Death Poems
sammy4444
Forum Posts: 35
Fire of Insight
5
Joined 25th Oct 2014Forum Posts: 35
The Big Day
The big day had at long last, finally arrived
That he had been waiting for his whole life
Though he hadn't always realized
His suit had been laid out for him while he slept
His dearest had chosen colors to best represent
His greatest strengths while hiding any regrets
Hired servants washed him with reverence
Hushed tones, voices soft in his presence
His thoughts distant in contemplated existence
He wasn't royalty, he wasn't loaded with cash
His parade wasn't lead with sirens and flash
But people waved at his carriage as he passed
He seemed in a trance as he entered the hall
Pictures and awards lining the walls
His closest friends beside him, standing tall
This was his party, this was his day
His greatest prides put on display
As people from his life took turns to say:
"...Always the ideal example of a man,"
"My life is better for knowing him," and
"I admire his work, I'm his biggest fan."
And all the things he failed to accomplish
Were justified away, "He knew how to dream big"
The holes that he made just show he could dig
The crowd laughed as they roasted him
They raised their glasses and toasted to him
As his friends bragged and boasted for him
Then the mood of the room grew a little more sober
As the love of his life revealed how deeply he loved her
And the blush on his cheeks seemed out of character
They then closed their eyes and said a prayer
Thankful for the moments they were blessed to share
That formed the memories they held so dear
They tucked him gently into his little bed
Then placed a kiss on his wrinkled forehead
And took one last look before closing the lid,
Uncovered the vault, lowered him into the ground
Crying as the casket slowly went down
And then covered it up with earthen brown
Then went their separate ways to try to move on.
That he had been waiting for his whole life
Though he hadn't always realized
His suit had been laid out for him while he slept
His dearest had chosen colors to best represent
His greatest strengths while hiding any regrets
Hired servants washed him with reverence
Hushed tones, voices soft in his presence
His thoughts distant in contemplated existence
He wasn't royalty, he wasn't loaded with cash
His parade wasn't lead with sirens and flash
But people waved at his carriage as he passed
He seemed in a trance as he entered the hall
Pictures and awards lining the walls
His closest friends beside him, standing tall
This was his party, this was his day
His greatest prides put on display
As people from his life took turns to say:
"...Always the ideal example of a man,"
"My life is better for knowing him," and
"I admire his work, I'm his biggest fan."
And all the things he failed to accomplish
Were justified away, "He knew how to dream big"
The holes that he made just show he could dig
The crowd laughed as they roasted him
They raised their glasses and toasted to him
As his friends bragged and boasted for him
Then the mood of the room grew a little more sober
As the love of his life revealed how deeply he loved her
And the blush on his cheeks seemed out of character
They then closed their eyes and said a prayer
Thankful for the moments they were blessed to share
That formed the memories they held so dear
They tucked him gently into his little bed
Then placed a kiss on his wrinkled forehead
And took one last look before closing the lid,
Uncovered the vault, lowered him into the ground
Crying as the casket slowly went down
And then covered it up with earthen brown
Then went their separate ways to try to move on.
Written by sammy4444
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Benzy_420
BTheW
Forum Posts: 53
BTheW
Twisted Dreamer
4
Joined 24th Jan 2016 Forum Posts: 53
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
NewBeginnings
Forum Posts: 102
Tyrant of Words
18
Joined 6th June 2017 Forum Posts: 102
Time is Ticking
Can you feel it?
It’s growing stronger every day.
That feeling of existential dread
Which rises from the darkest depths of your mind,
Bubbling to the surface of your thoughts,
And spilling into consciousness
As ink to the page of a writer's will.
You know it all too well...
That feeling of malaise you brush away
Like a fly from your plate,
Or a mosquito, buzzing in your ear.
Like an incessant internal itch
Which can never be scratched,
The inevitability of death brings an urgency to life
That I can’t seem to shake.
With no guarantee of another day,
How can we waste our lives away
Pursuing empty endeavors,
Depriving ourselves of pleasures,
When life could be so much better?
It’s growing stronger every day.
That feeling of existential dread
Which rises from the darkest depths of your mind,
Bubbling to the surface of your thoughts,
And spilling into consciousness
As ink to the page of a writer's will.
You know it all too well...
That feeling of malaise you brush away
Like a fly from your plate,
Or a mosquito, buzzing in your ear.
Like an incessant internal itch
Which can never be scratched,
The inevitability of death brings an urgency to life
That I can’t seem to shake.
With no guarantee of another day,
How can we waste our lives away
Pursuing empty endeavors,
Depriving ourselves of pleasures,
When life could be so much better?
Written by NewBeginnings
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solanaceae
Forum Posts: 16
Twisted Dreamer
2
Joined 17th Jan 2019Forum Posts: 16
Waiting
She's always preparing
for the worst;
even now, in-between the
calm and the storm.
Yet with unflinching eyes,
she sits quietly,
taking it all in.
Like a cold morning
on the porch with
her coffee.
To her, grief is
a planned process.
Something tangible.
If she can take
enough notes,
and do her research,
she can handle it.
And death,
she knows him.
He's an old friend,
sitting in the corner
of the room as
we speak.
But for this,
she couldn't prepare.
This time, it's
out of her hands.
The deck of cards
given and cursed
at birth.
Now, like a passenger
of a ship, she will wait
for its landing.
And the worst is
yet to come,
but this time
she won't be ready.
for the worst;
even now, in-between the
calm and the storm.
Yet with unflinching eyes,
she sits quietly,
taking it all in.
Like a cold morning
on the porch with
her coffee.
To her, grief is
a planned process.
Something tangible.
If she can take
enough notes,
and do her research,
she can handle it.
And death,
she knows him.
He's an old friend,
sitting in the corner
of the room as
we speak.
But for this,
she couldn't prepare.
This time, it's
out of her hands.
The deck of cards
given and cursed
at birth.
Now, like a passenger
of a ship, she will wait
for its landing.
And the worst is
yet to come,
but this time
she won't be ready.
Written by solanaceae
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Abracadabra
Forum Posts: 3494
Tyrant of Words
21
Joined 13th Nov 2009Forum Posts: 3494
black feather
frail hum of dust
breathes skeleton stir
ground from the bone pile
memories whir
in the oubliette
cold stones confer
Death
is not
forever
through rasp of truth
time spits its germs
where lies bleed frantic
festered worms
in the oubliette
cruel reason squirms
Death
is not
forever
life's circus stained
graffiti tears
shriek dream demolished
wasted years
in the oubliette
stale tasting fear
sighs Death
is not
forever
breathes skeleton stir
ground from the bone pile
memories whir
in the oubliette
cold stones confer
Death
is not
forever
through rasp of truth
time spits its germs
where lies bleed frantic
festered worms
in the oubliette
cruel reason squirms
Death
is not
forever
life's circus stained
graffiti tears
shriek dream demolished
wasted years
in the oubliette
stale tasting fear
sighs Death
is not
forever
Written by Abracadabra
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Abracadabra
Forum Posts: 3494
Tyrant of Words
21
Joined 13th Nov 2009Forum Posts: 3494
Blind Date with Death
I asked Death
if madame took it up the ass
and what it felt like
sleeping with a stiff
in eternity's ice cold bed
So far
she didn't answer,
which suits me just fine
but I can't help wondering
how high I rate on her list
I almost asked
if on her wilder nights
Death plays peeping Tom
stalking the window of life
applauding every cigarette and shot
her shadow ready to pounce
on the foibles of an ailing heart
But she must hear that all the time
so then I thought maybe life's
plucked blind from the nest
a trembling baby bird
to be cupped in safer hands
away from Death's embrace
for a fleeting moment of joy
while the rest of eternity waits
which means not one of us
can ever quite learn how to fly
And I still can't get a hard on
for Death Air economy class
all the waiting to check in
with seven billion in the line
no lifejacket required
and not even a restroom
to freshen up in
Wouldn't you bet
she'll be a sour-faced
miserable bitch
with a gash like sandpaper
and gravity stretched tits
forever checking her nails
and bragging to her pals
cholesterol and cancer
about threesomes in the freezer
with every new kid hits town
Don't you just hate
blind dates.
Written by Abracadabra
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eswaller
Forum Posts: 762
Dangerous Mind
31
Joined 22nd Dec 2015Forum Posts: 762
Her Final Breath
In this grave lays the girl who had tried
Too hard and her plea for help was never
Heard over the sound of the world that
Kept moving. People claim to have cried,
But they never knew she was so clever,
Free spirited and kind. She never sat
On the sidelines like everyone else. She
Was quiet, but no one knew she was lost
On the inside. She wandered from love to
Happiness to anger and sadness. The sea
Carried away all her sorrows, but the cost
Of love and life was too much as she grew
Tired of the shadows that always followed
Her. Her heart was becoming weary and
Her soul was becoming lonely. She just
Wanted to disappear and she swallowed
The pill in the hopes people understand
Her in her final moments. People adjust
To a life without her laughter and warmth.
Her smiles are missed in a world filled with
Fake smiles and artificialness. Her death
Left a hole. Their lives have transformed
And shifted because of her as her myth
Is over. In death she gives her last breath
Hoping others would never follow in her
Footsteps of feeling alone. In a world so
Chaotic and messy she has finally found
Peace. She let the tears go. The whisperer
In her dreams told her to let everything go
Into the wilderness as she is left unbound.
Too hard and her plea for help was never
Heard over the sound of the world that
Kept moving. People claim to have cried,
But they never knew she was so clever,
Free spirited and kind. She never sat
On the sidelines like everyone else. She
Was quiet, but no one knew she was lost
On the inside. She wandered from love to
Happiness to anger and sadness. The sea
Carried away all her sorrows, but the cost
Of love and life was too much as she grew
Tired of the shadows that always followed
Her. Her heart was becoming weary and
Her soul was becoming lonely. She just
Wanted to disappear and she swallowed
The pill in the hopes people understand
Her in her final moments. People adjust
To a life without her laughter and warmth.
Her smiles are missed in a world filled with
Fake smiles and artificialness. Her death
Left a hole. Their lives have transformed
And shifted because of her as her myth
Is over. In death she gives her last breath
Hoping others would never follow in her
Footsteps of feeling alone. In a world so
Chaotic and messy she has finally found
Peace. She let the tears go. The whisperer
In her dreams told her to let everything go
Into the wilderness as she is left unbound.
Written by eswaller
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NewBeginnings
Forum Posts: 102
Tyrant of Words
18
Joined 6th June 2017 Forum Posts: 102
Beksinski's Curse
I awaken with a sudden gasp,
As a silent scream escapes my lips.
My heart beats heavy in my chest:
A dream, into reality, slips.
The hairs are raised upon my back,
As my body aches with fright;
I sit there petrified, awake...
Alas! Another sleepless night.
I cannot sleep in peace, it seems,
As I'm haunted by these hellish scenes,
That creep into my deepest dreams,
And tear me at my weakest seams.
And so, I paint the perfect picture,
Like a photograph for the world to see,
Of the land of death and decay,
Which dwells so deep inside of me.
One night whilst I lay in bed,
Just as I was drifting off to sleep,
I felt an awful sense of dread—
A certain darkness looming over me.
That night I dreamed of my own death,
But it seemed so real to me this time;
I could feel the reaper’s icy breath,
As she locked her lips with mine.
The light escaped my emerald eyes,
As I took my final, labored breath;
Eclipsing me in eternal darkness
—the cold embrace of death.
Suddenly…
Awakened by a stabbing pain!
A knife dug deep into my skin;
I feel my life begin to wane,
As it lacerates the veins within.
My life flashed before my eyes,
As my vision was eclipsed.
I had seen my own demise
In the reaper's icy kiss.
Lying lifeless on the bed,
My mattress painted crimson red;
Like the hellish scenes inside my head
—A gruesome picture of the dead.
The ending of this tragic story...
Painted in this final scene.
All that remains of me is my artistry:
My window to the obscene.
As a silent scream escapes my lips.
My heart beats heavy in my chest:
A dream, into reality, slips.
The hairs are raised upon my back,
As my body aches with fright;
I sit there petrified, awake...
Alas! Another sleepless night.
I cannot sleep in peace, it seems,
As I'm haunted by these hellish scenes,
That creep into my deepest dreams,
And tear me at my weakest seams.
And so, I paint the perfect picture,
Like a photograph for the world to see,
Of the land of death and decay,
Which dwells so deep inside of me.
One night whilst I lay in bed,
Just as I was drifting off to sleep,
I felt an awful sense of dread—
A certain darkness looming over me.
That night I dreamed of my own death,
But it seemed so real to me this time;
I could feel the reaper’s icy breath,
As she locked her lips with mine.
The light escaped my emerald eyes,
As I took my final, labored breath;
Eclipsing me in eternal darkness
—the cold embrace of death.
Suddenly…
Awakened by a stabbing pain!
A knife dug deep into my skin;
I feel my life begin to wane,
As it lacerates the veins within.
My life flashed before my eyes,
As my vision was eclipsed.
I had seen my own demise
In the reaper's icy kiss.
Lying lifeless on the bed,
My mattress painted crimson red;
Like the hellish scenes inside my head
—A gruesome picture of the dead.
The ending of this tragic story...
Painted in this final scene.
All that remains of me is my artistry:
My window to the obscene.
Written by NewBeginnings
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drone
Forum Posts: 2273
Tyrant of Words
10
Joined 3rd Sep 2011 Forum Posts: 2273
Your Body
The words
life and death
together
is wrong
it should be
life as we know it
or the unknown
but even that
is wrong
because
sooner or later
the unknown
will come knocking
on your door
where the choice
is not yours
to choose
you will embrace
your fear
of losing
what you held
so close
all these years
The words
life and death
together
is wrong
it should be
life as we know it
or the unknown
but even that
is wrong
because
sooner or later
the unknown
will come knocking
on your door
where the choice
is not yours
to choose
you will embrace
your fear
of losing
what you held
so close
all these years
Abracadabra
Forum Posts: 3494
Tyrant of Words
21
Joined 13th Nov 2009Forum Posts: 3494
Death of a Dear One
Baby, I'm so sorry
last night I must have been
drunker than I thought
What was I thinking of?
On my way out
I remembered to turn off the light
but I left your door open
so the whole wide world
could just walk right in
and take advantage
I know, baby
that was my big mistake
We all make them
sometimes
although I've never done
anything as foolish before
but then none of us is perfect
after all
You know lately it's been the
toughest time at work
nothing seems to go right
only stress and the bills
getting higher
no wonder I need to drink
the way I do
Can you imagine
how I felt
coming home to find you like that
everything I held so dear
special memories lost forever
all the things I loved
and looked forward to
gone for good
The worst part
was seeing your insides
all churned up
congealing on the floor
Now I know how a murderer
must feel
We may as well let the cat
finish up what's left
before I drag you outside
and down the stairs
You're certainly heavier
than I thought
and when I get time
I promise
to dispose of you properly
but for now my dearest
dead
freezer
may you rest quietly
in peace
Written by Abracadabra
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Lagertha
Elizabeth Grace
Forum Posts: 10
Elizabeth Grace
Fire of Insight
1
Joined 9th Dec 2018Forum Posts: 10
I Am Oblivia
I am now void
in the rhythms of a profound language, once
ingrained
in my youthful mind.
Books of knowledge, now
adorned
with thorny spines
and illegible scribes.
Like muscles, my
lexicon atrophies
when not utilized.
Dwindling resources
dulled
by illiterate thoughts.
Shunned
by the keepers
of knowledge,
belittled by the arrogance
of the social conformist.
I became sedulous
in my search for
a mentor
and confidant to evoke
the memories
of my wisdom
of language.
He procured me
a feast
of faux knowledge and
decomposed
my inner compass; by
guiding me
to feast
from the tree
of the Apple
of Sodom.
Choking on smoke,
my stomach lines
with ash.
Leaving trails of snarled thoughts
and
sporadic flashes of knowledge
faded away
from my mind.
As I crawl throughout the carnage
of cruel intent, leaving razor
thin cuts
of malevolence.
Breaking the chains of courage within me.
I am oblivia.
in the rhythms of a profound language, once
ingrained
in my youthful mind.
Books of knowledge, now
adorned
with thorny spines
and illegible scribes.
Like muscles, my
lexicon atrophies
when not utilized.
Dwindling resources
dulled
by illiterate thoughts.
Shunned
by the keepers
of knowledge,
belittled by the arrogance
of the social conformist.
I became sedulous
in my search for
a mentor
and confidant to evoke
the memories
of my wisdom
of language.
He procured me
a feast
of faux knowledge and
decomposed
my inner compass; by
guiding me
to feast
from the tree
of the Apple
of Sodom.
Choking on smoke,
my stomach lines
with ash.
Leaving trails of snarled thoughts
and
sporadic flashes of knowledge
faded away
from my mind.
As I crawl throughout the carnage
of cruel intent, leaving razor
thin cuts
of malevolence.
Breaking the chains of courage within me.
I am oblivia.
Written by Lagertha
(Elizabeth Grace)
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Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Forum Posts: 5134
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
154
Joined 9th Nov 2015 Forum Posts: 5134
Caesarian
They found the child lying
deep in the depths of my womb,
along with other past lives
fermenting into mud
in their cold, watery graves.
Lifted up from the darkness,
five shadowy figures
came and took her from me,
while I could not say how
this had me feel.
But soon it made itself known,
as the new emptiness
opened its mocking jaw,
as clouds of silt slowly rose
from surrounding memories.
There was turbulence
in these waters, to
acquiesce thieves in the night
as they committed Rebirth,
leaving me bereft.
As Death, the passage of Time
means nothing to me—
and each arrival
hears me like a
whale sinking into the deep.
I am a placid liquid
surrounded by Nature’s calm,
reflecting bygone worlds
from where all were born,
and where all shall return.
I am that woman
returning my daughter
to me, her Mother—
so I watch, and I’ll wait,
reminded of Time passing.
I am Death, the other side,
where all my children
in this embrace
shall be equally mourned,
if I should lose even one.
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16701
Tams
Tyrant of Words
122
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16701
Sacred Contracts XII: Death
Death is neither shadow
nor luster of perception;
but, the obscure expanse
amid the forgotten—
It’s the hollow snag
who nominates herself
for neither ritual nor obligation
to the land of her sapling youth;
the very spot the forest floor
nursed her into becoming
Evolution is a portal—
a continuum of bark
and limb regenerating
through lives of descendants’
dependent upon the cycle
Death is neither noise nor the absence of—
but the interval of silent partners
linking formations of notes and words
into definitions that form our lives;
it’s a musician whose message
returns to its place of conception—
bequeathing a legacy: survive
the mass illusion of deficiency
Death is neither touch nor absence of caress;
It’s Love's ombudsman returning victorious
~
nor luster of perception;
but, the obscure expanse
amid the forgotten—
It’s the hollow snag
who nominates herself
for neither ritual nor obligation
to the land of her sapling youth;
the very spot the forest floor
nursed her into becoming
Evolution is a portal—
a continuum of bark
and limb regenerating
through lives of descendants’
dependent upon the cycle
Death is neither noise nor the absence of—
but the interval of silent partners
linking formations of notes and words
into definitions that form our lives;
it’s a musician whose message
returns to its place of conception—
bequeathing a legacy: survive
the mass illusion of deficiency
Death is neither touch nor absence of caress;
It’s Love's ombudsman returning victorious
~
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
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javalini
Forum Posts: 214
Dangerous Mind
17
Joined 4th Apr 2019Forum Posts: 214
Stardust
imagine
the souls of dead folk
dissipating
rising
just that quiet
and fading
through endless blue
or black
and stars like pinholes
and memories spun out
and hard wrought truth
twisted into one last hungry breath
before the bony chest stops
and the skin goes yellow
i remember jesus in the manger
his lights strung across the porch rail,
a plastic snowman standing in the weeds
and mama saying plug him in and light him up
and her hanging clothes in grey December
her skirt in the icy wind
and fingers blue cold
and those wide sheets blowing white against the tumbled sky
and her gone now like that boy who watched
and wished
and never thought about disappearing
and all that and this, too,
all what little i am,
these books
and all what's beloved
and sacred
and all of it the same as yours,
all of it tender in the fleshy pit behind the sternum
but then just gone,
even the holiest part of it,
and our little lives mined for relics
and so we wish for heaven
and even hell
where all our cherished pieces are melded
and recognizable
and our spark forever lights against the night sky
strong beyond the memories of loved ones
the souls of dead folk
dissipating
rising
just that quiet
and fading
through endless blue
or black
and stars like pinholes
and memories spun out
and hard wrought truth
twisted into one last hungry breath
before the bony chest stops
and the skin goes yellow
i remember jesus in the manger
his lights strung across the porch rail,
a plastic snowman standing in the weeds
and mama saying plug him in and light him up
and her hanging clothes in grey December
her skirt in the icy wind
and fingers blue cold
and those wide sheets blowing white against the tumbled sky
and her gone now like that boy who watched
and wished
and never thought about disappearing
and all that and this, too,
all what little i am,
these books
and all what's beloved
and sacred
and all of it the same as yours,
all of it tender in the fleshy pit behind the sternum
but then just gone,
even the holiest part of it,
and our little lives mined for relics
and so we wish for heaven
and even hell
where all our cherished pieces are melded
and recognizable
and our spark forever lights against the night sky
strong beyond the memories of loved ones
Written by javalini
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