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Voluntary Oblivion

Roaming free in voluntary oblivion
away from a life of imposed opinion.
There is not much to say,
but more to do.

Let us eradicate races
and look deeper into people's faces.
The eyes speak
and the mouth dries up the tongue sometimes.

Blindness creates worlds of words in rhymes
and once upon a time we had good times.
She sees images and experiences auditory hallucinations
she rummages to find the slightest inspiration.

There was once a loss
a terrible and tragic loss.
A traumatizing, disturbing, and shocking loss.
There was once a loss
a loss for words.

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poem by Natasha Hochar
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OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Opurtunity

Opportunity
Loss it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of a dream
Loss of a person
But what of the loss of opportunity
Opportunity for a dream
Opportunity for time with a person
Can not having the chance of loss
Be worse than loss itself
More prominent
More painful
An aching sense that if only you’d had the chance
You would at least have memories
Good
Bad
Would it matter as long as you could remember
Loss it seems is the worse kind of sorrow
But worse still is the loss of opportunity

poem by Abigail Hauschild
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Losing My Minority

To lose one’s minority
Is not a bad thing.

With the loss of minority
come untold opportunities,
The magic of the number Eighteen.

With the loss of minority
Comes the lifting of the chains
That we once called childhood.

With the loss of minority
Comes college, then work,
Credit cards and Ebay.

With the loss of minority
Come parties and booze,
Familiar faces in the evening news.

With the loss of minority

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poem by Marin Tsuikata
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Lost In A House Fire

The loss of a child
The loss of a wife
Tis all the same as the loss of your own life
The loss of house and all that's inside
Tis all the same as if your whole soul had died
The loss of temper
Loss of faith and self-control
Tis all the same as knowing you have now grown very old
The loss of all memory when all is becalmed
When you find that your wife and child all safe and unharmed

poem by Neil Milliner
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Loss of Time

A forgotten time
A forgotten society
A forgotten land
A forgotten people
A time of peace
A time of war
A time of grieving
A time of celebration
A time of loss
A loss of knowledge
A loss of dignity
A loss of loved ones
A loss of sanity
A loss of peace
A beginning of a new time
A beginning of new life
A beginning of new knowledge
A beginning of new peace
A beginning of new war
Its all a cycle

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poem by Ankoku Gekido
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Answer to loss.

Do I have an answer to loss?
Do you?

The answer to loss! ! ! ! !
I am so lucky I got to know the precious person.
I got to see their beautiful heart and their grace.
I got to enjoy their presence.
That I can treasure.and keep special in my heart.
And maybe loss is just that – loss.
But just as we have loss,
We have all the special memories
That we can keep special in our minds forever,
And that is something that will never die.
So maybe the answer to loss! ! ! is to treasure the memories
Of our loved one! !
For as long as we have a memory
We never lose! ! to loss.
Written by salma torrez.
Copyright.

poem by Salma. Torrez
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It Is Always a Loss When A Friend Is Gone

Brother Jackson died a few moons ago. It is a loss.
It is a finale; it is the final curtain.
Everyday is a loss, tomorrow is uncertain.
Take several deep breaths, do as many toasts
That your heart and soul desire.

Stare at the moon, walk in the sun, play in the rain, and admire
The trees, the plants, the leaves and the flowers.
Smile with, wave at, and chat with your neighbors.
Everyday is a loss; sweet moments move quicker than the thieves
Of Penzance. Appreciate and enjoy every second of the day.

The Cardiologist is in jail; it is a loss
For our community. There no winners,
Only losers. Life is short and precious.
Enjoy the plains, the mounts, the valleys and the rivers;
Never be vindictive and malicious.

It is always a loss, when you examine it deeply.
There are no winners, only losers.

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poem by Hebert Logerie (07 November 2011)
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The Iron Cross

THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.

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poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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With Each Memory Drained

With each memory drained
I feel better
I write another letter
But never the same
Not as I once was
If only because
The loss of love matters not that much
I keep telling myself

What was her name
I think I already forgot.
A remembrance that matters not
Is it really the now that you got?
Grab hold
Squeeze till it never stops
Like a heart dieing
I must try harder, harder

With each memory drained
I feel better

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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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