Best Death Of A Poems
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.
I woke up that day with tears in my eyes,
after I heard about your father's demise.
Guess you've never understood,
the point of being his blood.
I remember when your mother left,
how he was totally bereft.
Ran off with the man next door,
not once did he call her a whore.
Not once did your mother call,
too busy having a ball.
Forgot about her only child,
to live a life fun and wild.
He knew he had to be strong,
so the world would do you no wrong.
Every night he held you tight,
his eyes your guiding light.
Every time you would cry,
he would kiss those tears dry.
Worked three jobs so you had the best,
not once did he fail in your request.
He suppressed all his sorrows deep inside,
he was broken but never did he subside.
Single he remained for the rest of his life,
dedicated to you, so you would not face strife.
Yet you too, decided to walk away,
tell me what led you astray?
You called him a religious bore,
when you ran out of that door.
He had your best interests at heart,
but you belittled him for not being smart.
Then you wonder why he finally broke,
all that stress gave him a deadly stroke.
Now you stand there with your unfaithful mother,
with someone who is young enough to be your brother.
Crocodile tears stream from your artificial face,
as his coffin is lowered into his final resting place.
How ironic it has started to pour with rain,
maybe it's God washing away all of his pain.
Don't come running to me for sympathy,
I have no time for those with no dignity.
All his sacrifices now you seem to realise,
but he can't hear you, it's too late to apologise.
Because of you he lived a life heartbroken,
forever you will regret those words unspoken.
P.S
If you think his inheritance will help your austerity,
he wasn't that stupid, he left it all to charity!
The Silent One
16 February 2018
Based on a true story
I remember you, from when there was a spring
When the seasons were ripe, with verdant green
Our nimble feet danced in the wind
and on the brink of everything
Not a furrow in the brow of youth
We borrowed life for just awhile
and tapped our shoes on childhood's stage
where carefree laughter was the rage
that filled each age with promised smiles
We danced and twirled a twin ballet
just you and me on summer's waves
Two pirouettes, in mode of curls
of blossoms, frilled, and tender leaves
unfurled in winds, we found a way
to soar our wings, above the world
We knew not yet
of death or dying
or of regret, or cause for crying
But, something frowned upon the season
You caught the wind, and without reason
A colder wind
that kept you flying
far beyond my eyes could see
And to the other side
you disappeared
beyond my words
beyond my tears
Now here alone
I touch the day
and taste the night
remembering
I will walk alone, in autumn sun
And lay myself on dying leaves
I think of you and think of then
I feel the wind against my face
that sweeps me to a distant place
where I recall what time erased
I'm closer now... to hear the sound
The whisper of the seasons calling
Above the trees, the sky is blue
I think of you, and feel the breeze
And all the while, the leaves must fall
9/2013
...................................................................................................
We never met, although we planned
to make our dream come true;
the will was strong, the body weak…
and then you bid adieu
when angels came and took your hand
(I called your name in vain).
You left this vale for pastures new
where peace replaced your pain.
Carolyn passed away, but her unconditional friendship and kindness,
together with her gift of words will never be forgotten. She was one
of the first to welcome me to Soup, and we bonded from the start.
We co-wrote several poems, some of which were published in
various anthologies. She will forever hold a special place in my heart.
Awarded POTD 5th August 2021
A lovely rose grew to the garden's delight,
a poem of sunrise surrounded by night.
One day her friend Ivy asked "Why do you mourn?"
Rose answered, "I've lost my beloved dear thorn.
"We've been closer than close since I was a young bud,
now I fear he has fallen down into the mud.
He protected this vine, but I trust our Creator
we shall meet again, be it sooner or later."
Another thorn fell then, and nearly another.
Poor Rose mourned and prayed as would any sad mother.
"I must carry on", she said, "find ways to cope,
composing new poems to give others hope".
With courage and kindness she faced each new day,
always loving and knowing the right words to say.
She lost a few petals when summer storms blew,
but her friends in the garden all felt she pulled through.
One day Ivy looked and with sadness profound
saw the flowerless vine and her friend on the ground.
But the vine's saddest loss was the soil's richest gain,
for Rose and her thorns were united again.
For Connie Marcum-Wong. We miss you dear rose, but
rejoice that you are finally reunited with your loved ones.
A path strewn thick with ruddy-faced leaves
led to nowhere and everywhere in fantasies,
our near-death rescue from boredom
come afternoon chores and homework pages
wrinkled in time.
I try to recall all I tried to forget.
Back home, under the willow trees, I weep
for childhood, friendship,
for innocence surrendered,
all I thought I could keep, fuzzy lines
between love and loss,
practical days that come with age.
I close my eyes to see through tears -
you, a dance in rain showers, oval-spheres
of costume jewelry, tea parties and dragons slain
rays of sunlight climbed,
imagination uncaged,
carefree hours,
diamonds in darkness,
restless dreams fell like leaves
on youth's horizon of trees and flowers.
Two kids set free in skies shaded gray -
we said forever, a pinky swear I remember,
naïve in make-believe worlds. How many years
passed by, miles kept between you and I?
A phone call once-in-a-while reminded
of our bitter, listless eyes,
our disappointment in distant words.
I hope you always knew the truth,
I loved you, dear friend.
It was myself, I hated.
Time cradled our laughter,
held it on the breeze,
childhood secrets
shared with ease on our path,
thick with summer's dead leaves.
We, too young to notice,
fell into brittle leaves
trodden bare
before first snow.
Our laughter now echoes in dreams,
chaffing our willow trees
still sulking low,
moss brushes away tears in timeless beauty,
and waits for you to come home.
An old poem, revised 3/15/17
249 words total
The ship in the habor on silvery seas
Lay vacant outspread 'neath the glassy moon
Drifting in cold whispers of the night
Like a drunk man shriveled on clasping knees
In the loud echoes of the crawling winds
The brave ship nods its old head
Restless on the empty stage of the bay
When lonely stars bleed their light
On what was once earthly sublimity
Now silence and haunt lingers there
A graveyard of bones and sadness
Beside the desolate harbor
Rustling in the cold distance
Laboring with a haunting melody
That invades me in shivers of night.
Sadness defeats
The happy spaces of my mind
Then your sweet kiss would descend
Oh... your sweet kiss would descend
As a fragrant memory
Thawing the pain
In the frost of my heart.
My soul beckons your presence
But silence became my loyal friend
And Emptiness -
The sorrowing of my hours
That slithers through the night
As the brave ship nods its old head
Crackling and desolate
In silvered breaking waters
'Neath moon's limpid eyes
My hands descend
With crimson buds of April's flowers
To rest upon your tomb
Of eternal silence.
''Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.''
I read my obituary
Accolades run afoul to lighten the souls of the living
Trite clichés, forgotten kin, melodic tributes
Boring and meaningless
Upon a granite stone etched for an eternity
I was but a ‘A faithful husband,’
‘A good father,’
And ‘Never Forgotten’
They have it all wrong
If they had read my sonnets
Mystical offspring scribbled on napkins
Consuming stale coffee in late night diners lit by neon lights
They would have known
Had they paid heed to my limericks
Nonsensical rhymes of fairytale fantasies
And polka-dotted panties created to amuse only me
They would have known
Had they inhaled my free verse
Painstaking hours spent
Creating worlds of exquisite harmony
Carrying the reader on endless voyages
Guided by the inspired lyricist through emerald forests
Royal seas, white-capped mountains
And never-ending dreams
They would have known
Had they met my only mistress
One called Haiku
A quiet damsel
Her beauty lies in brevity and endless seasons
They would have known
More than a husband
More than a father
More than forgotten
I am a poet
I read my obituary
I should have known
death is near-
a fading out tomorrow will never be-
gone away an empty shell will dwell
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
wings soft as a spider web
and the curtains stir in the open window
death
comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
her
hair
streaming down her shoulders
the clock of time stops the end has come
deep blue is the sky beyond this realm
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
blue birds are twittering in the trees
she breathes
a long breath
pauses
and then
the moment of death a heaviness descends
death comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
she hangs
her head like a dead flower the mind dies
a peacefulness a light that fills the room her spirit leaving
and on the bedside
a beautiful bouquet of red roses dulcet full of scent
oh her life was fleeting
infused with happiness beauty laughter
the dream has ended the final curtain has dropped
farewell my beauty I kiss her lips her still warm hand
outside a gentle rain has begun
falling on the weeping willow tree
my weeping tears
dropping soaking her blanket
___________________________
June 26, 2015
Free Verse/"death of a friend"
Copyright Protected, ID 684720
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem You Are Proud Of
Sponsor, Mystic Rose
Second Place
I am proud of this poem because I wrote right after the death of my friend,
she died of cancer and I was with her at the end witnessing it through the eyes
of a poet. It is my most viewed poem and I was able to capture the style
of E.E. Cummings perfectly in my opinion.
__________________________
Submitted to the contest, A poem You Are Proud Of #3
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
_____________________________
Submitted to the contest, Death and Dying
sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Second Place
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfilment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece
He left his sneakers by the shore
A backpack too, was laid aside
to pick up when the sun had died
He claimed his other gear, instead
The thrill of rapids filled his head
and sounds of water drew him in
His sneakers, backpack cast aside
would wait 'til dusk, upon the grass
when he returned to don again
They did not hear the roaring tides
They did not hear the shouts of fright
Nor did they hear, at last, the call
That came from voices through the night
Calls from those who searched the dark
While water surged and moonlight fell
And rushed instead, to grip a life
His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
assumed that he would come again
His sneakers wait, .........he kicked them off
In haste his backpack, too, was tossed
The river flows...... and all was lost
The cost was more than words explain
There's someone home who got the call
The words so wild, the last, that came
His sneakers, backpack, cast aside
assumed that he'd return again
It lies not in their province now,
to know the cost of human pain
___________________________________________________________
Death comes to all like a great shadow,
servant of reality when the truth of it sinks
in leaving the experience embedded on
one’s soul. Milt, given to remembrance
in his lifetime, moments flashing by, when
the congregation gathered to celebrate his
time on earth. But in the book of scrolls
winter is definite in which age must give way
to the new, one, he’d readily give for
the sprinkling of innocence created to start
life’s process all over again, with perpetual
regularity. He would, from behind the thin
veil of Ionna, bless and comfort the unfortunate,
the depressed, the lame of an earthly lifetime in
songs of praise. Leave a recipe for a foregone
conclusion. Auf wiedersehen, we will meet again!
February 6th 2023/ 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers Final
Placement Poetry Contest.
Sponsor Mark Toney.
Mark Toney.
I still feel the pain
I remember the past- as I'm looking back
and I still can't believe it's true...
it's hard for even me, to believe,
the things that have happened to me
I'm alive today, I try to forget it all
but, some days are just too much...
at times...horrific memories come 'round
and they just keep haunting me
Chorus
A child shouldn't see blood...or feel such pain,
A child should never, ever...feel such suffering
There were days, I thought that my life, was at it's end
Even today-I still feel the pain...
even though, I know...I'm not to blame
I raise my eyes to the skies, and pray for better days
'cause they're so few, and far between
God knows, that it snows, inside my soul
for all the sadness, that I've seen
Well, I still live in fear-feel the danger's still near
although I don't see anyone there
I look to the time, when I'll find, peace of mind
with no more reasons, to feel scared
Chorus
A child shouldn't see blood...or feel such pain,
A child should never, ever...feel such suffering
There were days, I thought that my life, was at it's end
Even today-I still feel the pain...
even though, I know...I'm not to blame
Even today...
I still feel the pain...
even though...
I know...
I'm not to blame...
even though...
I know...
I'm not to blame.
John Derek Hamilton
October 31,2019
Jagged edges of this morning,
clad in black skies dark adorning,
issues now it’s subtle warning
leaving living souls depressed.
Jagged are emotions teeming;
deep within, our hearts are screaming;
‘pon our cheeks our tears are streaming
with our sadness now expressed.
Jagged are the headstones wearing
names of souls departed bearing
sadness in those here still caring,
left behind with death’s bequest.
Jagged are my deepest feelings;
deeper still my thoughts revealing;
death now leaves emotions reeling
as we lay your soul to rest.
October 22, 2023
Elinore Catherine Gondolf
March 31, 1924 - September 23, 2023
Rest in peace, Mom.
Her ink has dried, her stories spun
On distant shores, her songs are sung
Atlantis must be beautiful in fall Carolyn,
Love always, jim
September, 2021