Related quotes: drowsy, that is the next...

Drowsy

drowsy, that is the next word
chosen by Dorothy, at the last day
of her stay in ward 9

six years of cancer she finally gets used
to slow death
i know that the pain is terrible but
she is finally tired showing the portraits
of her face in pain
many faces of agony

until the last day comes
she does not know what to say anymore

she embraces silence
death is no longer strange
she has it
piece by piece like a display
of her jewelries
from time to time sold
to sympathetic buyers
some friends who
know her &
love her for a time

when death comes
that moment
she is extremely
beautiful

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sorry Girl

but it is not my habit to
find out how you are doing when you are no longer there to greet me
when i arrive from a very long trip with someone else that you do not know
that you are not interested with
since it simply inflicts that pain
that you are getting used to

hello is strange word now.
it is not my friend, neither is the word goodbye

do not tell me that once i have said the word
i get tired of its face
the 'why' embedded in it
is perplexing
if at all i give it a thought
or a piece of my
mind

i like birds with strong wings
those that travel far away and do not come back

it they come back
they only bring memories
and sad stories

do i have to make a pool of tears again
where some 'unfit' organisms for a time swim and then die?

i like birds with claws those that know what wars to fight out there
sharp claws
that promise them to live some more years

do not underestimate my capacity for sorrow
my love for death

besides the birds i also have worms,
lots of worms as friends
they are too sympathetic to our causes
accommodating to our weariness

they know when to eat and rest
and sing the funeral hymns.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Death is when....

Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here

poem by A.J Smith
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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…'

The Reign of Death

Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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For Janet

Death
Terrible wretched death
See how she suffered
Pain all over her body
Wretched wretched death
Pain
Unspeakable pain
Life sucked right out of her
She died unmercifully

Satan is a terrible deceiver
She doesn't hurt anymore
She doesn't ache all over
She is smiles
All full of smiles now

Can't you see her smiling

She finally defeated the enemy
She's so pretty
Long wavy brown hair
Pulled to the side
She's running with a smile on her face
Running to her Jesus
To our Jesus

Pretty pretty lady
We'll see you soon

Date of death August 22,1993

poem by TerriJo James
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By the end of this...

By the end of this poem you will love death
because death is a figure of speech
as heaven and hell
to all that believe
they will be deceived

By the end of this stanza you will love death
you don't see death
he sees you
and who am I to say he?
he, she I don't know

My the end of this line you will love death
Death is your friend
when you are tired and sad
you can summon him
with the flick of a knife

by the end of this word you will love death
death is beautiful
don't deal with the pain
don't deny the beauty
don't sacrifice your life to living
something so insignificant
your ego will kill your pride

Now comes the truth
it was coming all along
Now at the end of this poem

...You love death

poem by Lady Viola Of The Grave
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Yes! Death is Beautiful!

for all the girls and guys out there
who fear death like anything and stare
up the sky and say their prayer
Oh God of death! Spare me, just spare!

for all the men and women I care
death for them, is not at all fair
Immense pain it gives, which they can't share
it takes away everything, makes them bare

to them I say, fear not the death
coz death is beautiful, it refines your breath
to breathe the bliss and smell the light
no days no night, dear, what a beautiful sight!

Death may be painful at first
but at end is just blissfull
agonizing body at first
the end experience, so wonderful!

Some sail through dark tunnel, lights at last
others flow above, high and fast
Some hear a melodious strange music
others.... divine experience, which God casts...

you feel like you never belonged here
A peaceful Destination is calling you there
and you're eager to go, be one among them
That's why dying people, they never have pain...

Death is like a commercial break
a transition period for a tired soul
tired from the game of life, we people play
Death is a comma(,) which refreshes the Soul...

Fear not the Death!
Coz it's the most beautiful thing
that can't happen to you again
and every precious moment and thing
comes witha little or more pain...

Yes! Death is Beautiful
Death is precious, so Rare
and comes with no clue
that's why we enjoy once
and that is True...

Death is Beautiful
Death is True...

poem by Soumya Dash
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Moving On

The cycle of life from birth to death
is different for everyone.
You count the days that are in between
and feel them come undone.
For some there are many.
For some there are few
and as they pass you think
'Boy time flew.'

I always think when I attend a wake
and see the body that's gone.
Wow they've finally escaped this scene
and I'm thankful they've moved on.
For I know there's a place
where they won't have to face
anymore pain,
anymore fear
of just having to stay right here.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Loneliness Is Like Cancer

loneliness is like cancer
you do not know the cause
it is there inside you
and you cannot see its face
and you cannot pinpoint
the cause
you cannot find the root
and its branches
but you can see its fruit

the ugliness of death
the poison that kills every nice part of you

but at the end
when everything is over
the cancer that causes you pain
can be that liberating

death is freedom
from pain and loneliness
and cancer is death
for all these
sufferings.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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.

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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.

D eath Crawl

death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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