“A life leaving traces after death . . .
a blessing we extol with every breath.”
__by Poet
So many years ago my parents passed,
each leaving well before considered old.
And so, for them, my sorrow yearned at last
to know that they live on, as scriptures hold.
At their two graves, I stood and wept goodbyes
and then each night prayed long for God to say
that they were safe with Him in Heaven's skies;
please have them show me in their special way.
My prayers were answered by a dream she sent.
Dear Mom, with twinkling eyes, threw me a kiss.
Then, forming hugs with arms embraced, she went
among the clouds, assuring me her bliss.
Years later, when my Dad had passed away,
a rose upon his coffin ended strife;
by chance, within a book was placed to lay
upon some words that proved Eternal Life.
Two loved ones leaving traces after death!
This filled my heart with comfort through the years.
And now, I hold the truths displayed in depth;
so thankful that these answers dried my tears.
I could explain what happened a million times
I could tell you what went through my mind
What I wore. What I drank.
But they wouldn’t believe me either way
I could tell you what he whispered into my ear
I could tell you this was always my fear
I could tell you he will reoffend
But by the time you believe me
He will have done it again
If I die young,
bury me in satin —
lay me down gentle,
on a bed of roses.
Let the river take me,
but send me away
with the words of a love song.
When the world reminds you of me,
write me a poem.
Not just any poem,
a love poem —
one that keeps me close, even after.
Beautiful tree leaf
Multi-colored rain droplets
Illuminated
As far as I know, it depends on two things: first, Allah’s mercy and will; and second, what a person did — in word and deed — before his/her death.
Please, note that childhood is excluded from this concept, because, children (all young children, kids) are not held accountable. Because, kids die before reaching the age of puberty; they enter Paradise in peace.
Death is not the end!
There shall be "Parazach" life
Before Judgment Day
Dying so slowly, burn the piled embers
Where I remember fire before your ghost
Touched the cold burial within my hearth.
Night snow on mantle, in belly; the hearth
Must fall to light still dark as the embers
Could melt once again my body; your ghost
Is dying within me when sheds your ghost
On skin; cold yet comes of the swollen hearth,
The dying's way with me in the embers,
The embers catch your ghost's gaze in the hearth.
surrounded by space
in a soundtrackless cinéma vérité;
long stares out of the window,
cigarettes after sex;
finally, she whispers, 'do you love only me?'
the question remains unanswered
while seasons fade.
the walls start closing in,
echoing the decade of quietude;
the busy streets outside remain,
stiff gins after six;
finally, she sighs, 'do you still love me?'
and while seasons fade,
the question remains.
That wall, friend, we leapt
Time's, fainter to stray
Naughtiest children bragged of!
Home; furthest away!
"Nothing of danger
Its hair-raising threat
But is, if stealthy and slow
With full consent met."
History returns
wearing its familiar scars—
time turns on itself
old wounds remember their names
locking onto now again.
Sky becomes a page
written over by old wounds
inked in ash and blight—
each generation writes on
what the last could not erase.
If time turns, will scars
stain the sky with red scratches?
tainting what comes next—
or will stars recall their place
when we forget who they were.
The last few days have been tough
with the weight of life getting heavy
and hearing that the world lost one of the
most special and kindest entertainers to ever
live, she gave so much of herself, her wealth,
her words, and her heart throughout her life
You will be missed, Dolly Parton!
You left the world a better place than you found it,
you touched more lives than you could count,
you gave the world your beautiful words and
you gave ME the desire to be a better person,
AFTER my cup of Ambition, that is!
Far simpler to pray the older one gets,
the awareness of little time left wraps your mind
and thoughts and regrets flood your inner being.
How sad that I cannot relate this age-old wisdom,
this depth of tranquility, to those that have years to squander.
I wonder if the feeling of remorse and the worth of a prayer
is only revealed to us when we can almost touch
the gates of the great here after.
After night
Now that my Father
Ended the night very fast
I am glad that my Father
Brought for us the new day
Last night I left all the windows
Open in my house
So that I could air
My house
Because it was very hot
Inside my house
Also this morning the birds
Woke me up
Singing their beautiful tunes
Built to ease bottled up restlessness,
a reprieve from overheating.
Left frustrated by fleeting,
all of the after hours
are fading so fast.
The bittersweet
summer wind
will not
stay.
Love is God
Love is Free
Free of guilt
Free of enemies
Enemies are physical
Enemies are spiritual
Spiritual rituals
Spiritual warfare
Warfare on the soul
Warfare on the mind
Mind drifts
Minds control
Control your food
Control your power
Power to the system
Power to the people
People of the brave
People of the new
New world order
New world peace
Peace on this land
Peace in heaven
Heaven will fall
Heaven will rise
Rise with fire
Rise with faith
Faith in man
Faith in God
God is here
God is in you
You the People
You men of change
Change your fate
Change your heart
Heart full of possibilities
Heart full of gold
Gold teeth
Gold chains
Chains inked to death
Chains welded around necks
Necks silenced
Necks of the innocent
Innocent souls
Innocent time
Time is not measured
Time allows healing
Healing through pain
Healing towards freedom
Freedom
Pain
Born with hair of a lighter brown,
A gentle soul in his quiet town,
He walked alone where visions spoke,
Through heavy air and battle smoke.
No crown of gold or feathered crest,
No tales of war upon his chest,
Just one lone feather was in his hair,
And lightning painted bright and bare.
Not born to rule with a chief's command,
He won the hearts of his own homeland,
From Rosebud's heat to Bighorn’s sound,
He guarded all he walked around.
He shared his meat, he fed the poor,
And kept the winter from the door,
A shelter for the weak and small,
He gave his heart to save them all.
When worn by hunger, cold, and tear,
He brought his people home from fear,
Yet freedom could not be contained—
A soldier's blade, a sudden stain.
He fell not broken by the foe,
With quiet courage, letting go,
A wild, free spirit, brave and deep,
Who gave his people space to sleep.
Now laid to rest where whispers keep,
In secret ground he takes his sleep,
Near Porcupine Butte's lonely height,
Hidden safely within the prairie night.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.