Long Final curtain Poems
Long Final curtain Poems. Below are the most popular long Final curtain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Final curtain poems by poem length and keyword.
They say that love is not selfish it is kind
But when it’s not, what awful carnage it leaves behind.
Strange feelings crowd your inner space
Tears find a resting place upon your lovely face.
Some people have no heart to give
So find others some to thieve
And yet it runs out like water though a sieve.
Purge your soul of this painful memory
Avoid the reminders like an allergy
He stole your heart you lost control
The tears your broken heart console
Your heart will find its place
Take each day at its pace
You will emerge from this it’s certain
It is not the end nor final curtain
Like all colours have a hue
And the grass it’s morning dew
You will survive and this is true.
What in tarnation is reincarnation
Could we come back as a piece of toast?
Or do you think that death is just that
The end, it's over, adios?
Some get passionate about the subject
But nobody knows for certain
When we finally take our very last breath
Is it really the final curtain?
Here's my humble opinion on the subject
It's over when the fat lady sings
But I'm open to new ideas on the subject
I wouldn't mind another fling
Guess this old guy is much too realistic
Watching the space shows on TV
Can't believe how infinitesimal we are
As insignificant as a little old flea
So now you know my thoughts on the subject
Hope we can still all be friends
Maybe one day we'll find out the answer
When we finally come to the end
© Jack Ellison 2013
Living death ,hotel for hypochondriacs?
Where there are rarely empty beds
But some bodies may soon be.
Bright curtains are there for all
To screen their shame and pain,
Though the final curtain will surely
On some soon fall..
Blue-jacketed staff breezily
Glide about their tasks
Smoothly and swiftly
Until becalmed by a lull
At the nursing station
Before a maelstrom erupts.
Suddenly a sour smell wrinkles noses
And the team sweeps into action.
Soothing and rancourless,
"You're a terrible man!"we hear them say
As they set about erasing
The evidence of soiled humanity.
Yet we see their neurosis
Over death-defiling bugs
In the continued wiping
Of bed rails and curtains of grime
And then there is peace
In our time.
There will be other flurries,
Punctuating regular routine
But, respite gained,they relax.
A question about the time ,
Is met with,"Ten past s***e!"
Cathartic laughter refreshes
Them for the long ,long night .
Not famous
No celebrity
Name unknown
Unexpected
Word pause
Sudden heart attack cause
No spotlight
Funeral plain and simple
Code of Silence
Inspiration thought
Poet final curtain
Words needing to say
Love for Poetry
Poet lies in coffin
Lived the life of emotion and composing
Beyond the rainbow and aspirations
Words soared where only they can reach
Shed no tears
Poet spirit near
One Candle burns
Soulful finale
Heavens awaken
Tomorrow’s new day
Words depart rise
Intrigued in unseen
Word gesture
True heart
Strength from within
Poet remembered
Living reality
End of a writing session
Encouragement to all in “WRITE ON”
Heaven’s reward
Destined in royalty by a sword of excellence
Living the dream
Pure and secrete like a moving reflecting stream
Identification of assurance
Rise on
Dove fly
Into the horizon
Frontier
Legacy
Remembrance
Soar
When I was young and in my prime,
I knew I’d be famous one day.
Although I hadn’t worked out how,
I was quite sure I’d find a way.
I’d play cricket or football for England
And win the World Cup again.
Then win an Olympic gold medal
And become a household name
Or maybe I’d be an actor,
A star of stage and screen,
With a mantlepiece full of Oscars
And be knighted by the Queen.
But now I’m old and past my prime
And none of those things have occurred.
Outside of my own little circle,
My name has never been heard.
But, when the final curtain falls
And the mourners have drifted away,
I’ll leave the stage with no regrets
At the end of my own little play.
>center>LAST RITES (MIXED)
I’ve been having thoughts, a bit macabre,
About my funeral day.
I’m not getting any younger,
So it might not be far away.
How many folk will turn up
To see my final act?
Will it be just the family,
Or will the place be packed?
Will they say nice things about me,
And will they be sincere?
Have I deserved any compliments
For what I’ve achieved while I’m here?
I’ve told them I want no religion.
I believe that’s all old hat.
I think that, when you pass away,
You die and that is that.
When they close the final curtain;
As they sing the final song.
Could that be the moment
I find out I was wrong?
My Mother just asked me ?
What is my biggest regret ?
It took me a while to think
But then it came to me
I suppose its the fact that i never got to marry
Or that i do not have any children of my own
They say be careful what you wish for
Sorry to be cheesy and quote a well known song
Regrets ive had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did it my way
Just like Saturday follows Friday
We all have to come to terms with facing the final curtain
And regrets will probably be at the top of all our wish list
But won't be the things we will surely miss
The only thing I hope and pray for I will ever miss
Is not my regrets but my family and friends
That stand beside me as i take my final decent
As my time on earth comes to its inevitable end
Live life and regret rather what you did do
Rather than spend your life regretting what you didnt do
The dark comes often.
The dark comes free.
It leaves behind an early morning frost.
I’m a rogue scholar and a rank philosopher,
A rounder playing drunken gypsy songs.
Got a tidy pension and a place to live.
I keep a sexy violinist on the side.
The dark comes heavy.
The dark comes cold.
It chills the empty chambers of my heart.
I take the down slope on the backside.
I’ve always been attracted to the low life.
Might’ve gone to college, might’ve been to school,
But there’s no glass ceiling on the floor.
The dark comes early.
The dark comes deep.
It drains the very color from the world.
I live alone, but I’m in bed with a cruel mistress.
Spiky and hard, she stabs the fabric of my nightmares
Till I scream in ecstasy from the thrill,
Then thank myself for being so evolved.
The dark comes easy.
The dark comes fast.
It drops the final curtain on the day
.
The dark’s in you.
The dark’s in me.
We share the same perversion of the soul.
Tells Tolls Tribute
The veil of shadows is the bright rite of passage
it casts its rainbow when the final curtain falls
Dressed in lost voices and dark sunken eyes
Pythia sheds prophesies
blathered gone gibberish
Bleeding demise’s dry tears in whimsical withering longing she once and for all
exhales combination of Delphi monopoly competing contradictions in contrast
one last breath on the journey to wisdom Nirvana contrasting conviction blast
from the past when she had found her voice and her voices to betide and befall
An ancestor now
once vital exuberance
still shedding meaning
in reverse grave graveness’ grave
she tells tolls tribute for us
30th August 2016
written for contest
Challenge-Write One – Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Syllables checked 'how many syllables. com
death is near-
a fading out tomorrow will never be-
gone away an empty shell will dwell
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
wings soft as a spider web
and the curtains stir in the open window
death
comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
her
hair
streaming down her shoulders
the clock of time stops the end has come
deep blue is the sky beyond this realm
birds and butterflies come fluttering
on gossamer silky wings
and hummingbirds hover in heavenly harmony
blue birds are twittering in the trees
she breathes
a long breath
pauses
and then
the moment of death a heaviness descends
death comes
like a bird of prey
drifting silently
she hangs
her head like a dead flower the mind dies
a peacefulness a light that fills the room her spirit leaving
and on the bedside
a beautiful bouquet of red roses dulcet full of scent
oh her life was fleeting
infused with happiness beauty laughter
the dream has ended the final curtain has dropped
farewell my beauty I kiss her lips her still warm hand
outside a gentle rain has begun
falling on the weeping willow tree
my weeping tears
dropping soaking her blanket
___________________________
June 26, 2015
Free Verse/"death of a friend"
Copyright Protected, ID 684720
Submitted to the contest, Any Poem You Are Proud Of
Sponsor, Mystic Rose
Second Place
I am proud of this poem because I wrote right after the death of my friend,
she died of cancer and I was with her at the end witnessing it through the eyes
of a poet. It is my most viewed poem and I was able to capture the style
of E.E. Cummings perfectly in my opinion.
__________________________
Submitted to the contest, A poem You Are Proud Of #3
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
_____________________________
Submitted to the contest, Death and Dying
sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Second Place