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Death Write Poems | Death Poems About Write

These Death Write poems are examples of Death poems about Write. These are the best examples of Death Write poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Ballad | |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….



Details | Free verse | |

Worst Love Poem Ever Written

I suck at dying poems
Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,
Hair falling out in the shower poems
 
And I told a half truth
When I told you I could write you one
In less than six months (It's been eight)
I apologize for being so late

 
I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful
Like those ribbons
I see all over the internet
Filled with cheesy generic rhymes
That read like a Hallmark audition

  But already my metaphors are melting
And my similes are getting soft
 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

 When I went to Google
And the typed in the word 'happy'
Three billion links came up

Not a single inference to
Breast cancer, hair loss
No redirects to mastectomies
Yahoo wasn't any kinder

 
The only thing research could teach me
Is that a good day on chemo
Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black
And has no blood in it

Or when your urine
Smells better on Wednesday
Than it did on Tuesday

Sleeping less than 12 hours
When 24 would be better

  
America has more poets
Than it does alcoholics
   And Pot smokers combined
And you chose me to be
Your Breast Cancer
Poet Laureate

Trusting me to write a poem
About the biggest battle in your life

So I refuse to finish this poem
Without something bright and hopeful
 
And don't think
I didn't notice your Facebook activity
Had decreased by 88%
In the last three months

 
And you aren't really
Coming to any more of my poetry shows
Ever again. Are you??
But we still have March, April
Don't we?

 
But even if you had one breast
Or no breast

Or if you had less hair than I do
I promise to look only in your eyes
And never ever even notice
Or even think about it

And never for a moment
Would I feel sorry for you

Yes I suck at lying too...

 
But I don't suck at loving you
Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning
 With no Cancer at all
And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside
Your bedroom window...

And I would be right there with you
Holding your hand while we look down on Paris
And you can impress me with your French again

 
And if I ever make it
To the Pulitzer Poetry board
I might lose a thousand points
Just for this poem alone

And my hopes for the prize will be smitten
And some old person 
With white hair will say
That was the worst love poem ever written


Details | Romanticism | |

The Blue Poet

I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.


Details | Free verse | |

Hovering

How many have ever heard the song "Somewhere in Time?"
       It's a song with only music and with no words or rhyme.
 "Fantasie Impromtu" is another one written by Chopin?  
       Also a song of rare beauty without words thrown in.
These two songs along with "Moonlight Sonata" were played by my son.
       He's an acomplished pianist who can play most any run.
He played these songs at my funeral last week.
       Don't be shocked all you people keep on sitting in your seat.
You Poetry Soup poets who are sitting there reading this write.
       Yes you!  Don't turn around and look behind you or look to the right!
Do you feel that erie feeling in your tummy right now?
       Well! It's because of me! I'm hovering over you somehow!
No don't look!  You won't see me. 
       My spirit is floating above your right shoulder freely.
I'm watching you read your poems.  Did you get some good comments today?
       Yes I saw where you wrote that beautiful verse, and that nice display!
You deserve that nice comment.  How about your soupmail?  Are there very many?
       Did someone tell you a secret?  Remember!  I won't tell and I know a plenty!
I've been watching you on Poetry Soup for hours writing your poems that rhyme.
       You're writing about love and mysteries, about cat tails, building spaceships and rhyme 
        time!
You're writing of happy new year, time warps, romantic longings and betrayals and how do 
        you do it,
       One of you says your poems are like children to you, one writes of beautiful women 
        with wit
And one of you even wrote of hanging berries!  And all of these wonderful poems I've read.
        I have hovered over many of you and you never even knew I was dead,  
Such wonderful talented writers we have on Poetry Soup. 
       Everyone writes his own style that belongs to this group.
So take heed when you sit down to write a new rhyme.
       And know that someone's watching you write all this time.
And when you feel that erie feeling in your tummy right now.
       Well!  It's because of me!  I'm hovering over you somehow!


Details | Free verse | |

Lamenting Spirit

Seemingly standing alone,
In the shadows of doubt and fear,
Lost, cold, forgotten,
Cold is the grasp of death that nears

Seeking a hand in darkness of solitude,
Wishing for nothing but a love,
Turned away, cast aside, borne not even a stray, lone thought,
Towering aloft, looked down upon from far above

Throned so high overhead, just as kings of old,
Glared down upon, a lowly tear forsaken so,
Caught within a trap, drowning, mists of sorrow,
A voice unheard, a voice deserted, only a voice in woe

Wandering such great, forlorn paths,
A derelict mind harshly beat, a mind that has since long been vacant,
Rove, this neglected child does,
One mind among so many, outcast, this dolor mind abeyant. 


Details | Free verse | |

Now Finished Poem

Wondering if it’s an omen, finding the box in the attic today?
A treasure trove of memories into our lives
This piece of paper upon which I started to write a poem
I remember at the time I could write no more as I grieved

Missing you as each day goes by and wishing you were here
I know you are in the ever loving arms of our Lord
The Lord sent you down as an angel on loan to us
You were called home dear and we were not ready

I know we will one day be together again
Waiting for the day we will be called home also
Now the poem I started to write to you is finished
Our time together will come again my daughter and 
never end

Written by: Carol Brown
 For The "Treasure Trove" contest of Linda-Marie
1st Place Winner


Details | Rhyme | |

Happiness in a Wrong way

Happiness in a Wrong way – Zamreen Zarook

In the notion of seeking happiness,
I thought of stepping in to nonsense,
I dream I could find success,
But I had only little access.

Every attempt that I lend,
It was an utter failure at the end,
My life was full of difficult bend,
But God is always there as a good friend.

My deeds travel in various ways,
Some times in subways,
Or in times it goes in highways,
But I had the belief, God is there always.

North and south families surrounded,
East and west friends are rounded,
Every time fear on death soughed,
I am trapped, and my merits are loaded.


Details | Lyric | |

Lacerated Wings

They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave 
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings

The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.

Swarms of nets, waves of screams 
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings

There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings


Details | Romanticism | |

A Flower's Funeral

A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.

Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.

Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.

Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.

What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.

My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.

Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
Long walks,
cosy talks,
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.

-10/6/2013-


Details | Pantoum | |

In Her Teen

We know her future could be bright
If not for death that snatched her dream
She was the queen among her mates
The few she left here said it all

If not for death that snatched her dream
While on earth she nurtured the best
The few she left here said it all
A jewel worth many to pens

While on earth she nurtured the best
She was the queen of her mates
The few she left here said it all
We know her future could be bright


Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Lucid Dream

Look upon city once known by name,
ruins that I called home, streets swallowed by flame,
in time alive shell not witness less of what should you understand,
reach on to hand of a stranger, scroll remain;
in signs that might be changing welcome,
different of a man.

When dawn awakes and there is no light,
upon dusk of man darkness will be spread by sight,
in time not different change will arise, life we thought you knew,
death would recognize.

Hearts will bound to King without a Crown,
why do mothers shed tears, echo rooted in the ground,
is there reason of a foolish wars, contracts written in blood,
new born babies died breathless, can't even appreciate the Sun,
don't deserve to live, not worth of the land,
existence will be scattered in ashes,
you will be remembered
by name.


Details | I do not know? | |

Untitled-Free Thoughts-Rap

Oh well here I go again, 
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in, 
entrapped in, 
torn away from addiction, 
destroy the tele… 
vision they strive to force upon you, 
its all false but you know I’m true. 
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries, 
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes 
with which they hypnotize, 
brainwash you with their lies. 
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in, 
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in 
here in my pretty town, 
the 910 deserves a crown. 
East Coast I'm representing, 
I promise you I am not venting. 
High on that purple haze, 
And still haven't slept for days, 
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze, 
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic, 
use words like special tactics, 
unmistakable like D'Jango, 
or a peace signs' angle, 
destroy the crave for war and struggle, 
no need to explain all the trouble, 
with places burstin’ into rubble, 
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell! 
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead, 
kick and scream till my blood is shed, 
let authorities know the message will be spread! 
Put on a show with a little bit of passion 
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head, 
all this hatred should be dead, 
what I'm saying must be said, 
before the gauge goes into red. 
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant, 
like brothers boston what I speak 
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint, 
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint, 
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort, 
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty 
that you will make it this far 
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose, 
makin ‘em wet.  
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme, 
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind, 
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy, 
continential catastrophe, 
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace 
sorry for the interruption, 
don’t blame me for the corruption, 
for now I'll put my words at ease, 
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie, 
just a tease.

04.27.2013


Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World


Details | Free verse | |

Insecurity

Insecurity is a terrible thing. Insecurity kills. It’s like a dark and terrifying serial killer that never gets caught. It goes on and on. There are some people who in a million years, you would never guess are insecure. Most of the time they’re the most insecure ones, they’re just so used to it that they’re the best ones at hiding it. They go to school every day with a fake smile on their face, hoping that no one will see the scars on their wrists because they just know that none of the other kids will understand why they’re there. The use bracelets to hide them or wear long sleeve shirts everyday. Even on the hottest days of the year when they could most likely over heat and faint. All of that doesn’t matter to them. Some people are insecure because of their weight. But the mirror sees one thing and a persons heart can see different. A lot of the time people are just un happy with their body. Sometimes it could be because of their skin colour or maybe the way their teeth are or maybe even the way they dress because their family can’t afford the best clothes for them. The possibilities could be endless. The girl you called fat? She has an eating disorder. The boy you called gay the other day? He lost all of his self confidence and now he wont even get out of bed and go to school because he’s scared someone will make fun of him again for liking the same sex. A lot of people don’t realize that words can really hurt someone. Those are the words that kill. I honestly feel really sorry for all of the teenagers that commit suicide and don’t get noticed because they weren’t 'The cool one’ or ‘The pretty one. But when they’re actually gone everyone seems to start caring. Funny isn’t it? They’ll say things like ‘She was so beautiful, I wish I could’ve done something to help.’. When the funny thing is, they were the reason why. They were the reason why that person went home every night and self harmed or skipped a meal that day. You say you cared? Yeah, of course you said that. I see exactly what you’re doing. You said that just to make you look like the good guy. You put on a pity party for that person, go to their funeral, lied to their family, but you’re doing this all just for you. Many people see this everyday. I can’t relate personally but trust me it happens. So I want you to think the next time you say something bad about someone. I want you to think the next time you criticize someone. Think about how bad that person might take to heart what you said. Think about someone other than yourself for once. Just picture un your head the way the blood drips onto the ground as they’re cutting. That blood is filled with your words of hate. Let that sink in.


Details | Lyric | |

Come As You Are

At one point in my life i was an artist
I used to paint and draw
Covering a piece of paper
In beautiful colors
And my art told a story
The sort of story you couldn't talk about
I used to go to school every day
Showing up late 
Wasn't something I'd do
But i dropped out
Leaving my education behind
I played the bass guitar
In a band called 
The Nocturnal
My fingers ran against that bass
Pure magic
The sound of the gods
Setting out to destroy the world
Pure Punk straight from Seattle
At one point i was clean
Sober and pure like a new born baby
Falling further into 
What you now call 
"disapointment"
Screwing up my veins
with every shot of herion
Killing my brain cells
With every joint i smoked
Clogging up my nose 
With every pill you could have known
I used to write lyrics
About my life
My childhood
I used to write journals
The ones you read in the book 
that was published of me
I got up on that stage every night
As i was
Nothing fake
Nothing glamourous
Only a few scars
One shot of heroin
Come as you are
The words only speak for 
Themselves


Details | I do not know? | |

From Then To Now

Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
hours
Because no stress was in our 
way
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
castle
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
hours
But misunderstanding broke us 
up
Anna and I still smiled and 
laughed
And joked about our bouncy 
castle
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
two
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
Who
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
minutes
And school started pulling us 
apart
Anna and I still laughed and 
smiled
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
alone
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Chloe
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
unknown
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me
Down


Details | Narrative | |

A missive from the damned to whoever have a little time to spend with this nonsense - Page 1

And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.

Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.

With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to  untouched places by men.

Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...


Details | Free verse | |

Somber Tears

As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.

As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.

I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.

I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.

And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.

And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.

He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.

And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.

Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.

She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.

I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.

I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.

The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.

Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;

But we still all cry,
Why?
Somber tears all fall in one big wave

crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.


Details | Free verse | |

September Weather

Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.


Details | Free verse | |

Drunk in the City of Angels

Drunk in the lost city,
lost in the vase beauty of the angels
drunk, smoking on park benches.

Freaks, trannys, whores and pimps,
looking at me;
a one of a kind.

No one has ever seen me on the streets of L.A.,
beacause I am a one of a kind,
a gentleman, a drunken buffoon.

I hurl myself at the bars,
and the whores look at me and smile,
and I wave them over, and they come.

40 bucks for a night a good fun,
a night of exotic pleasure,
in the heart of the sleeping angels.

Drunk walking,
two in the morning,
police stop me, sleeping on a park bench.

Warm always warm,
never cold,
the city that is lost.

A city known as the city of angels,
yet how many devils I have counted.
How much evil I have seen,
how much temptation rules in the gutters.

Walking drunk on madness,
in this dirty city,
as I look for a bar before last call.

I find one,
I go in,
order a beer.

I drink with pleasure
I start to write,
I light a cigarette and smoke.

A grey cloud forms around me,
"Last call for alcohol," the barkeep shouts.
I raise my hand, he comes over.

"What will yah have?" he asks,
"Another beer and my check."
On the house, free drinks, on the house.

After a night in the city of angels,
I find myself a cosy park bench,
and fall asleep, dreaming of the angels I had never seen.


Details | Blank verse | |

The Sweet smell of a dead rose

A rose that is at full bloom
and the color is pure and the pettles are calm
and dance along with the blowing of the wind
they have a smell, that is divine,
but doesn't bring back no special memory.

Now a dead rose,
that has a smell
that has no definition
that has no pain
it is just there
and it doesn't cry
and it doesn't sigh
it just sits there,
burning away when the sun hits it,
without remorse
without blinding courage.

The dead rose just sits there,
and the smell is so sweet
it brings back memories
that make you cry
and sigh
and sometimes,
laugh
and
smile a little.

Sometimes the dead things
are more beautiful
than the living,

but that is just my opinion,

what do you think?


Details | Free verse | |

They're Watching You

They're watching you,
they're always watching you,
check out the daily news.

Henchmen rob bank,
two officers killed,
change channel.

Reality T.V.
a celebraity stumbling out of a club,
drunk as hell.

Change channel,
a gay couple buying a house,
in a white collar neighborhood.

They're watching you,
they're always watching you,
even when you don't know it.

Someone is always watching you.
Take out the trash,
wash the dishes.

Watching,
survalling,
like a camera.

Terrorists,
they're always watching you,
Politians always watching you.

School teachers,
police,
FBI and CIA
Always watching you.

Smile for the camera
they're watching
so just wave and smile.

Bullies on playground jungle-gyms
looking out for the ugly nerd,
found him.

Hiding under the woodchips,
get him, beat him up,
I told you, they're always watching you.

Look at me,
look what I can do,
can you see me?

I'll drink to that,
cheers,
for they're always watching.


Details | Lyric | |

Im Sorry

I hope you remember all of the bad things you have done so far
I hope you still have the chance to fix them 
Im sorry it took me forever to write this letter to you
Ive been meaning to save you from what your about to become
For some reason i cant get a grip on it
I dont know what i want to say
I dont know how to help you
Im about to tell you about some of the things you are about to do
Right now your 16
Right now you are sitting on your bed listening to music
Reading a book on your favorite band
Smoking that cigarette
That will soon get you into all the other things that causes more problems for you
Try to avoid the guy you are about to let into your life
Remember that your not allowed to talk to strangers
Remember your mom told you that when you were 7
Its about time you listen to her
You will meet a girl
And you will end up hurting her
Dont take her to that club 
Where your band is about to play
Your not good at singing
And your bass playing still needs some work
Dont embarass yourself
It lowers your self esteem
And you will try to committ suicide
Multiple times
But dont worry 
It doesnt work
So stop trying to 
Kill yourself
Remember the night when you ran away
And went to go live with your aunt
Yea...
Shes about to kick you out
Look under your bed
You will find 500 dollars
You put it there when you were young
You forgot 
Thats why im writing you
Remember it
Take it and use it wisely
Dont use it on the drugs 
Dont use it on the beer
Use it towards a better future
So then i dont have to write this letter again.

12-13-12


Details | Free verse | |

Wake Me, When the Morning Comes

A night full of nightmares
and suicidal tendencies,
feeling pain rush, like tidal waves
crushing me and blood boiling
anger wishes and takes the best of me;
but can I heal my own heartbreak?
Will I ever find love again?
See the angel of death come to me,
smiles and says come with me.
Oh, Wake me, when the morning comes,
so I can show evil the light.

Feelings eternal and fragile,
she walks some lonesome highway
travelled by the ones who fall in love.
She a grand fool, who takes life for 
granted,
wake her with the morning light
and shine down rays of goodness and 
pride
and show her the path that leads back to 
me.

Wake me when the morning comes,
place her upon my doorstep
and a smile upon her loving face,
I'm not ready to move on just yet.
I don't want anymore nightmares
and nightly visits from the black angels.
I don't want to see blue eyed Death,
with his grinning skull and black robe.
I want to see the sunshine break through 
my window
and I want to hear the birds sing love 
songs,
and the trees dancing to the wind's sweet 
melody.
I want to awake to her sweet and glorious 
beauty.
Wake me, when the morning comes,
when I can open my eyes to anew
and see life in a new day,
and live life in a new way.

-10/5/2013-


Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.


Details | Haiku | |

Graffity

Immortality,
youth`s luminous graffiti,
drawn on winter`s wall.


Details | Free verse | |

Phoenix immortal

Mass of red and gold plumage
blood of supreme incessant immortality flows within
Only I alone can reign stronger
a fortiori
than the army of any man or beast
Symbolic of Christ, ressurection, afterlife
In death redeemed
consumed by fire
only to be born again of ashes
I will rise up again!

Injured from mortals wars 
I simply ameliorate and regenerate
I am fire and divinty
Continually watching the irresolute
ever changing, dynamic world around me
In despair I scrutinize and contemplate 
as all things moral 
are taken from me periodically and adinfinitum
lost ever and again

Armys of mortals have chased my blood for an age
in want of my immortality
Whilst they wrangle with continual want
and I would content for less
I have met no immortal contender
my glorification to you either unobtainable 
or a terrible curse
As a deity I serve this planet in all my supremacy
for I will foresee you all




Authors note

This piece was originally written as a two part collaborative effort with poet Kathleen C. 
Mannon, otherwise known by pen name kkatie55 . The prompt we were given to write to for 
contest was Mortal vs. Immortal in September of 2007, a month after I first started writing I 
believe. To begin with we both took our ideas and wrote individually then bringing our ideas 
together and changing slightly to fit from there… I tried to write so this would stand alone 
too, and have only just decided to bring it out to share for opinion. To see the write with the 
omitted verses written by the other poet, please feel free to go view at this link where each 
poet has initialled over their respective stanzas/verses. 
http://allpoetry.com/poem/3404940
Thankyou for your trouble in reading this explanation, but I do not wish to discredit its 
original intention nor take anything away from the other poet by placing this half here. I 
hope you shall be excited about reading it in full…


Details | Free verse | |

I Took The DARE and Survived It

Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.

Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…

Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be.  Nightmares.  Horrors. 
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…

A few things slipped in.  The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again.  Thankfully.

Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.

Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...  
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.

And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”

I felt relieved.

© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room... 
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a 
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have 
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are 
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to 
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real 
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot 
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed 
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep 
into your mind... Thank you..pd

Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.