Loss / Death Poems (1,049)

What is the hope of man
if his years be only 100
Why does he dance with
cymbol and tamberine for
a life that will fade like
the grass
He opens his eyes at birth
and closes them knowing only
the decay of his flesh
Why does he sacrifice his
life for causes whose memory
will fade in eternal night
The sun and moon will see a
thousand years yet will not
grieve when their days are
extinguished
But the heart of man yearns
for the continuance of the
spirit that animates him
Who shall dream the dream of
life
Who can dream of life but man
In this world man gropes in
darkness at noonday and his
genius is mocked by death
Surely he has no history but
faded parchments that prophesy
of his vain existance and the
futility of his endeavors
Where is the hope of life if
man has suscribed to the grave
and relagated his character
to the wind
Will old women and children
chant mockerys of his dreams
of immortality
Will his hope be the proud strut
of the peacock or the frantic
chatterings of apes in the trees
Perhaps he will sober in the
morning
Perhaps he will fall to the ground
and face reality
Perhaps the god of this world will
keep him in blindness
Perhaps the God of heaven will awake
him the the truth of a lasting and
eternal hope and set his heart to
ease, echoing the saying of the great
prophet who declared, 'If a man die,
shall he live again?'~

The war has changed you so
Made you mad how life will go
Does nothing makes you smile
Spending time with me awhile
Your days were full of strife
And taking away so much life
Your nights are sleepless now
Just can't adjust them somehow
Rounds going off all around
Ducking from every sound
Your face - so staight laced
Lacking joy and lacking grace
Such sadness in your eyes
Reflections that you despise
Can you feel how hurt you are
How hurt you make me feel
Is there hope up in the stars
That still shines down from afar
Please hold me close and dear
And not make me shake with fear
And promise you'll save for me
When you shed your last tear

..Silence

I am, tragic
beyond trickery...
I am innocence
I am, misery?
I am Blood
I am, mystery
I am heart
I am, History
I, am, time
I, am delivery
I am love
I am, liberty


...Revenge


I am Plot
I am, author
I am audition
I am, order
I am rhyme
I, am Vission
I am soul
I am, Mission
I am bone
I am, brittle
I am pen
I, am, riddle


Victory...


I am story
I, Belong
I am commitment
I am, strong
I am words
I am... applause
I am life
I, am, law
I, am conscience
I am, bloom
I am seed
I am Tomb.

create poem
I'm always up for that
what may I lie to?
what may I speak
in a no one she can not speak
so forever more I write
what may I speak to
life is not funny
life is obscene
to take anyone
that was what it meaned
go and kill your yard
go and take your flowers and their happiness
you die it for they only grieve so shortly
and if I say things harmful
you must know that it isn't meant so
I mean that so
I want you

*
******
i wait
as dawn, that waits for morning
as eyes, that wait for tears
as ears, that wait for melody
(( i wait for you ))
****
i wait
as dried soil, that waits for rain
as a coast, that waits for wave
as a grief, that waits for joy
(( i wait for you ))
****
i wait
as a ship, that waits for anchorage
as a wound, that waits for heal
as a heart, that waits for peace
(( i wait for you ))
****
i wait
as a petal, that waits for dew
as a winter, that waits for spring
until end of this rough, path
until last, sunset
(( i wait for you ))
i wait
******
***
**
*

On that day of birth, after the death of your friend,
you stop it all, as you maketh your end.
Left in your wake, you leave six and one,
a bringer of sorrow, now hero to none,
a father and husband, a life rendered undone.

Too scared to face demons, so gilded by shame,
you ended it all for your selfish fate,
and left them behind as you rigged your escape.
Bearers of sorrow, that's your family now,
the wife and children, whom you had left out,
a father and husband, that's all they're without.

Rest in peace as you leave them to weep,
and to suffer the pain you've left them to reap.

It once was special a fairytale even,
You rode in like a white knight,
Saved the day, my heart even.

Your smile was my sun
Your laughter my Melody
Your touch my salvation

But in a instant you killed it all
Shattering my heart like a toy
You bittered it so
Now my love is no good

To death of love
You destroyed it all
When you chased them all
I as one wasn't good enough
So five you take...

My heart is dead
Love is going to the grave
A disappointment I'll ever be..

To death of love...
To death of love...

you where here

You where here
Inbody
and soul
To hear you talk

To laugh once more
i know you you gone
I know you cant come back
Your with me always
In my soul
you still with me mother
In my soul

There are so many words I can't bring myself to say
for if I do, what have I to cling onto?
"She was a lady, one of the best", I hear you say,
the word "was" like a dart in my heart,
she "is" I scream in silence,
not willing to accept this grief stricken life sentence.
The gaping hole you've left behind
will never be filled,
no matter the time.
You fought the battle right to the end,
no one could be prouder
than me your best friend
I ought to remember you're free of pain
and not want you back for my own selfish gain.
You are loved more than words can say
that'll never change
not now, nor 'til the end of day.

How do I describe such a man?

Bob, you were kind,
(And cared little for money).

Bob, you had a terrific sense of humor,
(But it was never nasty).

Bob, you saw the World as absurd,
(And insisted that I did too).

Bob, you loved horses,
(And knew that I did as well).
We both loved a bet on the races.

Bob, you loved a beer,
(And I often had one with you).

Bob, when I first met you,
You were the first local
To make me feel welcome.
(That was sixteen years ago).

Bob, you knew that I was a womaniser
(But you accepted me for who I am).

Bob, you loved woman
(But often you would hide it).

Bob, you told me of the dangers of drink,
(Yet admitted that it served a purpose).

Growing up in the 1930's
In Balmain*,
When it was a slum;
During the Great Depression.

Helping to unload trucks,
When you were twelve years old;
So that your ten siblings
Would have something to eat;-
You were already a Man.

You never got a proper education,
Though you were not bitter about it;-
(It takes a Great Man, to be like this).

Bob, you were my teacher;-
And you were my guide.
(And I learned much from you).

You were on my "wavelength"
And you were a selfless man.

You were truly unique;-
(And saw the great humor in monkeys).
You knew completely, that they are our relatives,-
(And that one branch were our lineal ancestors).

The World may not have seen you as much;-
Because you were old (And cared little for money).

You didn't care,
What anyone thought.

Your mind was sharp
To the "end".

You laughed at life,
All the way through;-
For eighty-seven years,
(You even cracked jokes, on your deathbed).

Bob, to the best mate,
I've ever had.

You were my mate,
And I'll miss you.**


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