Here is a list of Loss / Death Poems ordered by Last Liked, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
I dont know
I have decided to become senile,,, or whatever
to live without memory,, forever,
tis all a never ending cycle, i’m bored,, not dead,
want to be here,, not an obituary someone read,
how do I leave without dying?,,, how do I leave
without crying? I want everyday to be new,
Not live like most people do,
A wonderful new beginning,, that starts without
adam and eve sinning,
The answer is in us somewhere,,, that someone
some where said,,,,,, it all becomes clear,,,,,,,,,
when,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,we are dead.
to live without memory,, forever,
tis all a never ending cycle, i’m bored,, not dead,
want to be here,, not an obituary someone read,
how do I leave without dying?,,, how do I leave
without crying? I want everyday to be new,
Not live like most people do,
A wonderful new beginning,, that starts without
adam and eve sinning,
The answer is in us somewhere,,, that someone
some where said,,,,,, it all becomes clear,,,,,,,,,
when,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,we are dead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2021
About this poem:
not much to say
online today!A September Day Tribute
It’s happening again this September
The echo of the cries of 3,000 souls
So very difficult in mind’s eye to remember
The emotional drain each year takes a toll
The sights and sounds of buildings falling
Trying to fly like birds on the wind
Tortures the souls of those remaining
Wishing the memories would be dimmed
The definition of 911 forever changed
Heroes and murderers were born that day
Each in their own way coming to fame
Both facing burning Hell come what may
The murderers are still there to this day
Leaving others with tortuous memories
The Heroes were able to fly away
Facing Hell they left legendary stories
Stories revisited each and every year
For some these stories are of brave men and women
Others the memories still recreate the fear
As each of these visions is summoned
For me I think of 3,000 new stars in the sky
Each one winking at me from above
As I look at them way up high
I send each and every one of them my love
The echo of the cries of 3,000 souls
So very difficult in mind’s eye to remember
The emotional drain each year takes a toll
The sights and sounds of buildings falling
Trying to fly like birds on the wind
Tortures the souls of those remaining
Wishing the memories would be dimmed
The definition of 911 forever changed
Heroes and murderers were born that day
Each in their own way coming to fame
Both facing burning Hell come what may
The murderers are still there to this day
Leaving others with tortuous memories
The Heroes were able to fly away
Facing Hell they left legendary stories
Stories revisited each and every year
For some these stories are of brave men and women
Others the memories still recreate the fear
As each of these visions is summoned
For me I think of 3,000 new stars in the sky
Each one winking at me from above
As I look at them way up high
I send each and every one of them my love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2015
About this poem:
Tribute to all those loss September 11, 2001
Christmas won't be Christmas
This Christmas, I'll not put up the tree.
I'll not put up the outdoor lights
Put up those
Big bright red bows.
Maybe I'll get out my summer clothes,
Take a trip where
The snow and cold won't find me..
Lie beneath a tall palm tree
Where I can't see,
A single brightly lit Christmas tree..
It'd be just fine with me.
Or think about,how we loved this Season so.
We'd put on those silly Santa hats and bows
Wear them into town,
Make everybody laugh and smile.Hey,
weren't we the happy clowns?
Wish everyone A Merry Christmas,
Everywhere we'd go
And slip on the ice laughing
When we'd both fall in the snow.
Just one short year ago?
Just wish I could
Relive those days again..
But sadly,
Christmas just won't be Christmas,
this year,
Without you.
I'll not put up the outdoor lights
Put up those
Big bright red bows.
Maybe I'll get out my summer clothes,
Take a trip where
The snow and cold won't find me..
Lie beneath a tall palm tree
Where I can't see,
A single brightly lit Christmas tree..
It'd be just fine with me.
Or think about,how we loved this Season so.
We'd put on those silly Santa hats and bows
Wear them into town,
Make everybody laugh and smile.Hey,
weren't we the happy clowns?
Wish everyone A Merry Christmas,
Everywhere we'd go
And slip on the ice laughing
When we'd both fall in the snow.
Just one short year ago?
Just wish I could
Relive those days again..
But sadly,
Christmas just won't be Christmas,
this year,
Without you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2018
About this poem:
Just feeling kind of down this time of year, since I lost my husband. Wasn't sure I wanted to post it, but just had to get my feelings out..
early light
as the light breaks through the window , i see it.
but i was already awake.
it lights the room , but no one is there.
i can no longer hear you breathe next to me , or see you in the dark.
because you are now gone.
i used to wake to hear you breathe , see you next to me .
i have done that for 40 years , now is no more.
in the light the room is still , silent, lonely.
no sounds , no more that one echoed around the room.
only the early light dances across from side to side now.
with eerie silence i rise and i sit on the bed , where once you where beside me.
only memory's now to hold and exist.
but i was already awake.
it lights the room , but no one is there.
i can no longer hear you breathe next to me , or see you in the dark.
because you are now gone.
i used to wake to hear you breathe , see you next to me .
i have done that for 40 years , now is no more.
in the light the room is still , silent, lonely.
no sounds , no more that one echoed around the room.
only the early light dances across from side to side now.
with eerie silence i rise and i sit on the bed , where once you where beside me.
only memory's now to hold and exist.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2021
About this poem:
for my wife of 40 years that died on 30/4
Time
The clock chimes the hour
Time ticks bye
Seconds become minutes
Minutes become that hour
Time ticks bye slowly ticking bye time now gone now stolen one says good bye those minute now gone stolen they become
Hours they become days
Days become weeks
Weeks become years
Years become decades
Where has time gone
Time ticks bye
Seconds become minutes
Minutes become that hour
Time ticks bye slowly ticking bye time now gone now stolen one says good bye those minute now gone stolen they become
Hours they become days
Days become weeks
Weeks become years
Years become decades
Where has time gone
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2021
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Lament for a C/S Poetess.
How bleak the fells and valleys seem today,
The lakes and tarns reflect a sombre sky,
A windswept woodland leans to bow and pray,
As laden gloomy clouds begin to cry.
A Summer Willow weeps Christina's loss,
And prematurely sheds an Autumn leaf,
The shadows of its branches form a cross,
To bless her mourning kindred lost in grief.
But she forevermore will linger nigh,
Her laughter heard in streams among the dales,
Or when some light breeze yields a lonely sigh,
Soft raindrops are her footsteps on the trails.
Fond memories her legacy imparts,
Embedded for all time in minds and hearts.
The lakes and tarns reflect a sombre sky,
A windswept woodland leans to bow and pray,
As laden gloomy clouds begin to cry.
A Summer Willow weeps Christina's loss,
And prematurely sheds an Autumn leaf,
The shadows of its branches form a cross,
To bless her mourning kindred lost in grief.
But she forevermore will linger nigh,
Her laughter heard in streams among the dales,
Or when some light breeze yields a lonely sigh,
Soft raindrops are her footsteps on the trails.
Fond memories her legacy imparts,
Embedded for all time in minds and hearts.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2020
About this poem:
This is written in memory of Christina.... ( Pseudonym Odette67), a C/S Poetess who graced this corner for years with special poetry and honest critique. She lived in the beautiful Lake District in Cumbria, England and passed away earlier this year. Her favourite poetry form was a Sonnet so this one is for you Dear Christina. Sleep soundly with the Angels..we'll see you on the other side.Mick.x
Song CCCXXIX
Oh time, oh moment of our final date,
Oh you, conspiracy of hostile moon and stars!
Oh faithful gaze, tell what you truly held
In fateful moment when we farewell sighed.
I failed to understand your sweet reserve.
Oh what simplicity it was to think that I
A part of bliss had managed to preserve!
Alas! wind scattered dreams of better life.
It was the time when fate, her fate
Was thus prejudged, along with mine,
Hence look of sorrow in the beauty’s eyes;
But mist of tears that concealed my gaze
Prevented me to see in clearer light,
Behold much greater sorrow, bigger strife.
Oh you, conspiracy of hostile moon and stars!
Oh faithful gaze, tell what you truly held
In fateful moment when we farewell sighed.
I failed to understand your sweet reserve.
Oh what simplicity it was to think that I
A part of bliss had managed to preserve!
Alas! wind scattered dreams of better life.
It was the time when fate, her fate
Was thus prejudged, along with mine,
Hence look of sorrow in the beauty’s eyes;
But mist of tears that concealed my gaze
Prevented me to see in clearer light,
Behold much greater sorrow, bigger strife.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2011
About this poem:
Translation from the Russian language edition of Petrarch’s “Song Book”, Song CCCXXIXOn April 6, 1327, after Petrarch gave up his vocation as a priest, the sight of a woman called Laura in the church of Sainte-Claire d’Avignon awoke in him a lasting passion, celebrated in the collection of 366 poems “Canzoniere” ("Song Book"). Laura may have been Laura de Noves the wife of Count Hugues de Sade (an ancestor of the Marquis de Sade). There is little definite information in Petrarch's work concerning Laura, except that she is lovely to look at, fair-haired, with a modest, dignified bearing. Laura and Petrarch had little or no personal contact. According to his "Secretum", she refused him for the very proper reason that she was already married to another man. He channeled his feelings into love poems. Upon her death in 1348, the poet found that his grief was as difficult to live with as was his former despair. Later in his "Letter to Posterity", Petrarch wrote: "In my younger days I struggled constantly with an overwhelming but pure love affair – my only one, and I would have struggled with it longer had not premature death, bitter but salutary for me, extinguished the cooling flames. I certainly wish I could say that I have always been entirely free from desires of the flesh, but I would be lying if I did".
Death's Opus
Here, On the other side of the page
where lost days go,
where lost poems go,
where forgotten dreams
are breaking up like morning fog.
Go.....
Go.....
Go.....
I am preparing myself for death.
I am teaching myself emptiness;
the gambler's hunger for love,
the nun's hunger for God,
the child's hunger for chocolate
in the hours of darkness.
I am teaching myself love;
the lean love of marble kissed away by rain,
the cold kisses of snow crystals on granite grave markers,
the soul kisses of snow as it melts in the spring.
Here, on the other side of the page
I lie making a snow angel with the arcs of my arms.
I lie like a fallen skier who never wants to get up.
I lie with my poles, my pens flung around me too far
in the snow to reach.
The snow seeps into the hollow of my bones
& the calcium white of the page deposits me
in like a fossil.
I am fixed in my longing for speech,
I am buried in the snowbank of my poems,
I am here, where you find me........
Dead-
SAS
where lost days go,
where lost poems go,
where forgotten dreams
are breaking up like morning fog.
Go.....
Go.....
Go.....
I am preparing myself for death.
I am teaching myself emptiness;
the gambler's hunger for love,
the nun's hunger for God,
the child's hunger for chocolate
in the hours of darkness.
I am teaching myself love;
the lean love of marble kissed away by rain,
the cold kisses of snow crystals on granite grave markers,
the soul kisses of snow as it melts in the spring.
Here, on the other side of the page
I lie making a snow angel with the arcs of my arms.
I lie like a fallen skier who never wants to get up.
I lie with my poles, my pens flung around me too far
in the snow to reach.
The snow seeps into the hollow of my bones
& the calcium white of the page deposits me
in like a fossil.
I am fixed in my longing for speech,
I am buried in the snowbank of my poems,
I am here, where you find me........
Dead-
SAS
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2018
Post Comment
YES
Really I am so lost without you!
You never give me bad things
Only good and worthy things!
Even YES... I admitted ...
Sometimes ... I leave you ...
But ... LOVE always leads me back to YOU!
Just like Eric Clapton says ...
"Would you hold my hands IF I saw U in heaven"
But ... I think I'm not deserve to b there
But ... I wanna b there with you
IF I COULD!
YES ...
I missed you, MOM!
YES ... your awesome daughter missed U!
You never give me bad things
Only good and worthy things!
Even YES... I admitted ...
Sometimes ... I leave you ...
But ... LOVE always leads me back to YOU!
Just like Eric Clapton says ...
"Would you hold my hands IF I saw U in heaven"
But ... I think I'm not deserve to b there
But ... I wanna b there with you
IF I COULD!
YES ...
I missed you, MOM!
YES ... your awesome daughter missed U!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2016
About this poem:
My belated mom was a very special to me ... whatever she did, however she reacted with my attitudes, why she did this and that, oftenly ... I can't figure it out ... BUT at last I know that she did it because she LOVES me!And this poem is for you BUNDA ... I know I'm not good to make this ... but I know that THERE IN YOUR NEW HOME ... you love this!!
Memories of you will always with me.
Dogs
Ruff
Squirt
Brandee
You were the dogs that I had
I should have spent more time with you
For that
I feel bad
You were always happy to see me
You just wanted to play
Those days are long gone now as you must be in heaven
It's been a long time since 2007
Squirt
Brandee
You were the dogs that I had
I should have spent more time with you
For that
I feel bad
You were always happy to see me
You just wanted to play
Those days are long gone now as you must be in heaven
It's been a long time since 2007
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2021
About this poem:
Watching Eight Below which about sled dogs who help rescue a scientist and then their care giver goes back to rescue them in Antarctica.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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