Best Lovedeath Poems
“Precept”
Death’s reign is but a world of carnal minded concepts,
Within which illusions of it own harlot are kept,
As minds counterfeit the Sacred Hearts of the precept,
In containments of worldly forms of the mind’s inept!
My precept withstood this selfish whore’s galore… to the face,
As she sought to hid herself in complexity’s mace,
I gained a new precept face, standing against concept’s disgrace,
As economic whore sought to remove truth by it's fast pace!
Death concepts thereof are conveniences of the mind’s absolve,
As compassions of grace, of brotherly face, are not involved,
Truth is seldom heard in this world of which it’s scribes resolve,
Bribes of scribes, politicians have lied, around this they revolve!
The carnal of mind knows not what they do as death pursues,
The goat will gloat, sheep the mind will not promote...bid adieu,
I’ve stood in the gap of mind’s mishap, the gap(!), I construe!
I’ve stood the test, I've earned Father’s rest, I receive my due!
I bid adieu to the death of the stubborn minds astute,
In heaven’s choir, they will never give Gabriel’s flute.. a toot,
The carnal mind just doesn’t compute...the precept acute,
For higher cosmic affair...holds no flair...for brute's pollute!
Like a penny, lost and worthless, woman
mother, and buried within the origin pit, dark
she brought me like a Jezebel into her life of mourning
mistress of the stage and child to horror
born, and off he ran, forced flight my father, loss
the hussy dies but on Edgar lives in awe.
Blood and death and pain feed Poe’s awe.
Why she had done, what soul had she, this woman
leaving him a found fledgling of loss?
“Why, why, bring me into this hellish dark?”
Coal black the pit and pendulum of this zealot father’s horror
the devil’s drink brought penitence and forced, mourning.
“Bastard child!” his stepfather screamed in mourning
as his new Mother looked on in awe.
And, his new brother watched on in horror,
the lash was not spared nor kindness brought by woman.
In the starkness of his mind there was only dark.
Abandoned child, Poe, and his rescuers brought only loss.
“Run, leave, you villains all!” He cried. “There is only loss!”
So on, he wrote into the dark and mourning.
The ink the Prussian blue released the anguish his dark.
Intuition, and superstitious fright will feed him awe.
Cousin, sister, wife, would be his woman
the banshees cry, her bloody death became his horror.
“Alone, alone…” The corbies’s caw brings horror,
but for the devil’s drink, he’s naught but loss........
“Lenore…..” He’ll wall his tainted heart away from woman
and make his blasted soul the start of mourning.
“To hell with you!” He screams at those in awe
of his blank and burned out hulk of dark.
Bricked in or deep within the ripest dark...
“God, so alone……….” He hides in horror,
forlorn, depraved and not at all in awe.
For there is no romance found in loss
no beauteous bounty in the dross of mourning,
no family, friend or wife not tainted, born from woman.
So, Poe lives and dies in awe of the dark.
Where woman’s deepest depths bring only horror
and loss is all he knows in light of mourning.
The end of the road is a gloomy place to be
There is nothing there, nothing for the eyes to see
The end of the road is where I now stand
I wish you are with me, I wish I could hold your hand
The end of the road is where we will all one day end
Wishing in our hearts we got off when we took that last bend
The end of the road is the place to say goodbye
The place where the heart's hopes and dreams do die
The end of the road can come sooner than expected
It will all depend on the path that you selected
The end of the road is fate's most horrible surprise
Makes your heart feel like its as cold as ice
The end of the road is what I now face
I should bow out and exit this world with grace
Here at the end of the road is where I leave you my heart
Please know that I will always love you even as I now depart
(What is the end of the road? Is it death?
Yes it is death in whatever form, could be physical death or it could be the death of a heart
but whatever kind of death you see in this poem, one thing remains that even at the end of
the road the soul still chooses to give importance to that person he considers his half, even if
she doesn't feel the same)
JEB
Death where is thy sting, Oh grave where is thy victory?
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.
The Bible tells us this in the book of Psalms, Chapter 116, verse 15.
As a clear picture it paints.
Everyone looks at death in a different way
Some believe that death is an end to all existence, so they say.
Christians believe that death will bring them from one life on this sod.
To a life of Heavenly bliss with their Eternal God.
In other words to be absent from the body,
is to be present with the Lord God Almighty.
When someone dies, we should realize that they will only be absent for awhile.
Then remember our hope and be happy and smile.
For they have fought their battle already anyway
And no longer on this sinful earth do they have to stay.
Remember that Jesus conquered death at Easter time.
That He chose to die to save all of mankind.
But death didn't keep Him in the tomb you see.
He conquered it and rose the third day to set us free.
As in Adam all men shall die. even so in Christ shall all be made alive.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death and then we will all thrive!!!!!!!
*DEATH
Her name is now a legend
Before her name was feared
The lady Henrietta
Lean close and lend an ear
They say her status started
One night long time ago
She found her husband cheating
With the girl she knew next door
Her mind did snap
Her heart grew cold
With a knife she stole their souls
Cut the beating heart away
Ate flesh when cold
Within her veins flowed the blood
Of the one who done her wrong
Gave her everlasting life
Her age in death was old
But one small thing that should be said
About the spell she cast
That beauty would always be her guide
In death she looked her best
Word spread quickly through the town
Where Henrietta lived
About the spell she cast the night
Her husband committed sin
Women came to ask for help
To change their husband’s ways
For they had also messed around
Now love for them had strayed
With each one she gave the spell
Steps to end their grief
Now in the town such beauty found
In women who’s husbands cheat
With new found beauty each started life
Fresh and young again
And if the man they loved did cheat
Revenge was sweet again
Many many years went by
And soon the town was gone
Towards the end all that was left
Were women who were scorned
But in woods outside the town
In a placed called Widow’s Peak
You find plots of all the ones
Whose death came from a cheat
So this story lives today
If you doubt then ask around
For the one you love and share a life
Could be a widow from that town
All men beware all women ask
Before you start your cheating
In every city and every town
A Widow’s Peak is forming
Believe me if you will or not
In the end you’ll heed the warning
Just let the one you love find out
To Widow’s Peak you’re going
Then Thisbe stole forth as agreed upon
Unobserved her head covered with a veil
Out of city’s bounds edifice well known
Waited for Pyramus near a fountain trail.
In the dim light she descried a lioness
Nearing the fountain with blood reeking jaws
With a recent slaughter to slake her thirst.
She fled dropping her veil out of fright.
After quenching thirst turned back for her cove
Renting the veil in bloody mouth on her retreat
But Venus won’t always befriend true love.
Having delayed Pyramus arrived there
Saw footsteps of the lioness in the sand
And found the veil all bloody over there
Crying picked up the rent veil in his hand.
Thought himself to be the cause of her death
Covering the veil with kiss and with tear
And said, come ye lioness tear with your teeth
Let my blood also shall stain your texture.
He plunged sword into his heart with a shove
Blood spurted tinging the tree with red color
But Venus won’t always befriend true love.
Thisbe stepped out not to disappoint him
She noticed the change in the tree’s color
In the agonies of death she saw him.
A shudder ran as ripple in still water.
She saw her veil and his scabbard empty.
He has slain himself for her sake only.
She said, “I could be brave and follow thee
Death alone couldn’t prevent my joining thee
Love and death join us, one tomb be our grove”
She plunged the sword in her breast near the tree
But Venus won’t always befriend true love.
Envoi
Such tale of the self-less love presented
The two bodies in one tomb were buried
Pyramus-Thisbe tale our hearts do move
Berries serve memorials of their blood
But Venus won’t always befriend true love.
===================================
Rhyme scheme : ababccddede Envoi- ddede
Love is Christianity not religion
Religion is devised of mind mischief!
Love dwells not religiously in a mind of mischief
But a mind swells religiously in it’s mischief!
So renew the mind to be Love’s kind
Dwell not religiously in the mind!
Folks, Love is all the reality there is
Not of ego of mind’s show biz!
Temporal lessons of life a quiz
To teach your mind where your Love is!
Your mind displays your tree of death
And by it’s tongue accomplishes it’s quest!
Speak now or forever hold your peace
Good advice, first determine your yeast!
Is it religion or is it Love
Of the mind or of a heart of Love!
There is no power but of God’s Love............................................(c Ro. 13:1)(I john 4:8)
Love, the power of your choice, death or life!............................(c Deut. 30:19)(Pr. 18:21)
Without the very mercies of Love
Humanity never would rise above!
The being of choice, life or death
Every human being has voice of choice!
Foolish to blame a God who is Love
For the death of your very own voice!
1-9-10 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
I felt at unease
My love, at tease
I embraced her close
Yet feared I her loss
She saw my sweat and fear
And my eyes look elsewhere
“What has put your heart on fire
Has my lover turned to a liar?
What secret have you got to hide
If love other, then with me confide”
Replied I
“For past few weeks
Have I been in pains
My heart trembles
In fear, humbles
When I see you approach
I see Her too encroach
I wish to love you at all times
But She shatters all my hopes
Both of you are as real
I cannot deny you either
Ah! Death is her name
Separation is her game
She comes uninvited
To have lovers frightened
Nightmare of life is she,
Pirate of Lovers’ sea is she
Ridicule of love, her hobby
She cares not for any lobby
Ah! Death is her name
Separation is her game
I knew I should have just walked away;
The moment I laid eyes on you I should have...
I don’t know...blocked you out
I should have seen the blaring danger sign above your head,
Should have heard my heart’s agonised screams of longing –
And I should have realised you would be the death of me
But then I guess I’m a bit funny that way;
I always seem to walk straight toward death,
I seem to throw my arms around my own destruction –
And draw it deeper and deeper inside me,
The way I did to you...
Perhaps it’s just masochism, or perhaps I find death enchanting
Well, when death looks like you, who wouldn’t?
You are so beautiful it beggars belief;
It almost hurts my eyes to look at you –
Your radiance dazzles, and causes me to trip and fall
To fall so hard my heart cracks - and bruises like an overripe peach;
And meanwhile you never even stumble
You just breeze effortlessly into my life, into my body,
Into the aching chasm of my heart,
And there you leave your mark, carving it into the living flesh...
Proclaiming me your latest conquest, your latest homicide
Christ you’ve hurt me; Christ you’ve got me good
Clasped so tight in your Judas grip you fill me to the brim with love
And then with brusque indifference you slam the door in my face
And melt into the desert sands with not even a backward glance...
And as for me – like a dumb fool I sit and watch you go
Speechless with suffering, wracked with raping pain
I know there is nothing I can do to stop you
Know it’s my fault you’re gone – if only...
If only I were prettier, funnier, purer...
If only I had never let you in
If only I had listened to my intuition and wistfully walked away....
I could have saved myself from death on that very first black day
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would kiss every inch of the page, to drench it
With my last breathings of doomed love
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would spray each corner with Arabian perfume,
So you will always associate death not with the chilling scents of
Decomposing flesh, or freshly turned soil, but with a heady
Intoxicating fragrance
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would use many inks in rainbow colours, to soothe
The ache of my parting words – to paint a kaleidoscopic picture of
My beautiful misery
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would not waste time listing my miseries,
For they were countless, and too heavy for a sheet of paper
To bear
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would compose it sitting on my bed, my legs a creamy white
Against the starched white sheet, my face lifting now and then
To the window, to distract myself from the solemnity by
Observing my final sunset
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would use the word ‘love’ as often as my heart
Nervously beats, in preparation for the coming stillness
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would remind you that were it not for you I would
Never have lived at all
I would tell you how you lifted my soul,
How you dragged me up from the depths,
The proverbial lotus flower pushing its blooms through
The sucking black mud
I would tell you how you were always with me,
Even when you weren’t – how your memory
Haunted, gently, bitter-sweetly
I would tell you how every time I closed my eyes
I saw your face,
Etched by angel fingers on the thin red easels of my lids
I would tell you how, to me, this feeble dying girl,
You were the most beautiful thing in the world
More beautiful than fresh-blooming roses,
Or a tropical sunset
More sacred than temples or churches
More radiant than the sun,
That blazing god
More poignant than the moon,
In all her melancholy splendor
More overwhelming than my frail heart could bear
If I were to write a suicide note,
It would quickly become a love sonnet,
Devoted wholly to you
And my death would be lost in the subtext...
are you so afraid to look at death because it would impair your ability to live?
or are you that self-induldged that you can not find it in yourself to forgive?
time is near the layers of corpses will be eased into a mass grave on a slide
are your thoughts full of memories of death that hinder the limbic region of your mind?
the hand cart is rolling for the tare those seeds will be thrown into the fire
and the weakened thump of a vragant vessel loses compassion and desire
will your soul be magnified or diminished before the throne of God?
will you be weighed for righteousness or pointed out by the saviors
rod?
DEATH i seek ,
to all whos weak.
DEATH i seek
to you i speak
Form:
Go saddle me the black black steed
For I am going on a long long journey
Go wipe away the tears that roll
Across brawny cheeks of gypsie lassie.
Fifteen well made men going on their steeds
To get their brides leap over the strand
The brunt hills in search of a namer
Drying fast to justify conscript of land.
Twilled with a broach and a ring wintry
The death stalks the hill with sickled moon
The leaden sheen on the steed’s back
Has turned the night’s face into a roon.
Late late yesterday I saw the moon
Full bodied like a new sickled maned
The death will stalk these streets tonight
And am afraid of downy owl’s nickled bane.
Come on fair ladies hang your hair down
Over the fair head over the abordour
The fifteen men have gone to castle waste
And along came the death to devour.
Go saddle me the black black steed
The merry castle keep has hovelled a cry
Though death stalks every haste and waste
And brawny cheeks of gypsie have gone dry.
outside she is sitting alone,
wanting her love that abandoned her
he left her broken Heart
shocked and depressed
and went for another girl
he loves her-
but he doesnt show it
longing to see her face, hear her voice
just one more time
so his Heart can stop yearning for her
it is a painful process-
wanting the person whom
you left for someone else
when they do not love you back
but take your money not your love
she loves him-
and he knows it
she tries to tell him so
but he ignores her-
embarassed by the attention she gives
then she leaves him
takes back her love
and moves away to another
he misses her violently
oh how much she means to him!
then slowly and painfully
a romantic death he suffers
because his Heart is shattered
shattered like a thousand little diamonds
glistening in the ominous moonlight
but back she came-
back to her soulmate
that made her feel so happy
then alas!
news of his death reaches her ears
screaming in anguish
she reaches for the deathtool
holding it to her source of life
memories flooding before her eyes
putting it down the anger weakens
she lies down by his side
how cold he feels,
white as a sheet he looks
his eyes are fixed
on something that she can't see
crying for him-
wanting to feel his tender warmth
she then dies of a broken Heart,
by his side hand in hand
Hearts are joined forever-
in all Eternity they will be.
Perusing the tomes of esoterica,
One truth I've learnt indeed,
Not one book contains it all.
There's always more to read.
Axiom mixed with allegory,
Abstract salt and misty sulphur.
Is this that famous alchemy?
I'll find the quintessence myself.
I wonder will my pupils burn,
Ere I see the salamander?
Peradventure I'll go blind,
Gazing at the flame.
Kundalini's far too painful,
No snakes I'll squeeze from there!
Keep the stick; I disdain your wand,
And those dowdy robes of rite.
You banish nought excepting creed,
So your mind can play in circles.
Dr Dee, did you notice,
Darkness in reflection?
Enoch's sigils say no more,
Arcane shapes that never shine.
Antiquated and obscure,
The like of which I can't define.
No Angels tap upon my pane,
I think they've lost their wings?
Or John and Eddy were insane,
Who can read their mirror?
I covet a theophany,
To behold an avatar.
But none have manifested yet,
Perhaps they are asleep?
I heard the Masons in cabal,
'Find the tent within thyself.'
Alas their holy pillars crumble,
When their master's meet.
Will I become the charioteer?
And overcome my obstacles.
Maybe the Tower's drawn for me,
'I'll see you at the bottom.'
To then be threshed by death himself,
Though his charger l won't fear.
Nor that upon his hasty heels,
For death is only transition.
A torchless Hermit I'll remain,
Engaged in futile rumination.
The change I will, will not occur,
Therefore the Fool forever I'll be.