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Tree Death Poems | Death Poems About Tree

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

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Details | Rhyme |

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend


Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Abbey


Amid the woods and snow he saw her form,
predestined oracle he sensed this was,
her recollected glance, was lone in storm,
outside the chapel she became first cause .

Lit were the chandelier's ocher chandelles,
his heartbeat thrummed an airy rhythmic spell,
the forest snowstorm reeled - shaped ghostly belles
invited him beneath the ringing knell.

Their Angel's bliss, his soul received in flames,
adept and kind the whisper of her voice,
"- Forgiveness calms those who indulge in blames;
devoutness is the prelude of free choice."

Outside he stepped beneath the Abbey's knell:
His voice dispersed above the snow and mass,
in cold embraced the iron wrought of bells,
- as waxen light passed through the chapel's glass.

His mind and woods enjoined in forceful prayer,
spells sacrosanct and numinous instilled,
in abstinence the sanctified abbe,
abandoned Convent life to years and thrills.

Escaped then he, to meet the woods in dark,
amidst their sovereign heights he was her groom,
continuum of time and space to arc,
his childhood's wraith became in mists and tomb.

© G. V. 01-04-2012 All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Rhyme |

The tree of life

A lonely tree stands in a field
Branches entwined in one
And as those branches come to life
They reach up to the sun

This tree with all it's energy
just like a woman so it be
It's branches swaying in the breeze
just like a mother's offspring, these

And so the lonely tree does age
The human kind out living
But we all end up just the same
Our flesh to earth be giving

And thus our lives all end the same
No matter what we be
Some have long lives, some much less
In life's sweet mystery


Details | Rhyme |

" Logic? "

To every thing there is a season,
A time to bring the reasoning,
Higher logic` of heart’s project,
Into view, for the mind to review,

For some say the mind`  is the only logic,
Leaving love’s heart without a project,

This mistake, takes the cake,
From this illusion` humanity must awake,

For tis the season` for higher reasoning,
And this will we do, as through God we pursue,

Love’s higher logic` God’s higher project,
An undertaking` of re-awakening,
A mind asleep, by it’s peep,

God’s Logic; the cosmic of higher mind’s project,......................................(Isaiah 55:8-9)
Love’s Faith; built on higher logic,..............................................(Hebrews 11:1-3 & 5-6)
Not on humanity’s`  earthly minded projects,
For it will always try to dodge it,
By lower logic,
Actually` enough said,  the lower mind level logic` is dead,.......................(Genesis 2:16-17)

While actually, God’s higher logic, the cosmic mind’s project, did not dodge it, 
Respect of  love`  gave the choice to man, the level of plan,
By level of chosen logic, man chose his own project,
By tree of life, or tree of strife, 
Would it be life, by tree of life,
Or death’s tree, of the mind’s strife,
The heart's, sacred start,
Or mind’s depart, from it’s heart,

Now you know the rest of the story, life’s glory,
For death was impaled, the stake did not fail, love swelled,...............(Colossians 2:13-14)
Drawing us all by love,  above,
The logic of death,
That death`  the mind did bequeathed,
Leave the dead dogs, lying in the grass,
For death has passed!!

 Dedication; "Diogenes Zuniga " I though of your personal undying faith in Love, the higher 
logic of God, who is love. All the while I was writing this, may God richly reward you with 
many fruits of love's logical righteousness, for it is the true riches of heaven. Stay logical, in 
love, my brother. Sincerely, Moses 

9-25-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Details | Epigram |

WHY BE A NAKED TREE

Why be a naked tree and endure winter's agony?
It should be forever warm and sunny...
to watch wild flowers grow by a spring!
Why be a naked tree and be unable to think?


Details | I do not know? |

Alone A Tree In Mourning

A single bee
Alone a tree.
A single day in morning.
His slicker sly 
Of catching eyes.
His sweeter side of aging.
Like sticky seeds,
These blossom beads.
The winter plants are dying.
A drunken bee
Flies lazily,
Brought down by nectar drinking.

Our springs are wet
With sweet forgets.
Our hearts forever bleeding.
Our summers heat,
These days retreat,
Our only summer setting.
Our summers die
In lullabies.
I wish I wont stop dreaming.
A passer by
I might ask why
Alone a tree in morning?

And possibly 
He’d die to be 
My only glimpse of fleeting.
Without a care 
Our pulses dare
To reach the height of running.
A gentle sigh,
An open mind,
Holds within each waiting.

His ancient cry
Of reasons why.
His simple song of saving.
I'll never die 
He'll say tonight
While other dawns are breaking.
A passer by,
I might ask why
Alone a tree in mourning? 


Details | I do not know? |

WISHING, HOPING ,PRAYING

Wishing, Hoping, Praying

I wish so badly that I was dead
Found in a tree hung under head
The tender kiss felt from a rope
Its for this end that I do hope
To end the pain felt day to day
Its for my death that I do pray
So I am wishing, hoping and praying
That from a tree ill soon be swaying
Its not the fear of being dead
Its living life that I do dread
Its living in this hell on earth
To the day I die back to my birth
And all the days in between
Make this life seem so obscene
So when the day does finally come
And to my wish I do succumb
Ill look and find a hopeful tree
Then ill pray on bended knee
Ill climb the tree a limb up high
And to my neck the rope apply
Look around give one last sigh
And when I drop begin to cry

By Mr. E. Jones


Details | I do not know? |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Villanelle |

Deadly Raven

Sitting atop the old decaying tree Is a deadly raven quite pathetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see An unsuspecting group thinks they are free Raven thinks of a move that’s genetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree No-one knows what it’s like to truly be One of this group, death is just magnetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see Down he swoops taking one soul completely Returns to tree, looking quite poetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree The raven smiles as he caws wickedly Soul collecting might be more aesthetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see The raven flies high looking lustfully All that he’s collected that’s prophetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree Where his lusting eyes do more than just see
Russell Sivey


Details | Ballade |

Fallen tree

Fallen Tree.

A fallen tree lies on the ground
Its life, long disappeared
It lies there dead and bent and burned
And yet in death it’s weird
The pattern of its silent branches
Have a life all of their own
All grey and gnarled and petrified
As I stand here all alone.

In death there be a certain beauty
One only has to look
The sacred truth be all around
Which can’t be found in books
This great old tree that’s fallen down
It’s considered now diseased
And yet it emphasizes life
Life’s power be increased.

For all the bush looks more alive
Against this fallen tower
In death it seems to magnify
The force of nature’s power
As its branches etched against the sky
They seem to wave and dance
In this spot among the bush land trails
It seems that life’s enhanced




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