Pessimism for Babies
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We scream—torn from the womb in discontent.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
No matter the calmant the doctor tries,
A guttural growl bellows as we vent.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We are helpless infants, forced to comply—
Forced to understand a life of torment.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
Our faces beam bright red. We are untied—
Cut from the cord that provides nourishment.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
We are ripped out by our feet—held up high.
We hang there—exposed and indecent.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
The saline streams of tears soak in our eyes.
The first moment of life makes us lament.
When we are born, we hysteric'lly cry.
In death, it is said, we'll fin'lly learn why.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Related quotes
Learn
when broken
learn
when happy
learn
when bored
learn
when you float and does not know what to do
learn just the same
when filled with idealism
learn
when fed with what you cannot swallow
learn again
when the times get rough and you want to kill yourself
learn, learn, learn
you still have many things to learn
faces of life
bodies of life
learn, learn, learn everything
do not surrender
for in truth, you do not do what you only want
you will also do what you are told to do
no questions asked
or you will be left out
or you will be not a part of the picture
this life
learn, learn, learn, always learn
do not surrender
live, learn, live, learn
you will soon do all that others will tell you
learn, learn and learn again
and sooner you will have learned everything
and then do what you want to do
with firm conviction
you know now what is right
and that is what you will do,
now without even being told
you have become yourself
but still learn, learn, and learn again
because
you might be wrong,
try thinking some more, learn
relearn, learn, learn, learn, forevermore....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All that is born must die
No one and nothing, remains the same
Everyone has to learn to say goodbye
Every thing changes in fact and in name
All that is born must die
Look in your tattered albums,
look at the faces
They'll speak of volumes
Of lost times and places
Childhood is fleeting
Innocence must fly
Passage of time is deleting
All that is born must die
Accepting the changes
From comfortable places
To new feelings and ranges
To New lives and new faces
To learn to let go
To let hands slip from yours
To yield to life's flow
To walk through opened doors
Each day there's a parting
New peace and new strife
Life changing and starting
From the old, to new life
Each new day differs from the last
Every sunrise and sunset in the sky
Is different and has traveled into the past
Everyone has to learn to say goodbye…
And all that is born must die
poem by David Whalen
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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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Death’s Too Near
Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!
Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!
Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Daughter of Death
I was born
Born to the blood of angels
Born through the veil of a storm
Born without love inside of me
Born with a need to perform
Born out of vengence
Born out of scorn
Born out of hatred
out of love torn
Born with a mission
Born with a drive
Born with a need
with a need to sruvive.
Now it's time to show you what i'm really about
no more pretentions;
No more frothing at the mouth
there's no use of hiding
all my sins deep inside
I'll wear them on my shoulder like a badge of pride
Cuz i'm the daughter of death
from my very first breath
i'm the daughter of death
blood red as macbeth
living a filthy mess
i'm a daughter of death
just a daughter of death
I was
Raised from buring ashes
Raised with tragic crime
Raised from cries of chaos
Raised on borrowed time
Raised by the darkness
Rasied by the night
Raised by the claws of fright
Raised to be hated
Riased to be loved
Riased to be doomed
By the powers above
poem by Brittany Cook
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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
Learn
Learn, learn, learn,—
Our beautiful world is not a field for sheep;
Not just a place wherein to laugh and weep,
To eat and drink, to dance and sigh and sleep,
And then to moulder into senseless dust.
Learn, learn, learn,—
Look up and learn—you cannot look too high!
Not for the earthly wealth which brains can buy,
Not for the sake of gold and luxury—
Treasures corrupted by the moth and rust.
Learn, learn, learn,—
As one in whom the Lord has breathed His breath,
And aye redeemèd from the power of death—
Not as the dumb brute-beast that perisheth,
Not as a soulless, thoughtless, thankless clod.
Learn, learn, learn,—
With love and awe and patience—not in haste;
Drink deeply,—do not pass by with a taste;
O make your land a garden, not a waste!—
Your mind bright, to reflect the face of God.
Learn, learn, learn,—
The mystic beauty and the truth of life;
Search out the treasures whereof earth is rife,
Search on all sides, with pain and prayer and strife;
Search even into darkness. Do not fear.
Learn, learn, learn,—
With a true, steadfast heart, lay up your hoard;
God will sort out the treasures you have stored,
And set them in His bright light, afterward.
He will make all your difficulties clear.
Learn, learn, learn,—
Death is no breaking at a certain place;
We only pause there for a little space.
And then—you would not shame Him to His face?—
You, in His Image and own Likeness made!
Learn, learn, learn,—
Walk with wide-open eyes and reverent heart.
Worship as God the beautiful in art.
Though you see now but dimly, and in part,
All shall be clear in time. Be not afraid.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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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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Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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X’mas
Born was a child in a manger;
Born was the son of God, the Father;
Born was the love of the Maker;
Born was for men, a Redeemer.
Born was a baby boy, a king;
Born was on earth a prophet great;
Born was the love of God in human form;
Born was a Messiah.
Born was a son of a carpenter;
Born was the king of Jews;
Born was the living God as flesh;
Born was a Savior.
Born was a babe, who brought,
Joy and peace to the world;
Born was a babe on a bed of hay,
As angels choirs kept singing on.
Born was the spotless Lamb of God
Who was to die on the cross;
Born was a divine child,
From the Virgin Mary’s womb!
Born was Lord Jesus Christ,
Who paid the price for our sins,
And by His death and resurrection,
Made it possible for sinners too,
To go to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2006
poem by John Celes
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Belief is the religion
No life could be born
Without the fusion of sperm and ovum.
No life could end with out a death.
Christ was born, Krishn was born,
Rama was born, without a sperm.
No one born could escape death.
Christ vanished, Krishn vanished,
Rama vanished, without a death.
We are told to believe and we do.
It is called religion
08.10.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Forever Starts at the End (A Sonnet)
Eternal life will start in my late last.
But who knows death began ere I was born?
A christian needs to die, as it's a must,
Before he could have seen the coming morn.
The day I went out from my mother's womb,
Is just as my death anniversary.
A dead child risen from a woman's tomb,
And breathing dust that lives for vanity.
I'm now alive but died with Him; and then,
Will die to live a life, and will not die
Again of death that doubled-killed the men
Born dead, although, alive, yet passers-by...
The residents of deathless fire where dwell
Those who died dead to die a death in Hell.
poem by Ray Remalig
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Born Alone
Born alone to die alone
In between family is grown
And so many ties ar borne
Before it is all flown
On wings of death
Born alone to die alone
In between many hats are worn
Some to rejoice some to mourn
Before it is all blown
In winds of death
Born alone to die alone
In between unique spirit is shown
On the streets or on the throne
some to relive some to moan
in arms of death
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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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 death death
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Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Sad eyes (Angel incarnate)
Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I tried hiding but it found me
I tried running but it captured me
I soon realized you can't escape
Not from pain, sorrow, fear or death
They all catch up with us eventually.
I was put here not to suffer
But to learn
To learn what makes sorrow, pain, fear, and death.
To learn, to understand and find a way to ease people's fears of death and to take away their sorrow
Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I know I look youthful but really I'm ancient
I was here a little after the beginning my soul reincarnate always knowing and seeing what I've seen
Never being deceived herself but seeing the deceitful people around her
My eyes are sad because I'm supposed to be innocent but I'm not
They're sad because I can never just be who I am
Because if I do I'll be feared and harmed even though I myself am essentially harmless
I pity those around me but find no pity towards me in others eyes
I'm the angel incarnate
I lost my wings because my tears washed them away
poem by Jenna Camilla
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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“death”
“ DEATH I SWHEN ALL SEEMS LOST
DEATH IS WHEN YOU HAVE TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO YOUR LOVED ONES
DEATH IS WHEN ALL YOU SEE ARE TEARS
DEATH IS WHEN YOU JUST DON’T CARE ‘
DEATH IS WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE EVERYTHING IS FALLING ON TOP OF YOU
DEATH IS WHEN THAT PERSON IS RE-BORN
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING YOUR TIME IS UP
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING I NEED YOU”
poem by Yeslin Salazar
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The Eve of My Death
The eve of my death, a baby was born, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, a baby took her first stumbling steps, and this kept me
alive.
The eve of my death, a school bus filled with laughing children drove away,
and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I looked out my window to see my child be swept
away to prom, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, my baby, my child reached out her hand to accept her
diploma, she is not a baby or a child any more, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I walked with my daughter down the isle, and this kept
me alive.
The eve of my death, I held my new born grandson in my arms, and this kept
me alive.
The day of my death, I feel my grandson's tears hit me like a cool spring rain,
I see his father behind a podium an inch away from tears, I feel the
flowers on the casket that holds the only thing that keeps me alive.
poem by Stephen Howard
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Learning from within
As i think I learn,
I see whats inside my head,
Things I didn't know, things that haunt me.
And I think what will change, and what will come,
Think of pain, of love,
I think of confidence, of music.
And I know everyone thinks, everyone learns through themselves.
I know this, yet I still think,
Of who I am, of what others think.
But what does that matter, all you control is yourself,
And I think,
Of life, of death,
Of everything that exists, and everything that has stopped existing.
I think of myself, of others,
And somehow I learn,
Without teachers, without being told anything,
Maybe that's why we think,
To learn, to become ourselves.
Maybe that's why we exist,
To learn through ourselves,
Maybe that's why we live.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Grandma, I Never Knew You
I never knew you
You are my grandmother.
I get mad at God
For not giving me a chance
To know you.
You died ten years
Before I was born.
It breaks my heart
Every time I think
That I will never get
The chance to know you.
I look at your picture that hangs
Almost everyday.
I wonder if I have your eyes.
I wonder if I have your laugh.
I wonder if I have your smile.
I wonder if I have your nose.
I wonder if I have anything of you.
I guess I will never know
I guess I will never get to see you.
Death is the most tragic thing in life
Death is hard on me now than I was younger.
Death is what I have inside
Thinking of everyone that I have lost.
Death is forever
Death is longer than an eternity
Death is permanent
Death is a scar that never goes away.
Death is what I feel everyday
Death is what has to be.
Death is what is happening everyday.
Death is what no one knows for sure.
Death is what everyone goes through.
Death is the reason why I am the way I am
Death is what I fear…
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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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
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Death death death death death death death
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Death death death death death death death
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Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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