I was always obsessively
full of painful anxiety
and blood of wishing,
I can scream,
but blood never washes off.
A something
in the wave of distressing
a tidal wave of hope-lessly
and its full of their hate
and my own backyard
of retaliation,
of why I sleep
for hours of eighteen
Why can't I
just live in my dreams?
Will I be able to
if I spill the blood
of the guilt
of my painful momentum?
I never felt joy,
until my lights were out,
and my fantasies
were true events
as I remembered
and now the holy
of such remembered faces,
Jesus and I never
had a good
relationship.
I feel my soul,
is escaping to joys
of their misery
and they won't
pretend,
I meant anything
in this damn world
Its getting worse.
i miss you... i miss you in those most random of moments. i forget to forget you, to let you go of you and memories.... i smell you randomly, i still feel your touch trace across my body. the visions of you filling my mind against my will. i can feel the emotions ripping through my heart as each flashes in my head..... why did you go ? i don't feel like you left but your absence has been filled with the memories of our times together. bittersweet limerence comes crawling in as i try to shut the door for the meories to stop. i miss you, i cant tell you or even lie to myself about it. i know i love you and my love wasnt enough, i screamed and pleaded with you to not leave.. to not abandon me. you were at doorway looking out.... here my pleas to growth with me, don't leave out of fear.... we can work through fear together. but you couldn't fight anymore. a moment flashed were i saw our future together.. what could have been? the places we would've went. the children we could have had, the beautiful memories we created. now im left in the floor scared and grieving of my life that could've been
He'll save his cash
Digs grave ... tips ash
We burn bright, burn brief
Sun is not long when come the stars
Blue yellow green turn grey
With just the briefest patch of red to mark their passing
We are fireworks, never really matching words to action
But close by the blaze it's hard to tell.
We yearn to join our sparks together,
To rise, mortal momentary ember
To combine, combust in one
To make our small obeisance to the sun.
They say eyes are
a memoir, stories stolen from memory
that may or may not exist—but either way
iris plays storyteller.
At the bottom of my glass,
a pair of ocean eyes in brandy—
searches for an identity.
Nothing
but a blurred face with no features
—perhaps no stories ever lived to be stolen
though the shape of shadowy tears
are oddly clear—they consume the least amount of light
then drool them out, uneven,
like trembling breaths of an old firefly—
Brings my mind to this
long summer, air reeks of damp, molded plums
even in a marble kitchen: always rancid,
though pores exhale wispy musk and oak—
A scent fitting
for a firefly reaching for summer’s tail,
behind it death’s haggard palm.
His voice sibilant, mocking
its effort: as when summer ends
life ends shortly after.
Pupils follow the wavering ghost of firefly—
stars grayish azure, grasping anything gravity can pull
to keep a lone soul companied down the road:
My friend, come along,
there’s no need to fight tomorrow.
But physics means nothing to the candlelight midair.
Weary as it is—
summer will die chasing summer.
The Ides of September register strong agitation;
hatred’s violence breaks out, over and again.
Remembering the healing after 9-11’s rage -
the difficult rebuilding of our broken nation.
Knowing reconciliation/peace would be our gain,
Ideals for September, get on the same page?
Go-go gadget, withdrawals no more,
a toast to addicts—there’s treasure on the floor.
X marks the spot, scribbled in Crayola,
connect all the dots—ecstasy, the night is over.
From Rock ’em Sock ’em robots to rocks in socks, a show-off,
hungry hungry Zippos, the money swells my lymph nodes, a lovely something sent ghosts—
right outside your windows,
trust no one, innuendo,
the night piggybacks the sickos.
I feel far from home, yet remotely close to sin,
my coffin’s so inviting—volunteer, I jump right in.
Fundamental frequency, but I only hit the high note,
incidental contingencies, lies in every word that she spoke.
Intentional indecency—my clip could use a reload,
a spectacle illegally, items bought without a barcode.
I yearn for entertainment, chose the red pill, hide from agents,
time’s complacent, me and drugs—true love, it’s our engagement.
And if I ever said “drugs make me a better me,”
I’m sorry that I lied—every night,
I cry myself to sleep.
She starred as a waitress who was always jolly.
She was very talented and her name was Polly.
I wonder if she realized that 'Alice' would become such a big hit.
Her famous catchphrase in all of her episodes was "kiss my grits".
It's not surprising that she had fame.
She perished and it's a damn shame.
When it came to Polly becoming famous, she certainly did not fail.
She also starred in a few episodes of 'Home Improvement' as well.
She had many fans and they all loved to see her star as Flo.
She has died at the age of 88 because it was her time to go.
[Dedicated to Polly Holliday (1937-2025) who died on September 9, 2025]
Americahasmoregunsthanpeople.
Your guns don’t work.
They just cause hurt.
If the law doesn’t change,
It will happen again.
(C)2025 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
O soil of Gaza, within your belly lie the souls of our children,
Their flesh you consumed without a conscience,
Their blood runs deep into your hidden streams,
Yet you boast of swallowing their tender bones.
You paved a path for our their deformed limbs,
Without pity, you grant their innocence a bed.
We weep, yet you pretend our tears are sweat,
While you take joy in burying our children.
The bombs they hurl on your blossoms explode,
Cutting lives short, dismissing our children's future.
You turn their gun-shattered bodies into your fertility,
But of what use, when their limbs lie withered?
O soil of Gaza, vomit out the souls of these children,
—
in innocence they entered your gluttonous belly.
Their days are better above you than within you,
So why did you allow your greed to take them away?
Once there is no romance
No passion,
No impulse,
It will be no spark in a poem;
Once there is no true understanding
No wisdom,
No reason,
It will be no content in a poem;
Even if a poem has all them
If no one reads it,
It will fade
And die
youre a red apple
the outside i devour in large, juicy bites
as much as my teeth can fit with all corners stretched wide
youd think to do the same at the core
But cracking bitterness brings seeds
scratch small bites, an itch
Jaw working, bony indents stiched
I like the way my tendons flex
Palm spread to grasp that hard fruit off the wiry stem
The core delicate
Slurping juice of whats left
The carcass melts into a brown sugar debt
Back to the earth you go to be reborn again
Life lost, she bore;
The cost of war.
a searing gash
the world still lives through
Sep.11~
as phoenix proudly rises
from ashes, life resurrects.
“Dream on, it costs nothing. Mind is the biggest canvas on which you can daub any shade to colour the dreams that you see while sleeping or awake.” ~ By Poet
As the earth snoozed under
a heavy shroud of darkness,
weary and work worn, I lay down,
dreaming of a peaceful sleep.
The moon hang like a silver disc,
its shimmering glow filtering
through tangled boughs of oak trees.
A gentle wind came wafting by
with smell of trellised jasmines
and sneaked through my open window.
Soon I drifted to a dream world.
Like a speeding locomotive,
that came to an abrupt halt,
I lay still, in a coffin.
amid scent of burning incense,
frozen silence, heaving hearts
and silently chanted prayers.
The chariot wheeled me along,
in my last journey through
mazy paths, stretching, stretching
to a world, beyond galaxies.
I woke up soon, my eyes still shut,
A vulture swooped down circling,
over my deceased body.
Am I dreaming within a dream?
Specific Types of Death Poems
Read wonderful death poetry on the following sub-topics:
anniversary, brother, cat, child, dog, elegy, eulogy, father, friend, funeral, goodbye, grandfather, grandmonther, grief, in loving memory, loss, lover, memorial, missing you, mother, moving on, pet, rip, sad, sister, suicide, sympathy,
and more.
Definition | What is Death in Poetry?
Poems Related to Death
afterlife, bereavement, darkness, death of a friend, decease, demise, departure, dying, eternal rest, extinction, fatality, grave, grim reaper, heaven, loss, lost love, mortality, paradise, parting, passing, passing over, repose, sleep, the end, tomb