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Death Beautiful Poems | Death Poems About Beautiful

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

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Details | Narrative | |

The Clouds


God, can I hold your hand and follow you?

"Gods voice"
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth. Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You ran to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles and tribulations. We could not speak, it was my light that kept you from going weak.

God, are you a dream of beauty? The holy book.
My preacher spoke of the afterlife, calling it paradise. 
I remember now, I felt this company once before, this light.
Many times, I forsake the light and still you never left my door.
I felt it on the day I was born, 
the day I became baptized in your holy name. 
I felt this light before, can you explain it once more? 
Lord pleases clarify the day I fell down to my knees, accepted Jesus as my savior? 
On that day, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my  failures’.  
Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"

"Gods voice" 
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road.  This light never left you. 
My sweet child did you not listen, 
Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. 
My child, you were not searching for the right answers.

My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray enough?

"Gods voice"
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself,  
I always answered even when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your soul's disguises.

Lord, I have other questions to ask. 
What should I expect out of my personal sins? 
My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence-- 
How is it that I am in your promise land?

"Gods voice"
Getting right with me has brought you here!

One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see My Daughter, Mothers, Sisters, family, and friends?


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Free verse | |


Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer

Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around. 
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…     
~BY: PD~

Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey 

There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~

(for Catie's: Re-write contest..) 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Free verse | |



Hi, grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, 
She waits for you.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night 

Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf

Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane, she handcrafted before she left

Hello, grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see her again
She will no longer be alone
Say hi to her, give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
Bye, grandpa

By; PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Sijo | |

The Roller Coaster

The roller coaster leans into a sky the color death. Alongside pines it winds its broken way, gripping earth’s gray stubble. In the moan of the wind, I conjure up the screams of children’s glee. Note: I was looking for a really unique way to describe the color of that sky in the picture. I asked hubbie for advice and all he could say was it looked like death. He hated the picture, but I found it to be a great depiction of derelict beauty. For the Derelict Beauty Poetry Contest of Debbie Guzzi

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Personification | |

Beautiful Day

She comes along
Dressed in her golden flowing 
Her skin adorned in pure white 
She carries grace down to her 
Her presence echoes rest in 

She comes to me
Gently she whispers
My innerness shivers
Softly she kissed me
Her pure essence lingers
She brings to me  endless 
I find the nerve to take her 
Our path exudes serenity
Divine to all eternity 

She's beautiful in every way
Don't think of this as my last 
And when I'm gone, don't shed 
no tear
Though flesh my rot beneath 
my wreath
This angel held my soul at 

Copyright © Tshego Khumalo

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

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Free verse | |

Flowers,,,Beautiful Flowers

Flowers...beautiful flowers.

These flowers will not replace my friend.
Their beauty will soon go the way of life-
Fade and wither and then take flight.

Piled upon this mound of dirt to mark our sorrow,
Offered as a sacrifice to soothe our souls.
Petal nor thorn could save this rose.

Like flowers cut down in height of beauty,
This face that bloomed and wore big smiles,
Is covered here to rest awhile.

Then beyond the markers numbered many,
Placed in rows to make order of death,
I saw something that took my breath.

Flowers...colorful flowers...that filled
The field yet fallow...waiting for the day
When friends and family gather...and pray.

Flowers...beautiful flowers.

Copyright © Ray Dillard

Details | Quintain (English) | |

Autumn Colours , Death So Bold

Autumn Colors (Death So Bold)

Resting upon cold , hard ground
leaves depleted Autumn's gold 
Solid vapors soon are found
in rested spirits of old
colors so bright, death so bold


English Quintain  Rhyme Scheme a. b. a. b. b. 
No specified measure 

Note:  Not required but given as reference only...
Syllables Per Line:  7 7 7 7 7  
Total # Syllables:  35  
Total # Lines:  5

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

Death, A Mystery So Dreaded

Death, A Mystery So Dreaded

What light will shine upon my demise
  perhaps a lone candle burning low
Penny for your thoughts sounds so wise
  will that light burn truly to glow!

Will light shadows dance upon the wall
  a lively jig, complete with shouts
Will I still hear my beloved ones call
  or even know to have such doubts?

Can I wander back, check on my friends 
  just a quick glimpse just to see
Shall death have twists, turns and bends
  or deep blackness merely engulf me?

My love, my life- will it not be missed?
If so, I await our sweet eternal tryst?

R.J. Lindley
Oct. 17th 1979  

Note-- 	Eileen Manassian mentioned in a 
blog comment that she thought my sonnets 
quite good. So I now break out this sonnet
from my private journal written 36 years ago 
when I was 25 years old(wild as a mustang).
I dedicate its public showing to her, my friend.

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |


cluck! cluck!! cluck!!

He hammers a nail into the hardwood,
wiping sweat from his brow as the scorching sun prides itself in the middle of the sky.

He examines a curve on the casket he is making,
he is dissatisfied, he grabs a chisel and begins to chisel away carefully.
As every splinter of wood falls to the ground he nods his head in satisfaction,
he stops to wipe more sweat from his brow
he mutters something to himself,
looks up to the sky angrily and curses the heavens for the heat.

But isn't it man who brought the sun closer?
well, that is what the govt official who came to our village told us,
"global warming" he called it.

I wonder why he labours so hard to make this ugly reminder of death look perfect,
the dead do not care about aesthetics,
I do not think they care so much what happens to their bodies here bury it, burn it, they get a new one either way.

Copyright © Ibukun Tosin

Details | Free verse | |

The Ascent And The Arrival

The Ascent And The Arrival

Who am of the ancient tribes of trees,
Climb slowly.
Aeons unguessed, ere I shall see the crest
Of the blue towers, love's high citadel
Hath reared, unutterably beautiful,
Unutterably holy.

With eternal harmony- Time peregrinates
Where inaudible - Gasps 
Find Elysian fields.

Robert J. Lindley, 11-05-2015

1. Aeons
plural noun: aeons
an indefinite and very long period of 
time, often a period exaggerated for 
humorous or rhetorical effect.
"he reached the crag eons before I 

2. peregrinates
3rd person present: peregrinates
travel or wander around from place to place.

3. Elysian
General use[edit]
Elysium (or the Elysian Fields), in Greek 
mythology, the final resting places of the 
souls of the heroic and the virtuous. 
It was ruled by Cronus.

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | ABC | |

There is a place

There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold. 

This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .

This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .

It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For  the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No  one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .

 money holds no value ,  Where you live , what you own,  has no significance here .

You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you . 
Hate will be shed at the door like an old jacket of no use. 

There is a place of beauty and  Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

Copyright © Shanity Rain

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 
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?
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

Copyright © brittney lopez

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Think of Me

Think of me and smile
Our time was shortly spent
Think for just a while
Of all the things we meant………
To each other we were Love, 
Laughter, Smiles and Joy
Think of all those things
Then think of us once more

Remember our first kiss
Remember our first time
Remember I was yours, 
Remember you were mine
The things that we would say
The things we use to do 
I heard you sing a song
I wrote a poem for you
Didn’t think we’d be together
Didn’t seek, but we did find
A precious hidden treasure
A love so true and kind

Now when the Angels come for me
My home now in the sky
Don’t hang your head in sorrow
For me don’t even cry
I will send a signal
And you will know the sign
The Sun will shine its brightest
The humming birds will sing
Midnight will be the darkest
Think of all those things

The wind will blow so gently
I’ll Whisper in your ear
You will smell the roses 
And feel my presence near
For you have known my spirit
For you have only seen
The beam of light now shinning
A dream that came to be
So just in case you’re wondering
It’s not because I’m free
But that I caught you smiling
And I knew, you had thought of me.

Patricia Templeton

"Women Only"

Copyright © Patricia Mitchell

Details | Terzanelle | |

An Epic Battle With A Simple Question

A beautiful heart pines from afar. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! Celestial winged heart beats faster, Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. Embarking from sun brewed and moonshine skies Two alien races, in war, collide. Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. All brothers' swords raise, marching with pride. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Two alien races, in war, collide. The angered clouds rain blood from the sky. A new path finally found. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Brothers' swords low now to the ground. A beautiful heart pines from afar. A new path finally found. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! In universe Out bound energy Where are we when we die?

Copyright © Edward McCormick

Details | Alliteration | |

Kartoon Knuckles

Draped and locked like a curtain in Guantanamo
I use my words to peel scalps like Geronimo
Just like a teen girl my mouth has a heavy flow
If arousal luminesces then I'll make you glow

They're calling me a villain cuz I steal girls like Bowser
Wowzer, think I just filled my trousers
Though unlike the lizard I don't lose them to Italians
Cuz after one night girls confuse me for a stallion

Heart of obsidian inlaid with gold
A tongue of adamantium that stays so cold
My life is a story that's never been told
And I'm hoping that the credits roll before I get old

Copyright © Stefan Hillyman

Details | Ballad | |

A House On the Cliff's Edge

There is a house on the cliff’s edge,
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
At night, the tide lifts high against a foggy moon
In the morning, gloomy clouds settle with the sea
At times, not even the birds are seen or heard
The house is left to nature’s caress

Home-crafted seashell chimes sway and sing with the wind
Crushed sand dollars lie together on the back porch
The shells were once whole, collected by the former owners
Long gone are they now, smiling with the moon
The owners are the very sound of the ocean spray,
Striking the rocks, announcing the cool dawn of day
They are not the dark, empty rooms,
The rooms that nobody thinks of as they go about their lives
The quiet owners are long gone—thought of only by one
A stillborn legacy about as tiresome as the sun,
When the clouds crisp out its beams . . .

A seawater puddle is in the middle of the dining room
Nobody knows it sits there, sinking in the floorboards
It used to be a far larger puddle after a storm,
Stealthily leaking into the house
But now it is small—so small—and the boards are moist,
Moist with its only companion amongst the instilled silence

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
They were not much for socials and gatherings
They always lived their quiet, happy lives
Without a care of the outside world,
Far from anybody’s thought
Miles from the nearest home
Where the next generation comfortably lives 

He never finished fixing that leak . . .

Sometimes the puddle gets bigger after other storms
And when it does, there is almost life there again
You can see the chandelier reflected on the unperturbed water
As a crystal dangles and falls from on high
The dark silence following the drop is as deep as thought . . .

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
There is merely a house on the cliff’s edge
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline

-March 21, 2013-

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Rhyme | |

No Fear

There is a place inside my head Where thoughts of other worlds will tread When I awaken from a dream Standing alongside a purple stream With a lime green cast upon the skies And a twinkling glimmer in my eyes Moons and stars that look so queer And a rushing sound within my ears I wonder if I should be afraid To be in a place quite so strange Roots of trees lying all around Whilst comes a rumbling from the ground There beyond the shivering leaves Many eyes staring back at me Out of the shroud of thickened mist On my hand is placed a gentle kiss The nerves of steel begin to fray With a restless feeling akin to dismay As a darkening shadow draws so near And yet still. I feel no fear. Suddenly aware of fields of green The most beautiful place I've ever seen A carpet of turquoise flows through the hills Mine greedy eyes can't get their fill With windows wide open to a soothing breeze Finding it's way through the forest of trees Leaving resonating echoes loud as a train As I felt a tremble inside my brain I hear whispers there upon my ear And yet still. I feel no fear The origin of such a beautiful song Grabbing my hand and pulling me along Oh it's the One who gave me life Father dearest with all your might Giving me the strength to let you go And become a part of the superlative show With a gentle hand once again to dry my eyes While I watch you capture such a glorious prize Deep down I can feel the time is near And yet still. I feel no fear Scattered pieces of a great full life Flash before mine deep inside A heart string is plucked to the tune of love Played by an angel sent from way up above While brilliant rays of light abound There I see you safe and sound Traveling back alone from where I came Crying buckets of tears like pouring rain Recalling the soft whisper you had to say "Be happy my child. We'll meet again one day." Feeling a presence always so near And yet still. I feel no fear

Copyright © Scarlett Sepulvado Anderson

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

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

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.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | I do not know? | |

Don't Shoot

Here sick in the thick of the actions of you
Contemplating a reaction- don't know what to do
All lost in the sauce trying to find our way
We'll get through this to God I pray
Michael Brown heaven has a space
Tell Travon I still see his face
Slaughter like, target practice and the hands of hate
I hope God comes down personally to orchestrate
Black president in the white house yet they're still trying to make us see
That racist is still alive and well in the hands of the enemy
Can you even see me pass the bullets you spray?
A little pass into the future of mine that you're taken away
As I lay on this ground struggling to breathe
I ask God why is it my turn to leave
Please Lord tell me now what did I do to deserve
to die by the one who is suppose to protect and serve

Copyright © Terria Bradshaw

Details | Verse | |

Justice For Cecil the Lion

Cecil the lion of Zimbabwe, famous and beloved,
Shot by a bow hunter after being lured from his home;
It took Cecil forty hours to die, how he must have suffered,
They tracked him down and shot, skinned and beheaded him.

It was senseless, cowardly, cruel and barbaric, 
Oh I weep for Cecil the lion with the rest of the world;
And all animals victims of trophy hunters who kill for the fun,
Our voices must be united and be strong, we must end poaching.

We must demand justice for Cecil and all animals,
The hunting for sport must be stopped as it is murder;
No amount of money makes it right, no more heads on walls,
No more animals killed by cowards with big egos and money to do it.

Sign a petition, make your voice heard loudly,
Laws need to change so that animals no longer die;
This particular killer will be tracked down just like he did,
But we will be more humane, we won't shot, skin and behead him.

This coward in hiding must face justice in Zimbabwe.

August 26, 2015


Written by Broken Wings

For the contest , What Is Your Form Of Justice, sponsor, Tammy Reams

First Place

Note: Image placed on poem after judging as sponsor did not want images on entries, but now that the contest is judged, I wanted everyone to see how beautiful Cecil was.

Copyright © Broken Wings

Details | Free verse | |

Anorexia Nervosa

A child
No more than 12 years old
Sees images of women
She looks in the mirror
She doesn't see the image
Her body doesn't fit the mold
Movies, TV and magazines
Tell her she is not what they want
She is not thin
She is not beautiful
Everyday her eyes cry as she looks at who she is
The perfect her hidden within
The beautiful soul they will not let her see
She diets
She starves
Still she does not fit the mold
She feels unloved
Eating less than a cracker a day
Throwing up the scant food she eats
Her body changes
Wasting away
They make her up
She wears a beautiful white dress
They close the lid
Denied the perfect her
The person she should have been
She lies in eternal rest
But she is loved
She is wanted
She will be missed

Copyright © R. e. taylor

Details | Free verse | |


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 
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!

Copyright © Marty Owens

Details | Free verse | |

The Red Empress

Snarling contempt hiding behind a warm smile
Your black heart throttles your deception
Words spoken are a poison
Shielding my mind
A current of blood trails your wake
Cracking the mantle
The foundation crumbles
Grey ash billows from the marble
In your summer dress
Now dark stained with the deceit
Decrepit and impotent
Quake at your presence
 Blinding pain
Necks whiplash in your scorn
All shall flee
All shall fail
My pain is your fuel
The pyre burning strong within me
Lash at me more
Push me away
Blood from the pores
Crying at the past
You built us up
We were to last
The more taken away
Beckons me to remain
The others matter not
It’s for you to say
Sit upon your throne, Empress
The skulls craft your chair
Black veins are your skin’s décor
Your snarl begs for more
Smoke and ash in my vision
The world is smoldering ruin
Cries of the damned excite you
Grip me by my neck
Flames lick our bodies intertwined
Brief flashes of your promise
Shall we burn forever in your reign?
 Or should you suffer too;
And writhe in our pain?

Copyright © Natalie Barber

Details | Quatrain | |

The Mirrors Spoke

The fear of her looks
Became thorns in her side
Her images were shattered
Because the mirrors decide

This beautiful girl
Who sees a different face
She hears the world laughing
No matter where she is in place

In her bedroom at home
She faces her demons alone
Unknown to her family
For years she has roamed

In her dreams one night
She receives her wish
Surrounded by mirrors
She cuts her wrists

Because the fear of her looks
Had penetrated so deep inside
This beautiful girl
Who now, no longer resides

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Rhyme | |


In a beautiful green valley 
Where wild flowers grow 
Comes the first blanketing of winter's snow 
The clouds up above float luxuriously by 
As I lay and stare at the wonderous sky 
I can hear the wind whisper thru the trees 
And smell the crisp air in the gentle breeze
I can not touch or feel
The feeling is slightly surreal 
I cast my eyes down 
To see what lays ahead
It is then that I realize that I am dead

My body is draped in a long black dress
My skin is absolutely colourless
It's a frightening feeling I must confess 
I can hear the priest saying a few kind words 
And in the background the beautiful harmony of birds 
Sniffles and sobs reach my ears 
I guess I didn't make it to my golden years
My eyes survey the group gathered round 
A tear in the eye of each could be found 
It is then that I see my only boy 
And my love for him shines with so much joy 
Suddenly a sadness fills me where once I was glad 
As I realize I will never again kiss that sweet lad 

He's saying goodbye 
And I must too 
I just don't know if I have the strength to do 
A soft voice calls to me from above 
"Come home my child", it says with love 
"Come home and be free, Come and live with me"
I yearn to drift into that heavenly grace 
But I can't bear the look on my child's lonely face
I drift just a little above 
And turn to look back with sadness and love

Be good my son, be happy and carefree
Don't cry or remain sad, think of me and be glad
I will be waiting for you at heaven's gate 
There I will sit and patiently wait
And when your work here is done 
I will welcome you home
Then you and I will never be alone
I know that he can't hear the words in my head
For I know I am really and truly dead
A gentle hand touches my arm 
I know that it is time to go
And so I walk toward the heavenly glow 
Leaving no footprints in the brand new snow

Copyright © Bernadette Langer

Details | I do not know? | |

Death of a Lover

Once there was a Love so blissful and colorful
Every word that uttered forever are truthful
Sweet caressing soothing sensation
whisper melodies for relaxation

Over the years of a beautiful relation
Never came a sad story in the situation
Foreverloved everything is meaningful
Memorabillas are all unforgettable

But life of all is really unstable
One must go to his destination
We all go under in different time and horizon
Love will remain but life is not stretchable

You touched me in a most special way
waked me with a beautiful sunshine
Unbelievable that we became sinful
Forbidden love i know you are mine

I want to sacrifice to make your life whole
If only i can give my breath to your soul
For now i must give my faithful vow
In front of cold body of my loving man!

Copyright © cecilia cortez

Details | Free verse | |

Beautiful Monster

Beautiful Monster 

Always far from reality
Punished beneath the stars
For things, I've done.
History rewrites itself
disoriented by evil
By others, life goes on
forgotten page
an entire career 
Washed by Deviled hands.
Burning to the ground
Chambers of fraud 
Pride creates the beauty 
 --The Tripple H' Song--
Brought forth
Ringmaster, hidden thoughts
Flights to turn fate
Beautiful on the outside
Above the gallows
Now 10 feet under
A monster indeed

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~ 
For Contest

It’s a great honor and privilege to write with one of poetry soups finest poets.  
  I appreciate being given this opportunity to collaborate with Poet Destroyer A,
Who took the theme I presented her with, establishing a magnificent end.

Copyright © Israel Curtis C.