To Laugh Or To Weep
When the night was swamping him
with epileptic frame
he was walking without limbs.
The awakening was painful.
Drinking his own blood
breaking his own bones.
This largesse was tempting.
No guaranteed death,
you will live with grenades.
Grief was priceless.
Only nightingale will exercise
for the fallen miracles.
He declared at incendiary pyre
to become a phoenix
which never was.
It was an ethical question
to laugh or to weep.
Man was made unmade.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Who Made The Law ?
Who made the Law that men should die in shadows ?
Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes ?
Who gave it forth that gardens should be bone-yards ?
Who spread the hills with flesh, and blood, and brains ?
Who made the Law ?
Who made the Law that Death should stalk the village ?
Who spake the word to kill among the sheaves,
Who gave it forth that death should lurk in hedgerows,
Who flung the dead among the fallen leaves ?
Who made the Law ?
But who made the Law ? the Trees shall whisper to him:
'See, see the blood - the splashes on our bark !'
Walking the meadows, he shall hear bones crackle,
And fleshless mouths shall gibber in silent lanes at dark.
Who made the Law ? At noon upon the hillside
His ears shall hear a moan, his cheeks shall feel a breath,
And all along the valleys, past gardens, croft, and homesteads,
HE who made the Law,
He who made the Law,
He who made the Law
shall walk along with Death.
WHO made the Law ?
poem by Leslie Coulson
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When The Darkest Darkness Fall Over Me
When the darkest darkness fall over me,
let me still look at the lights around me
and when the night full of darkness comes, let me remember You
let my eyes go to Your beacons, Your stars, see how Your miracles look
and when painful moments feel as if they can last forever,
let me then think about how You sweated blood,
about that dark and painful hour
when in Gethsemane You had to suffer for me, let me then think of it.
When this life of mine comes to an end,
when I stand a as a mere man before Your countenance,
then make me free for everything iniquity in me,
place my life in balance with your blood
and when death comes to take me,
then decide over my lot as Your darling child.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Always Laugh
I asked the flower
you always laugh
why so?
The flower replied,
I dont know how to weep
so, I always laugh
I laugh in hottest sun
I laugh in chilling cold and also
I laugh in valiant storm
I can die, but I can not weep
The answer of flower was surprising
Again I asked
how do you express your grief
the flower laughed loudly
and said
Grief comes to selfish only
we are not selfish
we know only to give
so, grief can not touch us
I appreciated answer of flower.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Inspirational Death
Your death will inspire a thousand more.
The flames of your funeral pyre will ignite those of your fallen comrades.
Your death will inspire a nation to fight for its liberation.
The freed blood will be on your hands.
Your death will inspire the future.
poem by Melanie Fairhurst
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Grief Is Never Having To Say I Grieve
Your grief has been too heavy
I don’t know how much grief buries you down
Please let me weep with you
Please let me weep with you
Like the others, I adore you for keeping up with life
I could imagine how you cry in your thoughts
How like blade, grief cuts your heart, your throat,
the top of your skull - slowly
Like wars in history, there are no exits
and there are no choices
If you were there, you had to face those rattling guns
Plead, please plead
Remember “Our Lady of Sorrows'
Mary carried part of the grief Jesus has
been carrying to save us, during the crucifixion
Mary had no one with her
She was helpless, yet in those moments
God’s strength kept her unmovable and brave
How long does grief stay?
People are not things
How long does grief stay?
If you lost something, you can always build it again
How long does grief stay?
If you lost someone, and someone, and someone
again, in any way – they are part of you
For as long as you live, grief changes into
remembering happy days with each other
Grief becomes faithfulness
Grief changes unto faith
Those drops of blood, while Jesus prayed in the garden
Is grief
Grief is never having to say “I grieve, ”
but “I love, ”
This is how long grief stays.
poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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I Believe In Miracles.
I believe in Miracles - I've seen the risng Sun
I believe in Miracles - I've seen the cheetah run.
I believe in Miracles - I've seen my baby born
I believe in Miracles - I've glimpst the unicorn.
I believe in Miracles - Man walked on the Moon
I believe in Miracles - They're every day in June.
I believe in Miracles - I've seen a junkie cured
I believe in Miracles - A winos been restored
I believe in Miracles - My firends survive car crashes
I believe in Miracles - When England won the ashes!
I believe in Miracles - We trashed the Berlin Wall
I believe in Miracles - We stood and watched it fall.
I believe in Miracles - The harvest grain is stored
I believe in Miracles - When David Beckham scored!
I believe in Miracles - In every path I've trod
I believe in Miracles - 'Cos I believe in GOD!
poem by John Knight
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I Dreamed My Genesis
I dreamed my genesis in sweat of sleep, breaking
Through the rotating shell, strong
As motor muscle on the drill, driving
Through vision and the girdered nerve.
From limbs that had the measure of the worm, shuffled
Off from the creasing flesh, filed
Through all the irons in the grass, metal
Of suns in the man-melting night.
Heir to the scalding veins that hold love's drop, costly
A creature in my bones I
Rounded my globe of heritage, journey
In bottom gear through night-geared man.
I dreamed my genesis and died again, shrapnel
Rammed in the marching heart, hole
In the stitched wound and clotted wind, muzzled
Death on the mouth that ate the gas.
Sharp in my second death I marked the hills, harvest
Of hemlock and the blades, rust
My blood upon the tempered dead, forcing
My second struggling from the grass.
And power was contagious in my birth, second
Rise of the skeleton and
Rerobing of the naked ghost. Manhood
Spat up from the resuffered pain.
I dreamed my genesis in sweat of death, fallen
Twice in the feeding sea, grown
Stale of Adam's brine until, vision
Of new man strength, I seek the sun.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Hungry
Be my sleep, I tell a dream.
A lantern was chasing the shadows
on wall. My fever?
I say, past one awakening
I will sleep eternally.
The age licks the grief of fallen
pride. I was still walking on
sharp stones, bleeding inside.
Howling,
here I come from the caves.
A whole truth becomes unholy
when mixed with crackers and has
a loud noise. Let the river of life
flow in breast in night of hunger
without a provider.
poem by Satish Verma
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The perfect suicide
Death is cold
Death is above
But sometimes
Death is love.
Blood glistens
Like the morning dew
Blood comes out
Because of you.
Razors shine
In the pure white light,
Razors sharp
Perfect for flight.
Fallen Angel cuts
Fallen Angel bleeds
She stands alone
He's all she needs.
Fallen Angel screams
Fallen Angel cries
She can fly no more
So instead, she dies.
poem by Kelsey Joe
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Breaking The Law
There I was completely wasting, out of work and down
All inside its so frustrating as I drift from town to town
Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die
So I might as well begin to put some action in my life
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
So much for the golden future, I cant even start
Ive had every promise broken, theres anger in my heart
You dont know what its like, you dont have a clue
If you did youd find yourselves doing the same thing too
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
You dont know what its like
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Three Maidens
There were three maidens met on the highway;
The sun was down, the night was late:
And two sang loud with the birds of May,
O the nightingale is merry with its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Why walk you there so still?
The land is dark, the night is late:
O, but the heart in my side is ill,
And the nightingale will languish for its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Of lovers there is store;
The moon mounts up, the night is late:
O, I shall look on man no more,
And the nightingale is dumb without its mate.
Said they to the youngest, Uncross your arms and sing;
The moon mounts high, the night is late:
O my dear lover can hear no thing,
And the nightingale sings only to its mate.
They slew him in revenge, and his true-love was his lure;
The moon is pale, the night is late:
His grave is shallow on the moor;
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.
His blood is on his breast, and the moss-roots at his hair;
The moon is chill, the night is late:
But I will lie beside him there:
O the nightingale is dying for its mate.
poem by George Meredith
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She Understands Me
it is all blood and breaking,
blood and breaking, the thing
drops out of its box squalling
into the light. they are both squalling,
animal and cage. her bars lie wet, open
and empty and she has made herself again
out of flesh out of dictionaries,
she is always emptying and it is all
the same wound the same blood the same breaking.
poem by Lucille Clifton
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One More Day, One More Night
One more night, God Ive had to fight
To keep my line of sight on whats real
One more day I fear Ive lost my way
I dont know how to say what I feel
Someone better hurry Im all alone
And I keep breaking down
Breaking down, you know?
No one ever taught me to be on my own
And I keep breaking down
Breaking down, you know?
One more night my eyes reflect the light
In the distance something bright appears
One more day its too hard to explain
What goes on in my brain is not clear
Someone better hurry Im all alone
And I keep breaking down
Breaking down, you know?
No one ever taught me to be on my own
Yeah and I keep breaking down
Breaking down, you know?
So hold on one more night
Hold out one more day
Hold on one more night
Hold out one more day
Therell be one more night and things will be made right
Again Ill hold you tight my dear
One more day and Ill collect my pay
And soon be far away from here
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wishing-Caps
Life's all getting and giving,
I've only myself to give.
What shall I do for a living?
I've only one life to live.
End it? I'll not find another.
Spend it? But how shall I best?
Sure the wise plan is to live like a man
And Luck may look after the rest!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
Give or hold at your will.
If I've no care for Fortune,
Fortune must follow me still.
Bad Luck, she is never a lady
But the commonest wench on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,
Shameless to pass or meet.
Walk with her once--it's a weakness!
Talk to her twice. It's a crime!
Thrust her away when she gives you "good day"
And the besom won't board you next time.
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
What is Your Ladyship's mood?
If I have no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!
Good Luck she is never a lady
But the cursedest quean alive!
Tricksy, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive.
Greet her--she's hailing a stranger!
Meet her--she's busking to leave.
Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
I'll neither follow nor flee.
If I don't run after Fortune,
Fortune must run after me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Ungoing
Incredible moon
tips the hallucinating tree.
Lake propels the waves to limbs
and strips to bank.
I wear my lightning
and enter into a process
outside body. The night
betrays and goes back to sun.
There is a frame of truth to be claimed
in a black sac, who slashed
his neck for the deity
of widening freedom.
Turn right, where the trembling
nation stands to pick up the fallen heroes.
I am going to write an epitaph
with my blood on the wind chimes.
poem by Satish Verma
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Because of my Marxism, I was not into myths or miracles, whether it was the virgin birth, the physical resurrection or casting out demons from an epileptic.
quote by Lionel Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Der mann im keller
How cool and fair this cellar where
My throne a dusky cask is;
To do no thing but just to sing
And drown the time my task is.
The cooper he's
Resolved to please,
And, answering to my winking,
He fills me up
Cup after cup
For drinking, drinking, drinking.
Begrudge me not
This cosy spot
In which I am reclining--
Why, who would burst
With envious thirst,
When he can live by wining.
A roseate hue seems to imbue
The world on which I'm blinking;
My fellow-men--I love them when
I'm drinking, drinking, drinking.
And yet I think, the more I drink,
It's more and more I pine for--
Oh, such as I (forever dry)
God made this land of Rhine for;
And there is bliss
In knowing this,
As to the floor I'm sinking:
I've wronged no man
And never can
While drinking, drinking, drinking.
poem by Eugene Field
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Yet Another Wound
I had died and gone to heaven,
And then fallen from grace.
Death had changed my life forever.
It sure has several shades,
But none of those we're wont to.
What is death but for its manifestations,
Wailing, contorted face muscles and eerie silences?
Death is but another cut on the bloodied body,
No more painful no more powerful.
Only you don’t live to take another.
Men have feared death since Adam died;
They paralyze at the thought of death.
Does death deserve life as its cost?
Can death wipe out life's best?
Is it not an event equalling birth?
Lightly, welcome the relief from evils it brings.
poem by Saju Abraham
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