Loss / Death Poems (1,049)

I have watched parades for many years
I have watched the Dairy Days Parade in Platteville since 1997
Yesterday was the first time I watched it from the library
On the second floor there are reading rooms that stick out
They are big enough for one person to sit about 20 feet above main street
The parade started about 9:30
At about 9:48 a historic reinactment group walked past
One man fell down
They did chest compressions on him to keep him alive
But he died later that day
I had a friend lose his mom at around 3:30 early that same day
I wonder how the day I made the decision to see it from above
That I would be right where a man had died
But all the other years I had watched it farther down main street
I didn't find out about his death till around 3 pm that day
When I visited the historic reinactment at Mound View Park

The battle is half won,
But still it drags on,
Another misery been found,
A mother joy drowned.

Another day gone by,
Another sorrow standby,
Another happiness fly,
Pain never says goodbye!

A little joy stolen,
A little fun hidden,
Why is it forbidden?
All hope forsaken!

Motivation a must,
Leaving yesterday dust,
Tomorrow another rush,
Today I'll wait to pass.

If only you knew,
I share with you,
Not the devil's rust,
But your human touch.

I will carry on,
From where I fall,
And break these walls,
And walkway brave and tall .

Less fear scares me as dark shadows enclose
Under black shroud of a widow's blind-fold
Wearing the scent of summer's darkest rose
Blooms in a lonely field that death foretold

Eyes never drying when tears stop their flow
Nothing is as moist as the mourning dew
Nor stark the color of carrion crows'
Coal black feathers turning purplish-blue

Sick in my grief was love lost in the grave
More vulnerable yet lest I ever dreamed
Continuous fear wearing down depraved
Bitterness cast from the nets unredeemed

May ones' good life be made from what's gone past
Living in sweet dreams that forever last

The City is a bee hive but there is no Queen....
So inhabitants have no order everybody chasing their own dream.
A colony of concrete building rising up from hot paved sidewalk,
Shoulders marching in business attire and on their cellphones they talk.
They are building something but not sure what exactly,
Only following the expectations of society.
Shoppers with shopping bags of various purchases they may never need,
Thier ego and others desired expectation they feed.
Strollers with babies pushed by bent back,tired Mothers,
Inside the exotic clubs and bars you can find the Fathers.
Theaters filled with people with no imagination,
Churches and cults with lost souls without a vision.
Teenagers dressed in the latest fashion,
Heading for a future with no income to survive on.
Yet the City draws people from far and near,
Got to get that dollar is the only voice they hear.

She arrived on the country bus with such hope,her best dress and a sparkle in her eye.
Ten years later that country bus took her back home with a swollen belly,addicted to drugs and the sparkle had died.

Cartoon characters one and all
Some come to sneer some have a ball
Most stay a while some never leave
The few left here seldom grieve

They gain in power
Their egos swell
They preach their truth
Of heaven and hell

Then madness takes them by the hand
Whispers giggles offers plans
To raise themselves above the mods
Make themselves demi gods

The fall is swift
The end comes fast
Your not a god
ALL HAIL THE MODS

Feeling the biting cold north wind blow
I stand on a precipice of a shale cliff
Overlooking the dull choppy waters below
The smells of decaying life is all I sniff
Behind me I glance dim lights of my chateaux
Then swirling high a white form makes as if
A sudden dive into frigid waters it might go
A form of a seagull turning into a hieroglyph
That smell really is the smell of death I whiff

Behind the black curtain
She sits in a chair
Waiting for her name to be called
As she sits and waits
night time falls
the halls have been cleared
the walls all bare
How long has it been
Since somebody has been here

Her once beautiful black hair
Has turned a shade of gray
Her bright smile
Has no life to it
Her brown eyes
Have lost there spark
How long as she been sitting in the dark

The black curtain
All weathered and worn
This lady her heart so torn
how long has she sat here and mourned

She sings songs of a life that’s now gone
She dances in her head
She pretends she’s in his arms
Her heart pounding to the sounds
The music makes her sway
what she would give
If only she could have him for a day

The light peeps through the curtains
She closes her eyes
She can’t look at the sunlight
She sits behind the dark curtain
Waiting for her name to be called
She falls to her knees
She begs please
Take me to you
Let this be my last call

I touch the frosty glass,
And for a brief moment
In the night
The shadow suddenly grows
Closer.
My imagination ? Maybe...

I know you found peace
On distant shores.
How is it to live
There?
How is it to breathe ?
My fear? maybe ...

I know our life is a gift
Of downs, ups,
Rules of the game,
But at the frosty side
Of the glass
You wait
I feel
And I will come
To you one day
Or night.
I never have enough
Of sadness, love
And voices in the mist

My dad died today
a solemn Wednesday. In May.
Dozens, long unseen
converged that day
to pray and to comfort
the soon bereaved.
Proud he was,
pulled his last breath only
when we left the room
In privacy.

But I had been there
to observe the ritual
of his passing.
Strange odors, unnatural heat.
His yellowed eyes
a distraction from
his laboured breathing
and shame of wilting
away.

………………………..

Buried my dad today.
Small funeral. Big change
He lay stiff, in brown suit,
Cold, handsome
And dead.
Fatherly smirk,
plain as Day, hinted
a last smile and
blissful nothingness.

Catholic priest,
paid to speak eloquently
Pretended on pulpit
they were aquaintances.
Untouched by the sadness
that stilled my siblings
I fidgeted. My brain
strained to process
His absence.

I viewed the world's life
With my own, with untold strife
Full of joys and pain both
We are in unison, betrothed
Neither could put wrongs right
So we sit and ponder into the night
We can't go our separate ways
So here we sit together, staying, swaying
Each thinking our own thoughts
In the end it all comes to naught
One ends, one's caught
In never ending struggles, fraught