sleeved shirts, should I need to.
With changes of weather
as it is these days,
I’d rather play it safe.
Youre Missing
Shirts in the closet, shoes in the hall
Mamas in the kitchen, baby and all
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But youre missing
Coffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chair
Papers on the doorstep, but youre not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But youre missing
Pictures on the nightstand, tvs on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But youre missing, when I shut out the lights
Youre missing, when I close my eyes
Youre missing, when I see the sun rise
Youre missing
Children are asking if its alright
Will you be in our arms tonight?
Morning is morning, the evening falls I got
Too much room in my bed, to many phone calls
Hows everything, everything?
Everything, everything
Youre missing, youre missing
Gods drifting in heaven, devils in the mailbox
I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Top Shirts Are Ironed In A Big Shot Style
Top shirts are ironed in a big shot style
Disinfected fingers disinfected smile
Hand in hand polished policies acquire
Cliff cut hairs when the straights are dire
Tuxedo models in top toxic fashions
Red catwalk marches upon the blood
Is it possible to fulfill the passions
Of mud stained shoes diving in the mud?
‘Politics- they never pose naked’
Sure Vishnya true they always fake it.
Regardless of country tzardom or empire
It’s always the same blood sucking vampire
Old tzars hanging in emperor’s new clothes
Germany, Russia, America…or new
Nutsi Nazi, Comrade Parade, Yankee Hankies… or who
Old aristocracy playing democracy
Playing on the earth playing on the moon
The vampire games of a tycoon
Sometimes they take a court poet or two
To set up the stage for me and you
All we can before they track us down
Is play fool stepping on their crown
Top shirts are ironed in a big shot style
Disinfected fingers disinfected smile
Hand in hand bitter political satire
Is all that’s left when the straights are dire
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You Can't Make What Doesn't Work
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
I want to say that,
You can't make what doesn't work...
For me exist.
When my happiness,
Doesn't depend on it.
I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I stood...
Up on my own two feet.
No you can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If with a faith I took risks,
And decided that my own life I would live.
I have my own beliefs,
That satisifies my every need.
The memories that I keep,
Reminds me how I got to stand up..
On my own two feet.
Oh...
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is a waste of effort.
So, if it doesn't work for you,
Why do you wish to prove...
What it is that I do,
Is to me a disservice.
You can't make what doesn't work,
For me exist.
If it is clear to me,
My life's just fine without it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innocent`s Farewell
innocent`s farewell
i`m not dead
you will see me again for so much you loved me
let your innermost peace
i`m going to the world of poetry
where i will be eating poetry, drinking poetry
hate me no more now allow my soul to rest in peace in the world of poetry.
i`m not dead
i`m going to the world of poetry
where love dont exist but only wisdom
where there is no weapon but just pen and paper
where hunger and anger don`t exist but only joy.
i`m not dead
thy shall not cry for that is the waste of tears
i feel no pain anymore but only joy
i have no problems anymore but only progress
i`m not coming backto life
for where i`m death does not exist
i`m not dead but i`m living in the world of poetry
i`m with poets
we don`t get bored we are always writing poems.
poem by Innocent Mkhwanazi
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It doesn't really exist; it's just basically lots of different stages between the two pieces, and you end up with, like, a third shape that doesn't exist but is suggested to you by the image.
quote by Sean Booth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bed Stand Drawer
Bed stand drawer
Drug paraphernalia
Lighter. Pack of
expired
condoms
Sad remain
Aspirin. Memories
of better days
On top
bed stand drawer
ticket
reads:
Destination
13° 45' North
100° 31' East
5352.66 Miles
and new
bed stand drawer
chances
of life
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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I Like The Way
Somewhere inside my evolution
Karmically I seek retribution
Looking for love in physical beauty
Desire is the drug of the bourgeoisie
And now I try to intellectualize
Like a glimmer of good in a bad man's eyes
I am consumed by the flesh haunting me
I know temptation taunts the empty
So pour yourself over me
Until there's nothing left to see, yeah yeah
Because I like the way you move in the dark
I like the tension, the tension and the spark
The decadence of giving into desire
Creates such entropy within
Looking for love in spiritual faces
Blind to the art of fabrication
I'm like a baby sucking mama's milk
Want to drink my fill and then some
Leave me alone
I always thought I was better than this
But temptation tempts the temptee
Pour yourself over me
Until there's nothing left to see, yeah yeah
Oh, because I like the way you move in the dark
And I like the tension, the tension and the spark, oh
Because I like the way you move in the dark, oh
You know I like the tension, the tension and, the tension and the spark, oh
This physicality
Shifting me chemically
Such power over me
It's just desire
I know it's treachery (shifting me chemically)
I know it's just skin deep (such power over me)
I know I should resist
I'm just too tired
Too tired
There's just one thing missing
One thing missing here is
Love
I like the way you move in the dark
I like the tension, the tension and the spark (so pour yourself over me)
You know, I like the way you move in the dark (so pour yourself over me)
You know, I like the tension, the tension and, the tension and the spark
So pour yourself over me
(There's just one thing missing)
(One thing missing)
Until there's nothing left to see
(There's just one thing missing)
(The tension and the spark)
(One thing missing)
(So pour yourself over me)
There's just one thing missing
One thing missing
(So pour yourself over me)
(I like the tension, the tension and the spark)
(There's just one thing missing)
One thing missing here is...
Love
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone!
oh you know how it is
wake up feeling blue
and everything that could be wrong is
including you
black clouds and rain and pain in your head
and all you want to do is stay in bed
buf if you do that you'll be missing the world
because it doesn't stop turning whatever you heard
if you do that you'll be missing the world
you have to get up get out and get gone!
yeah you know how it is
wake up feeling green
sick as a dog and six times as mean
you don't want to sing you don't want to play
you don't want to swing you don't want to sway
all you want to do is nothing
on a day like today
but if you do that you 'll be missing the world
because it doesn't stop turning whatever you heard
if you do that you'll be missing the world
you have to get up get out and get gone!
yeah get up get out and get some fun
you have to get up get out and get gone!
yeah get up get out and get gone!
get up get out and get gone!
you have to get up get out and get living
yeah this is really it...
so you know how it is
wake up feeling grey
nothing much to think and nothing much to say
don't want to talk don't want to try
don't want to think don't want to know
who what where when or why...
oh but you do that and you're missing the world
yeah it's happening right now whatever you heard
you do that and you're missing the world
you have to get up get out and get gone!
yeah get up get out and have some fun
you have to get up get out and get gone!
yeah get up get out and get it on
get up get out and get gone!
you have to get up get out and get living
yeah this is really it!
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Silver Platter
the silver platter is what your family gives you
your father makes it and you mother polishes it
and you are given what you need
in your life
some fruits and bread and meat and water
that you need in your journey when they start sending you away and
when they finally leave you
as what this world demands, the usual flow of life and the fading
death, and you find yourself still
thinking and coping and running and stopping and resting and running and walking and curling and stretching what
is all there,
then everything is consumed, the silver platter has nothing, tarnished
and you begin to worry
what used to be is not anymore,
you think life ends just like that,
no
reality bites now, like a snake, or a rabid dog, and you despise the
silver platter
its lasting effect on you, how it made you weak and unthinking,
complacent
and unable to grow your trees and eat the fruits
to raise your goats and eat their meat
to live your own life
and be strong yourself in the darkness that comes
when you still want to play
it is not too late, take the silver platter and throw it away
or bury it
lest another one comes and takes it and be another victim
of its temporary glow that almost killed you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jerusalem's Cry
Can you hear Jerusalem's cry
Can you see the storm on the rise
Look around you can;t deny
This is the hour of heaven's time
Armies gather in the East
For the war that's soon to come
Death will march with the mark of the beast
So seek the Light and walk with the Son
Soon we'll see His wrath come down
And the Lord descending from the sky
When you hear the trumpets sound
God has answered Jerusalem's cry
When the sun goes black
And the moon blood red
And the stars fall from the sky
The Word of God in the Bible says
We're living in the end times
Soon we'll see His wrath come down
And the Lord descending from the sky
When you hear the trumpets sound
God has answered Jerusalem's cry
Soon the dead in Christ will rise
And join Him in he sky
Even unbelivers will see
God has answered Jerusalem's cry
God has answered Jerusalem's cry
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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