Short Deathbed Poems
Short Deathbed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Deathbed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Deathbed by length and keyword.
I can't imagine a more greater sense of strife
than to be on yor deathbed knowing you've wasted your life.
There was a lady named Cass
Who on her deathbed passed gas
Respecting the dead
All stayed close to the bed
Hoping it would be her last
As Moses on his deathbed lay
He had so much he needed to say
All of it he'd told his people before
~ At Death's Door they were attentive more
Agonising golden leaves
On their deathbed, recalling
Days of glory that have past
Awaiting rebirth!
(c) Demetrios Trifiatis
24 October 2016
7-7-7-5
all the family
near her deathbed: glazed eyes seek
an aborted child
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A Senryu on Mother Contest
Sponsor: Jenish Samadas
© 5th January 2020
Agonizing golden leaves are trembling as Autumn's bitter wind blows
Fearing to fall onto their deathbed beneath the tree and decompose!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
28 September 2021
Life,
Breath -
Taken
One leg gone
Perished in deathbed
Diabetes murdered Grandpa
Benumbed by ill - gash's agony perforating - dulled
Gold medal won after the day of his death reminds me of his only heart memoirs...
At last on my deathbed
I reach for two words
The ones often transient
or sadly unheard
As my eyes close forever
to journey anew
Two words mark my passing
a final “Thank You”
(The Book Of Prayers: September, 2022)
Ill winds are blowing, things are turning south
It's a sign of the new order, we're all down in the mouth
But there's bright days ahead
Not yet ready for a deathbed
Next election, we'll surely be cleaning house
Her diminished and shading features
As if shrouded within a cocoon or now masked
Graduations of colour that death was successively imposing on her motionless features
Dimming her bouquet of red flowers that seem to float away from her
Her diminished and shading features
As if shrouded within a cocoon or now masked
Graduations of colour that death was successively imposing on her motionless features
Dimming her bouquet of red flowers that seem to float away from her
Form:
Rainfall washing
Light splashes on windowpane…
Leaving nothing behind
No pattern or trace…
If only those tears
Anguishly wept for you…
Upon your deathbed
Had washed away…
Cleansing the pain
That even now abrades my spirit…
He
flickers
electric
but fades to dim.
A sidewalk deathbed,
too cold for this mystic.
Come rest on my wrist angel
and swallow the wild, night air.
Let my slow stride lead your final waltz,
and in your last breath you will know of love.
Flat on my back
Heart attack
Never saw it coming
A big smack
I hear a smile
Down a mile
Doom is looming
Hurt awhile
Pain intense
You were so tense
No flower blooming
There’s no sense
She kills
For thrills
The crow crooning
Reading your wills
Russell Sivey
Binding red ribbons
around silken syllables
Combing wisdom
from my eyelids
Stroking ashes
from my hair
psalms of our palms
sleeping in each pore
Meet me in death
Do not look
at my hands
Do not kiss
these opaque lips
They are
too old
to forgive
too young
to forget
What is a pill?is Is it a murder? A victim of a abuse? Or an experiment?
Is it supposed to help you get out of your deathbed faster or to it?
Is it as fragile as a bomb as if supposed to treat it with care or I can kill myself?
If used to kill someone is it an accomplice?
What is a pill?
I still quarrel with the words you said
On the day we loved in bed.
Beneath them hid the pain of evanescence,
Wrapped in a crumpled paper dress.
I cannot forgive the promise you broke -
One more sunrise together, one more shared joke.
At least one parting kiss,
On the deathbed before you left.
Behold! A garden of rich red roses!
Oh, how it lingers inside of my head.
A vast world unlocked another closes,
parasites now overrun this deathbed.
As the center of us now transposes,
this infestation flourishing will spread.
New take on survival of the fittest,
as flowers lay dying we breed unrest.
On her deathbed, her last gasp, I love you,
Holding my mothers hand, I cannot reply,
I could never reply,
We never said those words, we never touched,
So many of us, carry a burden,
I carry this burden,
From a mother to a son, why was I not the one?
From a son to his mother, why was I not the one?
(Stoic)
Would time resolve everything
If mine stopped
A silver lining holds me together
Little push and I may leap
Would happiness surround me
If my smile fades forever
A patient prays on his deathbed
Let me live he weeps
Another cries from her warm bed
Take me to the skies
Before the sun rises
I wish to be gone
We'll dread
If we're on our deathbed
We'll cry
For we're going to die
That sin
It's a turmoil within
So pale
To feel so very frail
In hours
I'll give you a flower
Suppose
I'll give you a red rose
Last breath
So taste the kiss of death
Track: The Lost Boys - Cry Little Sister
Track: Slipknot - Psychosocial
The artist in me myself instinctively tracing
work a share miseries to inspiration making
Shrouded within my cocoon of slashing brush strokes
lost lovely my Dorothy gently softly releases her yokes
Watching graduations of deaths cold colours on her lovely face
ship me lost anchor my heart lost love no longer in her embrace
The artist in me myself instinctively tracing
work a share miseries to inspiration making
Shrouded within my cocoon of slashing brush strokes
lost lovely my Dorothy gently softly releases her yokes
A watch seeing graduations of deaths cold colours on her lovely face
ship me lost my anchor my heart lost love no longer in her embrace
As I lay on my deathbed on
The eve of knowledge, I gazed
Into the darkness around me and
Realized that if I stared into
The dark abyss, words of
Evil would come to me, but
No part of the darkness was so vile
As the one I saw on my shadowed body.
And so, I came to realize the eternal
Philosophy of the world…
The darkness is inevitable.
Today has 24 hours to live.
Be at its deathbed, son,
keep a vigil, make sure you're
included in its will.
Of the priceless heirlooms,
have your fill.
Sieze its shoulders,
shake it out of its last slumber
if you must.
Cajole, wheedle and fawn,
get all that you most dearly want.
Trust not in the largesse of
an inglorious dawn.