I knocked on an earth-red door
I knocked on an earth-red door
And death let me in;
He spoke warm and soft
About the log fire within.
And though I warmed to his charm
His company was dim;
So I shut the door and left,
Drinking Vodka and Gin.
Singing limerick odes for death
About duties of sin;
Walking erstwhile forever?
'Til his feet made no din.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Have Not Knocked
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
When I had been in double struggles,
You have not knocked.
Or when I had been on my knees,
You have not knocked.
And when I felt grumpy and crunchy,
You have not knocked.
Or when I've asked you to leave me,
You have not knocked.
You know I can get really moody,
But, you have not knocked.
And carry drama to extremes,
No, you have not knocked.
You've stuck with me when I've been stinky,
And, you have not knocked.
To me you are my 'everything',
And I love you a lot.
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
Whenever I've been down and dumpy,
You have not knocked.
Or when I've picked my wounds to bleed so,
You have not knocked.
And when I pout with rudeness rooted,
You have not knocked.
Or when I whined consistently,
No, you have not knocked.
You know I can get really moody,
But, you have not knocked.
And carry drama to extremes,
But, you have not knocked.
You've stuck with me when I've been stinky,
And, you have not knocked.
To me you are my 'everything',
Because of patience you've got.
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
You've never not...
Come to knock.
Come to knock,
At my door...
With words 'I told you so! '
And...
In my heart you are adored.
That's what I need to show you more.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death's Dance
One cold winter's night amid a storm
I heard a knock at the door
It was Death asking to warm himself
Beside the fire so I let him in
You may think I was insane but quite the contrary
Death is the origins of all our joy and sorrow
For without Death, there is no life
Without Death, there are no drums
Death played his song while I danced
Though I didn't know the steps
All the while my love for Him grew
And when I finally stopped
I found myself weeping...
Because at last I understood.
poem by Robin Pitt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death Is Calling At My Door
Death is calling at my door,
Knock Knock not another joke.
This time I'm actually scared.
The call of death is at my door,
Knocking..... Knocking.....
Awaiting an answer,
My body gets cold as I start to shiver.
All sorts of things are happening to my body,
Not accustom to it; it got me worried.
I am feeling like I am going to die,
I don't. I want to stay alive.
I don't know what it is,
For all I know it could be a disease.
I spoke to my mother who said it is normal and I am alright,
But the symptoms I am getting insist to pry.
The knocking on the door becomes more as I go closer.
I want it to go away let me live to see another day.
I open the door ready to take my last breath,
Shockingly death had the wrong address
poem by Anita Khelawan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life's Turn
How can death be near
Does it whisper still
All I hear is the lark singing
How can death be real
Safe within your light
How can death bring back the night
How can death here
Knocking at the door
He should know
I don’t live here anymore
Oh death be gone!
I’ve known you well
Tonight it’s life’s turn
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death’s Too Near
Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!
Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!
Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morbidity
The whitest white youll'ever see is bone
2 jobs, no life, what you knew is gone
when you work so hard, flesh is stripped
nothing left, just a skelaton, standing alone
Innocence gone, no more fun
Innocence gone, never found again
The whitest white you'll ever see is bone
Break your back, break a leg
Snow will never compare, never be as white
Bang your head, split your skull
Innocence gone, no more fun
Innocence gone, never found again
Death inside, death outside, death on all sides
Soul on fire, hung by the neck, invisible line
Life precarious, walking completely oblivious
Ignor the danger, just filled with anger
Innocence gone, no more fun
Innocence gone, never found again
Hate everyone, trying to be someone
Gamble everyday, look for paradise
Take the risk, and throw the dice
Give a cheer, to avoid your own fear
Death at your door, laying on the floor
Death at your door, waiting to see a perfect shore
poem by Jason Luneau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Three Knocks
WHEN the owl that scared the mouse
Fluffed his feathers and sat still,
And the night around was chill,
On the door of yonder house
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
While the owl, aloof and drear
Yellow-eyed his vigil kept,
Down the breeze a crying crept,
And it seemed to tell of fear —
Fear and care —
It was Life that entered there!
When the owl had greyer grown
By a score of years and more,
On the selfsame cedar door
Of yon house that stands alone,
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
Yet, though many gracious flowers
Wreathed the house from floor to roof,
In his shadowed haunt aloof
Staring sat he through the hours,
Unaware
It was Love that entered there!
When the owl had passed away,
And the mouse, no more afraid,
In the tree-glooms frisked and played,
On that door at end of day
Someone knocked,
And a hand the door unlocked.
Once and twice that knock had come,
Once for Life, and once for Love;
Towards the night the shadows move,
And the land lies still and dumb
Everywhere —
It is Death that enters there!
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gerald's Promise (A True Experience)
A long time ago in the year of 1991
My love took sick, I knew not what of
Four dream's of future showed me he'd leave,
And drop behind Death's veil and I, be left alone
So we made a pact, he promised to come back
13 is my unlucky number, I feared it more and more
And on August 13th--Death knocked on our door
You must realize I was devastated
To know before what was to be, and be unable to change it
Then came a night, it stands in my memory
Heavy quilted curtains we made hung at the windows,
Alone in bed I leapt to see, two shining stars,
Bright as Venus in evening's sky looking over me-inside!
As suddenly they had appeared, they brightened and were gone
I straight away grabbed a light and ran down the stairs
I sat right down and spoke aloud, 'Gerald, I know you're here'
You scoff and ask how am I sure it was he, Dear Reader
I'll tell you how I know, this was January 3, 1992
It was on the date of the Anniversary of our meeting,
Six year's prior, right down to the Hour!
poem by Susan Renee Layne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love sticks on
If a door is shut
Don’t get upset.
Search and find.
There’s another door
Open, perhaps wider.
In our courtship
The door, don’t shut.
I want no other door
Even if it is wider.
No door is dearer than
The door of your bosom.
10-10-1999.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jonah-Woman
Who are these white-capped jesters...and jackals
Who have placed me in the belly of a
White death-stinking fish?
Not this time, not Jonah-time fish.
Not walking out safe from Jonah's fish. No.
Not this time.
The jesters and tittering hyenas, with their night-lumin
Eyes, who tiptoe soft through the loud-hinged door...
And shut it quietly-quick behind them.
They are breathing to find me.
They safari hunt for me...beating the bush-room.
Mine. I am hiding in the pillow, in the chest of drawers,
In the air.
They can't find me with their needles and needle-quick
Pills.
The rancid, disinfected fish is down the hall, around the
Corner...on the ceilings.
I can sense death rattles...quick as goodbye from
Yesterday. The fish swallows the soft, noisy passage.
The fish is Hill House. The fish is the jackals' den.
The fish, with no fins, rummages the halls, airborne,
Hovering on moon-shadowed winds.
A scream, a gurgle, the fish forgets me for the moment.
The jesters still seek, seethe. They have other work now.
Something is wrong.
Something is amiss in Heaven.
They have placed me in a room with no art.
There is someone at the door...snuffling dog noises.
Who are you that you do not answer me?
The dog has gone. I think it has gone...but I do not think
It was a dog.
They have taken everything. Even the name of my Father...
Given it to the jackals. This, my scent.
They seethe out of their fish-den, carefully stepping over
It's teeth. Man-shark teeth. Death teeth.
They walk with needles balanced on a tray...rainbow pills
In teensy, little cups...watch me to make sure I've swallowed
The rainbow.
Something is my God wrong.
Something should not be happening.
I cannot walk out of this vile fish...like Jonah. I cannot go
Past it's teeth. I am afraid...more of a coward.
Even your God cannot help me now.
I fear the teeth will SNAP! shut when I'm half-way through the
Opening.
Will anyone care if the jackals laugh, lapping my blood...
While I walk away from a white death-fish?
Walking home.
Walking alone.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death is... A Compilation of Death Poetry
(10/05/2000)
Death is when your loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain to the heart
Death is a feeling of permanent sadness & pain
Death is when your loved ones have forever gone away
Death is a call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is a lesson to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is an unhappy feeling to have
Death is unpleasant on anyone's behalf
Death is something we all will go through
Death is a storm waiting to brew
Death is a lingering crow always overhead
Death is a soul, done being fed
Death is cruel,
Death is unfair,
Why death?
Does death care?
Death is unkind,
Death breaks hearts,
Why death?
Do you like to part?
Death is here,
Death is there,
Why death?
Why be everywhere?
Death is the end,
Death is to die,
Why death?
To make people cry?
Death was created,
Death is still here,
Why death?
We live in fear,
Death is death,
Death is dead,
Why death?
Because death said.
Death is forever, so don’t flirt with death
Death is painful, so stay away from knifes
Death is not for lovers, so don’t die
Death is not for me, so don’t even try
Death is never clear, so be careful
Death is never fun, so stay away from strangers
Death is never pleasing, so don’t get caught up in the hype
Death is never fair, so get use to it
Death is always occurring, so don’t forget it
Death is never what u expect, so expect the unexpected
Death is not for you, so please don’t give up
Death is forever, so don’t forget that
poem by Shenise Ashmeade
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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Plaything
I've been through this before
I feel like walking out that door
If this is what love is then I don't want no more
Today you made me feel that I was nothing real
you took me and through me away
I am not a play thing, I'm simply wearing your ring.
I'm getting tired of the lies that you sing.
I been through all this before
I feel like walking out that door,
If this is love I don't want no more
I dreamed of you when I was a little girl
that you come in and change my world
Now I'm sitting her with my dreams out the door
Ive been through this all before
I feel like walking out the door
If this is love I don't want no more
Believe me I am strong I can live if your long
gone..
I will hurt for some time, but soon the pain will fade.
I will be fine!
Ive been through this all before
I feel like walking out the door
If this is love I don't want no more
Written By Carmen Cantu-Cabrera 2008
poem by Sita Cabrera
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death is a door
Death is only an old door
Set in a garden wall;
On gentle hinges it gives, at dusk
When the thrushes call.
Along the linted are green leaves,
Beyond the light lies still;
Very willing and weary feet
Go over that sill.
There is nothing to trouble any heart;
Nothing to hurt at all.
Death is only a quiet door
In an old wall
poem by Katie Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Country
Oh what is that country
And where can it be,
Not mine own country,
But dearer far to me?
Yet mine own country,
If I one day may see
Its spices and cedars,
Its gold and ivory.
As I lie dreaming
It rises, that land:
There rises before me
Its green golden strand,
With its bowing cedars
And its shining sand;
It sparkles and flashes
Like a shaken brand.
Do angels lean nearer
While I lie and long?
I see their soft plumage
And catch their windy song,
Like the rise of a high tide
Sweeping full and strong;
I mark the outskirts
Of their reverend throng.
Oh what is a king here,
Or what is a boor?
Here all starve together,
All dwarfed and poor;
Here Death's hand knocketh
At door after door,
He thins the dancers
From the festal floor.
Oh what is a handmaid,
Or what is a queen?
All must lie down together
Where the turf is green,
The foulest face hidden,
The fairest not seen;
Gone as if never,
They had breathed or been.
Gone from sweet sunshine
Underneath the sod,
Turned from warm flesh and blood
To senseless clod,
Gone as if never
They had toiled or trod,
Gone out of sight of all
Except our God.
Shut into silence
From the accustomed song,
Shut into solitude
From all earth's throng,
Run down tho' swift of foot,
Thrust down tho' strong;
Life made an end of
Seemed it short or long.
Life made an end of,
Life but just begun,
Life finished yesterday,
Its last sand run;
Life new-born with the morrow,
Fresh as the sun:
While done is done for ever;
Undone, undone.
And if that life is life,
This is but a breath,
The passage of a dream
And the shadow of death;
But a vain shadow
If one considereth;
Vanity of vanities,
As the Preacher saith.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Unexpected Death
Walking towards the building
Going in
Drinking
Smoking
Hours later…
Walking... stumbling out
Fumbling with the keys
Unlocking the door
It was a nice car
New
Driving home
Switching from one lane
To another
Swerving in the road
Running lights
Hitting mailboxes
In the other car:
Driving home from work
Going to see wife and kids
Turning the corner
Lights shining right at him
Sirens
Lights
An ambulance
A death
An injured man
An unexpected death
Of a great man
Just driving home from work
poem by Cheyenne Joyner
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Punishment
There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.
Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.
And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?
And will He care...?
'Tis down to Him.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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