Long Death sad Poems
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I felt a lump when I was with my wife one terrible night.
She lost her battle even though she put up a good fight.
I tried to think positively, I thought she would be fine.
But after having tests done, the lump wasn't benign.
After two years of battling breast cancer, she was gone.
I lost the love of my life, how can I possibly go on?
I was by her side until she took her final breath.
I've been living in misery ever since she left.
Every day I cry and mourn as I sit by her grave.
Even with modern technology, she couldn't be saved.
If we had found the lump sooner, she may have had a chance.
It's very hard to eat and sleep, without her, my life cannot advance.
I would give anything if the doctors could've saved her life.
My baby is gone and I lost my best friend as well as my wife.
(Even though this is a fictional poem, breast cancer is a serious threat to women. Women should have themselves checked.)
Fancy jets and drones are flying
Bombs are falling and raining
Killing innocent civilians
Burning and destroying homes
Hotels, churches and tombs
People are starving and suffering
While dictators and cheaters are trying
To join the Martians
Those heartless cretins and imbeciles
Are ordering more bombs, more missiles
More bazookas and deadly weapons
Which can kill more hungry and sick children
This is a world of cowards
A world of liars, backstabbers and bastards
Too many hypocrites are roaming
The filthy streets and swimming
In the toxic rivers. People want to live
In a healthy and peaceful haven
Nobody wants to depart, to leave
Earth, yet they want to go to heaven
They're afraid to deal with the torment
Even church is no longer safe and sacred
There is too much bigotry, hate and hatred
Too many criminals are under the tent
There is no hope; this is eerily odious and sad
Things are not right, things are very bad
The criminals are out of control
And the judicial system is patrolled
By corrupt, spooky and crooked politicians
Too many innocent citizens
Are falsely and wrongly put in jail
This is awful, this is hell
Bombs are falling and exploding
Children are wailing and dying
Babies are starving and expiring
And parents are crying and resigning
This is a world of nerds and cowards
A world of liars and bastards.
Copyright © September 10,2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Hebert Logerie Tuesday, September 20, 2016
In the valley of death, dry bones gather dust
Scattering memories of the bereft
Carrying them away with the wind's gust
Blowing sorrow into tears
Of sadness, which is too much to bear,
Feelings of despair are all that's left
As silver glinted dreams turn to rust
A sea of sadness in its dismal plight
Flows through the painful emptiness of the heart
Until the coming of the starless night;
In the darkness, they slumber still
Yielding to eternity's will
These two worlds, so far apart
One in the spirit, eternal teardrops, the other's rite
-
8-9-18
Rhyme Time 6 - Verses Of Metaphors Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Early dawn I got the message. I knew - it was going to come. It really came. Fond childhood memories glided by …through my mind. After three hours, I am in the serene garden - he loved gardening. it’s still a sun-drenched morning, mellifluous birds are chirping, lush willow leaves are swaying in the breeze. Everything is the same. The day I am gone, same will happen, nothing will change, the world will not stop for a moment. But perhaps the world will stop for a moment in someone’s mind.
born brave, truly kind…
stood for neediest
strong and bold in death
a lighthouse beacon
voice tranquil ocean
refuge for me and many,
life with compassion
birds keep crooning songs,
breeze carries wistful music
sun bright ruby-radiant
hydrangea blossomed
how can he be not here?
HEAL THY SELF O WOUNDED AFRICA
(no to XENOPHOBIA).
Wake up a voice shouted
You slept like a pregnant woman
While the drum beat of my assagil sounds like trumpet
With fear and deep chill I listened
The ghost of mighty black warrior standing in shiver
As I face the Great Zulu warrior lost in fear
I saw him Shaka cry to the members of Mambers the great Gods of Africa
There before him stands the Mighty Nile in disbelief
With the Niger filled with bloods disagrees to stay calm
The Senegal and the Congo revolted with flood
The orange and the Limpopo grumble and cried as the sky shared their pains with continuous rain pour.
O you failed cried d Zambezi as she invades her neighbors with flood
A knock on my door I heard a voice shout
Speak out for Africa
It is I Kwameh Nkrumah speaking
This is a sacrilegious act echoed the Mighty Zik
When the house is not in order the cockroaches becomes violent
Cried out the anguish voice of Awolowo
From afar I saw a running giant coming with the force of a chariot
Then I heard a voice so mighty was it that the visitors chased it with fear
He a mighty figure decorated and protected by glory of stars
Stood there is burning eyes of anger
Cover in the black glasses with general pride
As curious as a questionnaire
I ventured in to the glorious illusionary scene
Standing before my trembling eyes was The General Abacha in his full stature
Like a Ligtening spark the mighty figure bent his head in shame
As I looked to behold who thou art
There before me I saw The Mighty Mandela in tears of betray
Weep no more thou wounded soul
The thunderous voice of King Sailaise shouted
In council with the great Ghaddafi as furious as
Idi Amin
Sankara frowned like a disgraced old man
While the ghost of Seda Sengho felt it lost its victories like Anthonio lost all his titles
In schock I turned as a firmed hand gently parted my hand
It was a mighty spirit with two heads
It is the heads of the great secretaries
Achebe and Giwa
Handing me a pen a paper
Written on it
Heal thyself O Africa before yesterday bleed to death.
"When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares—all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground—" Emily Dickinson
I can't hear the beat of my own heart, it was silenced between the gasps of your last breaths and the touch of time as they stripped you of life. I remember standing there holding your hands as they fell from grip, resting atop your chest. I still see you there, like a shadow on a moonlit wall, distorted darkness that bends in the wind's call. The trees dance in its gossamer breath, much like my mind in its recollection, as their leaves twirl around and then spiral down towards the ground. They are more grounded than I am these days, I seem to get lost in the frame of memories that Autumn always brings forth. I hear you whisper my name in fragmented frames of mind as I bleed August across the folds of life and death.
drops of crimson fall
like autumn leaves upon ground
my heart bleeds the same
July 20, 2019
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019- Melancholy- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
We are the dead that visit you at night,
Can you not feel our sadness and our yearning;
This deathly realm is a dark endless void,
We feel your pain and your deep sorrow weeping.
We are the dead that visit you at night,
Forever we are linked to your earthly presence;
Waiting for that last gasping breath of life,
And then you will join us in the vastness of death.
We are the dead that visit you at night,
All your tears and all your broken dreams we feel;
Life can be so painfully full of sad grieving,
But death sad heart is sweet and velvet with peace.
We are the dead that visit you at night,
Wear your mask of living but we know the truth;
Oh yes, we can see the scars in your soul,
Cut deep and bleeding red among the dead that dwell.
We are the dead that visit you at night,
Waiting and never leaving you until that last breath;
You know us all by each beloved name,
And when your hand we grasp do not resist sad heart.
___________________
November 11, 2015
Poetry/Verse/We Are The Dead
Copyright Protected, ID 15-725-528-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, 100 In A Row - 3
Sponsor, PD
Third Place
___________________________
For the contest, Dark Poetry,
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron
First Place
I want no further thoughts of woods each day.
I hold all found and lost on one same eve.
The pangs of loss in memories replay.
From morn to night my heart does steady grieve.
As velvet satin she did clothe my soul.
Each spark in our embrace held love’s best ache.
That she did lay in leaves with me was scroll
My yearning heart had inked for loving’s sake.
In leaves we wove as two inside one dream.
Our passion rose beyond all we had guessed.
The bear I did not see before her scream.
I fought but dead in leaves she lay undressed.
Always red leaves amass around that bear;
Awake or not that view is my despair.
The joy of soaring
being one with the clouds
floating in and out
between the blue and white
closer to something
that is indescribable
unless you experience it for yourself
that day the air show had all
the elements of a dream come true
we flew by so fast
and yet
thousands saw and were in awe
happy faces of children and adults alike
so we headed home
we took to flight again
everybody excited
doing what we love to do...
No one saw it coming
a whole lot of miasma
visibility almost none
two planes no longer in the air
lost communication
the search is on -
a day goes by, no word
tragic reality becomes apparent
both planes went down -
A final salute at our memorial
the missing man formation
our final symbolic flight
with our loved ones looking on...
*Check about this poem section
to see what inspired this write*
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There's an old ashtray in the middle of the room,
half filled with ashes and half filled with gloom.
A reminder of things burning away,
like a mind filled with memories, too many to stay.
It's sitting next to an old photo book,
frozen inside are the smiles that were took.
Pictures of Summer's youth and naive trust,
now sitting still and covered in dust.
There's a chair left empty, the other one used,
by an old man with a heart, lonely and bruised.
There's a church down the street, with a graveyard out back.
A stone with two names, together forever, Rita and Jack.
Now Rita lies waiting for her life's mate,
while Jack sits alone til they carve in his date.
3/20/20