The shock of being died
Their tattered bodies died
without knowing why
they were slain.
Souls ascended past their grief,
laughing in disbelief
Related quotes
Tattered & Torn
Tattered and torn
Tattered and torn
Thats where my soul is worn
Tattered and torn
Thats when I was born
Tattered and torn
I broke away from me
Tattered and torn
I knocked me to my knees
Tattered and torn
I drink my own cells
Tattered and torn
A decomposing well
Tattered and torn
Roaches in my head
Tattered and torn
I become the living dead
Tattered and torn
Tearing myself apart from the
Things that make me hurt
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows of Gettysburg
Can there be glory greater than this?
Of land consecrated, by blood and by strife.
Can there be souls- More honored than these here?
Who for their country gave supreme sacrifice.
These hills and these rocks hole mem’ries of battle
Of friendship and reverence and loss of life.
A nation divided, returning only to clash,
In an epic of pride, steel and lead.
Bloodied and tattered, grim and forlorn…
Was it for glory?
Was it for spite?
What was the message?
Was there a choice?
Answer me this, oh dim shadows!
Echoes of that time so long past.
Can you tell me what you fought and died for?
And if, knowing what has come to be,
Would you do it all over again?
poem by Megan Lacey
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Tattered and Torn
Tattered and Torn
That's where my soul is worn
Tattered and Torn
That's when I was born
Tattered and Torn
I broke away from me
Tattered and Torn
I knocked me to my knees
Tattered and Torn
I drink my own cells
Tattered and Torn
A decomposing well
Tattered and Torn
Roaches in my head
Tattered and Torn
I become the living dead
Tattered and Torn
Tearing myself apart from the
things that make me hurt
song performed by by Slipknot from Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Extasie
Sat we two, one another best,
Bodies were left; souls rose and met.
They transacted their love at best.
Struck by the sight of their bodies,
Motionless, the souls asked themselves:
‘Our bodies why so we forbear?
They are ours, though they are not we.’
We are flames and they are matter.
‘We owe them thanks because they thus
did us, to us, a first convoy
yielded their forces, senses to us.’
The souls returned to their bodies,
And declared in solemnity:
“To feel love, we live in bodies.”
29.10.2008
[ Based on the poem with the same title, written by the famous love poet John Donne 1572-1631]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Souls Of Old Men
Inside their worn, tattered bodies
sit the souls of old men.
How unhappy the poor things are
and how bored by the pathetic life they live.
How they tremble for fear of losing that life, and how much
they love it, those befuddled and contradictory souls,
sitting -half comic and half tragic-
inside their old, threadbare skins.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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It Is Good To Laugh Life Breathing
shall I tell a secret
ancient plus modern
medicine both agree upon
in differing conception principles
anger rage hate
huge energy expends
builds up toxins
attacking cells in bodies
of conflicted warped souls
bitter twisted acidic minds stomachs
destroying harmonic healing energies
sometimes the best
medicine is laughing
happiness life restoring flowing
is a good road to recovery making
hearts minds souls
soar on vibrant waves
life affirming loving embracing
laughing helps restore lost souls
it is good to laugh life breathing
I am glad you are shaking gasping laughing
even if just for a little while darkness laughter bursting
dark emotions soul body ejecting
amusement expressing tears flowing
fun enjoyment silly mad movies knowing
it all helps destroy bitter toxic cancer cells
a funny entertaining person a room soon swells
with light encompassing vibrant rippling laughter pearls
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Peace
Suddenly bells and flags!
Suddenly -- door to door --
Tidings! Can we believe,
We, who were used to war?
Yet we have dreamed her face,
Knowing her light must be,
Knowing that she must come.
Look -- she comes, it is she!
Tattered her raiment floats,
Blood is upon her wings.
Ah, but her eyes are clear!
Ah, but her voice outrings!
Soon where the shrapnel fell
Petals shall wake and stir.
Look -- she is here, she lives!
Beauty has died for her.
poem by Eleanor Agnes Lee
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Robes and Bodies
Kings, juries or priests are known by their robes.
Robes, not their bodies, demand attentions.
Souls are known by bodies they occupy.
Bodies shade souls as robes shade bodies.
(15.05.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Free Souls
Free Souls
Rise from the depths of the graves hidden way back by a thick fog of hate
Free souls
Surrender themselves to the red moon turned crimson by the blood stolen from their hearts
Free Souls
Tainted Scarlett by the filthy hands that cut their bodies like the cactus begging for moisture
Free Souls
Let out deep sad moans that make no words... moans that are harmonized by betrayal and pain
Moans who's' symphony cuts their ears like razor sharp insults...
Free Souls
Wonder in this circumference filled deep with cold dark debris... blinding them from hopes of ever seeing the morning glow....
Free Souls
Weep thick murky sewage flushed from others insecurities and selfishness
It runs down their eyes and bodies burning every hope of purity they tried to hold on too
Free Souls
Turn their bodies on all humanity as backstabbers throw rusted daggers into their backs
Laughing with disgust as they hope this will be the one way to take their freedom..
Free Souls
Fight to stand tall and peel off that layer on their bodies created by molested mouths breathing fiery words meant to burn their souls but fails as it disfigures their rotten tongues instead
Free Souls
Kneel as they become one with their bodies once again... their heart beat finds a familiar rhythm breathing life into them...
Their blinded eyes widen as their path becomes clear..
Their flesh heals from all the wounds...
Their lips move to the motion of sweet sounds manifesting from their hearts....
Their words shout out in song and praise to themselves... the waves destroying the weapons being cast at them...
Free Souls
Are are free... never to be held captive by chains inflicting sharp pain into their every being
Free Souls
Can now be FREE... free to see the morning glow
I AM NOW FREE.....
Lerato Ladyfair Shuping
January 8th 2009
poem by Lerato Shuping
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Bereavement
Do not get tired from grief as you are bereaved,
And bereavement is relief as you are bereaved.
Do certainty on the scene of writing, when all is leisure
And certain people believe in their belief as you are bereaved.
Does your mind seem a container of science and sea?
Then let feelings go, let them reside away from the thief as you are bereaved.
Does your partner know why marriage is sacred and solid?
Then see him or her with a measure of truth as the chief as you are bereaved.
May surrendering accomplish the goal of a life-time,
May I wish you all the best with your disbelief as you are bereaved.
Let Time fly, let innocence mend the tattered cloths and dress and uniform,
For when a person dies he or she is abject and very brief, as you are bereaved.
poem by Naveed Akram
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True Marriage
Your reticence speaks that all
What you never reciprocate at all.
Though you are tied with someone else,
My love is fixed and never grows less.
Marriage is a bond and a beautiful cage,
Which makes us a prisoner and a slave.
But love is a bird, O' dear, of infinite sky,
Knows no bound and flies very high.
Nuptial cord fastens only bodies, and not hearts,
Where lie our souls, the men's immortal parts.
Our body is earthly, but the soul the heaven's due;
Body lies here, but the soul with heaven does glue.
Marriage unites bodies and love unites souls;
Death is bodies' divorce, but not that of souls.
If union of souls our true marriage be,
You must admit you have betrothed to me.
Deathless is my love ye need know,
And till eternity it will glow.
poem by Rajpal Singh
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A Mothers Grief
I`m in no where land
so empty, so bland
Worst nightmare I ever had,
its so evil, so very bad.
I`m screaming loud inside,
want to run, want to hide
No sound, no tears complete disbelief,
this is me, a mothers grief.
My baby died, you see,
it means he`ll never be.
It`s still, so still so very cold,
fraining for a cry, your breath, my baby to hold.
My arms they ache, they ache in vain,
desperate to hold you so close again,
Will this nightmare of mine ever end?
this nowhere land, my broken heart mend.
My baby died you see.
it means he`ll never be
No one knows quite what he meant,
a priceless treasure not given but lent..
poem by Nikki Cuthbert
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Bon Voyage
Child of a line accurst
And old as Troy,
Bringer of best and worst
In wild alloy—
Light, like a linnet first,
He sang for joy.
Thrall to the gilded ease
Of every day,
Mocker of all degrees
And always gay,
Child of the Cyclades
And of Broadway—
Laughing and half divine
The boy began,
Drunk with a woodland wine
Thessalian:
But there was rue to twine
The pipes of Pan.
Therefore he skipped and flew
The more along,
Vivid and always new
And always wrong,
Knowing his only clew
A siren song.
Careless of each and all
He gave and spent:
Feast or a funeral
He laughed and went,
Laughing to be so small
In the event.
Told of his own deceit
By many a tongue,
Flayed for his long defeat
By being young,
Lured by the fateful sweet
Of songs unsung—
Knowing it in his heart,
But knowing not
The secret of an art
That few forgot,
He played the twinkling part
That was his lot.
And when the twinkle died,
As twinkles do,
He pushed himself aside
And out of view:
Out with the wind and tide,
Before we knew.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Lay It Down
For too long it tortured me
You see
The guilty
Is free
For too long I carried it around
And found
Was astounded
By the sound
Of breathing a sigh of relief
No grief
The thief
Made disbelief
The hallmark of my shame
And blame
The game
Always remained
But I laid down my guilt and walked away
That day
I prayed
Then stayed
Gone from the burden of the hurt
To assert
Now alert
This convert
Letting go of the guilt and pride
Held inside
Free ride
He died
To save me from the past
To everlast
Life recast
To outlast
To outlast the guilt and pride and shame and hurt which I laid down so He could take it away
poem by David Terry
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Jesus Died For Me
JESUS DIED FOR ME
WRITER HANK WILLIAMS
When (C)everything goes wrong And it (F)seems all hope is (C)gone I remember how my Savior (G7)died He (C)died there on the cross So this (F)world would not be (C)lost Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go (CHORUS) Jesus died for me long ago On a hillside far a(G7)way He was (C)tortured and slain God (F)bless His Holy (C)name Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go What pain He suffered there The (F)Holy One so (C)dear So that you and I could (G7)live I'll (C)try to repay For His (F)sufferin' on that (C)day Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go CHORUS As He hung there all alone His (F)life's blood almost (C)gone He never stopped prayin' for (G7)me So I'll (C)follow all the way And (F)live with Him some(C)day Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go CHORUS Jesus Died For Me
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby's First Journey
Lightly they hold him and lightly they sway him-
Soft as a pillow are somebody's arms.
Down he goes slowly, ever so lowly
Over the rim of the cradle they lay him-
Baby's first journey is free from alarms.
Baby is growing while Mama sings by-lo,
Sturdy and rosy and laughing and fair,
Crowing and growing past every one's knowing,
Out goes the cradle and in comes the 'high-lo,'
Baby's next journey is into this chair.
Crying or cooing or waking or sleeping,
Baby is ever a thing to adore.
Look at him yonder-oh what a wonder,
Who would believe it, the darling is creeping,
Baby's next journey is over the floor.
Sweeter and cuter and brighter and stronger,
Mama can see every day how he's grown.
Shoes are all battered, stockings all tattered,
Oh! but the baby is baby no longer
Look at the fellow-he's walking alone!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Time
Does anyone know the reason?
Has anyone deciphered the great-rhyme?
Who will stand beside me
When it comes my time for dying?
A fire, deeply burns
In those who dare try to see;
Am I in it?
Is it in me?
Quietly, something walks at my side,
What it is I cannot tell;
I'd prayed for the heights of heaven,
And feared the depths of hell.
So much we cannot know.
So much we cannot see.
Until the light burns away the bonds of darkness,
Setting our tattered souls free.
So what is the reason
Why our hearts cry
for, Who will stand up with us... the living...
When it is our turn to die?
Who can fully know?
Who can rightly explain?
ALL that is yet to be,
Before the Time comes, for our souls to understand reality.
Best now to just leave this dream alone.
Go and find another. Knowing,
Jesus is the Time. And
Jesus is my brother.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Dickie Macphalion
I went to the mill, but the miller was gone,
I sat me down, and cried ochone!
To think on the days that are past and gone,
Of Dickie Macphalion that's slain.
Shoo, shoo, shoolaroo,
To think on the days that are past and gone,
Of Dickie Macphalion that's slain.
I sold my rock, I sold my reel,
And sae hae I my spinning wheel,
And a' to buy a cap of steel
For Dickie Macphalion that's slain!
Shoo, shoo, shoolaroo,
And a' to buy a cap of steel
For Dickie Macphalion that's slain.
poem by Andrew Lang
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Take The Hill Of Life
God's Mission: Take the Hill
As terror attempts to hold and paralyze us in fear,
We need to remember that as we got to the battle front that the Lord is always here.
He holds and guards us in the palm of his hand,
The Lord asks us spread is love, and is all he asks and does not demand.
While some accept Christ and some look at us with disbelief.
We need to get out from the Church walls and tell about his ongoing grief.
Yes, His grief and the reasons for it went the pain for his wounds.
Some might see His might see his Crucifixion as a way of having zounds.
We need to need to tell and explain what is written in the His word,
So let's get out and go on the battle front of and make sure that it is heard.
That He died for us and here in us is to set us free from this terror's bondage.
And He will forgive them for their worldly terror and rage,
As long as they as forgiveness and taken a bended knee.
Then they can truly see why Christ is alive in you and me
poem by Frank Pulver
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Six Months Past
September 11th is now six months past
And the events of that day will forever last
Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago
When our safe little world we ceased to know
The flags are still flying, some weathered and worn
I hear of them cast aside, tattered and torn
But we are still fighting in that far distant land
And the reason for war, we now understand
How long it will last, we have no way of knowing
The battles that are fought, the number keeps growing
Yes, September 11th is now six months past
And the events of that day will forever last
(03/11/02)