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Age Death Poems | Age Poems About Death

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

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Details | Free verse | |

How to Die

At a carnival- in my dream
I saw an old man had made 
a rocket - and blasted off
I saw it go overhead and at first thought
It was a decoy
because no-one could come back to Earth safely
From such a blast
Then - I assumed because he was old 
he wanted to die in a 
Blaze of glory
Next I see his rocket turn into a parachute
And he has on snow skis and poles
We all make a space for him to land.
As he lands - the street turns into a river- 
and he manages to land upright
on the skis - on the water.
But I think then he had a heart attack
From the joy of landing 
Suzanne Delaney


Details | Verse | |

Companion

The old man sits in his chair by the door
His dog lies beside him curled up on the floor
Ever since that day when the man lost his wife
that dog had, to him, been the whole of his life

With his constant companion through all those long days
he'd sit in the sun enjoying its rays
It seemed like for hours the old man had dozed
A faint smile on his face and his eyes tightly closed

The dog licks his hand and emits a faint whine
and looks up at his face as if for a sign
but the man doesn't move, just continues to smile
so the dog lays back down on the floor for a while

The dog gets its ball, lays it down at his feet
but the man takes no notice, just stays still in his seat
He nudges the ball as if he were saying
"What's wrong with you, why aren't you playing"

Then, as if in acceptance, the dog quietly sighs
and looks up one last time with adoring eyes
The dog keeps his vigil through the night 'til next day
ever since, that sad morning, when the man passed away 


Details | Free verse | |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
FAT
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
repeating,
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
no
is daddy raping her?
no
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
pass...
did anyone molest her? 
pass....
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
more... 
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
FAT!!!!!!
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
FAT!
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...


Details | Lyric | |

WE ALL DIE

My piety,my poetry ,my love
All are in vain
my music, my love ,my mind
All are running insane

My rhymes are all crooked
I can't write a perfect song
Looks like my life is worthless
my music, my poetry its all gone

Behold the paradox,
In these old rhymes 
living in a worthless life 
All these times 

The music's almost over
just need to turn out the light
I need just one leap
Need to show on last fight

I need to create something
something that makes you feel
the goal isn't to live forever
Its to create something that will


Details | Ballad | |

A message from Emilly

A message from Emilly
By Angelo Casiano


A message from above to those of you I love.
I love you more than you’ll ever know,
Even more now that I’m gone.
And my love for you will grow and grow,
Like the chorus to a song.
I had to leave much sooner than
 I thought, I must admit.
But you know mom, until I’m done,
 I’m never gonna quit. 
I left behind some parts of me,
 I have so much to give.
Because of you I’m strong enough,
 to help some others live.
So Daddy when you think of me,
While you watch the Phillies play. 
I’ll be sitting next to you. I’ll be with you every day.
 You’ve given me the best of you.
And now I’m giving back.
I will love you for eternity. No matter were I’m at.


Details | Free verse | |

Phantoms You Have Carried

The clearest blue became mottled with age,
and I only recently began to notice.
Time-soaked eyes, foggy mirror to my own,
reflecting a frail wire, just out of reach.
Leading to a skull-shaped cellar,
therein lay the contents, shadows,
wavering in small glimmers of truth.
Reserved but yearning, they call to me.

Whispers carress my lobes; 
they are phantoms you have carried.
They ride on waves of joy and anguish,
snapshots of my tiny feet trodding down halls,
chasing cats with remote-control race cars.
Then I tumbled over a carpeted ledge
and bent your office-drawer key.
Maybe you'd suspected those young paws
were much stronger than they looked.

As time sped all around me, your atmosphere grew thin,
and labored breathing stole the spark from your limbs.
When cells began to replicate like narcissists in the West,
your hovel became a war zone, and I, a refugee.
You never caught your breath in the wreckage,
and when a second bout of war came, your lungs gave out.
I watched it happen, at a loss.
I remember your mouth agape, eyes glazed, wide,
as, in your final breath, you ran towards something I could not see.

Now, the battleground you once crawled through
has been cleared of every trace, every tuft of dog hair,
and all the shining documentation to prove you were an artist.
And how you were an artist, having sculpted so much of my
lanky willow limbs, my dense, ferocious heart.
I have a case of survivor's guilt.
I am writing every day a mystery, wading through
my own metaphysical mess, only faintly aware of yours,
the stuff that lingers like shadow people,
darting in and out of my peripheral vision.

I only wish they'd speak to me and
divulge what last you saw, or that I could
re-activate your smart phone and read
the very last text message you sent.


Details | Rhyme | |

Bouncebackability

Born I was, still alive today, down, but I'll be back to say Even at a small age, when our house burnt to the ground Disorientated, confused, in it's smoke filled surround With no other place to go, to a Caravan we called our home It was the events after this, that allowed my mind to roam Little me playing in a field, on a broken bottle I fell Crimson fountains erupted, I survived, as I'm here to tell That Monday night so special, Boys Brigade we headed to be I tried to run faster, but my brother was faster than me Out of the opening he went, boy running, was he skilled He was there, but gone the next, knocked down, my brother killed My mind now in roam and wander, fathers health started to slide Where does a seven year old turn to, to whom does he confide Pillar to post I headed, fostered out, and to children's homes Six years later many more tears, my father in deathly roam To my father I kept my promise, to the Royal Navy I would go Whilst training, caught under a raft, my life nearing slow Pulled from the water was I, nearly drained of what little I had A release of water, a gasp of air, hours later feeling so glad Eventually what I'd always wanted, to be happy and family be Married to the girl whom I'd know, would love to marry me But to a colleague I'd declared my worries, of a phone call I'd take For History would repeat itself, to awaken to a possible wake That call finally arrived, to the telephone, speaking to my eldest son Liam his younger brother, knocked down, my tears in run I'm blessed that he was saved, which cancelled out that call I only wish that technology was, that I'd have a firewall This is me up to date, apart this last weekend Again I thought I lost my youngest, once again relieved of strain Hours up at the Hospital, the first human skull I've seen A serious cut to his head, but what it could have been This my life's chapter, around the corner we never know But all I can say to the above, around me continues to glow .


Details | Free verse | |

The Old Woman

Shawled against 
the damp night chill,
she waits
slumped low, 
crumbled
in her favorite chair.
Old and tired 
she waits.
Eyes, once bright, 
cast a milky stare 
blind to all 
but distant memories 
and moments carved 
treasured wooden dolls 
faces and form 
now whittled away
unrecognizable.
Lines and furrows etch 
the frail countenance
struggling in vain to see
a fast approaching 
destiny.
Daylight dims as twilight fades,
and lurking in the corner there,
A Dark Shadow
smiles. . . . .
as the old woman waits 
Alone.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Beautiful people

People make me smile the way 
their eyes shine when they talk 
about something they love 
when they feed me food. Or tell 
me how much they love me 
when I look into someone's 
eyes and see it I see that look 
in their eyes I see love in them 
When I see someone laugh and 
have fun in what they do 
The way they cry for there lost 
ones
When they give me a smile and 
tell me how beautiful I am 
People are beautiful well some 
are and I wish someday I can 
find someone who will look at 
me and say "you have that look 
in your eye"    what look?
"Happiness" 
I want to find someone so 
beautiful in the inside I can't 
stay away they amaze me with 
what they say an do how they 
will dance in the rain and know 
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a 
rainy day and just talk about 
the stars 
I want someone beautiful


Details | Rhyme | |

Does it really matter

Does it really matter?

Does it really matter?
What you’ve done, or what you’ve been
Or whether you be special
{What ever that word means}
Whether you see one hundred
Or live for an hour or so
One day the  ‘Reaper’ he will come
And off with him you’ll go.

Does it really matter?
Whether you be Prince, or king
Millionaire or poorest pauper
It doesn’t mean a thing
He’ll have no sympathy for you
That one in sombre black
One day it will be time for you
To make that final act

Does it really matter?
That each must turn to dust
This be the way it’s always been
So in it you must trust
Relax and let the river flow
Then what will be, will be
You’re born alone. You’ll die alone
This is the tale of thee.

5 November 2014


Details | Rhyme | |

After the fall

Quite frankly, I don't remember at all
You see I was quite young when I took my first fall.
Don't know which parent was there to catch me
Or how hard the decision was to stand back and let me. 
Did I topple forward or backward, or who made the call. 
And who scooped me up crying
After the fall.
I can't remember the joy of first letting go
And taking that step without holding on. 
Groping my way forward
Leaning against the wall
I got back up 
After the fall.
As the Earth spun the years flew by so fast
At 17 I finally knew everything at last!!
Unexpectedly, I fell once again,
Head over heels this time 
And out on a limb.
I was so sure of that bet
I gambled it all
Heart bruised abused and then broken
After that fall.
And then I broke my own promise 
To not love again.
Hungry for life
I gambled to win.
Life is a theatre of first steps first 
A one act play with no time to rehearse.
Co starring in roles
Cast without planning.
"Never more" echoes 
The raven still chanting.
Undaunted unwilling
To let darkness win all
Trusting Father to be there
After the fall.
Then the day came
When I had a son
To let him learn the word hot And hope he'd not run,
Would he still love me
Or trust me at all
When I pulled my hand back
And allowed him to fall?
And knowing I'd be there again
To help him to stand
And knowing he might never walk
If I didn't let go of his hand
And hoping he didn't revert back to a crawl
When I let go of his hand
And allowed him to fall.
As the earth kept on turning
My heart kept yearning
My son now a man
Living and learning.
He hasn't held my hand now in a very long time
The cats in the cradle slowly plays in the back of my mind.
I looked in the mirror today
And noticed my dad.
And remembered a talk that we'd never had.
Remembering how he seemed towering and tall 
And was there every time 
After each fall.
I lose my balance these days now and again
My steps aren't as sure
As they once might have been. 
In the winter of life now
I feel so small
And wonder who'll catch me
If I take a fall. 
I suppose I'll just have to trust Father
With both great things and small 
To pick me up on the other side
When I take my last fall.


Details | Lyric | |

Velvet Wings

Ignorant to passing time
Reality strikes its deafening chime
Unspoken words pass between
I and you, my darling queen

Lay your weary head to rest
With your arms across your chest
Now it's time to close your eyes
Whisper your final goodbyes

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

Embracing tears of bitter pain
Falling lightly with the rain
Out of reach, I hear your song
Alone again, I sing along

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

From the night. . .
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I never saw you so alive
So alive
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I'll never ever say goodbye
Never say goodbye

Life has ended, you have won
Death befriended, pain is gone
Fly away into the light
Crystal clear and shining bright
Close your eyes for final rest
Meeting among the blessed

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

From the night. . .
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I never saw you so alive
So alive
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I'll never ever say goodbye
Never say goodbye

I let you go so you'll be free
Cross the path of darkened sea
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I can never say goodbye
Never say goodbye


Collaboration with Rebecca Larkin <3
A song, and lyrics


Details | Rhyme | |

Pal

Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Both quietly passed away.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.

She smiled.  “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too.  His name was Pal.”


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 | Quatrain | |

Average Age 19

Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for

Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain

Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin

I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail

Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled

Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss

How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run

I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance





James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "



Details | Free verse | |

Forgotten You

Forgotten you
As your mind collects the memories of yesterday
Forgotten You
Epiphanies tie into knotty strings of realization
That very moment. . . 
You merely exist

Back then. . .those smiles
Those. . .distant laughs
Some you remember by name
Gone now maybe
Like the exhalation of the wind
Others dispersed in the world of arbitrary happening
Like leaves from falling, man-made trees
There is no doubt that they have
Forgotten you

Activate the bomb
Ignite the fuse
And you’re on next year’s history book
Never forgotten
But drained of all remaining good

That smile you gave
That happiness
The warm embrace so long ago
Salt-coated with piles of rubbish
Over last remaining mental spurts of comfort
Evil, evil, evil, evil, EVIL. . .
Always absorbed and remembered
. . .though never forgiven. . .

All good and gracious sentiments
Packed up in a box set nonchalantly in Downstair’s storage
. . .that chair with the broken leg in the corner of the room
That mangled cobweb holding a dangling, lifeless spider
A drowned sailor’s hat drifting through the current of the ocean
The single tear from a soldier’s vigilant, memory-stricken eye
The frustrating thoughts of a mute
The unchanged. . .HATED deformations

Forgotten you. . .
One soul brings to light weary, unthought-of happenings
Wedged deep into what she can only imagine
With not even a hint of understanding
. . .of the pain. . . .of the bewildering distortions
Of the ugly. . .
One soul merely vomits sickly verse after verse

As humanity embraces its downfall
The poet hangs onto her unjustifiable, forgotten. . .
Words


Details | Rhyme | |

Old Age

It came upon me unawares
As I bargained to make a living.
Thus absorbed in daily cares
The years I deemed forgiving.

Getting old was ages away
I told myself each new year.
"I'm still young," I liked to say,
"I'm certain to stay right here."

But the clock began to chime
Messages in muted tones.
I was running out of time,
A blackening in the bones.

I felt it too in others' acts
Addressing me as sir.
They excused my mislaid facts
Ever pretending I didn't err.

A godly mercy attends old age,
The past becomes a blur.
It eases one off life's stage
Thinking things that never were.


Details | Narrative | |

The Benefits of Old Age

 
As he sat on his old front porch gently rocking his swing.
    His old mind a million miles away not really thinking on anything.
Staring into space he just let his old thoughts run free.
     Wondering how he got to this place, all alone and lonely as could be.
Just killing time somehow became the daily norm.
     Without someone to share your thoughts somehow life can take on a brutal 
form.
His children are all grown and they never come by.
   They’ve got lives of their own was his reasoning as to why.
Was I this selfish, as he tried to recollect those memories from way, way back.
     Maybe I was he thought as he tried to get his thoughts back on to track.
A tear ran down his old face as he got up to go back inside. 
     The pain was still there too hard for him to hide.
There was nothing left for him to prove, he was just an old man and this he knew.
     Everyday played out the same as he longed for this day to be through.
His nights were quite short while his days seemed to never end.
    As he sat down at his table and called out to Jesus his only true friend.
He said Father when You’re ready please take me home.
    I’m tired of this heartache of living alone.
As he sat at the table he felt a sudden peace.
    He felt his soul being lifted in its final release.
With angels all around him he ascended in flight.
   Heading for heaven he’d be there fore night.
As he reached Heavens Gate there stood our Lord.
    He said I’m sorry but you weren’t ready I know it was hard.
He said I know that you’re ready so please come on in.
    There is someone that’s been waiting she is waiting within.
                         


Details | Free verse | |

Tears Of Serious

            Tears Of Serious

Two rivers of silver approach you at a time by crying
Taking on water in rain as they serpentine by around black rocks
And other fears that gather up about their banks
One silver moving wall of water is shallow in its depths
Remains nameless all the same, once again, then evaporates
Hides, mourning on the shore and then it is no more
The other moving liquid body flows by, goes by Serious
It turns in pain, winds around the landscape meanderings
Serpentines, absorbing rain and young children to its depths
No one knows why the river runs so long so deep
But there are tears in it originating from old faces
Forming on old mountains as they trickle down, cascading
Tears of Serious are created from many deaths
Now in her depths   


Details | Free verse | |

Grandma

Grandma,

It has been two ears
Since I got the call.
“she’s gone”
Gone. Forever. No more.
I sat in bed and cried.
Cried so hard I would shake.
Tried to put on my bravest and happiest face.
Failed.
Didn’t get to say goodbye
Didn’t get to tell her
That I love her one more time
Last grandparent alive
And I didn’t get to say goodbye.
Sixteen days off of life support
Slowly dying,
Slowly suffocating
A year and a half later and I get to go to her grave.
Final resting place
A slab of stone and a chunk of grass.
She’s up with grandpa, 
Finally happy
But down here, my heart hurts
I miss her phone calls
3 a day
Mom says she’d want me to smile 
When I think of her, not cry
But I can’t help it
Two years later, 
I still shake.
Still sob until it hurts
Valentine’s Day is the second hardest day
Her birthday.
The whole family hasn’t been together for two years
There’s a very big whole in our hearts
She belongs there
She is a beautiful angel now
Watching over her family, smiling.
I hope to god that she is proud of me
Of whom I've become
I would give anything to hear her say
“Hi honey”
She didn't have a mean bone in her body,
Always wanted the best for her kids, grand kids.
We were her whole life
I regret not answering her phone calls.
I will never forget her
She will always be in my heart,
And every April 20th, I will remember her.
Remember her smile,
Her laugh,
How she loved her Moo-Moos,
And her St. Patricks day.
She is with her husband now, 
Happy in heaven.
Finally at peace
I know she is watching us
Everywhere we go, she is there
Tell grandpa that I say hello,
Beautiful angel.
Rita Seitz
O4,2O,2O11


Details | Salaam | |

Yeh khaalipan


Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Bio | |

Outside looking In

Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...


Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Erotic Death

Their erotic death or life eternally,
Directed trance like powers of eyes.
Along with blindness of surprise,
Delivers humanities lustful dormancy,
Creating a new formal entity,
The power that sparks darkening skies,
Lurid scheme of evil does disguise.
Enticingly becomes the destiny.

Transformations brought forth.
One bite brings immortal youth.
Never to grow old, what worth,
Ignoring legitimate truth,
Whether by choice or not henceforth,
We walk upon night in sleuth.


written for contest
Poems from the Vampire!

Cecil Hickman


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

acceptance

   Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing 
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
 to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order


Details | Elegy | |

Raindrops and Teardrops


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Aging

I rise to face yet still more life again
And know my day will be about my age
Through sight that makes all things appear opaque
I hear about each third word spoken clear.

I walk with cane a slow but sure tempo
And get to where I aim without much fuss
Yet still it seems I burden those who care
To take the time to bare my years nonpluss. 

Each time I rise to face my life once more
Trumps thoughts of laying still without regard
For pains one takes to move upon this earth
Or see and hear with clarity implored.

I thank my Lord for each new day He gives
And givers who see beyond one’s struggle
With patience and always kind words spoken
Dignity and respect to me maintained.


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 | Carpe Diem | |

Dig

Broken,beaten,blind and lost
All but a spark of hope left to keep warm
But dig and claw on bruised muscles, on broken limbs
Until the light day fills your sight
Left blinded no more
Dig
Until the soft fresh air blows the spark to a flame and ignites your will
Dig
Until the ground beneath is solid enough to stand
Walk,until the pain is mastered and stumbling ceases.
And you can say:
This will not be my grave.


Details | Lyric | |

In Memory

She lay upon her bed of pain;
The chrysalis grew dull and gray;
The colors which we knew as her
Were fading fast, so fast, away;
But, underneath the fragile clay,
We saw new colors burning through
Of soul triumphant in its flight
Approaching Glory's avenue.
It seemed we heart her spirit groan,
Her frail flesh tremble 'neath the weight
Of wings fast-pulsing with new life
And yearning for the Infinite.

She's free! Her dewy wings soft-dried
By hovering angel's gentle breath
Have lifted once, now twice they stir
And find the air: can this be death?