Mobility Is Life
mobility is life
hamstring strife
immobile death
flight or fight
both require fleet
skill footwork
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Warrior's Prayer
Long since, in sore distress, I heard one pray,
'Lord, who prevailest with resistless might,
Ever from war and strife keep me away,
My battles fight!'
I know not if I play the Pharisee,
And if my brother after all be right;
But mine shall be the warrior's plea to thee--
Strength for the fight.
I do not ask that thou shalt front the fray,
And drive the warring foeman from my sight;
I only ask, O Lord, by night, by day,
Strength for the fight!
When foes upon me press, let me not quail
Nor think to turn me into coward flight.
I only ask, to make mine arms prevail,
Strength for the fight!
Still let mine eyes look ever on the foe,
Still let mine armor case me strong and bright;
And grant me, as I deal each righteous blow,
Strength for the fight!
And when, at eventide, the fray is done,
My soul to Death's bedchamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Death is.....
Death is peaceful
Death is sharp pain in my heart
Death is feeling sadness
Death is deppresion
death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is when i cant think about whats right
Death is a good thing on my behalf
Death started when i gained life
Death is where ill go
Death is near
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
DEATH WILL STOP MY MISERY
poem by Angelique Paniagua
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Rawr
rawr means im in a fight
rawr means ive stopped my flight
rawr means im not sure whats right
who do i fight when i yell rawr
its me.....under your star
if you still care....
if you dare to understand
rawr means i fight me
fight me to the death do it so willingly!
black and blue as i continue to fight myself
its been months of war
war of the mind war of the body war of the soul i am now something to abhor!
rawr....i feel like im losing.... i mean look at me im writing poetry
again i cant let my feelings out i cant lose but i must
rawr rawr i will fight until, ive rust
gone and died one side
will win this not a chide!
this is war i must fight myself i cannot condone this
rawr RAWR RAWR! ! ! ! ! !
poem by David Knox
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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here
This is going to become a battle for access to your home and office plus mobility. It's about who can provide the biggest and least expensive and fastest pipe to your home and office and offer you a mobility feature.
quote by Steve Largent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The game
He walks in a grey light.
He does possess loads of might.
He is always kind in a fight.
His style is his delight.
He plays with a football thats dark & white.
He runs so fast that his feet take flight.
He is always away at night.
He must fight in the light.
People admire his fair heart in a fight.
He is always on his game.
He does not care about his name.
Just because he is different doesn't mean he can't live life right.
Do not forget that life is a fight between wrong and right.
Death - The Gift of Life
There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life
We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
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Self-Portrait in Shoulder Stand
Old bag of bones
upside down,
what are you searching for
in poetry,
in meditation?
The mother you never had?
The child in you
that you did not conceive?
Death?
Ease from fear of death?
Revelation?
Dwelling in the house of clouds
where you imagine
you once lived?
'Born alone,
we depart alone.'
Someone said that
during meditation
& I nearly wept.
Oh melancholy lady
behind your clown face,
behind your wisecracks-
how heady it is
to let the ideas rush to your brain!
But even upside down,
you are sad.
Even upside down,
you think of your death.
Even upside down,
you curse the emptiness.
Meditating
on the immobile lotus,
your mind takes flight
like a butterfly
& dabbles in bloodred poppies
& purple heather.
Defying gravity,
defying death,
what makes you think
the body's riddle
is better solved
upside down?
Blood rushes to your head
like images that come too fast
to write.
After a life held in the double grips
of gravity & time,
after a headfirst birth
out of your mother's bowels
& into the earth,
you practice for the next.
You make your body light
so that in time,
feet first,
you will be born
into the sky.
poem by Erica Jong
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If you knew the upward mobility that South Dakota's kids have gotten from the opportunity to intern and to work and to be employed and to have upward mobility in that company and move on, it's been phenomenal for South Dakota.
quote by Bill Janklow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am sailing out along parallel 32.5 to stress that this is the Libyan border. This is the line of death where we shall stand and fight with our backs to the wall. (On planning confrontation with US Sixth Fleet in Mediterranean)
quote by Muammar Qaddafi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real Life Living
Real life is walking back and dreaming
Real life is entering the picture and achieving
Real life is a fight
To fight with words for swords
And yes swords for words
Here are worlds of sores
This soaring world
Soaring low and high
Swirling to and fro
Mixing sky with dreams
Mixing eyes
Mixing creams with dyes and dies
Paints dripping and dried
Gripping pages grind
Gripping life as a vice death
And death is hate
And hates rest
We wrestle this world upon conception
'till death
And death and life are
Chasing tails
Life is real
While death is chasing tales
And death is really
A bugging issue
Real life realing death
Into sure casting fire
And dreams into life really
Killing death and real life living
poem by Deci Hernandez
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The Raven's Bad Rap
Ghastly Raven like a beast appearing in the dark,
With boring eyes oh! so stark,
Knocking on death's very door,
Is it true of you...I implore?
Ominous bird they say...no, I do believe... just a bad rap,
I'm here to set you free....poor chap,
Your vast wings will ease your flight now to freely soar;
As you seek food..not death when you explore,
Since Poe's Raven...there's been for you too much strife,
Truth said...you're a loyal fellow to your mate & that's for life,
You now have the right to your freedom & to share it too with mankind;
And leave all this contrived bad rap behind.
Spiritsong
Nov.4/10
poem by Jean Dament
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Questions
Death is better than life. This lonely life and this lonely night are both equal to death. Always I beg for death although death does not come to me. Let me die because this world does not require me. I am not crazy and I have survived the worst. Hopefully future will be better but will I still be alive to see the future? I ask myself about why am I still breathing the air of this world? A question mark is the ending. Will I still be alive to see future of this world and of my life?
poem by Rohit Sapra
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Justice is the One who gives Life on Me
For the people who seek for comfort or dead mercy,
Their fairness sob and yet still strife for their right,
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.
My eyes shed tears, my heart crumpled tenderly
Cries of beggar and poor who gleamed on my sight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life on me.
The soul who screams, murdered by hatred and fury,
By means of politics, they were killed and cause blight
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.
Such criminals must be punish and injured severely,
Either they’ll tell the truth or lie, a freedom to fight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life for me.
Unjust power, ways of government over sovereignty,
To rule the nation seeking in dark the hopes in light
Yet, rage against the death of justice before it will be.
Hearts and souls are estranged on life that’s so unlucky,
And unfair and believers grasp on their faith; hold on tight,
And rage against the death of justice before it will be,
For only Justice, Justice and Justice…
Which the one who gives life to me.
poem by Raymond Cabrera
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Hindsight (understanding after thr facts)
A relationship is a fight…
A fight for flight…
Day or night…
Only when one is misunderstood…
And that's not good…
When there is no patience…
And perseverance be damn…
Who's permission…
Did I authorize that…?
Am I really in love with the person…?
Or enthralled with the relationship…?
What, do we have in common…?
Really.
Mmmm…a little of this, nice…
Mmmm…a little of that, very nice…
Not enough…what about my stuff…
And why am I being treated rough…
My needs…who am I any more…?
Why, are my wings so short now…?
Am I the maid…?
A work horse…?
I should… say not…
I am a beautiful woman and human being…
Misunderstand me no more…
I fly high…and smile, looking down over…
My world…
From within my own skin…
Let my life begin…
Why should I fight…while in flight…
Yes! I share myself…but not my-self…
Let me reach out…
And touch the who…which is really me…
Still being a woman…
While being free…
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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The Few
this is a sad flight of people who never knew themselves
now they are dead even in the middle of their lives
the desire has been sucked and the body is empty
the soul is hollow and it quests to be filled again
it has a beginning that was forgotten
it has an end but it has not known it since then
this is a sad flight of people who have chosen death
in the midst of noise
this is a lonely fight of people who have long surrendered
there are no questions and there are no answers
there is this cycle that only a few have broken
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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In our relationship, we don't have that situation. I don't require what he needs, and he doesn't require what I need. I know what I do; I have an amazing life that nobody knows about.
quote by John Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Here They Trysted, And Here They Strayed
Here they trysted, here they strayed,
In the leafage dewy and boon,
Many a man and many a maid,
And the morn was merry June.
'Death is fleet, Life is sweet,'
Sang the blackbird in the may;
And the hour with flying feet,
While they dreamed, was yesterday.
Many a maid and many a man
Found the leafage close and boon;
Many a destiny began -
O, the morn was merry June!
Dead and gone, dead and gone,
(Hark the blackbird in the may!),
Life and Death went hurrying on,
Cheek on cheek--and where were they?
Dust on dust engendering dust
In the leafage fresh and boon,
Man and maid fulfil their trust -
Still the morn turns merry June.
Mother Life, Father Death
(O, the blackbird in the may!),
Each the other's breath for breath,
Fleet the times of the world away.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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