Aircraft Crash: Smashing Finale
in these strange last doomed moments
tubular steel aluminium plummeting
mind may race falling through cloud years
minutes to live out life lived decades
seconds split frozen in turbulence ruptured
time in frozen feed years eclipsed on impact
people get to die among absolute strangers
impacting ending all random seated lives...
together doomed, to death’s last dark, deadly moments
in death, you people may all die fright, screaming together
but you people, resurrected will not be raised, up together
plummeting descending, cut off moments, terminated together
a final fire ball, impact ending all tomb, bound together
but eternity, branches out into individual, extreme contrast
final fate, was never ticket shared compact, eternities differ
for some, a hellish beginning for others, glorious resurrection...
do not believe the lie that in death all lie equal
angels fell impacting earth doomed eternity
seed of Adam Eve some rise supplanting angels
souls created in God’s image share heavenly sphere
horror inevitable death inescapable ending for all
horror seconds plummeting prepare ready or not
horror account settled tallied charge death absolute
not ready to meet your maker fear judgement coming...?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Cyclical
Death
The burial
Doom, gloom, ending
A hatred to God
For a treasured lives sending
A friendship lost in its beginning
The passion for life stops without warning
A darkness engulfs the heart, mind and soul
The death is so final in earth's archaic role
The greatness remembered is multiplied ten to fifty fold
They remain watching, helping, and directing you home
Friendship, compassion, a loving hand to hold
There by your side, times untold
The death is earth's ending
But an eternal beginning
For a friendship
Never ending
Beginning.
poem by Jeff Rushton
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Death By My Own Hands
Doomed to a life of misadventure
Every day one step closer to my fate
At last I can see the ending
The road though long
Has come to a glorious end
Beginning a new kind of life
Yielding to unknown densities
Many men have are fatly overwhelmed to this fate
Yearning for the awakening of forever
Only the knowledge of the unknown is dark
When sight of the present is blinded by falseness
Never again can I allow this to happen
Harnessed within me is the power of life
And within that power comes a choice
Never ending cycles of madness surround my mind
Death and resurrection all at once
Silence has surrounded me with forever
poem by Brandy Elger
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Death Dies Again
It was death himself
at my swords tip
shocked at his predicament
unaccustomed as he was
to insouciance
and unfamiliar he was
with his own impending ending.
How do you tell Death that
his own death comes?
He said.
'How am I to meet
alls end this way
when I am the very symbol
of the terminus;
the end for all and the other many? '
'Tell me how I am come to this end;
the irony of my own dead death
now near? '
'Death must die' I said
as life itself begins'
'Its not so mysterious Death
to understand.
You are not the end but
my own beginning
and I am life's insistence at the beginning;
that coming to the fore
youth moving to sure
and steady borning.
'That is the cycle of all things, '
I said.
'You die death;
not a sad departing
but my own new beginning.
'How sad' Death said
'I understand your glib reckoning
but my death to me is personal
and while the Great Cycle
to you is mesmerizing
for me it is my fully sensed ending.
Endings are personal and while
loves I've known
have found new loves
it has not
and did not
obliterate
old love's ending.
And that is I.
Old loves die
and their death
is not erased
by new love's
beginning;
they fade
away amid the sad
sighings
we hear at night
when alone
in our beds
in the dark
crying.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The poem and her poet
Death once told poor life defeated by life:
Life's no life if lived on the edge of knife,
No more a struggle, nor is full of strife,
Do ye know how many deaths is Death rife?
Death's all death; the same is not true of life,
Life tries to knot her up snaps when death's knife,
But I've heard a man asking on death bed,
Pray, tell me Death, how long ere I'm all dead?
To him, said death, straightening up his head,
Moments might when look like minutes of dread,
Minutes stretch and stretch into hours, instead,
When hours take days, and days, years, you are dead.
Remember, life's lived moment to moment,
‘Tis measured too in a moving moment,
Forget not: Death alone is permanent,
I dwell in life from birth, live life dormant;
There's no freedom in life, nor should death call,
Death changes but the bricks of prison wall,
All quarrels ‘tween life and death, big and small,
Settled are, death when proves him far too tall.
Life is a small piece, but a paragraph
Of my poem, said Death, metre nor measure but in half,
Life may decide every new beginning,
But ‘tis me that knows the length, knows ending.
Eons pass sans measure for endless time,
While no clocks tick, nor dare their hours to chime,
Boulders of rocks break down whilst time stands still,
O grinding into grains of sands sans will.
While life is stuck with my poem's first rhyme,
Death challenged life to dare the worst she can,
I'm the Absolute trouser wearing man1,
I wonder how relative would tick time!
_____________________________________________ ___________
1. Death muses himself to be the male principle, the purusha.
The poem stands for life and prakriti. The piece here depicts
a dialogue between Life, or the matter, the poem and her
creator poet, the Death. In Indic philosophy, purusha is the
presiding deity, the atman or soul, which is eternal and body
is made of prakriti, the material nature, which is death-bound.
_____________________________________________ __________________
- Musings | 12.08.12 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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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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World Ending
World ending
Plants
Animals
People
Sufferin g
World ending
Death
Erosion
Fire
Over populating
World ending
Global warming
Planet dieing
Lakes evaporating
Buildings collapsing
World ending
Forests burning
People killing
Ice melting
Cities growing
World ending
People shaking
Paranoia
Insane asylum
Wrong diagnosis
World ending
Lost souls
Haunted houses
People screaming
Eyes closed
IF YOU OPEN YOUR EYES NOW
YOU CAN WATCH THE WORLD END….
poem by Alicia Boyke
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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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death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What Ending?
Could not hold it, put it down.
TIME.
The words forget you, pass by.
You remain standing on the brink.
Now, now, where to go?
Time avenges, walks on you
and you cannot catch the breath,
to fill the space between life and death
life will not move, death will not stop.
If not ready to live, death will not look like you
you will not look like death.
World changes every thing,
when seeing stops, listening begins
losing threads of me, between you and me
between me and you.
Something grows out of the mud
a new star.
Begins from end, the ending
of beginning. No ending, no beginning.
Timeless, faceless, nameless
groping in void, to catch the alphabets
Peaks are very frightening
Then where is the end? No end.
This is the end.
poem by Satish Verma
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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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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
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
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Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
Death death death death death death death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Angels Are Not Saints
angels are not saints, we do believe that they exist
they can even transform themselves into human for
form, but still remain to what they are in their natural
phenomenon
they are called by many names, they too have rank to
obey, for angels lives like us, who work and have task
given by their master, in some moments we see them,
as they appears everyone notice them for angels, are
favorite images in every literature
angels are not God, that can judge nor an icon to be adored
in the altar that we throne, for only they serve to the master
where they return, in God's wisdom they are form
all angels are holy, but not a saints, as it could be, for only
man's nature reserved to be, by holiness one's sinfulness
make us saint in all eternity
angels is in highest stage, where over and above human sphere,
never that they are superior nor inferior to human lure, for one
mistake subject to be thrown to the fire that burn
angels are angels never be a saints for eternity, for our destiny
they are made, forever they well always lead us, we equal the
same beginning in the image and likeness of God, we took
and shared one love, a breath that last for a lifetime
angels as we, differ from they, who by the one who sent them,
reminds us all, to be, in a nation of saints not of an angel
where we are call
poem by Antonio Liao
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Death is... A Compilation of Death Poetry
(10/05/2000)
Death is when your loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain to the heart
Death is a feeling of permanent sadness & pain
Death is when your loved ones have forever gone away
Death is a call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is a lesson to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is an unhappy feeling to have
Death is unpleasant on anyone's behalf
Death is something we all will go through
Death is a storm waiting to brew
Death is a lingering crow always overhead
Death is a soul, done being fed
Death is cruel,
Death is unfair,
Why death?
Does death care?
Death is unkind,
Death breaks hearts,
Why death?
Do you like to part?
Death is here,
Death is there,
Why death?
Why be everywhere?
Death is the end,
Death is to die,
Why death?
To make people cry?
Death was created,
Death is still here,
Why death?
We live in fear,
Death is death,
Death is dead,
Why death?
Because death said.
Death is forever, so don’t flirt with death
Death is painful, so stay away from knifes
Death is not for lovers, so don’t die
Death is not for me, so don’t even try
Death is never clear, so be careful
Death is never fun, so stay away from strangers
Death is never pleasing, so don’t get caught up in the hype
Death is never fair, so get use to it
Death is always occurring, so don’t forget it
Death is never what u expect, so expect the unexpected
Death is not for you, so please don’t give up
Death is forever, so don’t forget that
poem by Shenise Ashmeade
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Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All
All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.
What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.
It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.
Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.
Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.
Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Death Is The End
Death Is The End,
Death Is Sadness,
Death Is Dark,
Death Is Light,
Death Is The End To Your Short Life,
Death Is The Begining To Your Eternal Life,
Death Isn't The End,
Death Isn't Sadness,
Death Is Happyness,
Death Is Your Final Rest,
Death Is Your Second And Final Begining,
Death Is Your Rebirth,
Death Is Final...........
Death Is The Beginning It's Not The End
From the day we are born we are dicing with death,
We have limited control over our final breath,
You may live for seconds or for many years,
Our demise is something everyone fears.
When will it happen do you wish you knew how?
Or perhaps you wouldn't if it was happening now,
When you're young and carefree you don't really care,
You tend not to think of when or where.
If an elderly relation in your family dies,
You ask yourself why everyone cries,
Why did they leave could it possibly be planned?
As a child it's so hard to understand.
As you grow older the thought crosses your mind,
It's then you realise death can be so unkind,
If there's a God is it he who chooses,
What's the criteria, who wins who loses.
Who is it that decides how you'll meet your fate,
Will it be early in life or will it be late,
Could it be through disease or perhaps old age?
To know this would take the mind of a sage.
You needn't fear death if you believe God is true,
Have faith in the Lord and he'll see you through,
The kingdom of Heaven is open to all races,
He has no interest in the colour of our faces.
A land of paradise where we're all as one,
Living in harmony, as for conflict there's none,
It may sound like a dream but God does not deceive,
There's life after death but you've got to believe.
The main lessons in life that need to be learned,
Are entry to His kingdom can only be earned,
If you wish to do otherwise your soul you can sell,
The rewards will be an eternity in Hell.
So you see there's no need to be in fear of dying,
The Good Lord has never been one for lying
By obeying Gods will to Heaven you'll ascend,
‘' Death Is The Beginning It's Not The End ‘'
Death part 1
Death can strike when we least expect it
Death is a significant event that will change our lives
Death will cause sorrow, depression, grief, and loneliness
Death is like the ending cycle of one's life and a beginning for another
But death can also bring new life
poem by Jeffrey Liminsang
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Meaning of Death
when a poet writes of death
don't take it literally
death has many meanings
which differ significantly
to a poet death might mean
death of a past
which is a new beginning
one that might last
death to a poet is life
time to start a new chapter
turn the page
turn sadness into laughter
to a poet death is a new start
ending of strife
closing, locking the doors
of their old life
death has so many meanings
not only for a poet
all parts of life leads to death
some just don't know it
death means change
chance for a new beginning
put the past behind
stop losing, start winning
so to a poet
death is not always bad
we must write our feelings
whether good or sad
p.s.not sure this makes much sense
but i was buzzed ;)
poem by Sandy Nobody
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The Scarecrow
Unblinking eyes always watching, always searching, never seeing,
Stoic man of straw guards the crops, never jumps and never hops,
Black birds of opportunity seek to doom this friendly community,
Menace of flight prey on corn, the village without will forever mourn,
Absent of straw they would all die, if not for this man who never lies,
He cannot fly, he cannot speak, without his presence the crows havoc would wreak,
His job is thankless, he is not paid, without jest he is portrayed,
He will not quit, he will not sway, the flying apparitions will lose this day,
Though he cannot speak or ever murmur, he watches as the crow gather, ready to murder,
Man of straw ready to fight, every day and every night, he fights for life,
He braces for the end and thinks of his friends,
The black cloud of death draws ever near and the scarecrow never shows fear,
All moments of carnage and chaos must come to an end, even if the Strawman must die for his friends,
For his death he is always ready, blood never pumping, for he's brain-dead already,
To be alive is not bleeding nor breathing, but living with a meaning,
The Strawman's will is strong and true, he will stand tall no matter what they do,
His friends in danger and doomed to die, more time is all he can buy,
Masks of fright they all wear, a fight to the death is never fair, masks of death everywhere,
As death from above comes ever near, all he can do is watch them with a smile and a sneer,
If time for his friends is all he can buy, then today is a good day to die.
poem by Ruik Caldorn
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