The Bell Rings
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Valentine's love song chimes unheard in the ears of the pained.
They walk in stuffy, dry lines behind the moving pyre.
Why are they afraid to cry? Tradition dictates
Happiness.
They are moving to
The next world.
But no one laughs and coincidentally
No one cries
As the slow snake of despair slithers silently to the side of the stream.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Once a partnership expressed in words, now in emotion.
On this day we have opposites. The smoke rises from the bank
And every man has his head bowed. Every woman out of purile
RESPECT veils their face with mourning.
There
is
a
chain which is now broken.
There was love, there was a song,
Sung by the air, now full of smoke and flames,
Surged by the winds, now carrying her ashes
Now there is sadness and death.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
The lotus trees dip over the side of the river where we used
To meet. There are two spaces on the grass were we sat.
They are empty now. The petals float away, carrying your memories
As the smoke in the air.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
poem by Alex Sigston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When the playtime (recess) bell rings
When the playtime bell rings, it's time to cease fun,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to grow up,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to get serious.
When the factory whistle blows it's time to roll sleeves up,
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to pay bills
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to forego rebellious thought
When the church bells chime, it's time for commitment,
when the church bells chime, it's time to make plans
when the church bells chime, it's time to make compromise
When the death knoll tolls, it's time for regrets
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for rethinking
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for peace
poem by Jason Jackson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Death death death death death death death death death
The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.
O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.
Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Princess
Death of a Princess
Transparent, on top of a knoll
she stood the most famous woman
in the western world.
She tried to get down, could not
addicted to fame she had become.
Lightning struck, a torn newspaper
creation.
Ten million flowers sacrificed.
Her brother built her a shrine, in
the middle of a man-made lake,
pay the entrance fee and you just
might, on a clear day, see her shadow
walk on water.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Mole Part One
In seinem Garten freudevoll
Geht hier ein Gärtner namens Knoll.
Doch seine Freudigkeit vergeht,
Ein Maulwurf wühlt im Pflanzenbeet.
Schnell eilt er fort und holt die Hacke,
Daß er den schwarzen Wühler packe.
Jetzt ist vor allem an der Zeit
Die listige Verschwiegenheit.
Aha! Schon hebt sich was im Beet,
Und Knoll erhebt sein Jagdgerät.
Schwupp! Da - und Knoll verfehlt das Ziel.
Die Hacke trennt sich von dem Stiel.
Das Instrument ist schnell geheilt;
Ein Nagel wird hineingekeilt.
Und wieder steht er ernst und krumm
Und schaut nach keiner Seite um.
A gardener by the name of Knoll
Goes for a joyful garden stroll.
His joyfulness, however, sours:
A mole is digging up the flowers.
He hurries off to fetch the hoe.
That old black burrower must go!
Instead of hit-or-miss aggression,
This problem calls for sly discretion.
Ah! Something's stirring in the patch,
And Knoll stands ready for the catch.
Take that! - And Knoll has missed his goal.
The hoe's asunder, not the mole.
The tool is mended without fail
By firmly wedging in a nail.
Again he's lurking, grave and bent,
Ignoring his environment.
poem by Wilhelm Busch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, Death And Death
I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.
I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.
I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Death death death death death
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Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mole Part Two
Klabumm! - So krieg die Schwerenot! -
Der Nachbar schießt die Spatzen tot.
Klaboom! - Enough to lose one's head! -
The neighbour's shooting sparrows dead.
Doch immerhin und einerlei!
Ein Flintenschuß ist schnell vorbei.
But, anyhow and all the same!
The shooting's over. Knoll takes aim.
Schon wieder wühlt das Ungetier.
Wart! denkt sich Knoll. Jetzt kommen wir.
The monster's burrowing once more.
This is what Knoll's been waiting for.
Er schwingt die Hacke voller Hast -
Radatsch! - O schöner Birnenast!
Quite hastily he swings the hoe -
The pear tree's there to catch the blow.
Die Hacke ärgert ihn doch sehr,
Drum holt er jetzt den Spaten her.
The hoe's no good in times of need;
His trusty spade will do the deed.
Nun, Alter, sei gescheit und weise
Und mache leise, leise, leise!
Old boy, be silent, not a breath!
Let stealth and cunning be his death.
Schnarräng! - Da tönt ihm in das Ohr
Ein Bettelmusikantenchor.
Shnarrang! A din assaults his ear;
A band of street musicians 's here.
Musik wird oft nicht schön gefunden,
Weil sie stets mit Geräusch verbunden.
Music is always noise-related
And often not appreciated.
poem by Wilhelm Busch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, My Salvation
Death, the never-ending blackness,
From where comes no man back
It is to this emptiness
That my heart calls out to me.
Death, the blissful deliverance,
Where each of us pay our debt
It is time that I paid
A visit to my banker
Death, the final frontier
A place unrestrained
It is to this freedom
That my will hails me to go.
Death, my shadow
A shadow, with me day and night
Come rain or sun, happiness or sadness
It never leaves my side.
Death, my only friend,
My only salvation
poem by Arun George
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The Mole Part Three
Kaum ist's vorbei mit dem Trara,
So ist der Wühler wieder da.
When all is quiet, as before,
The burrower appears once more.
Schnupp! dringt die Schaufel wie der Blitz
Dem Maulwurf unter seinen Sitz.
Knoll thrusts his spade and, doing so,
Attacks the creature from below.
Und mit Hurra in einem Bogen
Wird er herauf ans Licht gezogen.
Hoorah! And in a graceful arc
The mole emerges from the dark.
Aujau! Man setzt sich in den Rechen
Voll spitzer Stacheln, welche stechen.
Ow yow! The rake, a prickly thing,
When sat upon, is known to sting.
Und Knoll zieht für den Augenblick
Sich schmerzlich in sich selbst zurück.
Knoll, in the face of perforation,
Withdraws in painful contemplation.
Schon hat der Maulwurf sich derweil
Ein Loch gescharrt in Angst und Eil.
Meanwhile, the apprehensive mole
Makes haste to dig himself a hole.
Doch Knoll, der sich emporgerafft,
Beraubt ihn seiner Lebenskraft.
But Knoll, arisen, fierce and brave,
Annihilates the digging knave.
Da liegt der schwarze Bösewicht
Und wühlte gern und kann doch nicht;
Denn hinderlich, wie überall,
Ist hier der eigne Todesfall.
Here lies the scoundrel, sleek and sable.
He'd rather dig, but he's unable.
It does not suit him in the least
To be so suddenly deceased.
poem by Wilhelm Busch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Shall Not
Death, they say
will take everyone away
but there are things it could never take
even if life was at stake
death shall not remove your laugh which still rings in my ears
death shall not erase your face with your smiles and your tears
death shall not take those years
death shall not cut off those endless walks
death shall not wipe out those honest talks
those shy looks it could not steal
only god knows how i feel
god, sorry those words are fake
but my sorrow is your mistake
well, who am i fooling
death has taken everything from me
since it has taken you
For these things surely remain
But somehow i know they will never happen again.
Mark R. Slaughter
Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty
And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation
Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy
They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes
I rot
(They fade)
To be the plant
(They'll water)
I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter
Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind
That I of soul
Remain eternal
Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot
Flirts like a ballerina
STOPS
Wonders of the world
My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future
I'll wait
For his appraisal
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012
A Trail of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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Death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Peach Knoll
Peach Knoll
A poem diffused in mid air, and the fog
to dropp off; to honor skies was our call,
attending a vow; there I recall our song,
comely ode, to recreate on Peach Knoll;
Up there we walked; O, so many stories
to recount; every detail was accurate,
amidst the trees, under a nightly Aries,
so many feelings, a night cold to equate.
How many trips we described in acuity,
and ports we reached in paths oceanic,
with our glary eyes staring to continuity,
and my nautical departure to Atlantic;
There we stayed; amidst the night trees,
our images to ascend a dream sceptic,
in trustful years, it was a simple breeze,
caressing vows, and your smile esthetic..
January night 't was, under an icy drizzle;
my leather jacket upon your shoulders
you denied, folded it, amidst the mizzle,
we both felt this vow, as it grew colder;
...................................
I walked uphill, at night, on twenty first,
similar drizzle to salute me, and to extoll
our song, as I walked on time reversed,
recalling your rainy smile, on Peach Knoll.
Copyright © - G. V.- 02.11.2012
/ PoemH 29822354
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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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