My last bone
I have welcomed death, his gaze
his thoughts, his valentines day kiss
his black tulips pressed against
my blood filled lustful lips
Death is not my foe, we are bed fellows
toe to toe, I am the prairie
he is a prairie dog, loyal and honest
when I am lost; he leads me home
But with wagging tail I'll savour
and unearth my last bone!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost in the Prairie
In one of fhe States of America, some years ago,
There suddenly came on a violent storm of snow,
Which was nearly the death of a party of workmen,
Who had finished their day's work - nine or ten of them.
The distance was nearly twenty miles to their camp,
And with the thick falling snow their clothes felt damp,
As they set out for their camp, which was in a large grove,
And to reach it, manfully against the storm they strove.
The wind blew very hard, and the snow was falling fast,
Still, they plodded on, but felt a little downcast,
And the snow fell so fast they could scarcely see,
And they began to think they were lost on the wild prairie.
And they suddenly noticed marks of footsteps in the snow,
Which they found were their own tracks, as onward they did go,
Then they knew they were lost on the great prairie,
And what could they do in such a fearful extremity?
Then their hearts began to sink with woe,
In dread of having to pass the night in the snow,
And they cried, "Oh, God help us to find our way,
Or else we are lost on the lonely prairie."
And while they stood shivering with the cold,
One of the party a particular horse did behold,
Which was known by the name of Old Jack,
So to take off his bridle they were not slack.
When the horse was let free he threw up his head and tail,
Which seemed to say, "Follow ms, and ye will not fail.
So come on, boys, and follow me,
And I'll guide ye home safely."
And they cried, " Old Jack can show us the way,
So let's follow his tracks without dismay";
And with the falling snow they were chilled to the bone,
But the horse seemed to say, "I'll show ye home."
And at last they gave a shout of delight
When they saw their camp fire burning bright,
Which was to them a cheerful sight,
And they caressed Old Jack for guiding them home that night.
And they felt thankful to God for their safety,
And they danced around Old Jack with their hearts full of glee,
And Old Jack became a favourite from that day,
Because he saved them from being lost on the wild prairie.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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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Prairie Rose
(ferry/manzanera)
Texas thats where i
Belong
It seems to me
Texas lonesome star
Shine on
The big country
Texas with open skies
And you
For company
Texas oh prairie rose
How happy
I should be
Hey hey you can take it from me
Hey hey ill be coming, youll see
Hey hey oh what a state to be in
Hey hey youre tantalising me
Texas I will compose
In fancy rhyme
Or just plain prose
Texas a song of praise
To you
Prairie rose
Texas though im not sure
I can explain
Your strange allure
Texas prairie rose -
A crown of thorns
A scented flower
Hey hey id better leave right away
Hey hey I can hear you calling me
Prairie rose
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Valentines Day Revised
This Valentines Day,
I promise to love you more than I have in the past.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to make you feel more special than I ever have before.
This Valentines Day,
I promise that I will never make promise I can’t keep.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to make you smile bigger than you ever have before,
This Valentines Day,
I promise to give you the biggest hug I ever gave you before.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to kiss you so softly, you get butterflies in your stomach.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to never tell you I love you and not mean it.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to remain forever yours.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to write you at least one poem every month.
This Valentines Day,
I promise that I will be here next year and the year after that as long as I can help it.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I'm yours.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I meet you.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad you know how to forgive.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad you love me.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I love you.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I didn't leave.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad to say you're mine.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I get to see your beautiful face light up when I see you.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I stopped hating you for no reason.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I held your hand that one day at the carnival.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than just flowers and candy.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than little red hearts.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than a hallmark holiday.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than just sex.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than little ‘Be Mine’ cards you got in kinder-garden.
This Valentines Day,
Is a day of true love,
This Valentines Day,
Is a day of just laying in bed and snuggling with you.
This Valentines Day,
Is one way I can show you how much I love you.
This Valentines Day,
Is special because I’m with you.
This Valentines Day,
I’m so deeply in love with you.
2-11-07
poem by Brandi Young
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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Abandoned Prairie
A house sits empty
Upon the plains,
Left so suddenly
To bear it's own pains -
The windows broken
Doors open,
Dust walks right in...
and right out again.
No other homes
Any where in sight,
It moans alone
In the darkest part of night -
Sitting isolated on the Western prairie
Holding memories too strong to bury,
It looks and longs
For all who are gone...
From this country so solitary.
The abandoned prairie
Laughs in the wind,
At those intruders
Who tried in vain to tame this indefinate land -
With their weak cattle
To replace the buffalo,
And wretched reservations to capture
The proud Indian people of long ago.
Where are these invaders now, and
How shall they be found,
Lying so still
In the cold prairie ground.
And yet, the endless wind blows on
Singing so contrary,
The only one to never
Abandon the lonesome prairie.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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mustangs race wind tossed rolling thunder
hoof beats drum prairie storm front
freedom races wild free ranging prairie wind
haiku by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To mourn the death?
Leaving home for school is a death.
Leaving school for service is a death.
Retiring from service is a death.
Every parting is a death.
Every meeting is a birth
Every death leads you to a birth.
Every birth leads thus to a death.
As many entrances as there are exits,
Till the arrival of corporal death,
Beyond which we have no evidence
17.08.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Kiss of Death
I
There she lay
Her soul astray
Her cruel lips
Where my soul slips
Into the taste of death
To find her breath
The breath of pain,
Where souls are slain
Death does not kill pain!
It lives in the one who suffer from it.
II
Death is the ultimate symbol of life
Its deadly kiss pierces harder
Than the plunge of a sharpen knife….
Death comes to us all
We know not when
Or where death will call
So our souls
Slowly slip
Into death's kiss
On her lip
Where we slowly sip
Death's dead breath
The kiss of Death
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love You To Death...
Hey baby, I was at my boys’ house last night. Sorry, I didn’t call you, I pass out on the couch.
You know I love you to death!
Girl you know that I would be with anyone else but you cause I love you to death!
Boo why would I cheat on you? When I got you.
You know I love you death!
That’s you lips stick, you remember when you kiss me as I was leaving out with the boys.
I love you to death!
Stop tripping.
I love you to death!
Your girls just jealous, because they don’t have a man like me.
I love you to death!
It was not me in car with that hoe.
I love you to death!
That’s just my home girl.
I love you to death!
I don’t know why those girls call your phone.
I love you death!
That not my rubber on the car floor, must be my boy.
I love you to death!
That’s not my baby.
I love you to death!
Damn girl, Rest In Peace “I am glad I left when I did.”
I loved her to death!
poem by Ms. Anika Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, Death And Death
I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.
I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.
I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forbidden Kiss
The taste still lingers on my lips
I feel it's presence there
A forbidden kiss
A kiss so sweet
And one so pure
This kiss that plays across my lips
One that will linger there
For all eternity
My true love's kiss
His one, his only
His final kiss
That sealed our fates
And claimed his life
A kiss of life
A kiss of death
One kiss
That will last
For all eternity
In death
One forbidden kiss
Of two star crossed lovers
Fated to love
Fated to die
A kiss of light
A kiss of darkness
One of an angel
One of a demon
A sweet, forbidden kiss
An eternal kiss
That seemed to last but a moment in time
One that will haunt me for a life time
A seal of death
A broken heart
All because of
That forbidden kiss...
poem by DiAnne Douglass
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Best Friend
My alarm bark
Every morning
We're on the deck
Then back inside
My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more
My protector
I know that bark
A warning to all
Someting isn't right
My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more
My foot warmer
You sat by me
Content and happy
Just to be there
My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more
My listener
You heard me
Tell those stories
Time and again
My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more
poem by Paul H Nelson
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An Explanation of America: A Love of Death
Imagine a child from Virginia or New Hampshire
Alone on the prairie eighty years ago
Or more, one afternoon—the shaggy pelt
Of grasses, for the first time in that child’s life,
Flowing for miles. Imagine the moving shadow
Of a cloud far off across that shadeless ocean,
The obliterating strangeness like a tide
That pulls or empties the bubble of the child’s
Imaginary heart. No hills, no trees.
The child’s heart lightens, tending like a bubble
Towards the currents of the grass and sky,
The pure potential of the clear blank spaces.
Or, imagine the child in a draw that holds a garden
Cupped from the limitless motion of the prairie,
Head resting against a pumpkin, in evening sun.
Ground-cherry bushes grow along the furrows,
The fruit red under its papery, moth-shaped sheath.
Grasshoppers tumble among the vines, as large
As dragons in the crumbs of pale dry earth.
The ground is warm to the child’s cheek, and the wind
Is a humming sound in the grass above the draw,
Rippling the shadows of the red-green blades.
The bubble of the child’s heart melts a little,
Because the quiet of that air and earth
Is like the shadow of a peaceful death—
Limitless and potential; a kind of space
Where one dissolves to become a part of something
Entire ... whether of sun and air, or goodness
And knowledge, it does not matter to the child.
Dissolved among the particles of the garden
Or into the motion of the grass and air,
Imagine the child happy to be a thing.
Imagine, then, that on that same wide prairie
Some people are threshing in the terrible heat
With horses and machines, cutting bands
And shoveling amid the clatter of the threshers,
The chaff in prickly clouds and the naked sun
Burning as if it could set the chaff on fire.
Imagine that the people are Swedes or Germans,
Some of them resting pressed against the strawstacks,
Trying to get the meager shade.
A man,
A tramp, comes laboring across the stubble
Like a mirage against that blank horizon,
Laboring in his torn shoes toward the tall
Mirage-like images of the tilted threshers
Clattering in the heat. Because the Swedes
Or Germans have no beer, or else because
They cannot speak his language properly,
Or for some reason one cannot imagine,
The man climbs up on a thresher and cuts bands
A minute or two, then waves to one of the people,
A young girl or a child, and jumps head-first
Into the sucking mouth of the machine,
Where he is wedged and beat and cut to pieces—
While the people shout and run in the clouds of chaff,
Like lost mirages on the pelt of prairie.
The obliterating strangeness and the spaces
Are as hard to imagine as the love of death ...
Which is the love of an entire strangeness,
The contagious blankness of a quiet plain.
Imagine that a man, who had seen a prairie,
Should write a poem about a Dark or Shadow
That seemed to be both his, and the prairie’s—as if
The shadow proved that he was not a man,
But something that lived in quiet, like the grass.
Imagine that the man who writes that poem,
Stunned by the loneliness of that wide pelt,
Should prove to himself that he was like a shadow
Or like an animal living in the dark.
In the dark proof he finds in his poem, the man
Might come to think of himself as the very prairie,
The sod itself, not lonely, and immune to death.
None of this happens precisely as I try
To imagine that it does, in the empty plains,
And yet it happens in the imagination
Of part of the country: not in any place
More than another, on the map, but rather
Like a place, where you and I have never been
And need to try to imagine—place like a prairie
Where immigrants, in the obliterating strangeness,
Thirst for the wide contagion of the shadow
Or prairie—where you and I, with our other ways,
More like the cities or the hills or trees,
Less like the clear blank spaces with their potential,
Are like strangers in a place we must imagine.
poem by Robert Pinsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Death Washes Only Bones
And death washes only bones;
The mouth of death speaks oft of every tounge
Never his patience once lost is found in all your nature;
Death washes a bone and the astrologer hands two back,
So the moon when lined up, shines down on Venus asleep.
Time smiles on the heart beating and long of face therein,
death puts it back on the middle shelf prearanged.
And death washes only bones;
Deep valleys are filled with man's rich oil,
And covered over memories by death too often dredged.
Lined up end to end exposed again to harvest the tears of wait;
And death washes only bones and man who drinks so bold,
There being no truth and lies sown shut death eyes all bottoms.
d.t.
poem by Is It Poetry
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A Death Of A Women
a death of a women is a lost for us
a lost of a great personality
a lost of some one special
a lost of a mother n a loving sister
a lost of a great wealth
a death of a women is full of cries
a death of a protected shield
a death of a key of paradise
a death of a trainer;
a taker carer
a death of a women,
is a death of our heaven
a death of a cheering smile
a death of a emotions n wishes
a death of a world!
poem by Angels beauty
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
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Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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