Long Decease Poems
Long Decease Poems. Below are the most popular long Decease by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Decease poems by poem length and keyword.
Trying to find
The happiness of
Trying to find
The way
They kept him on life support
I sat outside and would not move
He had suffered greatly from his heart attack
I tried to pray but I had no connection
I had an old original native drum
Could I have found a connection
To where he went
When he left his soul
It must have been that decease that almost
Wiped us out
Without you I'd be in disbelief
The answer on the face where the diamond shined
Now there is suffering in our hearts
I see the retreat the escape from this dreary city
Standing naked in the breeze
Does it mean the freedom of a dream
She behaves that way in an unreal life
Part of a force we do not see
Defending goodness
Is that the force
What has living Morphed into
A day pass from prison
For the murder of Glory
Help me believe a spirit to be true
Help me see what a miracle is supposed to be
Of spirit, of drug and a mistake or two
Along the way
Do not make love in me die
Humans exist because of love
It is from the Above
It is love from him and her
I need it to feel a real human
Never make love in me perish
For it nurtures my heart
Only true love begets affection
Fertilises both body and soul
Killing it destroys my emotion
Avoid causing love in me decease
Because real adoration does not lie
Lies are natural love exterminators
Accurate love also agonises lies
Love is a human’s pure virtue
Shun making love in me dry out
For fondness is man’s great tribute
That makes him stronger
For he wants to eschew lies
And so nurture eternal love
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
This wreath is in your eidetic memory, yet you should live.
Can you receive my lament, which is almost to happen?
There is no garland as I plummet, rattled by the sieve.
Died with you, can't revive, as you lie on plush and satin.
Earth collapses beneath its weight—why was it to be that way?
The words reflect that living beings are welcome today.
To read the stones, the lost will return home shortly to stay.
The shade of gloom fosters a dark and virtuous decease.
Stashed spaceship shrines to scold scintillating stars in peace.
Among the outworn headstones, the moss knows the lease.
There's a hushed quiescence here; no birds to chirp up or hive.
The wind moans, the agony is veiled, and the heart blackens.
Trusting that I would rest here, bereft of any rich ray.
Leaving behind all my acrid-gained assets through a name cease.
Written: February 25, 2023
This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD
Rice paper dreams, lanterns and beamers of peace
lighting the way to my heart you are in far remote
Intricate cutout beauty, please do not decease
for I need you to guide me with radiant denote
Lantern of love illuminate me with soulful grace
far deeper is your symbol than mere luck of age
Ramadan rose * Easter lily * Passover Iris- lace
some days I am sinner, some days I am sage
Star lantern of my heart help me keep my vow
to a dormant holiday that often seems demure
Oh spirit of the season, guide me to your Tao
and Universal truth, please do not obscure
the lanterns of my soul, as I celebrate in-grit
and return to love, with altruistic composite.
Written: September 05, 2023
World War 3 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
______________________________________________________________
In the midst of all this confusion and despair.
The planet was engulfed in the Third World War.
A state of null and pond darkness, are we aware?
Yet we failed to treat all life as precious as our core.
A political doomsday fanatic, blinded by greed,
Mislead us astray where moral behaviors recede.
Beyond boundless criminal eructation, sans mirth,
We dug our graves, blind to our fate on Earth.
We harmed our parents as we were still embryonic,
Idle drilling and causing harm to others is a tonic.
We designed a huge grave site for all humanity,
Unable to snuggle down, reject the planet's vanity.
Red apples were stolen from bordering trees,
Invading lands in search of fresh wealth at ease.
Armageddon was foretold due to perils of the world,
A diabolical design for war and starvation to unfold.
Beheading, flaming, and jailing are all options,
Several religious groups fall prey to concoctions.
Gazing into the abyss of doom makes me squirm,
WWIII aims to leave us defenseless as mere worms.
People's heyday was once an era of full happiness,
Has now come to a cease, leaving us with sadness.
Nevertheless, we left our stamp on the planet,
Robots prevailed, and we lost mastery of the gamut.
Peace has been switched to turmoil and cease,
Man's fall, eulogy for the earth, grief for decease.
Power and terror divert us from the clear warning,
Now we can grasp the impact of our power warming.
Our major fears follow our pride and greed,
As we reap what we sow, we can't tout earthly deeds.
As computers rule, people watch with sadness,
We depend on cables and devices akin to madness.
Tragic tale of man's collapse and failure,
Let it serve as an alarm to modify our behavior.
The earth is a gift that we can nurture and not drop,
With WWIII, we learn from our flaws and renew hope.
~...A mutilated body comes down the hall victim of a crime. Someone pushing the gurnee down under the florescent lights erratically flickering beams. Exiting off the elevator wheeling downward still. Sheet covered body of a corpse yet still, not moving. White tiles white walls and floors.. Pinching squeaking wheels sounding off rounding down the linen covered body.. Two attendants preform a lift picking up the body placing it on the autopsy table.. Mortician weights and measures said body.. Body is said to be tagged a "Jane Doe".. The decease no one knows. From the crime scene to the mortuary no one knows her she's traveled and died alone. Even the technicians shed a tear they do "cry".~
just a pound of flesh
the dead woman named "Jane Doe"
the one no one knows?
5/1/19
For Pick A Title, Vol.4- Haibun Poetry Contest
Haibun poetry form only
Sponsored by;Edward Ibeh
I've had a lot of friends in life, so many have come and gone
But there's still a lot of them that keep on living on
So many that I've come to know believe in what they hear
There's so much lying going 'round, oh lord, that's what I fear
Who really knows who's wrong or right, perhaps it's me or you
The politicians have us all in rage, who knows what's false or true
But let us not forget what's right, though many things seem wrong
I think that we all know by now where illegals all belong
Though illegals are a thing, and should be addressed to there's no doubt
There are other things that should be addressed and firstly figure out
For instance, how about the people fighting for their lives
Like children, siblings, sisters, brothers and husbands widowed wives
They struggle to survive, they struggle just to breathe
Just because of who they are or what they do believe
Not only in your country, because you're not the only ones to please
There're also all the good-hearted people that live across the seas
We are we and they are they and before we're all decease
I pray that soon we can come together and live our lives in peace
I had not woken from sleep.
Feeling weightlessness I peeked,
observing my body laid decease.
Slowly arisen to uncalmly peace,
realizing that I had passed in sleep.
Abnormal emotions so confused.
A nightmare I wished true.
I went to bed with just the flu.
awaken briskly surrounded,
by a warm aurora train like vessel,
hovered beyond me.
with an anointing ticket calling my name,
speaking softly a compelling phrase.
Telling me, don't be afraid,
welcome aboard Elysium Lane.
A Sheppard without sound, the ticket,
spontaneous guiding my mind,
telepathically answers my thoughts.
Had I known, I would have prepared.
For this departure I wish to be spared.
Thinking for heaven’s sake,
someone had made a mistake.
Soon to be sixteen, I am too young,
so many goals left undone.
too soon, my life flashes in review.
Mom, dad and siblings what to do?
Soon forced to accept unwelcome news.
The strain to them for boarding this train.
Joy not for sad skies to be gained.
Oh God the pain!
Who's to blame for such a mistake?
It's not my time, let me escape.
I'm not ready; they are not prepared.
Unscheduled departures never seem fair.
Leaving without a goodbye.
Is an incomplete sentence so unclear.
To question who, what and why,
I was scheduled at this time.
No reasons can be given, nor to explain,
the guided ticket to ease the pain.
It may seem unscheduled and a skewed,
But this departure is on time for you!
There is nothing to argue, no one to blame,
You are on the manifest to board this train,
to leave, so aboard please!
As I crossed the threshold on to the train.
A calm resonates into Godly hood I became,
at once relieved from all pain.
The lighter I feel the ease to go gets brighter.
My awareness flares so bright and clear,
as if blind, and now seeing for the first time.
I'm okay, Its okay,
I have reached divine!
Wish to view my parents knowing,
that I am fine and now I see.
What seemed to be unscheduled,
was meant to be!
Existence is jam-packed with such deadly traps,
You would wonder why its Author made it so;
You never are sure and ever live on borrowed time
For its turns may any time deal you a terminal blow.
You breathe when you find you can,
And will not be there to raise a query
Regarding your untimely and unfair decease,
When short it’s cut your mortal merry.
You suffer and cry when you have a tear,
And still get more of the dreaded stuff;
You make new resolves but your will is weak
And so you forget them all in a huff.
You know the way you should go
But your legs are light and easy to tempt,
So you end up taking the wrong course
And end up ruing the resolutions unkept.
If a believer, you increase your bootless prayers
And hope that someone up there will hear your cry,
But find your very woes increasing day after day
Till you accept your immutable plight and cease to try.
Whether blind rich or church-mouse poor, every man has his woes;
The poor man is ever crying over all the possible opportunities lost,
The young will always have to contend unfulfilled infatuations,
And the millionaire will ever bawl over a business deal unclosed.
So rather than file on through the shortened pages of time,
Men should spurn all the care and feel happy throughout;
In plenty and in dearth, in love and in hate –
For why invest in care and still have to doubt?
(An old friend, married 44 years, passed - and I could only think of her and her husband.)
We knew one day this would happen
that one of us would decease.
As I am forever selfish,
I hoped it would be me.
When the end was very near,
I whispered in her ear,
“Stay close by the river Styx my dear,
for I’ll be following on very soon,
our souls may not look like our bodies
but I’m certain I’ll know you,
I cherished every breath you took
even as older we both grew,
sharing every mortal struggle,
and every lover’s sigh,
I always wanted to look my very best
when I looked into your eyes.
So, stay close by the river Styx my dear,
I’ll be following very soon
I could endure bitter hell itself
as long as I’m with you.”
.
.
A song for this:
I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face by James Taylor