The Slanders!
Unburnt remains
Of our hearts
In funeral pyres-
- -The slanders!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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The Funeral Of Hearts
Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the sun
Shining upon
The tomb of your hopes and dreams so frail
He was the moon
Painting you
With it's glow so vulnerable and pale
Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the wind, carrying in
All the troubles and fears you for years tried to forget
He was the fire, restless and wild
And you were like a moth to that flame
The heretic seal beyond divine
a prayer to a god who's deaf and blind
The last rites for souls on fire
Three little words and a question -why?
Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Funeral Of Hearts
Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the sun
Shining upon
The tomb of your hopes and dreams so frail
He was the moon
Painting you
With its glow so vulnerable and pale
Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
She was the wind, carrying in
All the troubles and fears here for years tried to forget
He was the fire, restless and wild
And you were like a moth to that flame
The heretic seal beyond divine
Pray to God whos deaf and blind
The last nights the souls on fire
Three little words and a question why
Loves the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Discovery
I wandered to a crude coast
Like a ghost;
Upon the hills I saw fires -
Funeral pyres
Seemingly - and heard breaking
Waves like distant cannonades that set the land shaking.
And so I never once guessed
A Love-nest,
Bowered and candle-lit, lay
In my way,
Till I found a hid hollow,
Where I burst on her my heart could not but follow.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Marriages
Marriage of two minds
Unites two ideas.
Both agree and disagree,
Yet each remains itself.
Marriage of two souls
Unites two spirits.
They dance, separate, and intertwine,
Yet each remains unique.
Marriage of two people
Unites two bodies.
They touch and are touched,
Yet each remains separate.
Marriage of two hearts
Unites two bloods.
They fill and are filled,
Give and are given to.
But when two people love,
The two hearts are shared,
And they are never the same!
The two hearts become:
One.
poem by Jennifer Katz
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Dance Freedom In Every Heartbeat
if we cannot dance
with love and freedom
in our hearts for all
then we cannot hear
the rhythm of love
written into all beauty
that remains
in our heart
beat world
that remains
in beautiful
gentle souls
that remains
in gift love
softly sung
that remains in God’s
original gift vision
for created humanity
all souls
dancing to sacred
rhythm life
are previous
unique hearts
bliss wonder
all dancers
smile laugh
breathe love
Inspired by the poem ‘Heartbeat’ by Unwritten Soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Funeral Of Hearts
she was the sun shinning upon he tumb of your hopes and dreams so frail...
he was the moon painting you with its glow so vulnerable and pale...
love's the funeral of hearts nad an ode for cruelty
when angels cry blood on flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts and a plea for mercy
when love is a gun separating me from you
she was the wind carrying in all the troubles and fears he for years tried to forget...
he was the fire ,restless and wild and you were like a moth to that flame
the heretic seal beyond divine,a pray to a god who's deaf and blind
the last rites for souls on fire,three little words and a question why
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loves In Our Hearts On Christmas Day
I know great distance still remains..
Between us
But theres good reason to hold on
Its the happiest time of the year
Filled with laughter and good cheer
As you watch the snow
Sweet love youll hear me say
Youve got my heart on christmas
Inside my soul your love remains
Loves in our hearts
On christmas day
The days and weeks and months go by
So slowly
We are both wishing them to fly (*wishing in the fly*)
As the night begins to fall
Twilight crowns the bedroom cheer (*drowns in mellow cheer*)
Such a rush of joy
Your love, it comforts me
And I do believe
Loves in our hearts on christmas
Though far apart
As one we pray
Loves in our hearts
On christmas day
Snowflake melts in your eye and turns to tear
But you cheek it stays dry
With your warm smile so near
I have no fear
Were gonna make it
Loves in our hearts on christmas
Though far apart
As one we pray
Loves in our hearts (love is in our hearts)
On christmas day...
song performed by by N Sync
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funeral Becomes a Must
Funeral of the Mind
becomes must though should not
Aggregation-and-Aggravation
be in halt.
Funeral of the Heart
becomes must though should not
Affliction-and-Abjection
be in halt.
Funeral becomes a Must!
poem by Roseville Nidea
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Poets set their hearts on fire
As a conflagration ever travels to find fuel,
And though the first fire starter could be thought of as a fool;
I would gladly step upon your hearts own smoking funeral-pyre,
For it is common knowledge, poets set their hearts on fire.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Shedding a little light on the past for M 'lady Ernestine
A candle in a paper boat
Placed on the water carefully
Then lit before its set afloat
Recalls a racial memory.
Of funeral pyres in days of old
Of longships burning in the night.
The records that our memories hold.
Transformed by the candle light
on paper boats we set adrift.
It’s just a little game to us
But memories can slowly lift
the veil that’s separating us.
Two worlds existing side by side.
Long may these memories abide.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Never Mourn At My Funeral
Never mourn at my funeral
Because i'm not dead but sleeping
And relaxing on Abraham's bossom
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in view to mourning
But within you, you're here to mock
Because my poetry has once expose your secret-deeds
Throw my body where you please
Or let it be dismembered
Never mourn at my funeral
You the insect that bites my daffodils
And you who want my fish to swim on a dry earth
Throw me on a stormy sea
Where Jonah fell
But its a glorious shame
I can never sight the river bank of Joppa
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in my maker's name
Just to bless my end
Go thy way and search for lust souls
Wear them a garment pure as snow
Before they lie low with me
And journey hell eternal
Never mourn at my funeral
But mourn for we're debtors of death
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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The flame has softer fingers
The flame has softer fingers,
Than petals from a flower,
And it's memory is less
For every hour that it burns,
And the flower isn't jealous,
Of whomever enjoys it's beauty;
While the fire consumes most anything,
And none of it is spurned.
But flowers know almost nothing,
Of how a flame gets started;
And a fire knows even less
Of how a flower grew
Still, they have a slight respect,
In regarding, each the other;
As if each had certain knowledge
Flames and flowers are too few.
So there's a lesson for us,
If we care to pay attention
To living forests forming
Their own funeral pyres:
As the flame hates not rare beauty.
And the flower's not faint-hearted;
If you've never yet been burned:
You don't have to fear the fire.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Funeral
So tonight I will toast at your funeral.
Because we knew this wouldn’t end well.
Lately I’ve began to look and see.
That we are lost in our own history.
Times will change and lives will spend
Harvests will come and wounds shall mend
Hearts will blaze with the past no more,
We’ll seek the future, but it wont come
I ask for peace yet receive none,
And now the present has come undone
Now time has shown itself to be a demon that’s cursed
And yet we know that we still haven’t seen the worst.
I walked along and couldn’t tell
That my sorrow dies with every word.
Truthfully is say no more, and with a smile I toast….at your funeral.
poem by Johann Weiss
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Sonnet: The Volcanic Eruption
Mount Etna is alive, awake once more;
It spews forth red-hot lava by the tonnes;
Hell has broken loose again, in its core;
The neighbourhood is praying hard for once!
The lava flows over the mountain-side;
And destroys flora, fauna by its flood;
And countless are the beasts that may have died;
In forest-fires and the blazing mud!
The air is smoke and dust-laden and hot;
It settles on the tenements, landscape;
Alas! From havoc Mother Nature wrought,
People barely manage to just escape!
But why does Nature snort Dragon-like fires,
That light a million mega-funeral pyres?
poem by John Celes
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There Is A Choice
there is this void
that i think, remains to be
a void forever
no matter how you
fill it up it remains
a void, a chasm and
you feel like falling
forever on a bottom
that seeminly is not
there at all
there is also this joy
that remains to be a joy forever
inside our hearts and it rises
and rises forever
you feel like flying up forever
and there is no roof
of cloud or sky
there you are
at the middle
of these two contrasts
look up and look down
you choose
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Weasel words with easy starts are not the first ones to our hearts
Weasel words
with easy starts
are not the first
ones to our hearts
when the cold cadaver light of day
takes one of those we love away
After the funeral
- when the funeral was over
- After we had buried him
We walked across the grass
We walked across the grass
leaving footprints in the dew
footprints in the dew
How was that possible
’God’s name how was that possible
with him forever
And now, forever
footprints forever
looking back across the grass
The warmth of the day
losing us all, forever
poem by Sean Joyce
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Unity Of The Elements
It was a pompous show,
For everyone should know,
The funeral procession
Of a rich man of the town.
Inch by Inch, the funeral cart moved.
Step by step, the mourners walked.
In black costumes, each one was dressed.
Front and back, march passed the crowd.
At the gate of the burning ghat,
The procession came to a halt.
Each one spoke, in praise of the dead
And tears flowed, for what they said.
On the sandalwood bed,
The body was laid,
And his son lit the fire,
That engulfed the funeral pyre.
The dead man's remains,
In the form of ash and bones,
To the sea, were consigned
As a finish, at the end.
At the bottom of the seabed
The bone of a poor man dead
Addressed his bone and said
'Welcome to this silent seabed.'
'The difference, when we were alive
Is no more with us, now let us live,
Not as poor or rich, but as one element,
No hatred feelings to foment.'
From the elements, man comes,
And back to the elements, he goes.
In between arises a low-high status,
That brings a world of differences.
poem by Rajaram Ramachandran
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He who reminds you or corrects you is better than he who slanders you.
He who slanders his neighbour makes a rod for himself.