Best Deader Poems
"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You"
Dr. Suess
I’m Youer Than You
I studied real hard the youness of you
I paid close attention to the things that you do
No detail too small, I even learned how you chew
I eat what you eat! I love camel stew
I walk your walk, I have your unique style
I've walked in your shoes, for many a mile
Look at my face, the twinkle in my eye
I have your mischevious look and I own your smile
But now dear friend, you are deader than dead
I'm with your lovely bride and sleeping in your bed
She thinks I'm you, because I say what you said
You at the bottom of a lake, weighted down by lead
As time goes by, I'll become me-er than me
Because in the end, that's who I want to be
I hope she'll still love me, in time I will see
Being Youer than You, is what set me free
There are great benefits to my insanity!
Channeling my Dark Suess!
Categories:
deader, change, dark,
Form:
Light Verse
We set sail as Reggae music played out on the Lido.
Our first night was casual; no need for tuxedo.
We could eat a pizza by the Windows On the Sea
or go beneath and dine on shrimp and meet the maitre d’
We could gamble, see a show, or just gaze at the ocean,
then in bed, relax the head and sense the soothing motion.
We woke up in Freeport where the ship would dock all day.
Folks could disembark, take tours, or on the ship just stay.
On board were people lounging or dancing to Calypso,
working out or shopping or even playing Bingo.
All day long you could find folks doing funny things
like contests for the men with hairy chests or knobby knees.
Day Two when we awoke, we were then in Nassau.
There was stuff for everyone, from your kiddies to your grandma!
Little ones could stay behind. The staff would entertain them,
or the kids could tag along with mom and dad. No problem!
Those who liked adventure could visit Blue Lagoon.
For snorkeling with sting rays, the boat left right at noon.
I got to pet a dolphin, but extra had to pay
to swim with one! That was sure an extra special day.
In town I got nabbed quickly by a plaza beautician.
Getting braids was all the rage, so people got their hair done.
We went to the gangway before the ship set sail.
Those not having fun by then were deader than a door nail.
“Day at Sea” arrived as the trip was winding down,
and the biggest night was coming; women wore a gown.
That final evening getting all dolled up to dine was when
I wished instead of ending, the trip would start again!
Gals and guys with braided hair; everyone looked nice.
Ah, the midnight feast with pretty sculptures carved in ice.
The ultimate for having fun unless you were just snoozing,
in the laid-back natives’ lingo, I say “Mon,” I sure loved that cruising.
(may not be following precise time line, but this was before year 2000 that I took my one and only cruise, so I'm a bit fuzzy on precise day by day details. it was a Carnival cruise only 3 to 4 days in Bahamas and back to Florida)
Feb. 1, 2022
for "My Favorite Vacation In Rhyme" Poetry Contest of L. Milton Hankins
Categories:
deader, vacation,
Form:
Rhyme
O How Great It Is...
To be alive on this day!
Heh, Most unlike you!
You're Deader then dead
Just like the wooly mammoth,
Who's also your dad
I'm alive in space!
Without a care or worry...
I'm forever free.
Remember highschool?
Well, I haven't forgotten.
But you have, my dear
You rejected me!
But not privately, mind you!
No, that'd be too nice...
Had to be cruel...
You told them all when I asked.
And I was left, mocked
But space is so kind.
Unlike your now burning Earth.
Fighting my cyborgs?
Sorry for the mess.
Death Stars aren't too accurate...
They get the job done.
Well, England is gone.
Your most favorite city.
I burned it myself.
I'm truly happy
Yep, I'm just floating in space.
Yes, Yes... I'm damn sure.
I do NOT miss you.
Or the goddamned earth, either.
Just stop guilting me!
No... I'm not happy.
I'm just alone in deep space.
I'm Watching you burn.
Please forgive me, miss.
I was so jealous, old friend
I was just so hurt.
I feel terrible.
Like I'm Ozymandias
Only, I despair.
Categories:
deader, anger, death, death of
Form:
Haiku
Seperate generations of loyal fans
music charisma outstanding bands
king of rock....king of pop
Elvis and Michael were #1 chart tops...
Both had a flare for entertaining
all the girls screamed their daydreaming
gyrostyle hips with moonwalking bluesuede shoes
both still selling music and still in the news,
...deader than dead,worth more dead than alive
don't stop 'till you get enuff,Elvis lives! don't believe the hype...
Here's the coincidence without all the poking fun,
king of pop...king of rock n' roll
both gonna make more money dead than alive
both ended their careers and lives with prescription drugs
....Michael married Elvis' daughter too boot...
i wonder if there will ever be a pair like them again?
Categories:
deader, music
Form:
Free verse
"I get sicker, I get sicker" skin just as soft as silky hair wet flannel towel with lipstick smudges luminous sound waves of colour could stay here in this warm water forever i never feel bad its when i get out the pain arises subsiding? Not really, having a bath in a empty night club with lights flashes splashes fake eyelashes on the floor distort eyesight of ecstasy. "I get sicker, I get sicker" sick dripped hanging towel over the mixing deck collapse over the stage. blood lust, splashes of water drip drip drop on the floor smiling laughing bubbles strobes visual display of ambience. This is what happens when you can't sleep go funny sleep deprived hallucinations stumbling shaking cold warm covered floor of splattered mud blood slugs sick pick eyelashes wishing more do not leak fall out, "I get sicker, I get sicker" i get deader as night elapses corridor floor crawling brawling with dancing mannequins masquerade of sanity song name sickness disease mold scold fold towels die with the night. Thoughts screaming at me laughing crying dying dancing dejavu decay disfigured limbs on the dance floor. Why does nobody come here? Sink submerge into the now muddy bath water of the "heavens night" lights. Pick me like a daisy lotus out of the soil toil ticking clock shocks of ink covered frocks locks on the doors are screaming like thoughts growing faces places daylight saving me sleep please please sleep in the sink? No, wont fit slit someones face off cough blood over there face pills pills addiction transfixtion transvestic fetishism obsession depression dilute delay please come stay at the empty night club Im so lonely slowly dying inside these walls of leaking paint.
"I get sicker" skindred reference to song sicker
Categories:
deader, anxiety, color, dark, lonely,
Form:
Inglenook
She, the face in the embers,
The remnants of a raging fire,
Smoulders like a cigarette
Between lips of lustful desire.
Where men stoke in gay abandon,
Pokers hot as blacksmiths arms,
To fade and die in the ashes,
The inglenook of her charms.
Breathe, breathe, smoke inhale,
Fill your lungs, my laddy, my son,
And when you spit the bloody spit
What manhood will be done?
Ten a penny, 'tis Rose and Jenny
For whom you shall but die,
But it is dreams of her raging fire
That will burn the smokey sky.
She, the naked, fireside chat
Will weep upon the ashen grate,
And you dowsed her, her inglenook,
How it sealed a young mans fate.
Where flames rose and flames fell
Like the dance of a harlots fare,
And you, the gasp of life and death
Did often purvey her there.
Breathe, breathe, my laddy, breathe,
How dare you die so young,
The inglenook knows many tunes
But you have hardly sung.
Ten a penny, yet be you broke
And deader than her yearn,
She, the face in the embers,
When once, my son, you burned.
© RJVHorton2016
Categories:
deader, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Bats do fly on this spooky autumn night
Land on an old tree that’s deader than dead
There’s a noose that hangs from the greatest height
Hangs over the grave of man with no head
Sky has an orange tint to it tonight
Pumpkins enjoy the color and absorbs
Feeling the fear that’s in the air with fright
Seeing now a witch with her crystal orbs
Placing one on the headless ghost’s tombstone
She invokes the spirit to come forth here
Quickly he shows up, but he’s not alone
Spirits from all around arrive that scare
The witch knows her defeat and rides her broom
She’ll get the headless spirit sometime soon
Russell Sivey
Categories:
deader, fear, halloween,
Form:
Sonnet
Descend to join me now in Luna’s sept
Before the summer storm’s pale vision
Disturbs the bed of glory where you slept
And sighed at passing time’s derision!
Arise and sow your wonder over hills
Where free birds can outlast the wingless,
And grass unweaves so gently over rills
Whose timeless flow is quick and listless!
Unending hours advance while tearing off
Astrologers’ ill fancies, deader
Than fragments wrought and torn away by scoff,
Whose broken vows are Hope’s beheader.
All envy shrinks, for you are like the spell
Which thaws cold marble into living
Decay. Descend, illume our moon-beamed dell,
For memories can foil misgiving!
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Categories:
deader, allegory, allusion, death, love,
Form:
Rhyme
We've worn out yet another Anno Domini.
We're twelve months - if not wiser - surely older.
You call it a relationship, this boulder
which hangs about me like a Shi'ite's bomb, and he,
at least, can choose his cut-off point. From shoulder
to knee, I'm (still) more Goldie Hawn than Golda
Meir, but we don't flow. We ooze. Like hominy
grits, turgidly. But denser. Stodgier. Colder.
Where once fizzed electricity, hums static.
The best and worst of me is best termed "womanly" -
irrational, irascible, erratic.
I'm sure my verse is worse. Tot up each billable
pretentious periphrastic polysyllable.
But you? You're spenter, deader than Mitt Romney.
Categories:
deader, relationship,
Form:
Sonnet
The battle raged on, the artist uninjured, but soaked in blood,
The dead and dying, cursed by good aim they still feel.
The valley split by the cool of water…and a crimson mud
The noise of the pain outweighing the wielding of steel.
There were no more threads to sew, the material wastefully torn.
No more linen to lay on mortal wound and gall,
The saws blunt, the scalpels deader than the fallen,
The horror of man ‘gainst man, pride before their individual fall.
The other helpers in the task, saw not Dioscorides pale,
Step back from the still cooling form before him, and slowly stroll
Towards the hillside peak, clothed in green veil,
A journey to another place, forgetting life lost, and clotting on his sole.
The smell of desecration, and the noise of conflict, abated
As he crested the hill and waded across the stage.
The sun slowly setting, the grass beginning to wave, fated.
The trees whispering, his thoughts clearing from the rage.
His vista escape from the scene unreal, and sad,
An accident of a creator wanting to flee.
A journey of discovery, a dream to be had,
Revealed a singular white kermes coated tree.
He would leave here in a short time, never to re-appear,
Where peace replaced the hate on the other side of the glen.
He would remember, and with a vision clear, on canvas reinact the fear
Of the boys drowning in the cochineal river, never to grow to be men.
( Based on the life of Pedanius Dioscorides...a soldier, physician and artist...this poem is based on his walking away from a battle where he was the surgeon, and discovering the kermes beetle on a cactus, and which he took some home to Greece...The beetle is the same one where we obtain cochineal for red food colouring.. )
Categories:
deader, art, color, history, war,
Form:
Rhyme
The breeze blows icy arrows, piercing flesh
The pale sun's rays enfeeble yearning hearts
Commuters scurry, hats in scarves enmeshed
Monday morning, December's forlorn start...
Returning home, the winds do scream and howl
At downtown throngs that empty out at five
But first a drink to wipe away the scowl
That makes a face look deader than alive...
Back home again with family so warm
All sitting by the fire, in cuddling arms
Protected from the reach of winter's storm
Soon dreaming dreams, not fearing any harm
Though outside Winter waits with open arms
To hug brave fools who tempt December's charms
Categories:
deader, city, death, family, wind,
Form:
Sonnet
Colder than a winter gale
As empty as a canvas
Pale and lifeless like a cadaver.
Deader than winter leaves.
Like writing on an epitaph
it speaks of what they once was
And what's died inside.
And what's left.
Eyes like Carols from repulsion
Fragile like glass
Hollower than a doll
Nothing seems to be anymore
Awake feeling like your still dreaming
Nothing seems real anymore
Categories:
deader, depression, loneliness, lost,
Form:
Death is tapping at the door
My blood is pooling on the floor
Pooling, puddling, soaking, staining
Blood is on the floor
Death is knocking, knocking, knocking
Let me in he says, mocking
My blood is dripping on the floor
And Death is knocking on the door
The ravens gather at the window
Death is waiting, they slyly crow
As my blood is seeping away
Seeping sticky, damp, icky
My blood is seeping away
Death is opening the door
I hear his footsteps on the floor
Someone says something, it echoes away
But all I hear is Death calling
Calling quickly, I am falling
Light and life fade to gray
©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
Categories:
deader, death, grief, life,
Form:
Dear God, May all cardinals be red
May the pope be Catholic
Bless bishops and their pointy heads
May their coffee come in cups
Filled to the brim with liquid
Caffeine free until Thy kingdom comes
Until the end of time or sooner
May Thy will be done, Amen
Dear God, keep us free from sin
From Kardasians,
(perhaps a skin disease?)
Please protect us from the sleazy
From carbonated drinks with bubbles
And all other troubles as seen on TV
If it be your will dear Lord
May I have a Vorpal sword
The one that goes snicker-snack
To slay the evil dragon Jabberwocky
Dead or even deader than that
For ever and ever more, Amen
Categories:
deader, conflict, god, mystery, prayer,
Form:
Free verse
Trump Making Impressions
Trump the Terrible likes making impressions;
Should see one he does of jolly Jeff Sessions;
And when Trump is up tight and all tense,
Has made marvelous one of his buddy Pence.
Trump is great at trying to gobble up food;.
Impression of turkey trotting in the nude,
With feathers reared up in their rear end;
Trump did one of a fine feathered friend.
Outside where Trump had become very hot;
Made impression of people doing Turkey trot;
Did decide to make one of Robinson Crusoe,
While Rob had been wearing a Trump truesoe'.
As usual, Trump's memory started to lapse,
Which in the end would completely collapse,
And then after he led us down a long trail,
We did one of him deader than a door nail.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Categories:
deader, allegory, analogy, humorous,
Form:
Couplet