Rockstar girl I hardly remember, like Green Day I tried to wake you up after September, come to find out you're deceased put my skill in a blender.
We shared some of the highest peaks, I brought the xanz you brought the coke, no holding hands just drugs that we'd smoke.
You'd tell me I'm your dream man like you Ally and I'm Juice...
baby I'm the "XanMan" dont get confused.
me and the grim reaper must have a truce, how did you die when my neck was the one in the noose?
I guess it makes sense with all the drugs we'd abuse. God seems to take the good ones I swear bro pick and choose...
like the ones with the best hearts always the first to lose
Rockstar girl I hardly remember I tried to wake you up at the end of September but the pills take they ain't no lender, guess them pills fake, now you gone forever...
Some Chihuahua dogs are hateful but you weren't hateful in the least.
You were a very special dog and it's painful because you're deceased.
Just one month ago today, you were still alive.
It's sad and heartbreaking because you didn't survive.
I didn't realize that you were sick until it was too late.
I lost a terrific dog and it's something I'll always hate.
I was hoping you'd survive long enough for me to take you to a vet.
But the animal hospitals were closed and it's something that I regret.
You were wonderful and it was painful to watch you die.
When a man loses a great dog, it's hard to say goodbye.
Your life came to an end in the evening on the ninth of December.
You were my Sweetie Pie and you're a pet who I'll always remember.
(Dedicated to Hazel who passed away on December 9, 2023)
You are now dead, but
still in my head.
What should I do?
You kind of reflect in my eyes
when I close my lids.
The deceased can't talk, but you do in my ears.
What's happening? It's so weird.
My throat gets dry when I swear
I will let throw you out from my brain.
My veins throb when I say, 'I don't want you.'
Is this a video game or someone playing a prank?
Am I brave that I still battle with a soul?
Or will I find peace, or will it shatter me into pieces?
The false apparatuses are presented on the tiny stage,
The surgeons want to shape up your archaic days.
The larger your poisons are,
The more lethal is their care.
You only care for the austere suggestions,
I want to undergo your sweeping portions.
I want to shake your hand in between infinity,
You want to pull me through this lumbering calamity.
I am another deceased man in this war,
Can you recall the black October?
There is so much rapture in the grave,
You only yearn to be brave.
You are now in a favoured hell,
I want to conjure you back and well.
I want to bring back my old salvation,
Where you were the most cataclysmic passion.
I beg you to wait for me in the uninhabited cave,
I will converge with you soon where you are already paved.
You are situated in your befitting place,
There is awaiting you the perpetual grace.
He was my dad but his life came to an end.
He died and I would never see him again.
He perished after months of receiving chemotherapy.
He had Leukemia and is buried in Sneedville, Tennessee.
He was a hard worker and he worked hard for many years.
Cancer made him become ill and he died just like I feared.
He died ten years ago today on the 13th of July.
It is always sad and tragic when a parent dies.
[Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died ten years ago today on July 13, 2013]
Dear friend and poetess Connie Wong
wrote poetry as lovely as a song.
Reading others’ poems was her passion.
If words were clothes, she was always in fashion.
Sweet Carolyn Devonshire
was a poetess many could admire.
So generous was she
and also a good friend to me!
Sir David Austin, simply called Daver.
With me, his free verse was always in favor.
He joked that he was very old.
But it’s no joke his poems were gold!
Dec. 8, 2022
for Sotto Poet's Who Is Your Best Ps Poet Or Poetess Poetry Contest
Note: Sadly, I have no clue how I could ever find a picture of dear Daver.
I had to get the picture of Carolyn off the FB page of Constance La France. although I am sure Carolyn showed me a few recent photos before her death about two years ago, right now it's all I have. I will try to track a more recent one down! I decided to do my clerihews on deceased poets since there is no way I could ever narrow down my three "best" from the poets active here today!
What's your relationship to the Deceased
Why I am also dead as well
Someone wrote an essay on me
Well I say essay more like a paragraph
And when I say paragraph I mean sentence
Which in reality was no more than a
?
Actually
this pain inside of me
never seems to cease
what can i do
to prove
i loved you
you meant so much to me
when you were in my arms
i couldn't do no harm
but now I'm alone
thinking bout you at most
I don't know why
as time
goes by
your on my mind
day and night
The moonlit night
cannot compare to your eyes
neither can how the stars in the sky
or even the morning sunrise
made me smile uncontrollably
truly
my lady
you meant everything to me
if only
you felt the same
guess that's heartbreaks
love if given
not always return
just another lesson to learn.
The sky was pink, just as my dream giant had predicted last year.
I sat and stared at my lavender fields, feeling quite clear.
The prophecy stated that I would hear from my recently dead.
I took a quick swig of beer; it went to my head.
Did other people communicate with a giant in their dreams?
Was he closer today? My life felt like it was split at the seams.
Could my loved one come walking across the field and give me a hug?
I looked toward the horizon and saw the flicker of a lightning bug.
Suddenly a round blast of light came through the pink haze of twilight.
A giant’s flashlight; he was showing me his clear intent and might.
I expected to see my deceased loved one walking toward me.
I could suddenly smell the lavender and it filled me with glee.
Happy birthday to you
You make up what is new
You are sorry you're born
when old becomes you
You're not what I'd call
older than me at all
But you're just a spring chicken
that's too hot to call
So remember my line
that your older than time
When you think you're dismembered
and the life you lived rhymes
So forget your old beef
that your dead for a piece
When the lord burns your candle
even when you're deceased
The sleeping sky is cloudy
And creates a veil over the lying minds.
Like a festival, the cemetery is alluded,
And turns to a hunting ground.
Open Graves and pits -
They lived.
Crowd of faces in their shades,
To amaze those preys.
Reefs and sheets they laid
On the unseen skins of the deceased
To commemorate their ways,
In spite of the deaths unperceived.
Decorating - they decorate the undecorated,
Whose lives cannot be consecrated.
The clock ticks, and time's fastened
In memories imprisoned.
Candles that could not light
Their lives any longer,
Cries that won't see them in tight;
Yet, they restitute their hunger.
They, lying there wished to smile,
But are thousand miles -
Though sighed at the benevolent pride,
But embraced their newest mild.
© Prince Tardeh
I found you yesterday
Little raccoon in a ditch
I wondered what I could do for you.
You were stiff, and covered with snow.
If I gently brushed you off, would you return to the land of the living?
My snow brush might be too harsh.
I went through my garage, hoping you would know
I was not planning to leave you there.
By yourself for long.
Upon my return, I felt gratitude from your heaven spot.
Weirdly, I was half expecting your eyes to open
And afraid of a big raccoon hug
But when I started gently brushing you
I knew...
Your body had not been used for months maybe.
I put you gently back into your resting place,
And gave you a little prayer,
And gave myself a little prayer
That in the summer most of the
rest of your fur self would be gone.
I did not want to smell
Another carcass
Remembering the spring
I discovered, Shark, the cat's kill room.
Found the hard way on the first warm day of spring.
You would be added to his collection if he found you
Little Raccon, so go back to heaven.
Worry not about this deteriorating body.
You are okay now.
Probably better than ever actually.
A Deceased Dream
I wanted to bury a dream of mine
It had lived in my mind for a very long time
The dream seemed real,
At least to me
It held my hopes, the joys that I thought would be
I mourned for it, this dream of mine
I thought of it all of the time
But who would come to the service?
I had to think,
It came to me as quick as a blink
Why his four brothers, I had no doubt
I’d met them all over the years
Mr. Regret, accompanied by Self-Pity, Depression and Anger
The only problem was, once there
They didn’t want to leave
I had another thought that I liked better
I’d breath my dream in a bright yellow balloon
Then knot the bottom
And let it go
Perhaps my dream would come true
For whoever found my yellow balloon
BJ Cuber
when are metaphors
not applicable as proof
that they're existent
when a person dies
but remains here quite alive
mute indifference
Do not talk badly about deceased,
Let them rests in the well-deserved peace.
Smudge a people, if urge for such drive,
While all bastards are here, alive.
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