Best Deceased Poems

~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~

Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead
Her death flowed in a messaged bottle
Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores,
Her conscience...

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In memory of----

Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air.
Overwhelm by the...

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Clarity, clarity, surely clarity is the most beautiful thing in the world, A limited, limiting clarity I have not and never did have any motive...

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Cars are the wind on the streets
semi-truck wheels shriek thunder,
rain shatters against stone and brick walls
on dusty roads, oak trees fence with twigs—
wushu wooden clatters.

Dreadful...

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In memory of---- all lives taken by unfair justice.

 Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
 I sit here alone...

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A sonnet I will write with you today
Inspired by the beauty that I see
Beyond this pane of glass where snowflakes play
Beyond this pane where raindrops...

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(Hello, my sweet friend!)

Speaks in unknown tongues 
Nevertheless it will consume
Ask for food, 
A sweet drink 
The hunger and thirst are real
It's pitchfork aims at...

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Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the...

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He never did see a face though only a board width away,
yet remembers feeling privileged, spending those last few moments
while trying so hard to find...

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Strangers are attacking me; 
ruthless men seek my life—
men without regard for God.  Selah

Psalm 54:3

GOD SEES THE COURAGEOUS AT WORK

Wild-eyed disregard for God —
The...

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“The death lasts an average of 49 days, starting from the day the deceased realized his death”. Bardo Thodol (The Tibetan Book of the Dead)


I...

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Nirveda (sansk.) - aversion to existence

"The existent there is no cessation". Bhagavat Gita, 2.16



Addicted to existence, I may slain
or, maybe, they may slain me. I...

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Burning in black flames of eternal woes,
my heart yearns to find answers it's needing.
Skin begins to wilt like a winter rose,
bruised from deep wounds of...

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You give me the desire
a love for composing 
word symphonies
yet you give me
the cross of mediocrity
to bear
day by day to know
there are others 
who are...

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Deceased
Released

Goodbye
I cry

Church pew
Hurts you

My bum
Now numb

No droppin*
The coffin!

4th March 2015
Written before dad’s funeral - I'll take my cushion to sit on lol
* not proper footle...

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