Death Roses Are Red Poems | Examples
These Death Roses Are Red poems are examples of Roses Are Red poems about Death. These are the best examples of Roses Are Red Death poems written by international poets.
When roses are red and violets are blue,
each is a lovely, sentimental hue.
But the color of blood is also red,
and now my love, as you're gone and dead,
the color of velvet is tinged dark-blue,
and I still cry through my tears for you.
Finger on the trigger
Hands on the roses
Hands on the gun spewing
Deathly lead
Blood spilled and splashed
In crimson
The life is gone.
One smoking gun
One wreath of roses
Death provoking
Death calming
A rosette of death and
Peace in a duet.
(Written on 13/04/2024)
Asian sun rises from the east
Rose seeds beneath the fence
For these petals are released
The perfumed smell of the rose lingers
The scene is hailed by the divine
Asian sun rises from the east
Although the rose has passed
Its impression will remain
For these petals are released
Death has come and the rose withers
No other like it will be spotted
Asian sun rises from the east
The rose has moved on to another place
Tunnel of light is iridescent
For these petals are released
The Sun sets in the West
The rose is laid to rest
Asian sun rises from the east
For these petals are released
When he died he made a pledge and a vow
The florist must deliver a rose somehow
His wife would be the one to receive this rose
So despite his death their love still grows
Who was the man to do such a loving thing?
An entertainer who was always up for joking
He was adored and idolised by so many
I'm referring to the legendary Jack Benny
Nearly fifty years now since he died and gone
Jack had comic timing that was second to none
A lovely thing for him to be remembered by
No doubt his wife Mary had a tear in her eye
Lipstick Lips
Lipstick red lips on
Tombstone remains. Bloody red
Roses kiss the cold
Breath of death, crystallizing
Hearts overcome by the flame
Marckincia Jean
Tanka
10/13/19
I
Your open petals,
Warm scent, welcoming smile
Ignites a fire from a mile;
Flame of passionate unwrought metals.
Please do not quench it that burns
But does not consume.
Let me be covered beneath those hidden turns
Where I constantly want a part of me;
I'm convinced it's charmingly death dealing
But enigmatic and mysteriously inviting.
II
Rose,
My eyes have seen enough,
I'm now strong, hard and tough,
I want a part too for my nose!
Let me feel your boundlessness,
The inside of your being;
The oily part, the New Testament's richness
Let me testify to your reign,
Let your fire consume me at once
Let me taste death in your hands!
III
Quietly release from your bud,
Let my insects pollinate your sweet essence:
The centre of excellence
And produce more lines of womanhood.
Do not extinguish this fire that burns
Through our forest of true love stories,
Let the fruit-eating birds
Disperse your seeds in their droppings;
Roses are red, let them regenerate.
And let the dead resurrect!
Roses are red, ever redder when enraged.
Violets are blue, farcical as a cartoon page.
Those roses spread upon you’re aloneness bed,
and violets, the vigil of black and blue knees.
The redness of hair stripped of pretty petals.
A blue countenance that settles in the heart.
An infant-like scream turning crimson as the sun,
and inkblot blue with padded walls, facing no one.
Roses are red, violets are blue...you walk into walls
Like a wounded bouquet. Yet life calls...life calls.
He hands you tulips instead of death. You rejoice in his gift.
This one does not deceive. He loves you, not loves you not.
3/28/2018
HIS ROSE, HER DEATH
All she had wanted was a red, red rose,
That would quell the love of that handsome man,
Alas! The rose tree was in winter's throes,
Unable to birth a rose of her plan;
So she said she will sing the whole night long,
With her heart against the thorn of that tree,
"Love is greater than life", rang out her song,
As her life blood fashioned his love ruby;
Yet, when her heart burst out in pain thereof,
When the crimson petals slowly opened,
He was not there to see her die for love,
Nor did he feel that love with blood deepened;
"Trust me baby, this is love," her last breath,
He never found out his rose was her death.
07/11/17
Roses are red,
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you
But the roses are wilting
And the violets are dying
The angels flew away
Now I’m left crying
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I pulled the trigger
And away I flew
Roses are red
So is my blood
Pull out your knife my dear
And make us a flood
My crimson liquid will flow as wine
Like the grandest of rivers, deliciously sublime
You stab and plunge and stab and stab away
Even you my dear have a shiver
Lustful revenge for an untold crime
There comes a day, when a bill will come due
You killed the wrong one you see
It should have been you
A garden of lust, a magical dust
the wizdom of wizards, with just a touch...
Roses are red canaries are yellow
a mushroom boat in a sea of jello...
fields of magic that grow with imagine
a whole new world like my name was Aladdin...
Tasty and pasty with so much wonder
marshmallow dreams, the hunger im under...
So many flowers, so many colors
beautiful showers, beautiful lovers...
Given wings to search new dreams
borderline heaven, it is what it seems...
I fly in the garden's that are built like tower's
and eat the plants that give me the power...
Airplane trips to a fantasy so erratic
but some of the flowers are not so magic...
My plane has gone down, not found to be saved
now the only flowers i see, are the ones on my grave.
Maybe, Jesus would have
thought «Roses are red, violets are
blue», if He
had not been crucified
Or maybe, He would not had
asked «Father, forgive them for they don’t
know what they’re doing!», if He
had not been betrayed
Maybe, many would have
lived much longer, if man with sane mind
had not been obsessed
with war, war, and more war
Or maybe, I would have
grown «As lovely as a tree», if death
had never been mine
for I, a blooming word, had a goal
not to live life like sperm only minutes
to an hour after being libidinously
ejaculated outside from one's sacredness
Back with vengeance is what he cried
Out so loud it made them hide
The bad ones back so be aware
His sword just slayed the one your near
Dont pray to much for it wont help
Your pointless ranting will only speed it up
The sword of notion has your name etched on
For your spine is calling as it shimmers in the sun
I killed peace as well as hope
I killed the ones that pointlessly spoke
I got tired of the peaceful roses are red
Sick of the hopeful words of the dead
For now is your time to hear the truth
That it felt so good when my sword entered the youth
Finally I have been summoned to do the deed
For poetry is dead as I killed it unseen
It lays lifeless on the floor waiting for you to breath
It has no life anymore for you butchered its seams
Finally you will see that I did it for you
As you were killing poetry only I saw it through