Long Life death Poems
Long Life death Poems. Below are the most popular long Life death by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Life death poems by poem length and keyword.
Let me fly away ….
Let me fly away …
Open up the door now; let me fly away.
I will be in pain more if you let me stay.
You promised me flowers, nightingale delight,
I cannot face darkness; darkness is the night.
My cup is so empty; pour me some more wine,
I cannot live this life; death will be so fine.
In the house of shadows, I can see the sky,
I can see the mountains; I do not know why.
Let me fly away now, I can see the road,
I can see my home there joyously it showed.
I am so so lonely; shadows are my friends,
Stop watching; tell me when this journey ends.
I do have the wings now purple, white, and blue,
I know where you are now; I will follow you.
I will fly away now until morning bright,
I want to be someplace that is never night.
Take me with you “Haloo” pour me some more wine,
I want to be all you if the choice is mine.
8/7/17 Haloo
This is another painting of mine, called Let Me Fly Away. It is acrylic on canvas.
Living things are Dying thieves
When my legs turn cold
Sing only old songs all day
When my eyes deny sight
Hold my right hand and walk with me all night
Take me to places I have less memories with
Take me to places where breathing is a restriction
When kids ask my silence
Answer them that the old man will sleep a little longer,
The legend will open his white dyed eye at the end of the tunnel
The legend died twice, and the third time promises a resurrection
When my beloved ones drop tears
Tell them to unlock and shelf under my bed and grab spears to fight back their fears
They will only fight peace not for peace
They will tear themselves in pieces and never pick the pieces of their strength
Their blood might stink before they see this well
Tell them mine did as well
Their tears will dry even though it does, it will dry again
Their cries will not be loud, will not be loud again
And when my face disappears in humane memories
I will be the shadow along your ways in thy wilderness
I will not only remember you and them
But you with them
I will not miss, jokes and fun
But jokes with snacks
I accept soil deserves my cruelty
I at least fought for other’s liberty in the cell in leave you in
I fought depression which later on won my heart
I fought affection which later on destroyed my hat
Tie my Ph.D. in my chest
As I go for and long enough rest
There are things I might come back for
Images of pyramids that made my force
My mother, a woman in her early thirty’s
I admit I running closer the judgment Queue
Do I really have a clue?
Yet the blue sky veils broad smile of clouds
I loved coffee, but I can’t wait to lie in that coffin
Not this coffin but that coughing
The coughing after you realize
We are nothing but dying living things
Down, down I’m going
Lower, lower it is I’m drowning
This face might float as a boat
As thieves, lucky is the day we are caught is the triumphant
(By John Kazadi)
Feathers gather on the wing
Sore with precision in their flight
An updraft lifts the beady eyed visitor
A hunt begins on hunger pangs of black
Grows from the dawn of times survival
Launched into action with the talent of God
Towers over the enormity of sky
Preys on darkness unencumbered
Leads the falcon on to his devices down
Stretched out on yellow talons sharp
In sight, laser vision pinpoints a target
Stars scream out in covered night
Something glistens on the shadowed ground
A woodland creature squeaks out in pain
All goes quiet at the strike in silence
A victim falls dismembered as a meal
When distracted on the moment of the kill
"Intermission: Ad Infinitum Lux Vitae"
Intermission
I wait
You call
I have loved
I wait
Lux Vitae
I have loved
Through the Storm
Lux Vitae
I have loved, to love You more
Through the Storm
You call, Open Door
I have loved, to love You more
Ad Infinitum
You call, Open Door
I walk with You through the Storm
Ad Infinitum
My Love is always Yours
You walk with me through the Storm
The Waiting Room calls
Intermission
(Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)
for "my" Georgia,
who is entirely her own person
The inspiration for my poem -
This "Pantoum" is about Birth, Life, Death. There are all sorts of "Waiting Rooms", in this Life and the next. Of course, this is my belief. The reader may interpret Birth, Life and Death distinctly separate from my belief.
Georgia, the 'True' inspiration for your name, below. x
"I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught.”
- Georgia O'Keeffe
"I had to create an equivalent for what I felt about what I was looking at - not copy it. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe
"I said to myself, I have things in my head that are not like what anyone has taught me - shapes and ideas so near to me - so natural to my way of being and thinking that it hasn't occurred to me to put them down. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe"
"Marks on paper are free - free speech - press - pictures all go together I suppose. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe
"To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage. ”
- Georgia O'Keeffe
"Anyone who doesn't feel the crosses simply doesn't get that country.”
- Georgia O'Keeffe
Artwork, Georgia Totto O'Keeffe (November 15, 1887 – March 6, 1986)
“Ram’s Head with Hollyhock”, 1935
https://www.georgiaokeeffe.net/ram-head-with-hollyhock.jsp
Trent Reznor/Atticus Ross
"Technically Missing"
https://youtu.be/EBaa0k1y57w
"Politics is a dirty business. If you are going to 'write' policy, fabrication is not advisable, make sure you have ALL the true facts in front of you and that TRUTH is delivered by whatever means necessary". Quote, Leanne Lovejoy-Burton to daughter, Georgia - April 2018.
Colorful specters stand whispering secrets,
but the mortal ear hears only the rustle of
crusty leaves caught in a Fall wind.
Natures language is a private thing, you see.
Humans excluded of course;
what do they know about Nature and her ways?
Humans have long ago forgotten it;
built many languages of their own and
now the trees pass their secrets around;
an ongoing conversation about life, death and
the peculiar things in-between;
themselves being one.
How can they forget what their souls
have always known?
Nature came first, humans later and with closed
senses they’ve lost the capacity for participation
in this thing called life.
Difficult life
Life is life, hmm, yes, if we are still alive
This is a question only, a question, what is life
And what's for, and why? Freedom or jail?
Independence or freedom?
I don’t know
I don’t know
This guy is just a simple thinker
Nothing else
But then the question is stayed, and no answer
Still no answer
Empty the answer’s box
And the life gone
And no answer
I am dying like a silly boy
No, that’s so far, so far
Death isn’t upcoming, my future is a flyer
Just fly
Hmm, so the life flyes
Flying, moving, walking, running, flowing, streaming, progressing, leaking
So, life is opposite of the immobility
So the move is the life
Not exists
In every moment life is gone
Life is difficult?
How?
I never get that
Always gone
The days feel like years
Awaiting salvage of my pieces
I will go in a moment
But, have to live for years
Life is a constraint
Imprisoned or liberated
But, the cage is a reality
For, every illusion is a reality
It continues after it ends
Though, not perceptible
We don’t see all
Much is outside our range
Smallest to the biggest
Life and death is not visible
It is only an impression
Parting day too is an illusion
I may continue in some form
Not perceptible to others
But I love my perceptible form
So, death is a loss to me
He left his life one morning,
while she was sound asleep
he left hr without warning cos there
are secrets you have to keep
he didn’t wait to see the tears form
in her beautiful eyes
and as he passed by the mirror
began to realise
he’s never going home
she wrote him a text message
listened to his answer phone
her life was lying in wreckage cos she
was going to be alone
as she passed by the mirror
thoughts running through her head
All the things she wanted to tell
Him all the things never said
He’s never coming home.
As she looked into the mirror
thoughts running through her head
All the things she wanted to tell
Him all the things never said
He’s never coming home.
If you find someone that you love
And with his life you’ll spend
You will know it’s enough
To have a lover and a friend
As she looked into the mirror
Her veins became ice cold
And she felt the faintest shimmer
As his fingers fold
They both are going home.
David Cox 08/09/24
OF SAGE LEAVES AND SWEET FLOWERS…
While flowers may be deemed
The sweetness of nature and life,
It is the leaves of her trees that are
The essences of life, death, and rising:-
It is the leaves of the tree
That feeds and nourishes her;
That ensures her branches’ bearings;
Photosynthesizing her peace and love:-
While living flowers are plucked,
Vase-like buried, and housed until death,
They are later thrown away—forgotten.
But fallen leaves reflect resurrection:-
Yes, in nature, trees shed their shading blades
And for a while, stoically stand in nakedness;
Piercing skyward to the coming resurrection
Of their green and rainbow colored leaves.
Thus, I’d rather be a leaf than a flower;
All trees bear leaves; but all don’t flower.
Leaves—nature’s resurrection symbols;
Her saged bristlecone pine allegories:-
Laying very still actually afraid to move my head unbearable headaches after two strokes severe anxiety syncope fainting spells my husband rushes me back and forth to the hospital I felt horrified anytime you have a traumatic brain injury a lot comes into play first it was waking up from the coma blurred visions big words from nasal radiology deplopia vertigo early onset of dementia learning to walk talk again physical therapy hope laughter crying pain and suffering now this 3mm basilar tip aneurysm right where in front of my brain stem which meets blood vessels to my spine now what lay still treat the pain prepared for an angiography just when I thought having two strokes after traumatic brain injury couldn't be any worse well now it is afraid to breathe cardiovascular attacks Afib irregular heart beats afraid to panic ptsd envisioning myself deceased grieving my health as I once knew it before traumatic events before traumatic brain injury before traumatic headaches never knowing when this will erupt will it be riding to the doctors pharmacy grocery store church or just while having tea watching King of Queens reruns will I be laughing crying or taking a bath when it burst ticking time bomb an yet I am reminded everyday of all the wondrous things God has created life is funny that way I suppose I'm still wondering life death do I get to choose rather I come back as a cardinal an eagle or a butterfly something with wings to soaring with the angels watching over God's earth for now laying still treating pain