Death Bio Poems | Examples
These Death Bio poems are examples of Bio poems about Death. These are the best examples of Bio Death poems written by international poets.
True knowledge vs false = Science’s interpretation.
Old knowledge vs NOW = Growth’s explanation.
Knowable knowledge vs the unknowable = Wisdom’s poetry.
Creativity vs Reality = Religion’s reinterpretation.
Belief versus faith equals brainwashing on a massive hypnotic scale.
Sect vs class = Self-governing power-hungry survival of the richest.
The tangible vs the intangible = Parallel Universes.
Dreams vs being awake = Being alive!
Sleep vs, DEATH, the Big Sleep = what?
(Alternative title: "ARt MEdDler’s Interpretation of the Universe")
famous after death dutch painter van Gogh
vincent more often than not to nature did go
painted with cheap paints and shadows random
lived in poverty, painted as if chased by a phantom
cut off his ear, mentally ill, his art utterly ignored till
his death, now world famous for his great artistic skill
Wordwarrior
Authentic, conscientious, fun-loving and down to earth.
Daughter of Roger and Jean
Lover of strong friendships, family and food
Who feels grateful for many things, often content, and very rarely bored.
Who fears pain, chaos, and terrible danger such as death by fire
Who would like to see an end to poverty, inhumanity and her chronic ailments
Resident of Pleasant Grove, Utah
Miller
One daughter and one son have I.
The daughter brings light to my life.
My son just makes me want to sigh.
Everything seems to bring him strife.
Baby
A soul who is appreciative, creative, empathetic, spiritual
Mother of Tommy, Jr., Phyllis Brooks, and Doris Culverhouse
I love to read, write poetry, and observe nature
I try to keep my heart open to joy, gratitude, and hope
At times I fear death of my spouse, loneliness, and dementia
I would love to experience healing of the earth, end of war, and see Jesus
I am a resident of Thomaston, USA
Morgan
At times my children show their love
It seems to arrive on time and fit like a glove
My husband can be my supportive friend
Whom I believe will love me until the end
.
Eighteen
tuh
Eighty-eight
if i can't
walk'em
drag'em
*now 'fore y'all begin judgement, please read my write 12/7/23..
"Rusty boy toy"...young handsome tall men have tunz uv poetic thoughts
regard thoze age group women vide supra teach'n ourn man ;)...az for me,
i took notes... this one poetic note, vide supra, it's the promise; nothing
jocular about the thought, "unto death lover" ')
Can we just get gw to write real poetry
instead of all that over-politicized trash ...
Well frankly, my friends, 'frilly poetry's' nearly starved me to death
so, here's another piece of trash with my very last breath
I've seen you move with fire
Your spirit all aglow
You sang and wrote poems all winter,
New life you did reenter.
Faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
The reservoir you jogged
The Hudson where you biked,
Those were your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
faith had found you
You were like morning dew.
And then you disappeared
That devil's jealous heart,
Just kept coming after you
As life and death, you reviewed.
Faith had never left you
You were like morning dew.
So! if one's inner limp dims,
And no one seem to care,
Seek out your spot of healing
Your place of worship appealing.
*
In the aftermath of giving birth I personally had a out of body experience.
Welcoming life into this world, Something went iffy. I could scarcely hear the sounds on the hospital’s speakers
code blue. Nurses and doctors routinely and expeditiously maneuvered to bring me back to existence.
I personally visualized a impression of a manlike image
embracing me, kissed me on my right cheek saying go back my child i’m not finished with you after three days slumbering I was reawakened.
People out here in this World are agonized, wounded for more reasons than anyone may decipher.
Where’s the compassion? For another human being. It’s so much going on in the world, it makes one want to hollar. Somebody please tell me what’s going on in the world.
Losing a dear one is a feeling like tears overflowing like an enormous waterfalls uncontrollably in one’s mind, heart profusely beating. Unable to sustain one’s heart beat trying to inhale, exhale to the extent of exhaustion.
Into the world, I, chosen, born
marked with the finger of their God
upon my crown: a child of scorn
who fled to the rich land of Nod,
a land of hope and fields of corn,
of much to curse, and much to laud.
With angels, I called forth arcs of lightning
from out of the sky—and their power
in my outstretched hands was frightening.
But Nod's hatred, an evil shower,
denied youth's harsh but gradual brightening
of my childhood's most tender hour.
Then came the wraith! Though frightened, I
caught a full glance of the grim reaper.
At my bedside, stood it silently by,
as I peered at it ever deeper;
then it vanished! as I breathed a sigh,
frozen like a dead toddler sleeper!
Melancholy,
a storyteller, a poet, a painter, photographer;
like finding words to express me, doing sketches, and paintings,
have ideas about displaying my art, creating a nature journal, my garden.
Sometimes, I feel lonely and lost, oh will these seedlings ever grow,
I fear death, decay of my life treasures, my pets health;
would like to find acceptance of the past, present and future,
resident of this wonderful place we call Earth.
Writer . . .
__________________________________
March 24, 2020
Poetry/Bio Modified/Melancholy Writer
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1238-680-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
this girl,
ethereal, unworldly fragile, a writer
who embraces the love of a family, pets, and friends
lover of penning poetry, photography, and collecting vintage anything
who feels out of place in this world, always full of grief, and inspired by nature
who fears lost love, death, being a forgotten poet, the end of this Earth
who would like to be remembered for my beauty, tranquility, peacefulness
resident of this realm called Earth (and hopefully Heaven in time)
spiritual
_____________________________
January 27, 2016
Poetry/Bio/This Girl Spiritual
Copyright Protected, ID 16-1165-387-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, You and Yours
sponsor, Brian Strand
Second Place
Long ago sister I prayed for you
You listened through drug haze
Deaf ears blind eyes shamed
By past regrets you ignored my prayers
Lifeless you are close to death
I would gladly give you a lung
A kidney but I pray for you
Revival of your soul a must
Such a soul as yours to suffer
Why do you punish yourself
I will never know the love
God put in you at birth
Was such a gift you shared
Sickness should not prevail
I am with you forever
You will see my sister
As you have been for me
Your daughter will surely see.
God heal my sisters soul
Lift this sickness from her
I am your earth angel bless me
And guide and set her sickness free
Show me lord Jesus the way to heal
I am your soldier before you I kneel.
Amen.
immersed,
alive to God
this gift by Him,
eternal life:
to trust&
walk in the Spirit
free
from the law
of death and sin:
sanctified
at liberty
within
the riches
of His grace:
working through love
a promise
of life
at peace
saved
and raised:
to sit
together
in a heavenly place:
with every spiritual blessing
then
to
fall asleep
in Him
the Christ
this truth in this poem inspired by scriptures in the letters of Paul to Romans/Corinth/Galatia/Phillipi/Ephesus/ and Timothy