Movement of the Saints
In their minds they bear the loss,
silently written in their hearts
Boldly written the loss.
What else can they say?
After all they have,
all that seemed right
they still cannot behold
that which Life could not uphold
It is in their place to cry,
Tears for tears every passing day
for that which they adore is no more
So heavily wounded they are.
The journey has began,
In a white silk, he moves.
With his feet off the Earth he goes.
In a peacful acceleration.
For you deeds will open the way
As the hearts weep here on earth,
your soul will dwell peacfully in Heaven.
Movement into his Glory.
May your soul rest in perfect peace
poem by Jackson Nyoho
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A Soul Departed Today At Piet
A SOUL DEPARTED TODAY AT PIET
A soul exited Today to the abode of heaven
I could not recall his face as others say was a man
Known among his strange friends as a bonhomie
Torn in the mortar of all filial enemy
Upon his exit, all celebrated the pain of loss
No matter what it cost to him to edify such bliss
As all would die; none would be redeemed
Soul would rest in peace in the house of God
All we have is his memories so fresh
Like balm on a cut unready to dress
Pain of loss is the loss of gain
As we gather to bemoan him again and again
His mortal remains left to be decayed
One with the earth as lay on nature’s bed
A few started weeping; their tears wet the earth
His mother lied on bed as fortune forever mirth
A few got his photo to say a final Good bye
Friends wept so loud as if God has lied
Trembling limbs of father consoles the remains
That reached to destiny before its arrival
The tinkling tears of brother denies to get dried
He who slept him in nights now lying on death bed
All prayed God to keep his soul in peace
Let his memories remove all dirt of bliss
Last rite of exit yet to be performed
Last kite of a soul yet to be detached
poem by Tuna Biswal
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An Idea Of Heaven
The idea of heaven has always fascinated me
Even though everybody on this earth has thoughts for free
This occurs to us only when some has departed from our home
We wish their soul to rest in peace and get welcome
Even if person has done nothing good on this earth
We wish his/her soul should find place in heaven after death
Only good words are said on the back of departed soul
It is customary and traditional wishes to give such calls
It has baffled me over the fate of soul after departure
The religious books mention of only two places for sure
Heaven and hell are destined in everybody’s fate
Death is certain for all and may come soon or late
I, as child, had cried over mother’s death in accident
It was shock and almost broke me with sad moment
I was unable to come out from shock and thought over
Where and what she may be doing there?
I can’t think much about another world
It sends me shiver in spine and cold
I can’t imagine some one’s departure from fold
Only few can bear the loss and face as bold
As child, I used to dream about that beautiful place
All people may be residing at one place in peace
They might have their place and enjoying
Yet it sent me some times in tears with crying
Of late it has been made clear and we have concluded
Our own performance on earth is absolutely included
Not only for the self satisfaction but journey abroad
Else one may definitely die with remorse and heavy load
We may be compelled some of the bad acts
But the basic things doesn’t alter with facts
Life as such has been taken as temporary phase
Our quest for material gain is considered as mad chase
In short, we have the vision to assure our place
We may know in advance where we will be in that case
We also can reassure happiness on face
As everything is fulfilled happily in limited space
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Bereaved
This pain, this day, we've paid
With our tears, we bear in grieve
The loss of our son,
We so much loved.
In kind, we home
Our sorrows with tears
They flow, for our son, so much beloved.
This soil, of this earth,
Shall take our tears
This soil, of this earth, shall too have our hero
And this air, this air we breathe
Bringing life and laughter
Into the grave, it took our hero.
Rip Kones(i wrote the poem at the passing of a famous kenyan politician who was my mp at the time of passing)
poem by Kipsang Kerich
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Drought
My tears my tears which water my mind
My tears my tears which make me strong
Tears of joy, tears of every kind
Tears of my sorrow, in my sorrowful song
Weeping tears never more
It is gone, it is gone my hearts manifestation
My tears, my tears my eyes adore
The tears of my soul, my only consolation
But never more, will my eyes leak
I can cry no more, for death did steal
The tears of me, forever dry and weak
My tears, my joy, my life's zeal…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Unfortunate
Fold her hands upon her breast,
And let her sweetly sleep.
She has found a perfect rest,
Beneath her winding sheet.
Her weary limbs are now at rest,
And free from toil and pain;
Her weary soul from earth has left,
But in Heaven lives again.
Death has closed her mild blue eyes,
That once was full of mirth,
Her lovely form once full of life,
Will now return to earth.
Touch her gently, let her lie,
This forsaken girl forlorn;
Tears may fall from strangers' eyes,
O'er her silent form.
She was a poor erring girl,
A wanderer alone,
Friends she had none in this world,
Nor a place she could call home.
She's found a home bright and fair
In that world above,
Angels dwell together there,
In perfect peace and love,
Place her gently in her grave,
And let her sweetly sleep.
Judge her not; for he who gave
Her life, her soul will keep.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Loss Of...
Loss it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of dreams, the dreams of tomorrow
Loss of the moments you two should have shared
Loss of opportunities to show her you cared
Loss of the memories you both could have created
Loss of the romance once intense as you dated
Loss of a kiss, caress, or embrace
Loss of that special feeling no one else can replace
Loss of a look, the twinkle in her eye
Loss of the touch as you pass each other by
Loss of a future, from a past of regret
Loss of a last chance, how many do you get
Loss of a promise you never meant to break
Loss of two hearts that forever will ache
(2012)
poem by Michael Ernst
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Loss
Loss is not that first stab,
Nor the numbness that follows.
Loss is not the nights after,
Nor tears shed heavily into pillows.
Loss is coming home full of news,
Only to find an empty house.
Forgetful, to set the table for two,
Turn to speak to vacant air.
Loss is to laugh alone.
poem by Paul Brookes
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Our Journey Complete
I hear angels whispering our name
One by one, we hear the same
This life that was given, has come to an end
Angels await, for heaven they send
Our soul that parts it's physical form
For tears of love that you keep warm
As we drift, to find our way
Gateways of heaven open we pray
Celebrate our living, we request
For our journey on earth, was the quest
Wipe those tears of grief and pain
For we will meet in heaven again...
poem by Noreen Fonseca
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A beggar of mercy
whose is my brother? many times in our lives ask,
the lucid meaning of brotherhood, though in our
hearts, the creator had already implanted us, the
truth of what it mean to be in one race
as candle burn out of a spark, there it goes that it
inflame the wax that gives its light, like a prolong
prayer, that calls, the infinite mercy of the giver of
life to hear the solitude of supplication
our prayer always, tells the meaning of our lives,
every rhyme and rhythm harmonize the songs, verses
become the spirit, that moves us to our unending
journey, a journey where we belong
we are the part and parcel of everything of what is
life, anything happen to each part we are the solution,
yet, the systemic process is not the solution of the
effect, rather we need to use the time, that is shared
to us, an element that can be used to hold on
for in every life that is lost, we loss, a sign that our
belongingness is loose to know more of ourselves, we
have to remember always that everyday is a final day to
recon the beauty of our soul
life we live is an episode to share our soul, a trust we
build, bringing the kingdom of God, on earth from
heaven, for in every twist of our goodness, we save
one precious soul, worthy to receive the salvation
offered by the giver of life..... be a beggar of mercy....
pray
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Baby's Death
A little soul scarce fledged for earth
Takes wing with heaven again for goal
Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
A little soul.
Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth
What things are writ in heaven's full scroll.
Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
And all things held in time's control
Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
A little soul.
The little feet that never trod
Earth, never strayed in field or street,
What hand leads upward back to God
The little feet?
A rose in June's most honied heat,
When life makes keen the kindling sod,
Was not so soft and warm and sweet.
Their pilgrimage's period
A few swift moons have seen complete
Since mother's hands first clasped and shod
The little feet.
The little hands that never sought
Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands,
What gift has death, God's servant, brought
The little hands?
We ask: but love's self silent stands,
Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought
To search where death's dim heaven expands.
Ere this, perchance, though love know nought,
Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,
Where hands of guiding angels caught
The little hands.
The little eyes that never knew
Light other than of dawning skies,
What new life now lights up anew
The little eyes?
Who knows but on their sleep may rise
Such light as never heaven let through
To lighten earth from Paradise?
No storm, we know, may change the blue
Soft heaven that haply death descries
No tears, like these in ours, bedew
The little eyes.
Was life so strange, so sad the sky,
So strait the wide world's range,
He would not stay to wonder why
Was life so strange?
Was earth's fair house a joyless grange
Beside that house on high
Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?
That here at once his soul put by
All gifts of time and change,
And left us heavier hearts to sigh
'Was life so strange?'
Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair
The sweet small frame;
Meet to be called, if ever man's child were,
Angel by name.
Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came,
And might not bear
The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame.
His little light of life was all too rare
And soft a flame:
Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there
Angel by name.
The song that smiled upon his birthday here
Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled
Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear
The song that smiled.
His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled
Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear
Knew then their master, and were reconciled.
But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere
Michael, an angel and a little child,
Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier
The song that smiled.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Sister and Brother...
Imagine a world where all is calm and peacful,
Where our fellow man is not deceatful.
Dream of a life that's bathed in peace and love,
Where we strive to be better when push comes to shove.
Let us open our minds, banish hatred and sin,
We all can do better, we mustn't give in.
There's no need for us to live in a world full of pain,
Extend the hand of friendship, it can keep us all sane.
We must realise this path is always the best,
When our mind is peacful our soul is at rest.
I dream of a world where all men are free,
We're all brothers under the skin one day you will see.
So let us stride forth together and help one another,
When we spread peace and love we are sister and brother...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Faith In Vodka Tears
'those vodka weeping
Russians
those vodka weeping
Russians
crying vodka tears'
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in communism
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in orthodox religion
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in devastated souls
will Russian soul thaw regenerate?
socialist history of faith
under Lenin Stalin Communism
under suppressed orthodox religion
devastated souls did not regenerate...
vodka soothed Russian soul
crying vodka tears
defensive history of faith
under aggressive invasion bestial Nazism
vodka seemed to fire the Russian soul
crying vodka tears
without faith they cry vodka tears
with faith they cry vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
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There is a Little Peice of Heaven
there is a little peice of heaven,
a peice for everyone,
a peice that is safe,
a place that is yours,
a place that brings you peace,
a place that gives you happiness,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
on earth,
on the seas,
in tears,
in eyes,
in loneliness,
in love,
in hatred,
in death,
in life,
in everything,
is that little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
in a soul,
for so many people,
a spot that everyone deserves,
a spot that everyone on earth needs,
a spot where hunger vanishes,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
over roads,
through trees,
in forests,
in the seas,
under waterfalls,
on rooves,
between rocks,
between booz,
a little peice of heaven.
there is a little peice of heaven,
in towns,
in cities,
on isleands,
on boats,
in boxes,
in cars,
in vans,
in trucks,
there is this little peice of heaven.
there is this little peice of heaven,
we all know well.
this little peice of heaven,
is actually...
this little place called...HOME.
poem by Sindal Benson
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Death Poem
My life on earth was very good,
So don't grieve for me with tears.
Just remember the love we once had,
And bury sorrow without pain and fears.
Miss me a little-but not too long,
Hold no rites in a gloom-filled room.
The sun has set for me by God's plan,
And now I travel the long road home.
This sublime journey we all must take,
And each of us must take it alone.
Jesus has provided a place for me,
And with Him I will walk in peace.
Though my time with you was short,
Now there's only love that'll never cease.
On the road to sweet eternal rest,
A path my God has laid for me,
To perfect peace given only by the Best,
My soul goes on to taste and see.
My heart prays that I ace the test,
So as to claim the crown of the free.
Now if my parting has left a void,
Then fill it in with remembered pleasures.
But do not stand at my grave and weep,
For I go to a land of endless treasures.
Think of me now as the vernal rain,
See me in the stars that no one measures.
My soul flutters in the sun on ripened grain,
And whispers God's praise in the wind.
I've gone where love and joy is forever new,
And where the gentlest lights never end.
poem by Albert Price
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My Soul For The World
Like Any Poet I'm Writing Thoughts Out. Trying To Perfect My Emotions. Trying To Perfect Every Action. Trying To Perfect My Devotion. Just Feeling It Out. Another Climatic Embrace. Another Race All The Way To Top. Its One Of Those Lets See What Got. Well Its Not A Lot. But Its Me, And The Way I Want It To Be. Its Not Another Destiny. Open You Eyes And See Me For Me. Everything I Put Down Is A Reminder Of Where I Came From, What I Went Through. And Its Something I Must Hold On To. I Can Almost Smell And Taste All Of It. Its Not Another Over Active Imagination. It A Realty That's Still My Destination. There's No Cause For Celebration. Just Meditate, So You Don't Hesitate When The Time Comes. Practice Makes Perfect. Another Portrait Portrayed In Such A Way. Its Just Amazing. At A Constant Awe. So I Thank God For Every Breath I Take. A Precious Life, In A Little Place I Call Earth. Every Time I Fall Down I Have To Have Something To Pick Me Back Up. And This Is My Moment Written In Stone. I Will Never Be Alone. Memories Can't Be Forgotten. Even If They Become Stale And Start Rotting. I Was Made For A Purpose And Finding It Is My Answer. All In Or Fold. Got To Stay In Control. For Its My Soul. And I Won't Give It Up Even For The Whole World.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Be Still, My Soul, Be Still
Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,
Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.
Think rather,-- call to thought, if now you grieve a little,
The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation--
Oh why did I awake? when shall I sleep again?
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Hope Christ Gives
Many may sorrow and may grieve, but, all those who truly believe,
Have a hope beyond this place, a hope provided by God’s Grace,
When at the passing of a soul, from the earth, they become whole,
And now in Heaven and at peace, in life with God that won’t cease.
Passing from earth, filled with sins, pure life in Heaven now begins,
As the soul enters into Eternal Life; all those who trust Jesus Christ,
And Born of God, from above, as they accepted the Savior’s Love,
When He died at Calvary for them, so that they could be born again.
Made alive in Christ, never to die, though a body before us may lie,
That body is only an earthly tent, while their soul, to Heaven is sent,
To a world that they’ve never seen, a place totally pure and pristine,
Where they shall be the same, but, absent of all struggles and pain.
Now absent of all worry and fears, there’s no more crying and tears;
We may be weeping at their death, but they now have eternal breath,
They’re living now to die no more, having begun to live forevermore,
Where there will be no more night, with the Lamb being all their Light.
This Eternal Hope is for all of us, who accept as Savior Christ Jesus,
This is a Hope for all of those, who know over death Christ has rose,
This future Hope for us is assured, when we know The Lamb as Lord,
Though He died, Christ now lives; this is that Hope, our Savior gives.
(Copyright ©01/2011)
Crown Of A Poet
When my pens are all dried up
And my writing on Earth is done
I will then take off my tarnished crown
And I will hand it off to my son.
To continue the writing that I have started
As from this world I have parted.
A poet my son he will become
To reflect his life in rhyme
To bring forth beauty and wonder of himself
Which will take a never ending life.
For the last poem is like a kiss,
For one is born whenever there is a wish.
A poets pencil is his best friend
And a piece of paper is his canvas of white
To paint the words that have been unpainted
And to stir the soul and open the mind.
To bring forth again the smiles and tears,
That has been locked away for so many years.
And when my pencils have all been broken
And my writing pads are burnt in fire
I will then loose my poetry crown
As I will seek a higher power.
Where my poems will be written upon the sky
Where tears again I will never cry.
My tarnished crown will become my sons
To write on Earth what he sees best
To write during the day and at night to pray
For a poet, as he knows no rest.
For sleep does seldom ever come.
To the one whose fingers are always numbed.
And when his hands are old and tired
The Lord then will give him his sleep
For a job isn't finished until the Lord says so
But then never again will He weep.
And then my crown I will give to my son,
So the dream of ours, will never be done.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Where Is Heaven
My daughter asked me: daddy where is heaven?
I thought about this very carefully
asking myself the same question.
Then the answer came into my mind
Like a bolt of lightning.
Heaven is god, and god is heaven.
When we commit ourselves to god, body and soul
Then we are in heaven, because heaven is in us.
Yet when we fail to see what is in front of us
And what’s in our hearts, that’s when we are blind.
For god is in our hearts, and heaven is god.
Just look around at all that he has created
Then look into your heart and
see the beauties inside and out.
Why would god create the universe and the world
And not have created a heaven within us.
We are gods most beautiful creation
And he gave us his only begotten son
To show us the way to heaven.
Now many say that heaven is in infinity
and infinity has no beginning and no end.
and hell is here on earth, and some say it’s below the earth.
Now it is hard to believe that god
would make this beautiful earth as hell.
And if it was under the earth, where is the fire and brimstone
When we dig so deep into the earth searching for oil.
Heaven is in our love for god while on this earth
Then we go to his kingdom in his total heart
Where it is infinite.
This is where I see heaven my daughter.
It’s in all of us who believe in god.
poem by Louis Rams
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Shakespeare Has Left The Stage
creativity insistent demands
constant favoured
singular lip service consummated
creativity denied
moves on muted
to other receptive
minds hearts lives
insistent themes must be espoused
that which should be written
should be written into being
that which must be written
must be written into eternity
muse is insistent mistress
great works must be written
Shakespeare has left the stage
who will take up gauntlet challenge
poem by Terence George Craddock
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