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.
(written upon the death at age 14 of our beloved shih tsu Max
on Aug. 11.)
Over ~
Over
The Bridge
where they go
To verdant eternal forests
and fields,
To run and leap free
Without leashes, reigns or chains…
All heaven blessed
With no hunger or thirst
While waiting for us.
The Smallest Life
The smallest life
A life no less
A beating heart and will to live
The smallest voice
Can not call out
Cannot be heard above the crowd
The smallest hand
A final plea
A longing for simplicity
The smallest pain
A pain no less
A feeling of unwelcomeness
The smallest heart
A heart stood still
Falls silent in the evening chill
The smallest love
A love unwon
Now floats toward the setting sun
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
Skinny in youth thick in later days
Champion for truth despite delays
As a late bloomer in thought process
Born to a baby boomer and so blessed
Believed in God but didn’t get much church
Felt so odd how the church clicks work
Rather open to explore other fuchsia faiths
Went to the mosque just couldn’t be great
And with Buddhism she felt all a glow
But she still identified as a Christian so
Perhaps it’s true train up a child
But her training was unique and mild
For she recalled Bootsy’s Rubber Band
And Stevie Nicks, Stevie Wonder on hand
Music was the church in her life
She was a cool nerd never a wife
A poet who sucked at math in her head
But like a mom stretched a penny till it’s dead
Had many jobs, but a mom and proud to be
Not afraid of death for it is purple peace
Donald and Elon
If Trump and Musk
had a baby
What would the baby's name be?
-Obama
WE ALL ARE HERE TO BE IN PEACE AND LIVE FREELY
IN A WORLD THAT ONLY GOD HIMSELF CAN SAVE
WHY DO WE JUDGE AND HATE
IS IT THE COLOR OF SKIN THAT YOU SEE
LOOKING ON THE OUTSIDE BUT NEVER LOOKIN IN ME
IN ME YOU WILL FIND LOVE FOR YOUR KIND AND LOVE FOR MINE
MANY WILL NEVER SEE OR NEVER KNOW WHAT IT COST TO MAKE ME GROW
LIFE AND DEATH IS HELD WITHIN THE TONGUE
SO WHEN YOU SAY HATEFUL WORDS ARE YOU NOT THE ONE THAT IS WRONG
AND NEVER FORGET ABOT THOSE BABIES THAT ARE WATCHING AND SEEING
DONT YOU THINK THAT THEY ARE ANGRY
BEING TREATED UNFAIRLY AND NOT GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE
SOME ARE DYING BY SOMEONE ELSES HAND
OUR SKIN COLOR SHOULD REALLY NOT MATTER
BUT ITS JUST THAT THAT DIVIDE US
LEARN TO LOVE LOVE TO CARE FOR YOUR FELLOW MAN
STAND FOR RIGHT EVEN IF
THE COLOR OF SKIN
Robert Sherriff-Australian - Actor-Model-Poet- Author-Singer- Historian -Photographer
"JFK - My Life
My life and your years on this Earth—flashbacks—everything was in black and white. I remember 1963: John F. Kennedy was killed in Dallas. My teachers cried. Not me. I was in grade three. Superman, Davy Crockett on TV. Walt Disney every Sunday. Now that I’m retired seventy years old, my life has been good. I have six children. Thirteen grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. Everything is in colour now as I sit in my rocking chair. I apologise to those I’ve hurt along the way. I pray for world peace and a bit of sanity.
God loves me.
Amen."
Robert Sherriff 'Australian' Author-Poet-Actor-Model-Singer/songwriter
Robert Sherriff - Starry Night
ROBERT SHERRIFF, poet, singer, actor, - American historian, - photographer
Starry Night spoke to me about this master's work,
His life, his pain, his hurt.
To then cut his ear off, and then the final call,
Like a great actor upon the stage for one last curtain fall.
The man had the world at his feet,
But the world was never big enough for Van Gogh,
Who slipped back into the hands of God,
Leaving behind a legacy, a tale untold.
Three years ago, I saw Van Gogh's paintings,
I just looked and sat, looking at his work,
Esoteric enchantress mellifluously serenades
Abattoir hymn of threnody in this boudoir
Quintessential embodiment of thanatopsis
Quixotic dreamscape’s lachrymose fountain
Melody of scarlet puppetry in a masquerade
Grandiloquent gaiety phantasmagoric vitae
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
We all have those moments. Moments in life when you know things will never be the same for you. For me that moment was seeing Fred's black Pumas on the stairs after he had passed away. The empty shoes gave me a flash back. I saw him standing at the kitchenette counter in his scrubs and the same all-black althetic sneakers preparing my morning coffee and vitamins. His light blue scrubs unable to hide his hulking shoulders and chest , yet loose on his flat stomach. In his stead i'd find a freshly pressed coffee, vitamins and water bottle in a row on the counter. A true care taker of a care taker. At one time, these little acts of service became a welcomed routine. Now... the same shoes sat empty and lonely on the steps toward where we used to live. Which was now just an empty room. Fredy'd never have a chance to Be. A chance to better himself. A chance at Love again , which I know he had a lot of to give. The empty shoes filled my heart with sadness. The thought that his large heart no longer beat in his chest was almost too much for me to bear. Who could ever fill this man's shoes? As a Brother, a Son, Grandson and Caretaker, as a Lover or as a Best Friend.
Zenith swirls of black rose petals,
burst into a flock of circling crows,
descending ash and rain on my frozen form.
Viscera and scarlet pools flash,
feet running of a child,
car screeching tires with broken glass.
Piano motif grave into a tilt,
fingers dancing like butterflies,
levees welting over the brim crimson,
down the side of the dam,
Moon alabaster dust suspended,
upside down pyramid spins ever so swiftly,
I wish to go inside this burgundy sepulcher.
Ferryman take the bribe from the crypt keeper,
under the veil of the cloak in black,
piano crescendos with a cello in orchestra.
Now I float amongst the wraiths,
nevermore.
Golden silence here in crepuscule,
wonder if that sun ray in the distance,
is meant for me,
a telephone ring.
Teardrop a shudder in a large mirror reflecting,
zeal cherry blossoms in its grasp.
Lilith is the queen of darkness,
caution tape blueberries and cherries,
a moth that never emerged from larva.
Skulls pile up at the cemetery,
husk buried separate on the moon,
an ethereal tether to the void.
To live a long life is to die alone.
My daughter veydantika
I can't express my feelings
Because I have never been
Able to see you in this life
You are like a death
I am alive into your memories
How you must be growing
I can't explain in words
Because I always pray to your mother durga kalki that
Your beauty must be not able to describe in poetry A kiss and hug your dad
Aghori mhabharamnad
With love all
Jagdish bajantri
On the drive to work as the sun beams for Me
My mind and core still always reeling
Can't comprehend the depth of feeling
As you helped to ease and fix
A heart that had once all but stopped it's desperate beating
Once a girl standing on a fresh grave
With no words fitting for it's stone
Sitting in offices, trying to act brave
Counting pills in a hand that felt
The death of part of its soul
As it flew away like a wounded bird
Wanting and yearning to be seen and be heard
Broken and useless, Afraid and a burden
Now a woman who's standing in her own grace
A partner by her side , no longer lingering in place
Words flowing deeply from her expanse
Standing in her own scene , eyes gleaming
Thankful her core has a fresh chance to dream
Feeling the light winds of travel
As a new bird that's just hatched
Ready to see what life will unravel