Best Death Poems
INDIAN INK
Indian Accent, form the whispers inside
Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow
A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices fall from the sky, rising hymns release
ancient demons CLINGING to the SOUL!
Darkness dwells under - gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World!
Weaving Native smoke into the barren air
Indian spirits haunt the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath,
While guardians of dream catchers - print the Universe
Smooth thread from the outer world.
Arrowheads, Ivory gems, feathers, and illusions
I stumble upon a florid kiss....... My veins!
Run cold, like ice through a desert night.
Winds of enchanted drums - cry out for rain
Hollow chimes mesmerize, my ties, my eyes
An ancient rage begins to flare --- MADNESS!
takes place among the sanity of who I am
The spear of perfumed buffalo scrapes my skin
I remove the veil that covers my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Drying the scalp that bleeds on my face
KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!
Raven silk braids and feathers on my hair
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly,
I AM A BIRD!
**REFLECTION**
Running through a wheat dream
Clear skies, worms and flies, my face cries
Surrounded by silver streams
I stumbled into a valley where sleepness never dies
A manger on fire, burning embryo of lies
no time for final good-bye's
Waking up alone in the middle of a field
Rain falls from the sky, to bless my soul
Above the silver lining of mirrored clouds
I lay a bouquet of flowers on your grave
Angered by the thought of my birth
Where has my salvation gone?
Rescued by the hand, of the one I can not see
Tormented in life's final step
Silent mistreated never understand
Arid of hate dooming everyday
Something evil ruins the last hold of my hand
My mouth hit by the door, when I pray
A ricochet shot when my life was revealed
Fallen in and out, after unwanted betrayal tounges
Alone with my reflection is where I stand
Broken Mirrors,
the only thing I see!
7 years of current bad luck.
*
This is not a poem about a rose
Nor a poem about diligence and beauty
Today, I sit and stare at the walls
Walls that bare the complexity of life
Every breath, every tear I shed in my room
Set out to pollinate every seed, every bud-
Life once - was the perfection of everything
Now, water drips as I drown in my sentiments
Sentiments that no longer hold meaning
I feel so empty now that you are gone.
This is not a poem about a rose,
Rather it may be I write about death
Death is a man with no face
A man who sits every night
Patiently, he sits on the edge of everything
Waiting and waiting
For the thorn to prick the stem of who I am
Who I used to be in hopes I end the suffering
Every night he sits at the bedside
Watching and waiting
As I gaze deep into the dark watery walls
I lost the strength and resilience in my eyes
Creating a dormancy that shuts out the light
In a place where darkness prunes itself another day
There and only there,
I draw the silhouettes where life once bloomed
The echoes of my heart still call out your name
A name that no longer exists by my side
Slowly musk withers into the air
In remembrance, you were once here
Perfection Gone "And a rose is just a rose"
On a special Suicidal Night,
I sit alone inside this nightmare
In a nightmare with no windows
Nobody can see me
I can see nobody
Flowers, above
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
Forever closed!
It Rains! It Rains!
Beyond this ocean, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water below my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I fail and die every night
No one understands the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep
Lucid demons
Bleeding wrist
Scary dreams
My mind is still screaming
---
Incomplete
Torn
Broken-
Is how I live
I'm alone-
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.
Black Diamond Night (a coal miner’s cemetery)
Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”,
Old black rocks sit under the twilight
Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely,
Sinister through hostile spirits only,
I stumble across these stones without a bone
A solitary confinement alone,
From a barren zone the light transcend
Only in time, our minds will mend
Endless valleys and limitless stones
These bones- these bones they sit alone
The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill,
A system no power can unwell the drill
The blood that passed over without a spill
Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill
They are trapped! They are trapped!
Another diamond in the rough
Is what they left
Obsessed with the dead without a death
A death that impatiently awaited their last breath
Gushing, into the gems of dead chemistry,
Diamonds holding its own intensity,
These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill
Coal mining hearts that will never heal
If only shiny eyes could see?
These lonely bones inside of me!
Moving in every direction possible
Flowing in every direction noticeable
Sockets without eyes.
Stones hiding under the cobalt skies.
The mad sparkles, the madness dies.
Throughout this mess, we held in the blasphemous
Intervening lots of gems so miraculous
Into a stone of self-religion,
A black night filled of legions
Acknowledging the soul's capacity of free
Near the frail bones that sit alone,
Alone they sit in a morbid home.
Through a path unclear and all alone,
Troubled by the visions of my own stone
Where the night takes place in the dark
The ebony rides under the diamond bark
Along with the coal miners who never got to see the;
“Diamonds of another day!”
Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the ripened field and blackened mill, shop floor,
Your brother in a killing field to fight a rich man’s war.
In bloodied mud and shattered wood, fight legions of the brave,
Unwitting youth, you’ll do your duty until you’re in the grave.
A sergeant greets a fresh-faced boy, “welcome to the slaughter!”
Here you die from three diseases, bullet, gas or mortar.
In arms we fight together and in leaden hails we pass,
We die amongst the filth and stench that once was verdant grass.
“In the morning we will remember them” we hear the leaders call,
Those fickle words of history, will not remember us all.
Wouldn't you rather~
Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor,
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor.
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible
Love making with a zombie is impossible.
Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head
The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence
Is what keeps us all in distance
Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head
Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.
happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.
Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "She's Gone With the Wind."
The idea of love,
broken like yesterday's wishbone.
She is leaving today, her arms, my shelter
Her wings are now immense.
Beauty --- she's gone forever!
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have are lost memories,
tracing what is left.
One final deep breath
tequila vice to wash away the pain.....
At Last, Now I See!
Under the drunken stars
I had an epiphany
Stricken like a match
A sunken treasure
At Last, I Knew
You did not belong in there,
you were there for the taking
Frail and sick, no longer sane.
Memories lost, no longer - her
My Mother!
What has become of her?
You're a demon, who played us all
Made us cry, while she slowly withered away
The way you laid waste to her body
Nipping both legs, feeding her through tubes
She rapidly forgot our names' our faces'
I hate you, Alzheimer
I hate the way you took her the first time!
I hate you, Death
I hate the way you claimed her final days!
Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caress a precious moment around my tender skin
Pretending my mother tucked them in
Anything to help me get past my sleepless nights
"A Near-Death Experience of A Sweetheart"
Floating through a corridor between two different Worlds
among white fluffy clouds and shimmering stars awhile wind unfurls
racing into darkness: destination to death's door
living in a heavenly kingdom ... forevermore ...
Traveling through deep tunnel as cold fingers touch
walls of blackened essence creating thoughts to clutch
quickly toward a bright white light of peace
my soul and spirit being experienced soft release ...
Rushing to a Paradise, landing on streets of gold
seeing the Face of God so clearly to behold
longing to embrace my dear departed family
loved ones who had gone before to their final destiny ...
Their captivating smiles excited my soul
sharing love once more as was in their earthly roll
but a huge white Angel stood between my track
he spoke mentally "child of God you must go back.
And yet, I was not sad but happy to have seen
my precious treasured relatives cuddled by Supreme Being
why? I questioned must I return to Planet Earth?
Angel responed not your time to stay
your purpose unfulfilled for God to cherish every day ...
Suddenly transported through the tunnel smelling flowers
a jorney taking minutes but feeling like hours
and soon the sights and sounds ignited quiet hospital room
while my loved ones endured possibility of doom ...
My husband was squeezing my hand so tight I felt his love
as my children sobbed so loud praying to above
my eyes opened wide as I inhaled a breath
escaping to my body while I avoided Death ...
This near-death experience was an inspiration
for another realm exists in utter fascination
for now the message lives to enjoy both love and life
have no fear for death is harmless and erases strife ...
Hover close to God and always give Him thankxxx
through trials and tribulations He relieves all angst
Treasure every moment and anticipate the end
a beutiful place is waiting reuniting family and friends ...
Kisses and hugs replaced those solitary tears
knowing what lies ahead extinguishes all fears
please celebrate the gift of life in grateful attitude
Eternity is awesome with unending interlude ...
Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field
(A Tribute)
Tough as nails young man with a red right hand
red-fire and whiskey ran in his blood.
Courageous seed of vast and cold hard land
quick temper, power of a surging flood.
Seeker of life, its promised mysteries
rash gambler with all he would ever own.
Born on ship in high wind swept, roaring seas
toughest warrior his town had ever grown.
Met his fate by volley of red-hot lead
buried on ground scared and battle blasted.
Aye boys, fodder that machine guns were fed
fools marching to death, long as it lasted.
Now flowers cover up and Time denies
scenes of battle torn soil and blood-red skies.
R.J. Lindley
April 23rd, 1975
SONNET-(DEATH AND WAR'S FUTILITY)
Tribute to Courage of Youth-- Second Battle of Ypres, April 22nd 1915 .
Note- added - 8-26-2017
Wiki-
The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.
The phrase originates from a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were not maintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to thousands of poppies.
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Found this while rummaging through some of my old poems. Decided not to edit it. Leave it as it was composed over 42 years ago..
Added the note for those not familiar with that battle and its horrific carnage, primarily from the insanity of large bodies of troops marching into direct machine gun fire.
*******************
Note:
This poem was selected and requested for teaching purposes at Cambridge University. Permission was granted for educational use.... RJL
Note to contest sponsor: poet's name is mentioned at beginning
of the audio. Do not listen to audio portion if you wish not to
Know the author of this poem.
In forest's night, the trees bend low
beneath a slice of half moon’s glow;
silent shadows waver there,
chilled by gusts of autumn air.
Quavering, as if afraid,
they fall on stumps from trees decayed.
Among those stumps the shadows creep
and shroud a form that seems asleep
Lightning flashes . . . Thunder peals.
A sight forlorn the light reveals -
a man, quite dead, in woolen coat,
with scarf of death left on his throat.
The shadows saw, and now they quake,
lone witnesses in murder’s wake.
They cannot speak, but if they could,
they’d tell all travelers of the wood:
"We’re not the foe. It’s one of you
that makes us tremble as we do.
Although we loom and cause you fear,
something worse is lurking here."
Then Thunder echoes in accord
as from the sky, cold rain is poured.
And silent shadows start to shrink
into a night of blackened ink.
Life is but a fleeting whisper echoing through time,
never dying, always being- magnificent and sublime.
The body's a receptacle, a superficial shell,
but in it dwells the gift of Soul; eternity knows it well.
The Soul contains the truths of life,
to all that's ever been;
to all things now, and yet to come,
but guards them deep within.
The mind has hidden doors to Soul; we long to find the key,
unleash the vision waiting there, that lives eternally.
And so mind seeks to open wide, grasp firm the light of Soul.
and at that moment when it does, we know we will be whole.
So when we penetrate the shield
that stands between these two,
we will perceive with inner sight-
our Soul, complete and new.
If in this life, we cannot grasp this bond of Soul and mind,
we'll be reborn to live again, till total self we find.
We've been before, so many times; we've known many a past.
We'll be again- an echo in time, till mind and Soul are fast.
And when that final day does come,
at last to lift our Soul,
for Him to gather in His arms-
our perfect self- now whole.
May 19, 2016
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Imagine A Freedom Beyond Imagination
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Judged: 02/25/2021
Some religions, like Hinduism, believe in reincarnation which refines the soul by it living many lifetimes, and after it is perfected, goes back to God. My poem is based on that belief. So many people, including myself, have inner feelings or momentary flashbacks like they have lived before in another life.
*The Dead Poet*
Many blocks along the road,
Kicking down walls of heavy stones,
Yet no one could draw through the walls of her lonely bones.
A poet who could not write what's inside.
Her pen had gone ink dry.
Her beady eyes lost the feel of an angelic realm.
She tried!
She tried until she could no longer cry!
A poet who stuttered with the mind and out came no words.
This poet hangs on a mound with a picture that tells a sad tale.
A poem that broke verses in a Carpe diem dream.
She ruffled her arms once more as if she could fly.
Still nothing,
Everything felt dead inside.
Trap in a mental state that clots the willing vein.
Isolating her form in a room with no door.
She stays this away from the feel of the marvel pen.
To never go back, and feel again.
In the most ominous way,
She lets out a cry,
A cry, never heard before.
Running from this evil, that stain her world.
Words buried deep and behind a new exterior box,
Her insides grasp all the air of air once alive.
A talon drop into the next,
This troublesome poet gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but the empty space within.
Next!
She curls herself into a fetal world.
At last, she closes her eyes, to feel no more.
A poet who died the day, joy wiped the glee from her face.
by;PD
“Peace I leave with you
my peace I give you
I do not give to you as the world gives
Do not let your hearts be troubled
do not be afraid” (John 14:27)
But I am scared
Blood runs down streets
Hatred, rage, violence dance
In a chaotic frenzy performance
of evil malice . . .
What do your words mean?
Are they void – empty promises?
Where is the peace in deafening explosions?
In the cacophony of rapid gun fire?
Screams of horror?
Tears of death???
“I am the resurrection and the life
The one who believes in me will live
even though they die
and whoever lives by believing in me will never die
Do you believe this?” John 25:26
Yes, I want too . . .
But fear creeps around my heart
Its cancerous fibers sinking deep – choking me
Doubts greet me in the morning
Panic sleeps in my bed
I am weak
Hear my cries of desperation
“Be strong and courageous
Do not be afraid
do not be discouraged
for the Lord your God will be with you
wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9)
Stay close – fill me
I cannot see –
Darkness surrounds me
Death, destruction, desecration, depression
Blood, bitterness, bile, blight
“I have come into the world as a light
so that no one who believes in me
should stay in darkness
If anyone hears my words but does not keep them
I do not judge that person
For I did not come to judge the world
but to save the world” (John 12:46-47)
I cannot begin to fathom this
How great is this love
Forgiveness over revenge
Peace over violence
Life over death
Love over hate
Help me I pray
“A new command I give you
Love one another
As I have loved you
so you must love one another” (John 13:34)
Love one another . . .
David Meade
11/18/2015
Love Generously
I still remember
how you were
there in the dark,
holding my
bleeding heart.
Whilst I wandered,
sleepless under
soundless spheres.
Now I search
for your starlit
symphony
that echoes,
as idyllic octaves,
from the last song
you sang for
our lost youth;
demons we fought,
when colorless dusks
abandoned me,
between tuneless
sheets of emptiness,
where citrine gold
streaked wavelets of
strawberry scented
sunrise and
amethyst sunset
composed
hibiscus hymns.
But when ink
within my soul
hides behind
pomegranate lies,
that I truly despise,
amidst crimson-clawed
chaos of cluttered
calligraphy,
crawling in silence
along cursive linings
carved in
psychedelic perianths ~
can you hear
my pleas vibrating
through unwritten lyrics,
scrawled in
seaweed green?
Some melodies need
no words nor voice,
to narrate noiseless
refrains of
endless loss,
orchestrated
from seraphic
strings—
whistling
peacock promises,
that linger
within my
violet blue veins,
coated with
helium love.
And even in
death,
you and I
will forever,
remain as
immortal kins—
like the
evening moon
and the
midnight sun,
chasing
dewberry daydreams,
fructified from sage
mint roots,
waltzing to
your perfumed
presence in
the elysian castle.
I will never stop
singing our soft
cotton serenades,
even if the blackest
of stones from the
greyest hail quartz,
dimmed the
sangria seas
that ripples deep
into the shimmering
gates of your
home above
the seven skies.