Best Deathlike Poems
Trembling in the silence of a fresh snowfall, awaiting the struggle of laughter and tears, the beautiful that comes from stars shadowed by flakes so gentle they seem to speak silence into the spirit – like the voice of a vision, preaching peace ~ quote by poet
Secreted beneath the gentle fragments, shivering,
Blown in piles, demanding as January’s piercing light,
Silence caressing the stones, the oaks, the pines,
In glistening reflections, hearts possessed,
By the indigo skies who are burning with grace,
Speckled with sensations, amazement –
Sweltering in the 12 degree rays, where moments
Tend to breath in the crispness and release brilliance,
In waves, wisdom from the hunger
Ravenous appetites, awaiting the colors of light,
Friendly aromas of souls, newly blooming,
Emitting sounds that go on, unnoticed, echoes,
Vibrations trembling in soothing sighs…
Melodious blessings, ranging from hearts to insights,
Lifting the nights on wings of angels,
Promising the heavens to release the broken hearts,
Send comfort to the earth in the form of snow,
Who breathes a quiet truth, silence…
Beaming from the tender scales, shavings of ice,
Glittery and crisp, crumbling into moments,
When the laughing sun kisses the blanketed ridges,
Stirring the scene so that only the blurry vision,
Squinted from eyes who remember –
On the snow covered land there is plenty to glimpse,
But only the blinded eyes can truly remember,
How the sparkling snow seemed to shudder and shake,
In silence… deciding just how significant
How consuming is the silence of a shadow,
Reflected on the land whose bathed in fresh white,
The frosty sheen of hope breathing its lasting glance,
Over the peaceful promise of this kind and graceful spectacle,
Commotion in brilliance, awakening the spirit,
With a wonderful white home where the fires crack,
Popping so that even the wood can feel the flames traveling,
Deep into the bones, risking tragedy…
To be lauded by the sensations of Winter’s amazing,
Winter chasing the dreams, the belief, the faded hope…
For those silhouettes who follow the moon,
Ride the stars and twinkle like the deathlike grief,
Who arranges for even the darkness to be plucked from the earth,
By the fresh fallen flurries who break away the brittle,
Soothing souls so that they’re sanctified by the sentimental.
Categories:
deathlike, appreciation, beautiful, january, peace,
Form:
Verse
At first glance ...
Amid turbulent strokes
and vivid hues,
eyes mesmerized by
maiden's molten-red mane—
Love and Pain
Gently kissing
her lover's nape
in tender embrace,
while Pain's
lurking specter
overshadows their
intimate space,
threatening Love's
fragile grace
Second glance ...
Gent's deathlike pallor
portrays a chilling
alternative motif.
Is love really her goal, or
is she nosferatu feasting
on a submissive soul?
Dark eyes reflect the
lurking specter's desire—
Vampire
Categories:
deathlike, art, love, pain, perspective,
Form:
Ekphrasis
The winds breathe in evenings soul of darkness,
And night comes trailing a gown, black and velvety;
Inky i n k y black, deeply mysterious and moonless,
An endless canopy;
A deathlike silence,
A nightingale song calls;
Somewhere a night owl hoots,
hoot hoot h o o t HOOT . . .
Lucid silence,
A quiescence.
N I G H T- a time for prayer and for weeping,
The spirit of darkness comes creep c r e e p i n g;
In the quietness and stillness my sleepy eyes close,
And I pull the curtain of . . . . repose
____________________________
June 13, 2016
Poetry/Verse/The Curtain Of Repose
Copyright Protected, ID 16-800-095-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Night Silence
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron
Third Place
Categories:
deathlike, night, silence,
Form:
Verse
These sparkling tears do tell a woeful tale
Of sorrows hidden deep within my heart
They bring to light the heartaches I bewail
And speak of broken dreams I bury deep
Hear now this tale and vow to never part
Awaken love from this, a deathlike sleep
In answer to my tears, let love prevail
Reach out and comfort me with words so sweet
Protect me from my demons that assail
For none but you can bring back life to me
And gift me joy with which each day to greet
If bound to you, my soul shall be set free
These sparkling tears do tell a woeful tale
In answer to my tears, let love prevail
For Craig Cornish
The Cornish Sonnet
March 10, 2014
Categories:
deathlike, cry,
Form:
Sonnet
Violent as the gleaming blade
Of a vicious criminal crazed
Ferocious as the lion’s jaw
Lingering on an innocent calf
This wicked affliction forces
Its teeth into the harmless heart
Bites wildly into vulnerable flesh
With haste to destroy and devastate
End the life that it penetrates
With a hatred that is inhuman – merciless
Ruthless as the worst of the worst
Abolishing hope as it grows and grows
Breaking hearts and wills with its
Lack of empathy and sympathy
Luring dreams into the night, darkening
The promise of a happier day,
Filling minds with dread and depression
Anxiety that lingers even after
The moment has passed and time
Struggles to alleviate the pain
The widespread anguish of knowing
That this big malady holds all of tomorrow
Painting the thoughts in hues of doubt
Disillusionment and discouragement
Feelings clouded with silvery fog
Lingering on the emotions in shimmering
Waves of deathly black sorrow
Breathing fear through the spirit
And whispering in tones of weariness
Regret and mourning come to the heart
Even though some might tell you
There is hope.. a flicker of courage
The possibility of healing, recovering
From this demented beast with its claws
Of deathlike horror playing across
The light that reminds you life will be brighter
Sometime,… after the treatments
The drugs and cures that are meant to repair
First seem to destroy every awareness
That there will be a breath of fresh air
A new dawn – a second thought, the color
Of joy and promise and miracles prayed for
It is only a moment that comes and goes
A flicker of optimism amid the skeptical thoughts
When you realize only God knows the outcome
Of this feared disease, cancer… the ending
The sequel will reveal what only He sees
And I know, it is only God who can spread
Healing where the cancer cells have spread
Death and destruction… doubt that dissuades
Even the inkling of faith that will tell you
God’s love is still alive and well, sending you
Inspiration, hope and faith that can reveal the truth….
Cancer can kill the body but the spirit is still God’s
His love is the best treatment for this disease
The best remedy for any need
With God, all things are possible – just believe!
Cancer Ivy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
June 1, 2021
Categories:
deathlike, angst, cancer, fear, hope,
Form:
Free verse
4.
Each dawn, the cold steps back a pace,
In the lengthening light the cold steps back
As the lands rise fresh and free from deathlike sleep again,
To play the full young mother dressed in life itself,
Strolling through the warming, waxing sun.
Growth and generation give the lie
To the empty time, short before
Everything renewed proclaims exoneration from stasis
Breauty runs riot, freed from its long waiting
To declare its immortality again.
For he and she love grows anew
In hopes reborn spring's thaw
The heart's slow healing gathers force with the blooming
As they pull the threads of their lives back together,
Sewing them closer with trust and forgiveness,
Going on again in the thousand-odd ways
That make a single life of two.
Love trumpets again in smug triumph
Through the wakening world,
For it too is one of the old, strong forces,
The one that holds together what would fain break itself apart
To its own rack and ruin;
The ultimate surgeon,
Healing with slow steely cuts
Cauterizing the strangely sweet wells of pain
With unquenchable fire
That burns,
Promethean.
Categories:
deathlike, change, feelings, forgiveness, future,
Form:
Free verse
(A Shadow Sonnet)
Earth mother, now return to Mother Earth
for time has taken what you were born for.
Listen for its call, oh dear one, listen,
and answer, before it pulls both thee and
me. As rain washes earth's green over me,
I remember your thumb, stained green as I.
Sun brightened the hue, rain chased the sun.
hands tilled the soil, but dirt clung on hands
to flake from green fingertips, and thus to
spread the seed; bring back life to deathlike spread,
"green up" our world as your spade cast forth green,
too singled in purpose to compass two
who work together— as partners will— who
eye the same plot of land with reaper's eye.
Categories:
deathlike, environment, garden, mother daughter,
Form:
Sonnet
The winds breathe nights darkness,
and she comes trailing a gown, black and velvety;
inky i n k y deeply black,
from the endless canopy above;
with a deathlike silence, yet,
the wind breathes, and
somewhere a night owl hoots,
hoot hoot h o o t HOOT . . .
Loud silence,
if you listen.
N I G H T - a time for sleeping and for weeping,
and darkness comes creep c r e e p i n g;
in quietness and stillness my sleepy eyes close,
and I pull the curtain of . . . . repose.
________________________________
September 24, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"The Curtain Of Repose"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-833-273-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, 100 In A Row, 16
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Seventh Place
Categories:
deathlike, night,
Form:
Verse
The winds sigh to the evenings soul of darkness,
and night comes trailing a gown of black velvet;
inky i n k y black mysterious and moonless,
is the endless canopy.
Within this deathlike silence,
a nightingale calls;
and somewhere an owl hoots,
hoot hoot h o o t HOOTS . . .
Such a lucid silence,
and peace;
a time for prayer and for weeping.
The spirit of sleep comes to me creep c r e e p i n g,
s l o w l y my weary eyes close;
and I pull the curtain of . . . sleep.
_______________________________
June 13, 2016 (Edited July 30, 2018)
Poetry/Verse/"The Curtain of Sleep
Copyright Protected, ID 1021-076-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to, End of July 2018 Standard Contest,
Sponsor Brian Strand
First Place
Categories:
deathlike, dark, deep,
Form:
Verse
I find nothing to fill the emptiness,
Of a very cold grey moment
In the endless time of my waking up attempts,
When feeling is painful and the morning is fogged,
Time comes and goes as I try to understand,
Understanding becomes big, huge as a true thing can be,
Truth is relative they say,
Points of view and ways to see,
Interacting is so self defined,
Perceptions float when empty seems deathlike,
Silence in and out is not necessarily peace,
Nothing is rational in a sleepy fogged mind,
But the sun has no fault for this,
So,
I decide to get up from my warm bed,
In a fogged, cold, grey and empty morning,
Carry on my sleepy, fogged mind,
With the conviction this certainly is a different day.
Categories:
deathlike, introspection, life
Form:
Free verse
Brexit Sonnet No. 29
‘Snake Oil’
The tumbleweed rolls with silence across our set,
Saloon doors swing to access boarded walk,
As gunslingers stride their silent deadly threat,
And graveyard stones of next to greet do talk.
The Sheriff’s jail is filled with drunks and bums.
Saloon plays not its upright western tune,
While honest folk await to see what comes,
As stage pulls up in town at highest noon.
A pair of leopard-print shoes now peep out proud,
From stagecoach door as arrivals drop down stairs.
Their owner stands, surveys the gathered crowd,
And pulls from carpet bag their snake oil wares.
To sell is easy in one crazy town like this,
My snake oil offering for Brexit’s deathlike kiss.
©Keith Murphy
Categories:
deathlike, political, , western,
Form:
Sonnet
It was shifting night of eyes and things;
Of smoky fires and spells to sing.
Where witches dance and fairies prance
And night takes flight upon its wings.
October wind, chilled too soon,
Blows beneath the misty moon.
Drifting clouds like ragged shrouds
Enhance the coming gloom.
Within the woods a cat-like tread;
A hung-still moment of nameless dread.
A flash of light then blackest night,
And there stood they, the walking dead.
A crackling fire they quick surround
And dance a dance of leaps and bounds.
Black hair flying, voices crying,
The dancers from the graveyard mounds.
The moon casts forth a deathlike sheen
On these creatures from a madman’s dream.
But to childhood’s ghosts they drink a toast,
And celebrate this Halloween
Categories:
deathlike, autumn, celebration, halloween, horror,
Form:
Rhyme
Confused
Written: by Tom Wright
7/22/2017
Recently, I experienced Sudden Cardiac Arrest,
Doctors said any hope of my living looked grim.
But to the power of prayer I can readily attest,
And prayer warriors had placed all faith in Him.
On the first day of January I was clinically dead,
And seven times defibulator paddles hit my chest.
Four days after surgery I lay comatose in bed,
A multitude of problems were being addressed.
Doctors and nurses could see my life slipping,
Most of my organs had now ceased to function.
My life was hanging on sixteen bags dripping,
But God had control of my body’s dysfunction.
From above, toward me, music was directed,
Six songs played simultaneous that I could discern.
By others, this music, could not be detected,
And the simplest things I began to relearn.
My living, Doctors said was beyond explaining,
Why I was so deathlike and misunderstood.
But God still has a purpose, for my remaining,
A role beyond my ability, used for His good;
God has all power over life and the grave,
And at this moment I’m wrapped in His love.
He won’t allow Satan, my life, to enslave,
But keep me from things I’m uncharacteristic of.
Around the Hospital they called me Miracle Man, The Protected One
And a fighter.
Categories:
deathlike, celebration, god, health, heaven,
Form:
Lyric
Akin Twin Invisible Presence Coaxing...
Action across ouija board
fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits,
perhaps a dimension unexplored
of twilight zone, (where spirit
of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath
of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation
from an atheist sword
like cross my heart), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still
participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...(Without explanation, there
gets heard a clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn
freed from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...a deathlike
stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades so painfully quiet
as if...all sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in the black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled his poem used to
"grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he who dashes off runners block
as a blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But..., aye...beg (bribe with
all the wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought with eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst
computer laptop black keys!
Categories:
deathlike, allusion, dark, fantasy, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
The woman lying on the hospital bed
Silent, intuition discerning
The last breath, last sigh, goodbye
Whispered beneath a soft cry
From the soul who she was leaving behind
She had been a daughter, a wife, a mother
She’d known sorrow, sadness, hurting
While still believing in the times
When joy filled her heart, soul and mind
With memories of pleasures so satisfying
The woman was thin, so skinny bones jabbed
At the ones who bent to hug her
Leave their mark, their kiss, there on her cheek
Where tearstains had left their reproach
Small details of a light, a life, almost concluded
She had sharp blue eyes that sparkled like stars
In the heavens after a summer storm passed by
Eyes so alive they could nearly speak
With words of passion, praying and praising
Promising to shine through the passing that was so near
The woman had taught me things I couldn’t know
Would accompany me through small wars
Second thoughts, death and divorce
Wonderful dreams and moments of pure fear
Wisdoms that would never disappoint me
She once bandaged my cuts and bruises
Applying ointments and solutions
While assuring me that I would heal in time
Just as she had mended herself
From so many hospital stays and sick days
The woman was much like a whisper
Silencing my worries with her tenderness
Breathing rich blessings through my life
With hope, faith and love that would guide
Coloring my thoughts in hues of Godly light
She was so quiet now, lying in the big bed
That seemed to consume her with crisp, white sheets
Reminding me that she was so close
To carrying wings instead of that deathlike pallor
Which revealed the moment on the horizon…
The last sigh – the one that still haunts me
With its heavy handed weakness
The feeble breath of a frail old woman
Who knew that living would soon mean
Giving up the life that had been given her…
By a heavenly Father who would soon welcome her!
The last sigh – was her spirit’s sendoff!
Your Favorite Poem Of 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
November 22, 2021
Categories:
deathlike, caregiving, childhood, death, goodbye,
Form:
Free verse