Best Life Death Poems
Musing on this life of mine
Alone I wonder if it's time?
Robin sings in my heart
Fluttering wings like cupid's dart.
Have been hurt, no doubt caused pain
Hearing robin's song again
Before I journey who knows where?
Know angelic wings will take me there.
The time has come and gone again
I'm stoic now what's left to gain
The universe will keep me here
Perhaps a day, perhaps a year.
A harbinger called to seal my fate
My gentle songbird set no date
Listen carefully you might hear
Angelic music have no fear.
Categories:
life death, angel, beauty, bird, blessing,
Form:
Couplet
As every drop hath magic of its own,
And yet within a river finds its whole,
So are our lives of merit all alone,
And yet a facet in a greater soul.
Or as a shard of light that shines in spring,
Within the fabric of the dazzling day;
We are like notes with which a choir can sing,
But having sung, like notes, we fade away.
Strange thing our moment’s glory is not long,
Is but a passing glance within the all;
So great the wealth of beauty flowing strong,
It little cares that you and I shall fall.
As when at last the final ember’s gone,
A bird is lost, and yet the flock flies on.
Categories:
life death, allusion, death, life, river,
Form:
Sonnet
God Gave You a Second Chance
Not ready to leave this world with unfinished business determining the souls color; you’re on borrowed time! Prayers to heaven and words spoken from the heart brought perspective to what time remained. Fear and regret knowing this may be the end brought us closer than before. Always by your side loving, giving freely would now perhaps help spare your life adding color to your heart and soul.
The soul colored with Hope, Faith, and Love, the greatest being Love! I wonder have you given God what was expected for a second chance at life to color your heart and soul. Color determines the hearts purity and the soul’s condition.
Souls are empty without love in the purest form; if you do not receive and give without fear, shame, or doubt! From the outside looking in many colors of love surround your soul. I pray the love I give you understand the colors surrounding my heart and soul.
Love was holding you when death looked you in the face and love put death on hold! God and I give you Love. How do you face life and death now, with a heart and soul of vivid colors nourished by our love? God blessed us and we know what matters most. You now live your bucket list, God’s too.
Your list will end, mine too. Sharing with a loved one brings special meaning, understanding, and allows comfort taking away fear, pain, and panic. With unconditional love all’s shared. Colors of the soul glow, angels gather, and God gently lifts one unto himself. The guardian angels exit; slowly colors fade, a feeling passes the one left behind as the end has come. I imagine the colors of love in the heart and soul.
Debbie Knapp
Categories:
life death, hope, husband, inspirational, wife,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
For life was not meant to end in death
Our breath of life was heaven sent
But this is our morbid destiny
For Eve picked the apple from the tree
And plunged us into a world of sin
Where evil is birthed from within
And now death is part of life’s game
Because we filled our hearts with shame
But….I will NOT lie down and simply die
I will fight with every ounce… I’ll try
To cheat death and give him the slip
Before he plants his kiss on my lip
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will blaze and burn in a brilliant flame
I will leave behind poems to my name
I will speak with eloquence, oh so fine
Before I become oblivious to time
I will NOT "go gentle into that good night"
I will "rage, rage against the dying of the light"
I will hold your hand one last time
And smile sweetly, a smile sublime
I will tell you to live and not to mourn
To drink in life and death to scorn
To be all that you were meant to be
For in that you’ll taste eternity
But most of all before I leave
I’ll make you promise not to grieve
But to rage and rage against this death
And live, truly live till your last breath
I beg you, do not go gently into the night
You must rage against the dying of the light
Eileen Manassian Ghali
In Response to the poem by Dylan Thomas, "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night." One of my favorite poems!
Categories:
life death, death, life, life, death,
Form:
Couplet
Where were you so long ago?
All those eons before a tot.
In some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You were not.
On a shelf of surplus stock,
A soul dressed up in heavens frock.
Perhaps a spirit not yet wrought,
No. Not there. You were not.
Then began your book of life,
It’s made in volumes three.
The past, the present,
And the yet to be.
Will you write only pleasant,
As you pen volume present?
Avoiding matters to disavow,
Parting life’s waves by your prow.
Crashing the crest before the break,
Leaving burst bubbles in your wake.
What great act earns its worth,
And a lasting mark upon the earth?
Is that mark worth the grind,
Should your labor be realigned?
The train of life rolls on rails of time,
And travel stops at the end of the line.
When that ending word is writ,
The final one that you submit.
When there is no more yet-to-be,
You close the cover on volume three.
The tome is closed. Where do you go?
To the place you were taught?
To some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You are not.
Your Book of Life, a mere spark,
Bounded by bookends of eternal dark.Where were you so long ago?
All those eons before a tot.
In some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You were not.
On a shelf of surplus stock,
A soul dressed up in heavenly frock.
Perhaps a spirit not yet wrought,
No. Not there. You were not.
Then began your book of life,
It’s made in volumes three.
The past, the present,
And the yet to be.
Will you write only pleasant,
As you pen volume present?
Avoiding matters to disavow,
Parting life’s waves by your prow.
Crashing the crest before the break,
Leaving burst bubbles in your wake.
What great act earns its worth,
And a lasting mark upon the earth?
Is that mark worth the grind,
Should your labor be realigned?
The train of life rolls on rails of time,
And travel stops at the end of the line.
When that ending word is writ,
The final one that you submit.
When there is no more yet-to-be,
You close the cover on volume three.
The tome is closed. Where do you go?
To the place you were taught?
To some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You are not.
Your Book of Life, a mere spark,
Bounded by bookends of eternal dark.
Categories:
life death, atheist, death, friendship, life,
Form:
Rhyme
What’s left behind is the fragrance of the lilac
Crushed between forlorn fingers
Petals held in contorted hands
Once lust rendered dust the terrain shall cover
Fierceness is abandoned forgiveness is given
To whom does this come, whom shall it deem
As father time allots and consumes
Pro tem I am, pro tem I am
an irrepressibly creative force
Manifesting myself
by channeling a myriad of diverse
and inexplicably bold personas
struggling to leave resonance in my wake
to whom does this come
this legacy that lives on~
is what I shall be
Categories:
life death, analogy, deep, i am,
Form:
Haibun
She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog,
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand,
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house,
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago.
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim.
nor'easter winds roll top shoe box...
splinter the silence.. -- debutante' caught in amber
a cataract view frozen sepia
Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily, she polishes the cold glass,
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime,
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes,
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement.
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water,
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow.
__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"
Categories:
life death, dark, death, farewell, loss,
Form:
Verse
“LIKE A MADMAN THINKS HE'S GOD, WE THINK WE'RE MORTAL”. Delaland, Speech on Shadows
Transparency is the key to the social harmony. Transparent people pass through each other like light through water. No one blocks out the sunshine, no one bars the way, no one stands in line in front of the other. The content of pockets, stomachs and minds are all in plain view. Mutual permeability, politeness, indifference. The see through popeyed souls, as sleepy as fish in an aquarium, come alive only at the sight of you, poet. You're opaque and therefore dangerous. You're a poet and therefore guilty. Alas, there is nothing more impenetrable than the walls in a transparent prison. But soon, from the height of your scaffold, you will see the world as opaque as you that awaits you on the other side of life.
get him grab his legs
hold him down I'll chop it off…
where'd you go poet
Dedicated to Cincinnatus C., the protagonist of the novel "Invitation to a Beheading" by Vladimir Nabokov
21.11.2019
Opaque Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausin
Categories:
life death, death, life, poets,
Form:
Haibun
"Beware Of the Ides of the men on black"
The judges and jurors of our fates, blink.
Every time we will, they will reform it
They even gave them new uniforms
But they preferred the black 'It suits them mos'
And more guns,lesser humanity.
The Leaders of tomorrow are forbidden from seeing the morrows.
Put on rags, glorify poverty;
Just maybe, you will live to see another day of this craze of population control.
While the men on black and their rifle embark on patrol.
Pim pim,
Vroom vroom,
Police vans, parked by road sides
And policemen standing akimbo on major roads
With flash torches, flashing bright lights
Into the faces of incoming drivers
And their passengers if any.
A remainder of
'You better hold change
Or we seize the whole money'
'The Police is Your friend' with stern faces
Hello, young man may we know you.
"Paddy mi, make we gather reach town"
4:20pm, Fresh fine boys gunned downtown.
One, two shots!
Another happy-trigger officer had shot his shots.
"Oga Olopa wetin my pikin do you?"
The oceans flowed endlessly, as their mothers cried.
"Tattoo, dreadlocks, piercing not our culture!"
The Police report read.
For dumbness echoes now, while wisdom has been coerced into a deep sleep.
The toils of tomorrow built with the youth's blood.
GHOPS (Pa Shakespeare) x O.C Adolf
Categories:
life death, absence, abuse, africa, allusion,
Form:
Didactic
countless years of toil took toll on his health,
cruel poverty ravaged his handsome looks,
beloved wife fell sick, closed her tired eyes,
only friend remaining the dearest violin..
and little chirping birdie in cage for comfort!
gifted musician kept on playing
the best tunes he created in his life…
charming melodies from his tender childhood,
endearing family, beautiful cottage
beside a murmuring brook, humming songs
amidst the lap of magnificent nature!
when glorious golden love blossomed
like a ruby red rose at teenage years,
dainty beautiful damsel held his hands,
together they imagined of a peaceful life,
with love and music, Violin and Guitar !
life didn't work out the way they fondly dreamed,
poverty, hard work, painful diseases...
bitter sadnesses of the real world,
finally the soulmate departed, leaving
him behind lonely with a heavy heart!
sound of Violin still enchants the empty space,
tiny Koel from the hills, the intent listener !
October 20, 2022
"Painting Prompted" Poetry Contest
Picture: 3
155 words (160 max.)
Sponsor: Lisa YY
FIRST PLACE
Categories:
life death, loneliness, music,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Just Beyond The Gate
David J Walker
There is a road
there is a cliff
there is certain rendezvous
just beyond where
There is life
There is death
There is light lit
By excised breath
There is sleep
Lying in wait
Just beyond a
Final dawn and unknow fate where
There is the low laughter
Of a river
And pasture with green grass
Just beyond the gate
Categories:
life death, allegory, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Life and Death in two separated clusters, Klimt draws conflicts.
The serenity of his cycle of life is bright in pure color, he depicts.
A modern dance of death, yet he offers pause in what is inevitably set.
Death savoring in anticipation, musing with the decision “Not yet”.
Idly, death looks on, a sinister smile upon the gruesome face.
He has no semblance of human form except a skull in place.
Bones clutch a scepter as he seems to have found something to amuse.
His robe of blue adorned by crosses, is he deciding which one to choose ?
The manifestation of death at a distance from the slumbering cycle of life.
A child to the young women, a muscular male and the old, fear no strife.
Beautiful rounded forms clad with gently patterned clothes,
Seemingly unperturbed by the grim reaper, everyone loathes.
There is an eternal confrontation between death and life.
Depictions of death usually show as dangerous as a knife.
Opposed to the life depicted in a passive sleep like state.
The purposeful asymmetrical balance is to differentiate.
Death lies in wait in his blue robe with many a gaping grave.
And yet hope of a reconciliation, seems that he will save.
Not the evil lurking death, tempting them from their bed,
Time to tell with the circle of life, will he allow them to live on instead?
Categories:
life death, dance, death, life,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Oh, how cold you are, heavenly lights! But there are the earthly lights that promise weary travelers a rest. Interrupting for a moment the eternal movement from dark to light, we stretch out cold fingers to a fire and look up. The Universe gets cold, galaxies flee, supernovae explode and turn into interstellar ghosts, stars fall and their long-long tails as the portents of our coming wanderings, measure the distances of empty spaces. Oh, how hot a sip of coffee is! How sweet is a random kiss in the dark!
get some rest and go
to where cold heavenly lights
eternally shine
14.08.2019
Shooting Stars Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Categories:
life death, dark, death, life, light,
Form:
Haibun
Spring arrived, ‘Twas the dawn of man
Consciousness exploded with a Big Bang
We foraged inquisitively for berries and nuts
Soon building settlements and primitive huts
A subtle spark conjured otherworldly fire
And with it came a burning desire
Tales of titans and mythical creatures
Serpents and beasts with grotesque features
Summer arose, out rolled the wheel
Stonework replaced by the forging of steel
Harnessing power from great rivers and streams
Oceans soon conquered by ships of dreams
There were wondrous amphitheaters without a flaw
Spectacular cathedrals that left us in awe
Advances in medicine enhanced our lives
Youthful deaths seemed for the archives
Autumn emerged, the pinnacle of man
Although swarming to billions wasn’t the plan
The thriving Metropolis made man a city dweller
Piercing the sky with scrapers so stellar
Technology progressed to an unfathomable height
Our synapses fired so glaringly bright
We drove motor cars and traversed the stars
And even toyed with the idea of avatars
Winter came, and into ash we did burn
We dug our graves and had nowhere to turn
Conquered by robotics that we impatiently built
Mega cities crumbled to sand and silt
We gave godly power to Artificial Intelligence
Paying the ultimate price when they evolved to sentience
Mighty bombs dropped, and every city fell
The curtains sadly drawn as mankind bids farewell
Categories:
life death, earth, farewell, humanity, journey,
Form:
Rhyme
There is one who hung the stars in place.
Who set the cosmos like a timepiece
In sure rotation across the velvet sky.
He saw his reflection in the moon.
And like a candle
He held the Sun in his right hand.
He is bigger far than we can understand.
He fills the very universe we know.
His breath comes forth, and gives us life.
There is one who tracks the endless pathways of the night.
Dare we, poor mortals that we are?
Lift up our heads and ask if He is God?
Yet He calls to us;
And we hear Him in our hearts;
In music that our minds can't understand.
We are a river searching for it's source,
Yet we spill forth on;
Parched and barren land.
Still He calls us,
When the Spirit plays;
His pipes call us ever to the dance.
Our poor hearts seek him when our minds do not.
Yet something deep inside,
Knows we are His.
Like a gentle lover he stands and waits.
For each of us to reach and take His hand.
He calls, yet it is we who choose to come.
There is one much greater than you know.
Who is waiting now for you to come.
Run to Him feel His warm embrace.
Then you can join the angels in the dance.
Categories:
life death, angel, christian, faith, night,
Form:
Prose Poetry