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Death Poems

snugglebuck
snugglebuck
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1864


FROZEN IN LOVE

Tonight as I write, from my cozy Minnesota condo, it is currently -50 Fahrenheit outside.  All schools have been canceled and the mail delivery has been suspended. Currently it is colder here then it is at the South Pole. I fear how many people will be found frozen to death by morning. For seldom does such a cold snap not leave casualties in its wake.  Which reminds me of a particular tragedy that took place, when I was a young boy, in my rural home town of Somerset Wisconsin.

Somerset Wisconsin was a small village located about 40 miles east of Minneapolis Minnesota. Today, the burbs have overtaken it, consequently Somerset is much larger then it was when I was young.  It sits right near the beautiful St. Croix River that borders Wisconsin from Minnesota.  To find Somerset’s exact location on a state map of the United States is quite easy.  The shape of Wisconsin makes the task simple.  The western border is marked in the perfect profile of a Native American chief.  Somerset is located right where his lips intersect. Legend has it, that Somerset was located there because all the hard drinking lumberjacks needed a place to ‘wet their lips.’

Indeed Somerset, which has the small Apple River running through it, before merging with the mighty St. Croix, was a party town famous for river tubing tourists, who loved to drink and raise a little Hell.   But the citizens of Somerset were quite the opposite.  Conservative and very religious, they fell into two distinct ethnic groups; French Canadian Roman Catholics and Scandinavian Lutherans.  I was a member of the latter.  

Despite these differences, all were a part of a single tight knit community.  There was little or no segregation or discrimination between the two groups except in one area; dating between members of the different religious sects was strictly frowned upon at the point of being prohibited.  

But the late 60’s and 70’s brought great change to Somerset as it had to all of the United States.  Traditions and conventions were being questioned and challenged which is why that it was no one’s surprise that the nicest Lutheran boy, and the sweetest Catholic girl, became high school sweethearts.  Because they were both such good kids, their parents, despite some reservations, gave them permission to make a date for the Winter Carnival dance.  

As fate would have it, the night of the dance, was one of the coldest on record.  But the folks from Somerset were a hardy lot, and a little inclement weather wasn’t going to stop them.  The dance went off wonderfully, all attendees had a great time culminating with the mixed religion sweetheart couple being crowned king and queen of the carnival.  Everyone remembers them kissing right after the coronation.  Soon they vanished from the happy scene.  It was the last time alive they’d ever be seen.  

For after the dance, the young couple scored a six-pack of Hamm’s beer and went parking.  That’s when it all went wrong.  Looking back, I blame it all on the Hamm’s beer.

Both sets of parents notified authorities when they realized their children were late getting home. A search was immediately organized but they couldn’t be found.  Rumors that the young lovers had eloped had already begun, but the gossip was dashed when about noon the next day, they were found on a secluded farm lane.  In the seat of the young man’s old Chevy pickup they were discovered frozen solid in each other’s arms.  It was evident, that whilst making love, they had succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning and froze after the idling pickup ran out of gas.  

After the Somerset Volunteer Fire Department removed the frozen couple from the pickup, they were taken to the township’s heated garage and placed on a large oak table to thaw out.  Nude, and in loving embrace, one of the fireman commented on how their glistening frozen bodies reminded him a beautiful marble renaissance statue.  Yet, for decency sake, they were covered with a blanket.

Soon both pairs of parents arrived.  Already notified of their passing, all four were inconsolable. Father Rivard was present for emotional support and said a brief prayer before the shrouded couple but was muffled by the wail of lamentations.

Suddenly the mother of the girl demanded hysterically to see her daughter. “I want to see my baby, now!”

“I’d strongly advice against it,” the fire chief warned.

“NO” she screamed!  “I want to see her now!”  

So, the county corner relented, grabbing the blanket by a corner, with one tug the naked couple was exposed in the position of coitus.  

“Damn your son,” the girl’s mother shrieked at the boy’s parents. “Look at what he’s doing to my daughter!”

“And your little Miss Perfect isn’t doing anything to him,” the son’s mother shouted back?  

“Separate them now” the girl’s mother ordered.  “I don’t want her in his arms a second longer.”

“Well Mam, that isn’t going to be easy considering their both frozen solid together,” the fire chief warned.

“I don’t care, release her from that animal’s grip, immediately,” she demanded!  Suddenly a shouting match ensued between the deceased teens’ parents.  

Sensing that things were getting out of control the fire chief ordered two of his men to take pry bars and try and separate the young lovers.  The firemen mounted the oak table and were able to place their heavy tools between the young lovers.  As they began pulling in opposite directions, a loud sound like peeling adhesive became audible, silencing arguing parents.  They became, like everyone else in the garage, transfixed by the process.

Realizing that they were becoming separated, both firemen paused to take a deep breath.  Then with a heavy heave, each simultaneously excreted a tremendous effort and pulled on their pry bars.

“CRACK!”  The sound signaled the separation of the lovers’ bodies.  All was quiet for a second till, “clink, clunk, clunk, and crack.   The young man’s broken penis had broken off, rolled across the table and on to the floor.  All was completely silent as the audience stared at the young man’s rather large broken member, till his father proudly spoke up.

“That’s my boy, a chip off the old block!”

Written by snugglebuck

Submitted for the joy of participation.  Not to be considered an entry for the competition.

Abracadabra
Abracadabra
Dangerous Mind
17awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 989

Deathmarch of Days

 
As a child
the touch was so light
It almost felt
I could brush it aside
There was surely time
to live forever
before the hand on my shoulder
grew heavier
and my heart knew
the ardor of its press
The weight of each day
added dutifully to the next
My poison of sunsets
fed drop by drop
until every new moon
cried blood
and the scorn
of wheeling birds
grew harsher
as each dawn broke
Only the hand knows
how many more blue skies
before the soul is shattered
and seconds cease their fuss
until life
becomes a memory
sharing its page with dust
Written by Abracadabra
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Abracadabra
Abracadabra
Dangerous Mind
17awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 989

On the Death of Poor, Dear Polly

 
My pretty boy
shall squawk no more
from his perch
upon my shoulder
He pecked the last
flea from my ear
and then he
just rolled over
 
I'll miss his insults
screamed at me
he'd curse
in every weather  
and to fat old ladies
on the bus
he'd wink and
preen his feathers
 
If we happened on
a sailor
his language
could get brash
but I preferred
his shrieks of joy
when Manchester
got thrashed
 
The funeral needs
a plain affair
He never left
a will--
a simple shoebox
one short prayer
then cremation
on the hill
Written by Abracadabra
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poet Anonymous

poet Anonymous

hgnichols
hgnichols
Harry Nichols
Thought Provoker
United States
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 39

Funeral Song

Flowers mingle with mortal dust,
meet on stale bones--
lonely crooning;
an evening's intoxicated courtship;
sweet hollow hymns headed for morning.
Written by hgnichols (Harry Nichols)
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buddydog
buddydog
buddydog H Faulk III
Thought Provoker
United States
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 5th May 2015
Forum Posts: 71

Devil’s Scorn

My darkness was born
With the devil's scorn
Filled with desire  
It's passion was fueled by dire

I live all alone in a field of stone
Beyond these gates my spirit roam
Searching for my long lost love
In-between death and heaven above

I have a locket filled with her soul
Around my neck it defines my role
Darkness, a true path to trudge
A place where light cannot judge  

All the ghosts are chained to their past
The moon and twilight is dim and vast
My spirit is free and confined to infinity
A star lives in my soul for death is eternity
Written by buddydog (buddydog H Faulk III)
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Benzy_420
Benzy_420
BTheW
Twisted Dreamer
United Kingdom
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Jan 2016
Forum Posts: 51

Duck'N'Dive (25)

My feelings lately: escaping seems appealing
Peeling off in the late evening
Dreaming of finding a life with great meaning
I mean it's fine with me to lay eyes to the ceiling, not moving, not breathing

No minutia
No monotony either
People playing power moves, making me weaker
Need space to breathe and a bottle I can drink up
Wasted yet another chance for me and fate to link up

Something sad about the fact I miss the drama
Anxiety holding me back from Kristiana
Bet her lips nirvana
I bet that this is Karma
For making my own mission a million times harder by

Scripting fibs and writing lies
Her diamond eyes and priceless thighs
Only one of her kind I could find in my life
My years of hearing denials have steered my appearance shy, YO GOD!

Can you give a dude a do-over?
At least my own room with no gloom that looms over?
I took the long route in my boots, no new Rover
I move like I'm snoozing or falling into a coma

And now my soles are worn
Heart grows colder so I soldier on
Everyday I pray for gold, even though, I know it's wrong
I never knew of a soul that ever chose to be born, because

who would pick this
Bliss-less mischief?
6th in stick shift
Hit the brick quick
Split from existence and, dip the shit pit
Even arms of Gods got problems tryna lift this

Shit, I wrestle with depression
Hard to learn your lessons when you never did expect them
The minute that a man is born, the world is gonna test him, it's like

Problems, always, pop up out of nowhere
Lost another job, rock bottom, gonna go there

Well at least then it's all up
They say success is, mostly all luck
Is it possible to get some when falling, balled up? BINGO!

Nope, Lord is my Sheppard
And I'm still sheepish, please, lead me somewhere better
Or Im'ma fucking die, Duck and Dive
Sick and tired of welling up,
And coming up dry
Written by Benzy_420 (BTheW)
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Razzerleaf
Razzerleaf
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 89

Becoming Death

Mother was too pale to cough black,
Father became the house,
a face of weathered granite
melded with the stones,
kept crooked by the constant wind
raging off the moors.
 
When I look to the fields
the scarecrow sees me,
he's been whispering.
When the weathervane turns
his snakes hiss across the crops,
I don’t want to listen anymore
but the ground connects us.
 
I watch the walls at night,
my back to the flames,
creatures come to dance behind me.
He told me not to turn
so I watch a life of shadows
flying with the sun and rain,
straining to see the subtleties.
 
He's moving closer to the house,
I call the children in from the washing line
they've been out all day
flapping like larks on the breeze.
I hold them to my cheek smell their folded hair.
 
He's outside the window now,
I haven’t moved for days.
The house growls as the wind changes direction
and he's sitting at my table,
insects sprawling from his outstretched hands.
 
It only takes a touch.
 
I’m in the top field
listening for two travelers
as they cross the moors,
one is very weak so I tell him
he won't make the journey.
 
Then I move a little closer,
I know he can hear me.
Written by Razzerleaf
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ClassyBird
ClassyBird
Twisted Dreamer
Dominica
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Oct 2019
Forum Posts: 21

Death By Life

Blood in my eyes,
not liquidized
metaphorically speaking of
pain and hatred,
Realistically speaking,
I'm hurting.
Trying to cope with the pressures of life,
Life becomes too much
yet not enough
At the same time, so many hands
Stretched out to me
But none for me,
walls closing in around me
I can't breathe, claustrophobia.
This tightened grip around my neck
its suffocating,
Rhetorically speaking
I'm dying.
Written by ClassyBird
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NewBeginnings
NewBeginnings
Tyrant of Words
United States
15awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 6th June 2017
Forum Posts: 98

When I Die

When I’m finally laid to rest,    
Please don’t put me in a wooden casket;  
Or leave flowers at my grave,  
In a pretty little basket.    
    
Don’t pump me full of chemicals    
And put me on display;    
Just bury me beneath the earth,    
And plant a seed upon my grave.  
   
As my body rots below,    
My atoms are assimilated;    
In my place a tree will grow,    
From the place that I originated.    
   
Precious minerals, returned to earth;    
Little molecules of me,    
The fuel for yet another life   
As I become the tree.
Written by NewBeginnings
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poet Anonymous

Dear, Robert



It still gets to me even to this day
You died believing everyone hated you
Who’s fault was it?
My step mum’s not telling me where you was
or yourself not wishing to know anyone from my side of the family anymore?
But I sat many of times with you in that room
How I felt the energy instantly
of you crying in front of me
explaining how difficult it was to live with my mother
I couldn’t help or make it better
but I was there, I was listening?
Feel like death has taken me
with every word I’d have wrote in my diary
come and close it
I can’t apologise enough for being the way I am
being inspired to then go through that funny quoting
I’m sure other poets rose like a phoenix
only to be pissed off
they never left a message of where their body would be left rotting
having no consideration towards others noses
I’ll leave this not at an end
because I’m travelling to your grave
to run and show this
I survived 2017
but a part of me wishes I didn’t
I just need you to know I cared more than anyone else
I really did

ClassyBird
ClassyBird
Twisted Dreamer
Dominica
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Oct 2019
Forum Posts: 21

Too Late Suicide

I slit both wrists
and pray to God I drain slowly.
feel every vein in me
pump blood out of my body.
No fight left in me,
No reason to be,
So this is my last story.
I sit here,
legs stretched out in front of me
thinking of what life should be.
I'll use this forum of DU Poetry
To leave a piece of me.

I feel okay,
Just numb around wrist and the thumb.
My hearts beating a little fast
but nothing to be alarmed.

I've tried and failed and failed and tried, failed again
I'm just tired....
life hasn't been that good to me i must admit
It's gotten the best of me.

My head's feeling a little dizzy,
bare with me.

thoughts of all the things i should do instead of this,
Fuck my wrists hurt.

I took a minute to read
DUP's inspiring poems
and I must admit I'm inspired.

God, I feel so weak right now.

I've had a change of mind
I want to live
I want to try and see how best to turn my life around.
 
My eyes are shutting down.

IF yOu ArE rEaDinG tHiS nOw Just KnoW ThAt I
.......................................................................................................................................................................
Written by ClassyBird
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runaway-mindtrain
runaway-mindtrain
Dangerous Mind
United States
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 30th July 2017
Forum Posts: 236

An untraveled road

 
A rider from the secret place comes forth
Opens the hidden door to a twisting flame
Pantomiming lies of demonic tales be swarth
The false heart now wrote above their old shame...
--
The paperless affections into a twelfth light
A cross-cut knife into a wrought synchronicity
Apollo's heart bleeds out in starless lonely night
Athena's mind-gripped fear of moonless mystery...
--
'Come as a Reaper, for as thus you will sow'
Falsifying sickle-bearer an elder named Satu
Nexion near Saturn wherefrom Vindex to grow
Algol and Dabih forming inauspicious stars onto...
--
'Agios o Cronos. Gaudete hodie scietis qui a veni et Vindex'...
Written by runaway-mindtrain
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SKG
SKG
Lost Thinker
United Kingdom
  profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Jan 2020
Forum Posts: 4

Today

Today you held my hand for the last time
And told me how much I meant to you
The only woman you ever loved you said
How I wish you'd told me that yesterday

Today you planted my favourite flowers
Magnolia, Gardenia and Freesia
So I can smell them for eternity
How I'd waited for a single rose from you

Today I lay here alone once again
Like the long nights and days
That I lay alone waiting for you
As you laid next to her on our bed

Today as i finally sleep for eternity
Broken heart syndrome they called it
My heart and soul finally free
From all the pain and hurt you caused
Today I finally Rest in Peace

SKG

Written by SKG
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