Rip Death Poems | Examples
These Rip Death poems are examples of Death poems about Rip. These are the best examples of Death Rip poems written by international poets.
The butterfly, its crimson mottled wings
flitting in the delicate Autumn breeze;
uncurled proboscis taking sweet nectar
from early dawns, newly opened daisies
does not regard the corpses of the men
whose dead eyes ever stare the grass below
fresh attention-seeking meadow flowers.
Men's bodies yet unclaimed, save for ravens
who do outpace the sunshine-seeking flies
and vacillating mothers, sisters, wives
to take an early feast of tongues and eyes.
They watched from high upon a sunlit hill
the eve before, gold sun on flashing blade,
the yet unhacked brawny sinuous limbs
rip through the waves of verdant sweeping green.
And all but them were silent for a while
the wind had stopped, the cawing of the crows,
the crickets chirp, the children's playful laugh,
until the clash of steel on steel on flesh.
The butterfly, its crimson mottled wings
lifted by the delicate Autumn breeze
is taken to a meadow fresh and new.
Categories:
beauty, death, life, violence,
Farewell! Farewell!
It’s time for my closing verse.
How long the years
that bless and unkindly curse,
till in a black wagon
our sorry a-rse draggin’
we get to flat ride in a hearse
Goodbye! Goodbye!
Father, we buried you today
in a wicker casket
wherein bones of Mother lay.
Laid to rest upon her
as the guest of honour
together once more to stay
1921 ~ 2014.
Written: October 2014
Alas for most of us the one time we
get to ride in a big chauffeur driven
limo is the day you’re DOA! RIP dad.
Categories:
death, father, goodbye,
I've always watched you soar,
It was the landing that caught my attention.
Knowing that the sky has always seduced your spirit
in search of its border,
it saddened me
to see you perched on the limb of transcendental ascendance.
The Breeze of Time
will not allow you to occupy the sky.
But beauty
is Infinity never in need to build that nest...
RIP Mom
Sickness couldn't keep you caged, Lady!
Categories:
death, metaphor,
"While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house: [19] And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. [20] Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped, [21] And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."
~Job 1:18-21 KJV
hands clutch hair and pull to mask the sorrows,
to feel the pain, the hurt, one understands
knowing they are gone in all tomorrows
death is far, yea, far from these mortal hands
And so, to show how wide the sorrow spans
rip, or cut, yea, shave what sets us apart
symbolic of a bruised and broken heart
golden locks or black, once all cut away
identity lost, the same now we art
symbol of grief connects past with today.
Categories:
bible, death, hair,
It might be an absurd idea
But we need to move on from here
Stalled in the darkness
With no moral compass
To guide us into the clear
It might be a ridiculous notion
But we can’t just float on this ocean
For the Scylla and Charybdis
With no light of forgiveness
To warn against the tide of commotion
Allow me to propose a thought
That each one do as one ought
Lest the sea level rises
With its schools of surprises
To infinitely rip us apart
If we sail forbidden seas
And land on barbarous coasts,
Who will avail us
When the great wave recedes
And we’re marooned on an island of ghosts?
Categories:
america, angst, conflict, death,
I wake up in a room full of mirrors,
a funhouse of distortion
where reality is blurred.
I gasp, for in one of the mirrors,
I see a young version of me—
rocking and singing a lullaby
to my newborn baby girl,
with a full head of dark hair.
By my side, a little boy with blue eyes and blond hair—
a million-dollar family.
Sighing contently, I hold them close to me.
A muffled sound—sobbing—is heard in the distance,
the sound alarmingly familiar.
The mother sobs uncontrollably,
her graying hair and lines on her face
reveal a much older version of myself,
clutching to her heart
a picture of a beautiful, brown-eyed girl with dimples.
In the mirror, she reads: RIP.
The mirror doesn’t lie.
Categories:
baby, daughter, death, Lullaby,
Leaden clouds sweep swiftly in from the north,
Blanketing the sapphire skies in melancholy.
Deafening, rolling thunder cracks
As a mysterious chill sends a shudder up my spine.
A faint knock rasps at my front door;
Whispers circulate, ringing through my walls,
Echoing my name ever so sinisterly.
For twenty and twenty years, I have been happily discontent,
Freezing my sins in lovely seclusion.
Now, a dank darkness drapes this dilapidated sanctuary.
Peering out the curtains, I see death's arrival—
Ruby red roses in my formerly lush garden
Crumbling to ash, fading into the earth.
Elongated fingers peek through the dubious haze.
A cackling booms.
To my right stands an ornate Victorian mirror.
Turning my head, I can see the flames of Hell rage.
What was once just a plane of glass
Has now become a beckoning portal.
Without hesitation, I rip it off the wall,
Smashing the omen, trying to escape an unfathomable fate.
Within seconds, it's fully reconstructed,
Signaling there is no reprieve.
Categories:
death, dark, gothic, imagery, mirror,
I usually sit down with my tea,
And Dora not so far from me,
Her slava drooling from her jaw,
On command she'll raise her paw,
On occasion food will drop,
Dora the hoover cleans up the slop,
She eats for fun she's never full,
One big stomach she's like a bull,
And one big drawback it isn't smart,
She let's one slip a smelly fart,
Such a stench she'll clear the room,
You dare to stay then that's your doom,
For such a size She has some strength,
Match a pitbull without its length,
A favourite pass time the great outdoors,
She'd plan her route her choice not yours,
Toilet done She wants her prize,
In your pocket and its bite size,
And when the day is at its end,
I cuddle up with my best Friend,
She keeps me warm all through the night,
Then let's one rip so unpolite,
Now that's all gone she's here no more,
A grieving pain in my inner core,
Again I look back to the past,
My future once more overcast,
I did what's right I know I did,
The cancer gone and we got rid,
Cost Dora's life it was the deal,
It will take months for me to heal.
Categories:
best friend, death, dog,
Crawling upon desecrated ashes,
whispers haunt ~
“You will never make it.”
Vermilion skies rumble over the brutal horizon,
splitting open as a deafening rain pours forth,
drenching an already collapsing body.
Splaying nails rip into hollow earth.
Eerie silhouettes dance in the lightning flashes.
It’s getting harder to see now —
fear surging, lungs straining,
losing control.
Darkness engulfs, swallowing the sun.
Panic sets in; urgency is now a must,
for night brings what cannot be spoken.
Cortisol spikes, muscles spasm.
Faster, he must crawl ~
death is imminent if he cannot find the door.
Feeling blindly through infectious petrichor,
his palms meet nothing but cold decay.
Macabre laughter circles around him.
Praying, he reaches out one more time —
unsuccessfully.
Closing his eyes, red-hot pain
flows over his flesh,
devoured by the very demons
he could not escape.
Categories:
dark, death, gothic, imagery,
Hold on to loose ends
As the tides rip and pull
In just an instant
Out beyond our control
Without ground
Without a shore
Without care
For something more
Releasing burdens
In just one final breath
We are delivered
In the Clear Light of death
In and out we ride
The Great Breath of Brahma
Eternal Dance Of Shiva
In endless cycles of drama
As waves of time lap
These shores with persistence
All our castles dissolve
With no hope of resistance
(2/19/25)
Categories:
death, life, spiritual, time,
fruit
we sway in the wind
but i grasp the air
in hopes it can sweep me from this branch
this branch-
preserving the purity of my skin-
is forced to let me fall
i rip from the loosening grip of my cluster
a wound on my side-
evidence of a new chance-
gifted by violent departure
i feel the air on my palms
i smash into the ground
mud covers my face.
i gaze up to the branch-
my past shimmers in the glaring sun.
a blue bird flies overhead
her beauty exerts itself effortlessly over my grime.
she parades her freedom
as the mud hardens under the kiln of the sun
i signal to the bird.
recognizing my flare, she glides to my side
and picks me apart
as i lay here-
opened up to this beast-
i listen to her speak
her tongue mumbles a foreign language
one that doesnt wish things away
a language learned from experiences
observed in her fulfilled juvenility
when all that is left
is the muddy skin on my back,
i sink into the earth
decaying for more time than i ever spent on a branch
why would i ever
excuse myself from youth to preserve my expiration?
i forfeit my experience then,
to gain a lonely breath here
Categories:
12th grade, childhood, death,
a cynosure of all eyes
carrying danger
like a backpack
seasoned acrobat
thrilling all and sundry
with go-big-or-go-home feats on the trapeze.
he's done this countless times.
a life lived on the edge
flirting with disaster
each moment could be his last
the audience
on tenterhooks
watching him fly through the air
he's done this countless times.
all was copacetic just minutes ago.
amid all the rip-roaring...T H U D!
seasoned acrobat lies dead on the ground.
everything stops; a hush
suddenly falls over the circus.
it's stunningly unexpected...
but he's done this countless times!
he never saw it coming,
no one did
d e a t h
in an instant.
Categories:
dark, death, fun, horror,
A line of waves
begin their run to shore,
lifting, rising up and flaring
cobra like as if preparing
to strike, gliding forward
until the shallows down them
and they fall, deflating
to a withering crawl
up the incline of a beach,
beaten into tiny bubbles
that burst harmless at my feet.
I am safe here
beyond the lethal reach
of waves and water where,
just a short wade away,
a rip churns ready to drag
an unsuspecting soul
out to sea and far from sight,
slow thrashing limbs and time
to a still and thicken
living breath into brine.
The image troubles me
and sends my thoughts
a thousand miles
and a lifetime away
to when my uncle drowned
trying to rescue a child
swept out in a rip. He clings
to memory, the young brother
of my Mum, though I was
only eight years old.
He was twenty one.
Categories:
death, family, in memoriam,
“Our time in this world is limited. We all have to die.
But man, who is fragile wishes- it is not now but later” ~ By Poet
Death’s thunderous call I hear.
See death’s messenger at my door.
With icy grip, he is coming to prey.
Am I nearing my journey’s end?
I don’t want to go with all my dreams snuffed.
I am a flower, still blooming.
Please don’t rip my roots,
While still searching for light.
Let me dwell with my loved ones.
Now, please don’t keep death’s door ajar!
Categories:
angst, death, desire,
Not done yet
Jason Doig joined the South Australia Police as a cadet in 1989
Commencing his service as team orientated officer so inclined
Between 1995 to 1998 he served as a Naval Reserve diver too
Giving his time and skill for Australia freely as his duty to do
But he was not done yet
He served the Luncindale Community for twelve years
An ideal country police officer and quintessential bloke without peer
As the bedrock of his Community he was always there
His creed was kind, caring, generous and unique to care
But he was not done yet
Jason was adventurous by habit in all he’d do
He lived his life by his creed all the way through
Taken by an assailant and his duty met
It was clear in this time that he was not done yet….
© Paul Warren Poetry
For Brevet Sergeant Jason Doig South Australia Police killed by assailant’s bullet on 17 November 2023 at Lucindale, South Australia . RIP your duty done.
Categories:
death, remember,