Last Commented Loss / Death Poems (1,049)

The day you died, i felt like i died with you,i sat i cry and i think about just us two.We were young and in love,of that i am sure,we laugh, we cry, but we were so secure.You were my first love, and you will always be,in my heart,my soul,your all in me.James i love you , and death make us part, but as your sitting in heaven, i know you have me in your heart WRITTEN BY JENNIFERLOVESONG

And a Poet Sleeps

Crushed memories of yesteryear
Pressed between chapters of age.
Pages full, Of white lace & blackberries.
Moonlit walks,
Holding hands & passionate kisses.
Summers full, of flowers,
lazy days, picnic baskets & rowboats.
Winter brings unwritten poems,
Crushed memories of forgotten years
Too long ago to be remembered in the cold,
hard nights of winter & loneliness.
A life that was not always kind
slips away,
as fingers wrinkled with time
slowly relax, and a Poet sleeps



SAS

Alas! from times remembered hills
cold blows the air, the heart it kills.
Flown happy days, where once thou went
amid the sisterhood of love's content;
now, love-caressing, soft whispered sighs,
touching kiss, those sleepy too tired eyes,
tear washed by vast oceans spent
with murmuring voice, love's echo eloquent
speak of thy most beauteous things,
as a haunting lilt on plaintive stings,
reflecting sorrow like grey ashen flowers
through aching pain's sad empty hours.
Yet through opaque tears, beauties lore
recall, love that we had known before,
Lord overseer, master of the deep dark night,
shall torch a star of finest light,
bursting forth as a flower from a bud,
serving warm the sorrowed flowing blood,
ever stay regardless of clouded moons,
to brighter burn than summer's noons,
spill music o'er our once known shore,
to serenade its sweetness all the more;
thereby ease pain from which we strive,
keeping all that's ours awake, alive,
shall see through tears, shinning without stain,
till by grace, sisterhood chance meet again
in evening chapel, coloured vespers store,
church quiet love, measureless by its door,
wherein, memorized breezes charm compel
us listen to the music of its spell,
where all anguished cadence dies away
and restful peace finds its long awaited day.

Carried away on some long forgotten sea vessel,
............ we drift;
not so much by error as purpose.

Extravagance swims by in the silvery form of a sea creature;
to me- foreign territory,
yet he knows each dip and wave
as if he created it...

Thousands of miles,
this watery palace,
stretching end to end,
waving and rolling along with no desire of
destination.....
Yet transports me from place to place-
always sure.

Refuge to a vast array of beauteous danger,
lore and forgotten souls,
its immense depth their presence shields with angered passion.

Yet, to the unfortunate wayfarer,
seeking exposure for her hidden treasures,
thunderous rage initiates that soul to join the
rest in this horrible
wonderful
grave....

....Returning to her former state of peaceful,
guarded beauty,
she beckons the universe to gaze from afar,
and to wonder only
in its heart about the mysteries of
the
sea.


~SAS

My thoughts have wandered forward now,
To a time we don't yet know,
A hundred years or more ahead,
To a place we all must go,
I'm wondering will we be remembered then,
By some distant relative there,
What image of us will appear in their minds,
When their lips form our name in a prayer ?
If per chance they visit our grave,
I hope the script is legibly clear,
And maybe they might call back again,
On our parting date each year,
It's hard to imagine when there's blood in our veins,
And our skin not faded to bone,
When our names are still living beings,
Not yet carved on a marble stone,
We can but hope that someone will come,
And maybe even bring some flowers,
To pay respects to their unknown relations,
As we nowadays do for ours,
As for me....neither praise or scorn me,
Just because I'm a long time dead,
My only request is for a simple prayer,
Then walk away quietly instead.

No famous last words, do I need to speak,
I've spoken them already in life,
No more tearful attention, I wish to seek,
For I dread all this idle strife.
My fatherly advice will always carry on,
Long after I stench the cold clay,
Visible in the lives of my daughter and son,
In their hearts forever, to stay.
I wish you all well, I had my chance,
For regrets now, it's much too late,
My entire life reduced to a backward glance,
Like a warrior, I accept my fate.
I bid you all adieu, my poetic friends,
My pen now to mourn on a shelf,
The time is nigh for life's rhyme to end,
Hit the switch ! ..or I'll do it myself !

Lament my soul,
Lament and watch
black trickles
of sweet poison
flows quietly
into my river
that accumulates
in a dam now full
drop after drop
until it gives in
explodes, expose
Wound in my soul
festers in sight
as maggots arise
a horrid stench
from opened heart
left to dry out
under scorching heat
of a raging sun
only to be flipped
engulfed forever
by the darkness
of a cold cold night,
to freeze
to numb
to die
quietly

Tomorrow torn
by savage beaks
of vultures mean!

Red like the paint on your fingertips and lips,
Like your cheeks in the cold when you were whole, not this.
Now here you lie lifeless, broken and bleeding,
And I sit with wounded and heavy heart grieving,
As this same luscious red flows like sap from a tree,
Seeping slowly into the floor and the cracks underneath,
And your body, these four walls, the ceiling, my hands,
All stained with the colour, now isn't DEATH grand?
Just look what I've created it's as fine as rare art,
Because you are my masterpiece, you are the star.
So alluring like an abstract painting but in fact,
Not difficult to decipher so no one will ask,
"What is the meaning?" No, by far this is my best,
Handiwork dressed as new, something fresh.
The drapes, this whole space, the sheets and the bed,
All the colour of you beautiful lady in red!
J.S.

Stolen Time

He sits upon the ocean bluff
staring out to sea.
This old poet of many years
lost in memory.

He remembers well, when as a lad,
his sight was sharp and clear,
but now his eyes are dull and sad
and wet with salty tears.

His body once a sculptures dream
is now bent low and frail,
he struggles with each breath he takes,
his skin is dry and pale.

Time has stolen all his dreams
and robbed him of his power.
Crushed and sifted all he was
now death will soon devour.

If only time were not the thief
its shown its self to be.
There are stanzas yet to write
metaphors still to bleed.

He watches now as ships sail past
and children play and swim,
lovers walk and stop to kiss
seagulls chant their hymn.

"So much to see, much to be written,"
he whispers as shelved verses & the
life he postponed screams "It's too late"
death is the one thing that will not wait.










~*Sas
"Seduce my mind and you can have my body, Seduce my soul and I'll be yours forevermore" ~Me

It has been almost three years
since to heaven you did fly
We miss the beauty of your soul
now you share it with the sky...

Heaven now knows the warmth of your heart
So bright you put the stars to shame
the glow of Springtime's sun
will never be the same...

Our son has the strength of your soul
the passion of your heart with much to share
in his eyes your majesty of the cosmos
like you a love of animals with much to spare...

My love add your wonder to the stars
enhance the blue of the midday sky
we miss the unequaled shining light
and the tenderness in your eyes...

Soar all the way to heaven my lady
for eternal love has set you free
I await here among the living
for you to greet me in heaven so splendidly..