Headstone Poems - Poems about Headstone

Life may be hullabaloo now, Perhaps apoplectic, Conceivably cuckoo, Or it feels like the World is ending, Apocalyptic, But maybe— Just maybe, Someday I'll be me, Happy and free, Like a ballerina In a tedious tutu. In the end, All I want— Just one thing— Just one— Inscribed on My headstone “ I have loved, I have lived” ...

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The trails of fog like cold entrails that wind and slither through the copse which shiver at the touch and sops. A chance at vision clearly fails. Each jutting rock: a sentinel. A greying headstone stands alone against the tones of verdant cone. My heartbeat sounds like a death knell. A silver coffin bell from ditch. As I am trying t’ place the hums; direction...

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Now I fly ! May my gifts spread across our blue-green Globe as I return to Sky may my smile ripple in open hearts as I dance on an orange horizon may my healings remain remembered balms and my presence a white feather in your cocked hat May my meals remain flavourful tastes on your tongue and my touch...

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IN MEMORY OF CENTURION GAIUS LUCIUS MANIUS PRIMUS PILUS FIRST COHORT LEGIO VI VICTRIX HE SPENT HIS PENSION IN CISALPINE GAUL WHERE HE RAN AN HONEST BROTHEL HIS FUNERAL WAS GRACED BY A MURDER OF CROWS AND GRIEVIOUS LAMENTATIONS IN THE NAME OF FAIR ISHTAR DAUGHTER OF SIN AND SHAMASH...

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At the End of the Yellow Brick Road David J Walker to say I knew him well is a Deep slice of life as we knew it as we shared it as we wanted to believe it never needing to ask which of us conceived it o hallowed ground no longer than a shallow memory the shadow of everyone’s alternate reality I write prayers...

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Paternal grandmother's headstone - Beth David, Elmont, Long Island Shaindel (Sadie), variant of Shana Harris died May 13th, 1959 exquisitely chiseled alphanumeric characters legibly engraved sepulchral casket entombing lovely bones deoxyribonucleic acid repurposed into me Matthew Scott Harris patronymic protector, when I die taking family surname to netherland who unwittingly named his youngest daughter after his recently deceased father's mother. Mortality encompasses subsequent cremation never mind...

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I did not run out of time, time ran out of me. 4/26/2021...

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Crisp grasses reflect ghost-white; Ethereal shafts of moonlight. Tenebrous shifting shadows; Declivity of dolerite rows. A lonely spirit roams freely — A fresh headstone in the lee. POET'S NOTE When written in English, sijo may be written in six lines, with each line containing two syllable groupings instead of four. This arrangement was exploited by the modern sijo poet, Kim Unsong,...

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Mossy vines camouflage decaying headstone Thus hidden and fallen into disrepair Foliage ever swallow so it cowers Deeply weatherworn lettering embraced there Threads of piercing light filtering through windblown Limbs surrounded by trees, ferns, and wildflowers Strewn mounds of decomposed fallen trees below Cool nature's spirit aspirating showers 9/28/2020 Writing Challenge - Decay - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France...

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Will She Shed Tears On My Headstone When my ghost and I fade away into earth's breast that final day shall I rest in paradise hills or as a fish among the rills lay beneath blue of foaming seas leaving these olden bones in me? When this earthen spirit takes flight flying from worry and world's blight can looking back it then realize life and...

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grave request from "the ur poems" by Michael R. Burch come to ur doom in Tombstone; the stars stark and chill over Boot Hill care nothing for ur desire; still, imagine they wish u no ill, that u burn with the same antique fire; for there’s nothing to life but the thrill of living until u expire; so come, spend ur last hardearned bill on Tombstone. NOTE: The “in Tombstone”...

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The 5G Headstone {An extension of our personal, technological,isolated generation)                            ~~~~ For those to be buried in the earth.... Of this creation, I sing a mournful dirth. I almost feel like a wolf, howling at the winter moon. For we no longer will talk on phones: We....such human goons! Therefore a cement...

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He died that night In a cheap motel In Maryville Tennessee $35.00 karma mixed with The smell of curry Coming from the front office No one would ever understand Why he chose to die there Especially those few Who claimed to know him well The gravel parking lot The towels you could see through And the lawn chairs inside For furniture Made the connection and the Endless search real In...

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No headstone please Sprinkle me among the flowers But not the roses, I'm mad at them Written July 17, 2018 Entered Kevin Shaw's Life or Death Epigram Contest...

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Did you wear your life out; did you use it all up —what are you saving it for We’re all running headlong toward a hole in the ground —that the past and future insure Are you stuck on tomorrow lost in wishes of things —hoping there’s still more to come Will...

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