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I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.

Virginia Woolf in Diary (17 February 1922)
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Related quotes

Breaking The Law

There I was completely wasting, out of work and down
All inside its so frustrating as I drift from town to town
Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die
So I might as well begin to put some action in my life
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
So much for the golden future, I cant even start
Ive had every promise broken, theres anger in my heart
You dont know what its like, you dont have a clue
If you did youd find yourselves doing the same thing too
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
You dont know what its like
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law

song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Remorse

No mercy for what we are doing
No thought to even what we have done
We don't need to feel the sorrow
No remorse for the helpless one

War without end
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath
No remorse No repent
We don't care what it meant
Another day Another death
Another sorrow Another breath

Blood feeds the war machine
as it eats its way across the land
We don't need the feel the sorrow
No remorse is the one command

Only the strong survive
No one to save the weaker race
We are ready to kill all comers
Like a loaded gun right at your face

Attack
Bullets are flying
People are dying
with madness surrounding all hell's breaking loose
Soldiers are hounding
Bodies are mounting
cannons are shouting to take their abuse
With war machines going
Blood starts to flowing
No mercy given to anyone hear
The furious fighting
Swords are like lighting
It all becomes frightening to you
Know death is near
No remorse

song performed by by Metallica from Kill 'Em All
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Hell Breaks Loose (Lyrics)

Walls start closing in around you
My twins of evil
They shake you by the collarbone
Then snap your ribcage

And broken bodies in a death rock dance hall
Please be my partner
Eyeballs pop, accellerated blood beat
Veins `a' shaking

And all hell breaks loose
Yea, evil is as evil does and who
Yea, who but me could write this book of cruel

I send my murdergram
To all these monster kids
It comes right back to me and it's
Signed in there parents' blood

And all hell breaks loose
Yea, my heart is a-breaking loose
Yea, my whole world's breaking loose
Yea, and evil is as does and who
Yea, but who but me could write this book of cruel

I send my murdergram
To all these monster kids
It comes right back to me and it's
Signed in their parents blood
And broken bodies in a death rock dance hall
Please be my partner
And eyeballs pop, accellerated blood beat
Veins a-shaking

And all hell breaks loose
Yea, my heart is a-breaking loose
Yea, my whole world's breaking loose
Yea, evil is as evil does and who
Yea, but who but me could write this book of cruel

I said my whole world's breaking loose
Yea, my whole world's breaking loose
Yea, my whole world's breaking loose
Yea, my whole world's breaking
All hell breaks loose

poem by Satan's Sibling
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Writers Are Born Not Made

Ocean is dry
And fount not secreting
Wind still rove the dry land
In its usual way
I want to write
Everything in me want to write
Even though ocean is dry
And fog too thick i can't see remote place
I must write
I must make thess two lovers
Starring at each otherexpressionlessly
Make love to yield readables
Writers are born not made
Writers write and write
When ocean overflow its limit
When ocean overdry that feet could
Navigate the way of ships
Writers write and write
For is in them to write.

poem by Alade Abayomi IdrisWhite
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Through My Eyes

Leaving through the back door
Freezing in the cold
Communication breakdown
Emotional overload
Been through a wall of fire
Now I feel like, the ashes glow
Cars passing on the freeway
My mind is on the run
I keep running from my shadow
Im not the only one
Somewhere in the distance
Someones taking flight
Destination unknown
Just fade into the light
Theres so much said and done
But after all
The time has come, to leave it all
Behind
If you could see it through my eyes
Yous know I tried to change it all
Ive been trying all my life
To stand up every time I fall
If you could see it through my eyes
I feel sadness up my spine
The future on my hands
Im standing here alone
With open arms again
Tomorrow aint no stranger
Therell be a lucky star
And love will find its way
Into someones heart
Too late for tears
No time to be confused
Its just the echo of our
Swan song
If you could see it through my eyes
Yous know I tried to change it all
Ive been trying all my life
To stand up every time I fall
If you could see it through my eyes
Youd see that love will always wait
Somewhere out there is my life
A new love that comes my way
If you could see it through my eyes
Through my eyes
What was meant to be forever
Is breaking all apart
What was meant to be forever
Leaves the hole inside my heart
What was meant to be forever
We throw it all away
What was meant to be forever
Was nothing but a game
What was meant to be forever
Is breaking all apart
What was meant to be forever

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Scene After Dinner....

an empty drinking glass
falls from the hand of the house
help,

it breaks on the floor into
pieces

we hear the sound of the breaking
the shattering

we do not mind, drinking glasses break
the sound is usual and we do not

ever dare to ask why as we are busy
with our usual business

i am reading a book, you are rendering
an accounting on a yellow paper

the guest is preoccupied with the internet
booking for a ticket back home

there is another sound of breaking
that is not evident to everyone in the house

that evening after dinner
and suddenly there is a blackout of the whole island

it is hot, and humid and we perspire
we do not complain, as there is no use

we hear the sound of a breaking as loud as
a nuclear bomb in Hirosma as a documentary film

in National Geographic, we suffer, silently,
we are becoming deaf, we do not mind anymore.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Insurrection

insurrection...
or just the pot boiling over,
the plant breaking through the gound,
the leaf bursting from the bud,
the wind breaking down the door.
light breaking through the darkness,
the body breaking free of bonds.
the spirit breaking from the body,
the truth breaking from the silence.
hope breaking from despair,
caring breaking from the calloused....
the individual breaking from the crowd.
the many breaking from the few,
the man breaking from enslavement.
the pot boiling over...
be careful!
you'll burn your hand!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where I Am/ I Cannot Write

WHERE I AM/ I CANNOT WRITE

Where I am
I cannot write-
The words come
But what do they say?

Time is not the Weariness
Death is-

Death reminds us
That we with all our illusions
Will have this one moment only –

I am yes afraid
And even more in Despair-

Death is making no exception for me
And my little life is passing like a dream.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Proposition

You cant have the flower without the root
You cant have the fire without the soot
Even a stripper needs her red tasseled suit
And we were meant to be
In every war the north needs the south
And everyone knows all assholes have a mouth
Without mystery what would writers talk about
And we were meant to be
An apple needs pits the way melons need seed
Your foot needs your arm and your arm needs your knee
And one of these days I know you will need me
We were meant to be, ooohhh, we were meant to be
Youre mothers an ogre your fathers a scamp
You wont see my parents honored on any stamp
But just like a bulb screws into a lamp
We were meant to be
The way the aids needs a vaccine, somewhere a vaccine needs
Aids, the way a victim needs life, a life needs to be saved
And out of all of this will come a better way
We were meant to be
So you can go to europe, los angeles or mars
You can stand on a building throwing cinder blocks on cars
You can practice deep voodoo, but like me youll see
We were meant to be, we were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fighting With Usual Ones

Usual cravings, as usual,
Come to me in plural.

For not enough defense,
For over offensive bad,
Shall I lose this pretty math?

Nothing I hate more than usual ones.

Like November that needs only December
To end one year,
Shall I give up my intense desire?

Together with usual theory,
To get the pass-mark solitary,
Should I sit this exam blowzy?

If there were a right map of life,
I would avoid those with unusual might.

But now, by riding a horse neither male nor female,
Shall I keep acting as a character stray?

I don't wanna be a king in usual custom paragon.
I don't wanna ascend already used throne.

If your heart is not new,
If your love is blue,
You will fail my interview.

Let my loner life live along
Instead of being in usual crowd.
My heart wishes unusual heartbeat sound.

poem by Aung Si Myanmar
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Why Do I Write

I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go

I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain

At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down

I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it

I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am

poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Not So Usual

This is the most unusual story, of a most unusual girl
she's the paint in my picture, of a most unusual world
she can crawl out the frame while shes hanging on the wall
and shes calling my name
shes not so usual, wo
shes most unusual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes mostly a ghost, the way she watches over me
she complains when I smoke, but then you do the same to me
shes controlling my brain activity, knowing when i go to sleep
she'll catch you when I'm falling hard
shes so unusual
shes not so usual
shes not so usual
shes so unusual
shes not so hooked on the drugs like I thought that she was
and never sucking on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine
and dispite of her bipolar rollercoastering
I think I can trust, she'll keep me singing differently
and its fine cause shes with me now, most all of the time
trying to saving my life, thinking none of her own
and always kissing me goodnight when i just need to be alone
shes so sweet, so discrete, shes exactly what I need
not even make believe
shes not so usual
so unusual
shes not so usual
so unusual
not so usual, and not to practical either
but shes not so mystical, but not to magical either
but shes not so outta control, and not so used to the flow
shes not so usual
nah, shes a natural
ohhh, shes not so usual
shes most unusual
shes so unusual
shes so unusual
shes gonna use me ohhh
shes not so u...
shes not so u...
not so u...
not so....

song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Death

'Death is our eternal companion,' Don Juan said with a most serious air. 'It is always to our left, at an arm's length . . . It has always been watching you. It always will until the day it taps you.'
-Carlos Castaneda

My death
looks exactly like me.
She lives to my left,
at exactly an arm's length.
She has my face, hair, hands;
she ages
as I grow older.

Sometimes, at night,
my death awakens me
or else appears in dreams
I did not write.
Sometimes a sudden wind
blows from nowhere,
& I look left
& see my death.

Alive, I write
with my right hand only.
When I am dead,
I shall write with my left.

But later I will have to write
through others.
I may appear
to future poets
as their deaths.

poem by Erica Jong
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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.

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death Is a Mockery of Life

Death is a mockery of life
They who have lived it through, are dead
So what about death can be said
It lingers in the living room after the funeral

They who have lived it through are dead
We do not speak of death too much
It lingers in the living room after the funeral
We try not to think about the lonely grave

We do not speak of deah too much
It is always raining in the grave yard
We try not to think about the lonely grave
Where no one seems to be, but only was

It is always raining in the grave yard
Some flowers grow between the tombstones
As nature doesn’t care about it, live or death
Just carry on as usual

Some flowers grow between the tombstones
So what about death can be said
Just carry on as usual
Death is a mockery of life

poem by Ina SchrodersZeeders
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Self- Annihilation

The other side of life behind the barbed
future
where they were seeking gratifications,
I was entering the past, without pretention.

Time will cleanse the mutation. I will
be breaking the god’s boundaries. A theme
of nobility has lot of troubles.
If I were poaching on death, that was unintentional,
life seeks a revenge on being denied
a place in sun. I will drink my own
pain.
My ashes are not meant for praise
They are to be strewn around on hills
whom I could not climb.

Only the fragrance of wild flowers will
bring back that cool goodbye.

poem by Satish Verma
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As Usual

The sun was shining…
The breeze was blowing
As usual

The day was dawning
The dusk was falling…
As usual

The people were brisking
The people were frisking
As usual

You died.
My heart was grieving.
It was Durga Puja.
They were celebrating
As usual

(Dedicated to Steve Jobs. I miss him…)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Black Bordered Letter

An’ SO ’e’s dead in London,
An’ answered to the call,
An’ trotted through the Long Street,
With ’earse an’ plumes an’ all?
We was village boys an’ brothers—
We was warm as we could be,
In the milk-walk an’ the fried fish,
Up in London, ’im an’ me.
We was warm,
We was warm,
As we ’ad always been;
We never ’ad a dry word
Till she come between.

I lived round Windsor Terrace,
An’ ’im across the wye,
An’ when I sailed a emigrant
We never said good-bye!
He wos better than a brother—
Wot you Bushmen call a mate.
(Did he reach the rylwye stytion,
As they told me, just too late!)

We was warm,
We was warm,
As pals was ever seen;
We never ’ad a dry word
Till she come between.

I meant to go back ’ome again,
I meant to write to-night;
I meant to write by every mail,
But I thought ’e oughter write.
An’ now ’e’s left North London—
For a better place, perhaps—
She’s flauntin’ in ’er widder weeds,
With eyes on other chaps.

We was warm,
We was warm,
As we ’ad always been;
We never ’ad a dry word
Till she come between.

Oh! tongues is bad in wimmin,
When wimmin’s tongues is bad!
For they’ll part men an’ brothers
World oceans wide, my lad!
There was seven years between us,
An’ fifteen thousand mile,
An’ now there’s death an’ sorrer
For ever an’ awhile.

We was warm,
We was warm,
As two was ever seen;
We never ’ad a dry word
Till she come between.

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Other Greener Pasture

that is the usual case
when you look over the fence that you just built
your eyes gaze to the other side
greener than yours
i mean, the grass, not the greenness of your iris
if you could have built a higher fence
so that you can narrow your gaze
within the four corners of your walls
and live this life that is all yours to own
you could have been happier here

but life is not meant to be
just that
four walls, a higher fence, taking all that come
sitting down
and breathing the air inside
the lungs
which until now have not seen the
rays of the sun

play the game
climb a tree
try jumping over your fences

it is only then when
you realize
that after all
your grass has always been
greener
your air more fresh
your fence most stable.

after all you got a poodle
a rose, a butterfly, a bird,

and this PC
that knows how to write poetry.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Immortal Death

How do I write with bliss of death?
I'm sure you know exactly how.
But heres an explanation.
Told with blood upon my brow.

See, a man devotes his life.
To acts of kindness, peace, and love.
Extraordinary selflessness.
Laced with the light above.

But the wings of death do shroud his good.
Into a formless haze.
Immortal Death removes his hood.
Attracting mankind's gaze.

Even that righteous man now understands.
The ambiguity in his eyes.
The bravest stayed, and cowards ran.
Fearing certain demise.

Why do I write with bliss of death?
Respect of death destroys fear.
On my deathbed, perhaps I'll smile.
As he whispers in my ear.

poem by Aaron Lynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Related quotes

Breaking The Law

No Remorse

All Hell Breaks Loose (Lyrics)

Writers Are Born Not Made

Through My Eyes

A Scene After Dinner....

Insurrection

Where I Am/ I Cannot Write

The Proposition

Fighting With Usual Ones

Why Do I Write

Not So Usual

My Death

Disingenuousness

Death Is a Mockery of Life

Self- Annihilation

As Usual

The Black Bordered Letter

The Other Greener Pasture

Immortal Death

En.Citatepedia^®.ro