Casket Poems - Poems about Casket

Laying in this casket, buried deep under Dark skies; raging with lightning and thunder There’s no coming back, I’m staying under Time to waste now, just idling my time In my right hand I’m turning my last dime Gone to soon, I’m still in my prime Laying in this casket, buried deep under Dark skies; raging with lightning and thunder There’s no coming...

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I am like faded leaves, beneath my frail feet, failing your forbidden name that crushed the petals of blossoming hopes, dusted with dark obsidian nightmares, enclosed in seeds of discontent, sprinkled by sleeping black dragonflies, resting on fruitless twigs, in vales of solitude. Perhaps nature too feels the pain I’ve been carrying when invisible thorns pierce my fragile heart, to leave me bleeding epitaphs, of dead dreams like an endless...

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One might call it a 'guitar', But, sadly, I have to call it my wooden casket with strings, No offence to the instrument, Its not that bad of one really, It's just something with me, A personal grudge, I have been playing it for more than 3 years now, I am not great at it, HECK I am not even good at it! I...

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THEY RATHER LIFT YOUR CASKET THAN YOUR DREAMS Dreams are made just like beautiful caskets. Dreams can be waylaid, even in reality outskirt. Dreams do come true but death has only one rule: that is, the inevitability of death. With colossal demands, a dreamer rules the earth. Despite your reprimands, your corpse is lifted up only to later undergo a drop. To lift the casket of a...

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(Elizabeth II 1926-2022) Are we - crow, blackbird, sparrow - aware of what's occurring? We cannot tell, they assume, but gape and gaze from up here. This is a land with a departed monarch. We - sparrow, blackbird, crow - flit or sit above the richness of that marching red regalia. Thousands of arms stretch, sinews strain, cameras are held aloft to catch the start of...

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A losing struggle over his life, Cancer to make no mistake Of a blunt knife; Its image takes as The-At-Stake And the ongoing struggle Stark Strife! A death helped by a Hurrying Disease Lewis’ blasphemous anger at his unease: “Then, God does endorse The Sadism Worse than Unholy Nudism”. A bitter quitting of Britain for a discarded village And helpless reoccupation of a...

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The Broken Fountain Pen Disaster Underfoot the dropped was-so-lost pen breaks snapping its midnight ink artery to spurt explosively out like some imprisoned force nearly dead but up again sucking in saving air and spread on dispersing into freedom in a fly across the floor the long streaks of such random black arcs streaking falling ...

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The Poet in His Casket Well, look at you lying there! In your brown suit and gold tie. How I want to hug you now! You can't be dead, you're only forty years old! We lived together till you took a new wife! Her name was alcohol and that ended our happy days and our life. She was the apple of your eye, she took all...

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Silent is she whose sharp mind unraveled; she died. This woman, friendly, loved to gab and laugh. Unsmiling in her casket now. . . her face is strangely beautiful. May 13. 2019 for the 'Charlieku New Form' Poetry contest of charles messina Poetry form description: The poem must be 15 lines long and the syllable count must be 23232,3232,323,23,3 Also, it must be 5 lines, 4...

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The Casket I saw a coffin the church Didn`t see the body The casket was bare No flowers They are wasted on the dead I have no religion For me, death holds no sting It is merely the end of life....

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Come to me, my pretty thing, For killed I was and dead I’ve been. The flowers strewn about my grave I bring to you this lovely day. Draw not back, my little lass. Soon all your fears will leave and pass. Your love I seek to give me life; I’ve come to take you for my wife. The coffin, Dear, is a lonely...

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I raise the lid so slowly, My hand on soft satin; I hear the creaking hinges As moonlight seeps within. My bleary eyes encounter The dank and wooden floor, Time to appease the hunger, Not once but ever more. I turn the ornate doorknob And what a sight I see, A river of flowing forest Down to the endless sea. Village homes a light with candles To push...

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Cute Casket Now Fill Did drive dangerously taking a spill; Died and my cute casket I now fill; In bright sun baking; Then heaven taking; Premium membership never paid bill. Jim Horn...

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The kids need a toy box. So spacious, padded and erect. Embrace the future! The casket in the livingroom With toys to the brim....

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there’s nothing in my head. there’s nothing in my head. why don’t i care about the right things, and leave every word unsaid? i wear rose tinted glasses, carry petals in a basket. looking to buy a tiny house, but settling for a casket. there’s nothing in my head. there’s nothing in my head. my eyes are opened but my mind is dead....

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