Nature-The Fate
on a spring day,
i walked on my way.
i admired the nature,
i didn't think my future.
i didn't know when i die,
i lie under a tree looking at the sky.
an ambulance went on the way,
i felt and say.
a birth don't know its death,
a death don't know its next birth.
it is nature,
the fate only knows our future.
poem by Vsgk Vasanth
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The Goddess Of Nature Will Be Living On
When all who live now to the reaper have gone
The Goddess of Nature will be living on
Like the Seasons the generations of people they come and they go
But Nature's own Goddess of death will never know,
When i am not here in some future Spring
The pee wee in the old Town Parkland will sing
And where wild things do live and where wildflowers abound
The Goddess of Nature she is to be found,
The stillness of death awaits you and i
But the Goddess of Nature she will never die
The beauty she creates all around us to see
And her birds chirp and whistle on shrub, bush and tree
And she has inspired writers to story and rhyme
The Goddess of Nature who does not age in time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Fighting Death
Death follows birth; does birth follow birth?
Birth to death, journeys have ups and down.
What is the status between death and birth?
Why must you fight death if no-rebirth is bliss?
(15.03.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The wit and the fate
Can the wit win the fate? A great debate.
Wit is cause and fate is its result.
Can the cause win its result?
It is like the birth winning the death.
Fate is beyond one’s perception,
Which is known when it’s happened.
What has happened is coined as fate.
‘this is an art which does mend Nature.
… the art itself is Nature.’*
*The Winter’s Tale’ Act iv, seen iv
19.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Birth and death
.
Death is certain for birth.
Is birth certain for death?
Post-birth is pre-death.
It is like go around and return.
Post-death is pre-birth.
It is like stay and remain.
Birth and death is better
Than no birth at all
23.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Death And Birth
Death and birth should dwell not near together:
Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
Death and birth.
Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether
Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth:
Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
Death and birth.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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Didnt Know
Didn't know what you had
Until you lost it
Didn't know what you own
Until you got it
Didn't know of your sins
Until you fought it.
Didn't know what you needed
Until you sought it.
Didn't know your lies
Until someone spoke them
Didn't know of the truth
Until someone wrote them
Didn't remembered your dreams
Until someone awoke them
Didn't know they died
Until someone chocked them.
Didn't know you had guilt
Until you cried
Didn't know you felt sadness
Until you tried to hide
Didn't know you felt shame
Until you lied
Didn't know you believed in GOD
Until you asked him why.
Didn't know you felt sorrow
Until you shed a tear
Didn't know that you were scared
Until I saw your fear
Didn't know that you hated
Until you were near
Didn't know that you were unhappy
Until you looked in a mirror.
Didn't know who you truly were
Until your ways you sewed
Didn't know that you were evil
Until the truth was showed
Didn't know you did this before
Until I saw all of your woe
Didn't know who you really were
Though I wished then I did know.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A Country Path in Late Spring
The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming down
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.
And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.
Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.
Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.
Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Country Walking
I walked a league and o'er the moor;
I walked and walked as ne’er before,
And on to walk from dale to hill
And on again to claim the thrill.
Behold! that walking does for me:
The senses heightened, mind of glee,
While rolling vistas pass me by
To swell the heart, enthrall the eye.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Wintermoon
Under stars,
under sky,
I will walk,
my path and fate.
Wathing the moon,
the ghostly light,
enchanted by its beauty.
I will walk forever on,
knowing that past is past,
and future is future.
Life is only lived in the present.
I will walk,
in winter, spring, summer and autumm,
watching the moon,
enchanted by its beauty.
I walk down the path of spring,
knowing my fate awaits,
I'm walking the path of life.
I walk the path of summer,
looking at the sun,
warmed by the sun,
I'm alive and growing,
nature is part of me.
I walk the path of autumm,
seeing the prey of death,
beautiful coulours of the fiery soul,
striving to live once again.
Once future, now the base of knowledge,
THE future.
I walk down the path of winter,
looking at the wintersky,
bewitched by the wintermoon,
so clean,
so beautiful,
and yet so cold.
I will live in the present,
walking towards the future,
while this life of mine is build upon the past.
The past is me,
I'm the past, the present and the future.
Sonnet: Some Things Will Happen
Who can prevent the fury of Nature?
Who can prevent the clouds from raining down?
Who can prevent God’s pre-destined future?
Who can prevent the artiste turning clown?
Who stops a fruit from ripening in less days?
Who stops the ripened fruit from falling down?
Who stops a seed from sprouting in one place?
Who stops the grass from being daily mown?
Some things in Nature happen so early;
Some things in Nature fail to happen right;
Some things in Nature happen finally;
Who brings the clouds that block the good Moonlight?
There is a time for death and every birth;
There is a time for everything on earth.
poem by John Celes
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The Birth of Spring
The Birth of Spring
By: Adam M. Snow
A birth of Spring brings flowers bloom,
A beauty that reigns from nature's womb;
Bringing forth a new day of yore;
A beauty that reigns forevermore.
Heaving the life of nature to nature,
As the world within matures.
The flowers blooms ever so gracefully,
A Spring sunshine O' so blissfully.
The life of Spring so frail and gentle,
Like a rose or that of lentil.
It is evermore so sweet to wonder,
The scent of Spring would sunder.
And by the night, the stars glisten be,
Spring at it's glory, a song decrees.
A melody so sweet and peaceful to be heard;
The calming voice of nature's word,
That glistens the wind and flowers alike,
Flowing 'gainst the wind like a shrike.
She dance with a melody,
Like a wild felidae;
The petals of roses flows the wind.
I stand here in awe of nature's friend.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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To mourn the death?
Leaving home for school is a death.
Leaving school for service is a death.
Retiring from service is a death.
Every parting is a death.
Every meeting is a birth
Every death leads you to a birth.
Every birth leads thus to a death.
As many entrances as there are exits,
Till the arrival of corporal death,
Beyond which we have no evidence
17.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Blinded by Ignorance
We are blinded by ignorance
There is no such credence or importance
Even child is not clean at the time of birth
It known lately that there is even death
What we have in our mind is pretty foolishness?
What we are today without grace from holiness?
Man is zero without any clue from almighty
It is senseless argument and simple pity
Man has only adjusted to his greed
Otherwise there was absolutely no need
To spoil the holy core of nature
As today we find unsecured future
Science no doubt is an advancement
But needs many changes with comments
It has helped less and harmed more
Many upheavals in natural set up when explored
Not a single place is germ free
It is like Deep Ocean and fruit laden tree
We can pick from there and utilize
Nature is cure and we are readily obliged
Every object has an inevitable end
Nature and its object must be treated as friend
Nature is friendly and our life line
No other source or theory can afford to side line
Ignorance of law can’t be termed as success
Nature has still denied some of the access
What have we done to preserve nature and cure?
Thank God nature is kind enough to endure
We have spared no efforts to ruin the nature
Everything has been taken for sure
Reason being today flood havocs and earth quakes
Volcano eruptions, bush fires and untimely deaths
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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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Squirrel my little friend!
I watch your jumps from tree to tree
with that bushy tail
And your song I try to understand
If I write this way
Is it okay?
Man raises his bony hands and questions
from the dumb sky of his future?
Sky's helpless as she cannot stop the clouds
that wander here & there?
Man tries to hide his wealth in the river
But river flows to the sea ever?
Man sketches his sky scrapers
But nobody stays here and his offspring
fly everywhere when they grown up
Leaving the old sick parents there?
a humble dedication to my poet friend Narain j.p!
A Buddhist faces death not as a crisis in life but as a normal event, for he knows that whoever is born must suffer, 'decay', and ultimately die. Or, as someone so aptly puts it, 'Everyone is born with the certificate of death at his birth.' If we could all look at death such an intelligent and rational way, we would not cling to life so tenaciously.
'Ayamantima jatinatthidani punabbhavo'
This is my final birth and there is no more rebirth for me.
(Dhamma Cakka Sutta) . -The Buddha
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Fate of a votary is written by God
Fate of a votary is written by God
Can it be changed now and then?
No, it can not be changed by men,
Regarding fate none is ready to nod,
If a baby is born to a rich person,
That baby becomes a rich man in life,
Then he marries to a wealthy wife,
What about the fate of a poor man’s son?
Every fate depends upon NATURE,
By Nature a rich to a poor is addressed,
Nature also brightens a poor son’s future,
ON the mercy of Lord a fate is stressed,
Nature can make a hill to a creature,
If God likes, it can be changed or redressed.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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Whisper on my neck
Passion in your Kiss
I
Can
Say
This I felt the passion in your kiss that I remained speechless!
And the hairs on my skin stood up attention because your lips stop my next move that I wanted to curse and birth four letter words at first but I didn't, I didn't, I didn't! ! ! ! ! !
I looked in your eyes and you kiss my neck that I broke out in a sweat because every part of my body became hot, hot like the heat in a fire because of the passion that was behind your Lips that slowly walked around my neck like it was a whisper in my ear!
poem by Clarence Williams
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