Nothing Short Of Purgatory
The purposeful strides
of youth
to the painful short steps
of old age
the final stage
from purgatory's indignities
to death.
poem by Vince Gullaci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Stages Of Development
Every life goes through stages,
stages of development.
It starts with our birth,
the first stage in our lives,
and ends with our death,
the final stage when we
evolve to a higher plane.
Each stage along our journey
prepares us for our final stage
and the journey
that has to be taken by us all.
18 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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...........
Get Off The Stage
Oh, you silly old man
You silly old man
Youre making a fool of yourself
So get off the stage
You silly old man
In your misguided trousers
With your mascara and your fender guitar
And you think you can arouse us ?
But the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
Downstage, and offstage
Dont you feel all run in ?
And do you wonder when they will take it away ?
This is your final fling
But then applause ran high
But for the patience of the ones behind you
As a verse drags on like a month drags on
Its very short, but it seems very long
And the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
So, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when we get down off of the stage
Please stay off the stage - all day !
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when weve had our money back
Then Id like your back in plaster
Oh, I know that you say
How age has no meaning
Oh, but here is your audience now
And theyre screaming :
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
Because Ive given you enough of my time
And the money that wasnt even mine
Have you seen yourself recently ?
Oh, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
For whom the bell tolls
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Life or Death
Death is a mystery,
and life is Suspense.
The journey to death,
is unknown yet,
and Life is a dream stage.
Nobody has come back
From their death,
And life seems to be,
Chasing an invisible end.
Escape from death,
is impossible,
and so from Life.
Death is most painful,
Life is even more.
Death is frightful,
And Life is a puzzle.
So is life,
or Death,
better for a human fate?
poem by Pratisha Karki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grim Reaper Creeping
melancholy serene pallor
wrinkle-less sour lip
telling complete tragedy
confessed contempt
who commissioned artist
a youthful death accepted
or bitterly pierce felt sorrow
shadow death contemplated
impending parting agony
approaching death steals
souls taken in youth blood
life pulse short struck down
life acts play short lived
final curtain scene haunts
bitter fruit to savour
is putrid plaintive flesh
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in 2nd February 1996.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Youth And The Old
the youth and the old-
o what a contrast in between!
the youth is unapologetically mindful
of every millimeter of its dress
for its match, crease, fitness, and what not,
craning and twisting its neck in front of the mirror
and straining every nerve to put up a decent show
everytime it steps out of the house!
the old cares the least for anything
and moves out shabbily unmindful of stature -
while the youth cares all for looks and joy
the old pines for the health of its soul
visiting whatever that is holy
and dwelling wherever it could smell peace!
while the temples are for the pleasures of youth
they are the holy rivers to cleanse the souls of the old.
the youth sprays the worthless ever with matching hearts
the old broods within itself submerging in the sparks of the past!
the youth, does it care for the future?
the old tunes its ears to the knocks of death.
the youth dares death at its cave
but the old, though wishes death,
is terribly afraid of even to listen its distant footfalls!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Getting Old
When you’re young you think you know it all
Then you get old and life begins to unfold.
In their youth they don’t think ahead
The future is something they do not dread.
They feel that everything in life they can control
They’re young and strong and very bold.
Aaaah! Those beautiful days bring back memories
Of how simple life used to be.
Youth had respect for the elderly
And their fellow man.
Now the elderly they try to scam.
When they are older they will see
They want respect and to live with dignity.
they are young and they don’t seem to understand
That with age you may need a helping hand.
Everything in life comes in stages
It’s like a book when you turn the pages
It gets deeper and keeps you enthralled
Until the time that you reach the end
And you’ve lost all your family and friends.
The First stage is when you are a child
And someone is taking care of you for that while.
The Second stage is when you become a teen
And you feel like a king or queen.
You feel that you can not get old
This is what you believe at this stage in your life
Because you’re not looking at the struggles and strife.
The Third stage is the adolescent years
And you feel you’re in control and lose your fears.
The final stage is when you become old and gray
And your youthful years have slipped away.
You look back and ask yourself!
where did All those years go?
Why did I waste so much time?
And the most important thing is
That I am so glad I made you mine
For with you by my side I had a life divine.
So to the youth who have not gotten to this stage
Don’t get angry, and get rid of your rage.
There is no way to turn back the time
For time just moves straight ahead
You’re getting to the point that you now dread.
WELCOME TO OLD AGE! HA-HA
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
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
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death used to announce itself in the thick of life but now people drag on so long it sometimes seems that we are reaching the stage when we may have to announce ourselves to death. It is as though one needs a special strength to die, and not a final weakness.
quote by Ronald Blythe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Women kill men in their sport.
When love at first instant is turned down,
it is a foetus death, painless.
When it is admitted and thrown out,
it is an infantile death, painful.
When it is grown and left barren,
it is an adulthood death, much painful.
When love is built but then split,
It is a death by accident, pain unbearable.
Why does not woman understand it?
26.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dolour Of The Human
Dolour of youth heartaches the world,
With so much flesh and bones that crack.
My mount especially found the raise
Of youth, the significant blush, and one to reclaim.
The dolour of the intermediate stage
Of human suffering and age created a coup d’etat,
To shorten the phrase, a blameworthy man is not woman,
Sudden plucking of feathers are for the birds, not words.
Dolour of old age make homo sapiens a master race,
As bold as nature itself, then this dolour of youth is final.
To improve one’s land is like the garden for the gardener,
And dolour of human strength resides in all ages.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Purgatory
Beautiful people - got their beautiful lives - got their
Beautiful husbands - got their beautiful wives - got their
Beautiful bankers - got their beautiful lawyers
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people are sent to destroy us
Beautiful people - got their beautiful kids - got their
Beautiful schools where the beautiful other half live - got their
Beautiful futures in their beautiful professions
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people got the money for the lessons
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to laugh at it
Cos, I'm living in Purgatory 'n anything's better than this
Beautiful people got their beautiful clothes - got their
Beautiful mansions - down their beautiful country roads - got their
Beautiful Doctors - in their beautiful surgeries
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people like a little privacy
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to laugh at it
Cos, I'm living in Purgatory 'n anything's better than this
Beautiful losers on their beautiful estates got their
beautiful job centres on the beautiful welfare wait and wait
Beautiful dreamers - out of their beautiful skulls
All things are bright and beautiful
As long as they're beautiful, people stay beautiful.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to lau
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Death Is My Companion
(4/3/12)
Where do we go from here? When death is very near.
Is there another plateau we must climb
Before we reach the end of the line.
Death is just a resting place - a rest stop if you must!
You will not be afraid if in GOD you put your trust.
Death is my companion - he holds my hand
Death is my companion - he understands.
Known as the angel of death, the grim reaper
Of this temporary life he is the keeper.
In his clutches you'll be for a short spell
Till they decide if you're going to heaven or hell.
This is a rest stop where you take a break
Till they decide what is your fate.
So while I am on this plateau
There is no where that I will go.
Where do we go from here?
Your guess is as good as mine
As long as I'm not here until the ends of time.
This must be purgatory that I hear so much about
Maybe this is where we can turn our lives about.
Death! I know you're my companion
And we have walked hand in hand
But there is something I think you should understand
There are things on this earth that I must do
And until I finish them, my life on earth is not through.
I put my faith in GOD that he will show me the way
And from that road, I know I will not stray.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0989..... Death! Death! Death!
I don't fear Death
I don't invite Death
I wish I Taste It, But
I wish it's Peaceful
And not painful.
For, I can not not exist
I am Eternal, For
I see me in You,
In everything,
I don't fear Death
I Love Sleeps n Dreams
Death, a little Long Sleep.
For, Universe is Closed System;
As Clausius said
Sum Energy is Constant.
Where Can I go after
My Death, Only to
comeback elsewhere,
A little Hide and seek, like
Changing Dresses
All Beginnings must End
All Ends must Begin
Coins should have Two Sides
I come only to go back,
And to come back later again
I don't fear Death
I don't invite Death
I wish it's only
Peaceful, Not painful
Oh! God, please Grant my Request!
(12-04-2010, Chennai)
poem by Gan Chennai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All purposeful manifestations of life, including their very purposiveness, in the final analysis have their end not in life but in the expression of its nature, in the representation of its significance.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
All Soul's Day
They throng the tombs of near and dear,
To pray for souls in Purgatory;
They offer masses, light candles,
And place flowers on cemetery.
They visit tombs of orphans, friends,
And hear Requiem masses this day;
They give alms, singing hymns for dead,
Pleading for God's mercy and pray.
No soul is sinless on dying;
The soul must be freed off all sins;
The venial sins forgotten need
To be dumped in Purgatory's bins!
We ought to pray for all the dead,
Our kith and kin and strangers too;
The dead cannot do more penance,
And earn the grace of God on own!
November is the month to pray
To God to grant eternal rest,
For all awaiting Judgment's Day,
And help them pass the final Test!
Let light perpetual shine on souls
In Purgatory, where they are cleansed;
Pardon them Lord and release them;
Permit them to enter Heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-11-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forgiving Myself
In my youth...
My casting shadow
Appeared to glide
Against all it reflected.
There were few rests between strides.
And I did not concern myself,
With the limitations of time and uncertainties.
I've aged to witness my slowing pace...
With an acceptance,
A mind of a child does not forgive!
I've learned to respect the 'do's and 'don't's
Of life!
That did not come easy!
Nor did my patience come without making mistakes.
Or taking risks!
And forgiving myself has been the best lesson I've learned!
Afterall...
These steps I take today,
Are watched much more carefully with a purpose...
Each time they are taken!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death
Death is forever
So don't flirt with suicide
Death is painful
Stay away from knives
Death is not for lovers
So don't lie
Death is not for me
So don't even try
Death is clever
So be careful
Death is never fun
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 ignore it
Death is never what you expected
Sorry but it has to happen
Death is not for you
Please don't give up
Death is forever
Don't forget it
(5-15-05)
poem by Brandi Young
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: I
When is life other than a tragedy,
Whether it is played in tears from the first scene,
In sable robes and grief's mute pageantry,
For loves that died ere they had ever been,
Or whether on the edge of joys set keen,
While all the stage with laughter is agog,
Death stepping forward with an altered mien
Pulls off his mask, and speaks the epilogue?
Life is a play acted by dying men,
Where, if its heroes seem to foot it well
And go light--tongued without grimace of pain,
Death will be found anon. And who shall tell
Which part was saddest, or in youth or age,
When the tired actor stops and leaves the stage?
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The garden
I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene
As it was unusual for me to have seen
The death of son who was born some hours back
Everybody in home were stunned and in shock
The garden comes to life when season comes up with flowers
It was evident from the fact that earth had enough of rain showers
My garden too was blessed with arrival of beautiful baby
We all had prayed for it so song and became so much happy
The happiness was short lived as child breathed little
We all tried hard but he breathed for a while and failed to settle
This was totally unexpected and sent us in shock waves
He brought the hopes for short while and caved in
I was given no room to think about the sad departure
The child was our great hope for the future
Even though I had daughter and son in family
The child was welcome and we missed him sadly
If all the flowers in garden boom freely and survive
No one may have faith in god and believe
Some flowers fade early and some stay for longer
It is philosophy of life that we all are stage actor
I consoled self and left it to the best counsel
Even though it was difficult to come out and feel well
I gave final look at the dead son and dropped few tears
The grief was proving difficult and taking me over
I know it is very difficult to bear and act
It is not in our control also to deny the facts
Life is temporary stage and one will have to leave
There is no other option and we got to believe
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!