Death Prose Poems | Examples
These Death Prose poems are examples of Prose poems about Death. These are the best examples of Prose Death poems written by international poets.
The Christian who preaches
death and destruction, End
Times, is little better than the
Tyrant who says, do as the
state says, or suffer the consequences --
we are no good to heaven if we
arrive there for fear of damnation.
No sane father, beyond the years
of a child’s early development, wants his child
to fear him. Love but not fear. Love
and fear cannot coexist. Sin wants
us to fear. Love does not. Dropping
bombs or dropping damnation are one
in the same. It is man’s way, and not
the way of our nurturing God. Love
is the Light and Way of a harmonic
universe....
We fought with monsters and became monsters fighting the insane acting out in strange displays dancing nonsense in a cave imprisoned by a thousand lies we designed to contain a willful child, and with hammer blows and the whips we made ourselves better slaves then the slaves who came before with fevered dreams drunken prose spoken lost and broken noses, broken skulls, broken bones tore through flesh, the fear, the fear, I miss my friends, those younger days, it seemed to me we would never grow old, tired. VIXI.
Poem 17 Note. . . vixi liber et moriar: "I have lived free and I will die free"
A TRAVELING ADVENT EVENT
Traveling,
I got lost.
In faith,
I journeyed onward;
My trust
Put in God:-
With circling
And squaring,
I soon got back
On my route:-
Looking back
On all this,
There’s a powerful
Message within
The time spent:
Christ’s birth, death,
Burial, and rising,
To navigate us onward:-
OF MERCY AND DAILY BREAD
It’s death, not life,
That’s inevitable.
Rather than being evoked
By what we’re dying of,
Let us give God the praises
For what we’re daily living with:-
In God’s healing spirit,
That has us perpendicular,
We’re not breathlessly parallel:
Our mission, not yet completed:-
Remember, we pray for daily healing;
Thus, must be our daily thanksgiving:
Reflected in daily labors of love
As we share the sacred word:-
Thus, let us live and share peace and love,
In the best mission-purpose endeavors,
Until we hear that resurrecting holy whisper:
“Well done, my servant. Come…take your rest.”
IN AN AWARENESS CASE OF WAR
Murder is a crime,
Unless it’s in war;
Then it’s all legal:
The death penalty
For the innocent:-
Our reality,
Is not of heaven:-
Wars have no angels;
Only its demons:
Scavengers of peace:-
Oh, let’s be of faith,
Laboring in love;
God is on our side,
And has canvassed hope:
Armageddon:-
When time springs forward, and light prolongs the day
When insects like bees, mosquitoes, and wasps, gallop
into Spring, armed with weapons to annoy and sting
When birds fly North, and bears awake to hunt
When the chilly winds of Winter grow quiet,
And the Spring Season shouts for joy
When darkness fades for fear of the light
When hidden shadows are clearly exposed
When roaring thunder and frightful lightning
Give way for the entry of clear blue skies
When war and conflict succumb to calm and peace
When dastardly death unequivocally bows to life,
And cries of "Crucify him!" are replaced with the
more subdued sounds of, "My Lord and My God".
LETTING LIFE BE NOT LIVED IN VAIN
Know that the righteous life you’ve been living,
Has not and could have never been lived in vain:
You’ve trekked shadowed valleys of ole death;
You’ve mastered many bridges of troubled waters;
You’ve conquered so many Sisyphus-like rocks;
And God has and never ever allowed you to fail:-
Thus, in the deemed storms ahead, fear no evils;
Just shift faith’s undying spirit of hope into high gear;
Turn on those ever splashing wipers—wiping out doubt.
And with divine wisdom and guidance, continue sojourning,
Continue in your humble labors of love you’ve been assigned;
And at journey’s end, be in thanksgiving grace for a vainless life:-
Tears of Joy
God cried today; His tears fertilized
Mother Earth’s womb;
The fragrance of nature saturated the air.
Tomorrow I will cry upon your grave
Laughing tears
Falling from pregnant memories:
Pregnant memories
Washing away grief’s gloom,
Watering love,
And the happiness of peace
We shared:-
We are shocked and in tears
But the mirror doesn’t see our sadness
Here but not here
Gone but not gone
Today we pray and lean on those closest
Wanting to cling as close as the Holy Ghost is
Wanting to say “hi” one more time
Or to even have a chance at saying good-bye
Hi Friends
Sorry to inform you that my elder sister died of a stroke on 24th September. It has been a shock for me and the family and I am taking a few days off from Poetry Soup. So, I won’t be able to read your poems or respond to your comments.
A…2-4-2…Sextet
Peace…No!
Loud bombs explode—
It’s war!
Children
Feed war each day;
Death smiles:-
Pooped bombs,
Swell graves’ bellies;
Death farts:-
In war,
Only death wins;
Peace can’t:-
Love peace,
War is evil—
Crave life:-
The war—
Fought to get peace;
Lost it:-
In the early suburb mornings,
Out on the county roads
There is heavy fog in view
It should slow traffic down to a roll.
But that's not always the case,
When there is gloom, that comes into play
It plays with the lives of people
The obscure took some lives today.
Sad to say this, but it's the truth,
We all know precisely just what to do
Slow down on those county roads
"Or the fog will eventually take you."
Dottie had been looking past the relatives for sixteen days
Staring out the window, at the pasture, seeing angels
They motioned for her to come, but she was never alone.
Her daughter did not understand the death process
A parade of people came in to check on her
Some had so much perfume, they caused coughing
One did not understand Dottie’s appetite was long gone.
This visitor ate a pound of marshmallow fudge in front of her.
Finally, on Wednesday afternoon there was a lull.
Eight minutes between visitors.
Dottie’s soul soared out the window, through the farm gate
Toward her forever home, accompanied by her angels.
Jim had only glimpsed the gorgeous merwomen once
But he never forgot her gray-eyed stare
She had bored pinpricks through his surprised eyes
Was her hair real or imagined?
Jim recalled coral, starfish and pearls at her crown.
Had she been a mirage, or had she been real?
His boat returned to Dolphin Bay each year for thirty-six years
He hoped to get another glimpse of the beautiful siren
We old-timers knew the story
Jim had told it in every tavern and restaurant down the coast.
Some figured he met with the merwomen upon his death
Unsure, I sincerely hoped that this might have happened for him.
M A I D in Canada
Assisted death debate U K
Sweden Switzerland initials
( S S ) ?? Its in sitiu.'
Covid 19
Each offers!! A (solution flows)
Ya'know?
Same book, different pages.'