Rebirths
Once dead, the album of memory is dead.
A rebirth given cannot resurrect it.
Without memory carried over
The next birth cannot be a rebirth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Death is sleep
The night does not weep
That it is about to die
When the Sun is about to rise,
Unaware of its rebirth though.
In my case I weep
That I am about to die
When the time comes
Despite the faith in rebirth.
Death is a long sleep.
Sleep is a short death.
Memory lives after the sleep
Memory dies after the death
01.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Oh, who is afraid of life
Oh, who is afraid of life
The passion the sorrow and the strife?
In front of my window the multitudes are asleep
Sheltered so easily in their beds
Happy in their sleep as if they were dead
Yet I am alone and not dead
I wish not to lie in bed
Dead, dead, dead
Dead without any company
Here alone on my bed
with all these gracious thoughts about the world
These thoughts are fed by the sun
O life there is about you
This deep sense of sweet being
I would not have been without you here
Yet, you without me would have been the same
So let me stay, and stay more with you
Sweetness, joy, breath and rebirth
Keep away the death
copy rights 2010
Don't Cry
Why do you cry? He has risen.
Why are you weeping? He's not dead.
Why do you cry? he has risen.
Why are you weeping? He's not dead.
He paid it all on that lonely highway(hayyyy). And his anointing I can feel. He shed his blood (ohh ohh ohh). For my
transgressions (ohh ohh ohh). And by his stripes we are healed.
Why do you cry? He has risen.
Why are you weeping? He's not dead.
So as you go through lifes journey(neeeee). Don't you worry lift up your head. Don't you cry (ohh ohh ohh) stop your weeping
(ohh ohh ohh) He has risen He's not dead.
[Chorus]
Don't cry
wipe your eyes
He's not dead.
(ohh ohh ohh ohh)
Don't weep
He's not asleep
Je-hovah
He's not dead
(ohh ohh ohh ohh)
Don't cry
wipe your eyes
He's not dead
[with modulation repeat 4x's]
song performed by by Kirk Franklin from The Rebirth Of Kirk Franklin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Dead Memory
Your memory no longer lingers through my life.
You were there once and now your gone.
Your memory has died like a rose when it is cut from the rest of the world.
Your torns no longer cut my heart.
My voice no longer whispers you name,
I no longer look for you in other people in other faces.
I no longer dream of you or wish that I see you once again.
My heart no longer cries or bleeds for you, not no more.
You no longer haunt my dreams or my memories.
I finally found someone that keeps me warm at night,
I finally found someone who has helped me erase your memory.
I no longer fall and stumble but I now walk tall.
Your memory was a weight that I carried through out time
that now I am free.
I can say that I no longer love you, for you are a dead memory
poem by Elizabeth Gaytan
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Come As You Are (LP Version)
Come As You Are"
Come, as you are. As you were.
As I want you to be. As a friend.
As a friend. As an old enemy. Take your time.
Hurry up. The choice is yours. Don't be late.
Take a rest. As a friend. As a old memory, memory, memory, memory.
Come. Dowsed in mud. Soaked in bleach.
As I want you to be. As a trend. As a friend.
As an old memory, memory, memory, memory.
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
Memory, memory, memory, memory (don't have a gun).
And I swear that I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun.
No I don't have a gun. No I don't have a gun. Memory, memory...
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Rebirth - Cross Century Surgery Operation
voila! if rebirth is a fact and
time travel is mastered
you can always request
at the cross century
surgery theatre, your first human birth
eyes, second birth eyebrows
fifth birth nose, cheeks,
eighth birth shoulder blade, and
the fusion of fifth and eight birth sexes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Memory In Heart
memory in heart
will never be gone
how strong
they tried
to erase
how deep
they tried
to pull
memory in love
will never be vanished
how hard
you tried
to throw
how bad
you tried
to cover
memory in life
will never be dead
how crazy
we tried
to reject
how long
we tried
to break
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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You don't even exist...
Sharpen up your blunt canines
Summon up the lost souls
Call your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance
Lo! under the veil of lion-skin
there stands some beast
some beast of burden...
Serve your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance
Silence is the best answer
And you had some questions
You answered them quite well
Backstabbing is not the silence
Find your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance
You fear the wind; i'm the wind
You breathe in me, spit on me
But you couldn't catch me
And i've caught you red-handed
Kneel to your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance
My pride's my life, you attack it
You aint've pride, you're proud
Torment your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance
To me, you're zero existance
nor your gods bother me
You know the pain, you know it
To inflict pain, you need rebirth
Sing your elegy, write your wish
resurrect your dead soul
Resurrect your gods to tackle me
'cause you have no existance...
26-03-2006
poem by Usman Hanif
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Sin and Prayer
I am pulling out from the committed
sin, cadaver walking,
digging the gold from the pit.
Footwears of dead men were
heaped into a pile when
god was praying.
Was it a perceived tragedy
of a man drawing doodles
to offset the sunset?
You were alone, dousing
the fire and shaping the clay. The
hamlet was less inclined to intercede.
Your flesh slips from my hands
for a rebirth. I was flying a kite.
I was dead before you were born again.
poem by Satish Verma
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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Fighting Death
Death follows birth; does birth follow birth?
Birth to death, journeys have ups and down.
What is the status between death and birth?
Why must you fight death if no-rebirth is bliss?
(15.03.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Three Spheres IV
Birth,
Rebirth, and
Metamorphose.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Birth and rebirth
Birth and rebirth
is nothing but poles apart,
without one, the other is dead.
The growing moon
peeps from beyond the night sky
slowly enhancing itself in gradual appearance,
A birth is about to take place
soon.
A full moon.
The waning moon
hides itself beneath the night sky
slowly enhancing itself in gradual disappearance,
A death is about to take place
soon.
A dark moon.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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Among The Tombs
She is a lady fair and wise,
Her heart her counsel keeps,
And well she knows of time that flies
And tide that onward sweeps;
But still she sits with restless eyes
Where Memory sleeps---
Where Memory sleeps.
Ye that have heard the whispering dead
In every wind that creeps,
Or felt the stir that strains the lead
Beneath the mounded heaps,
Tread softly, ah! more softly tread
Where Memory sleeps---
Where Memory sleeps.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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Never Can Forget That Memory
Deep in the darkest
Part of my head
There is a memory
Of how I saw you dead
It sits there
Alone
In the shadows of depth
A memory of you
That I have kept
It wants to come out
Of this dark scary place
But it is a memory
I could never erase
It sits there
Alone through day and night
listening to everything
I hear
And say
I want it to leave
And never come back
To leave me alone
The feeling if sadness
To go away
So that I can
Once again
See
The light of day
poem by Broken Hearts
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Empty becouse of her
As I open my eyes and I cry,
Im all alone in my quit room,
My words are a whisper from the past,
My arms are empty because of her,
Everyone can kiss my but,
My heart is empty and now im starting to feel the tears form upon my cheeks I still wait upon the dead,
So that I can have her kisses,
I wait for her return home so that im no alone,
But 1 thing is that it’s hard loving a memory,
Loving a memory is allot easier than hating a memory,
I live my cousin’s memory with all my heart,
Everyone should know she is why my life has start,
She was and still is a very important girl at least she is in my world
poem by Gary Hicinbothem
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From The Ashes Of Your Phoenix
AS i wait for you
i have become an insomniac
for so many
trivial
justifications
for instance
writing so many poems
that alienate myself
from the world
i have been keeping hope against hope
that someday the dead shall rise from their graves
that love shall have a rebirth
from the ashes
of your phoenix
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The dead can dance
The dead can dance
Easier than one can
Resurrect a dead romance
Or understand the existence of man.
poem by Jamie Collins
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