|Best Poems About / On DEATH
Learning to Die
Death is not sudden, death does not grieve,
Death takes a while to achieve.
Death comes in layers;
Death is the mouse
From under the couch
At three am, and from under the stairs.
Death is the tumour on my mothers skin,
Death is a jackhammer pounding in.
Death is a scrabbling crab on all fours,
Death is a jaguar on rough padded paws,
Lurking in the oven doors,
And hiding in the bureau drawers.
Death is the lump within my breast,
Death is the invited dinner guest.
Death is the cadaver,
A slab of cold meat
That lies on a plate.
Death is the wall of frozen sleet.
Death to me comes much too late.
Read more poems from Caroline Misner >>>
'Death' is when 'You' milk 'It'
'Death' is when 'You' milk 'It' and milk it, milked
and you drive it, forever and ever,
upward and upward and never down ward, insane.
Death is two silky hands covered in hot burning oil,
that start at the base and death loves to covers each lamp.
While the flame burns inside the brown paper bag exposed.
Pushing death deep without compassion through the pale
full moon, as death walks around, ignoring your cries.
Heaven for death and coming so close to death you find.
Death makes you come over to your friends house once
again, in your mind while those pearls in the bag,
are laid up on the shelf that you share, with deaths pink pig.
Death moves both horns closer, driven unforgiving together,
one here and one there, ever closer, untiring you are laid out as art.
Death knows when the sky is on fire, say it again and again.
Death and truth, death is like an epileptic seizure,
when more than those silky soft hands,
never moved all the way down,
and a river of hot molten 'death' sprays,
in your hair each black day.
Death is as proud..and as proud of you, Death is,
as you splash it around, all about town,
Death and 'Death's' protein mask so tight, you peel it off.
Death was just the tip of the ice burg and death melted it,
with death's thick and full, red buried, unyielding lips.
'You' love to have your fun with death, as you milk it over
and over, the milk never expires, death never tires,
many are deaths executions from death's weepy milked eye.
Is It Poetry
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Bottomless chasm is death,
Where and when of it none know;
Is death an end itself
Or a passage to new world,
Science never understood;
Only death is deathless,
Death is birthless,
Only death is the known eternal truth;
Man discovered atoms, galaxies,
But not death any time,
For, death transcends them all.
Death is black lightning,
Comes in flash and goes,
Leaving devastation behind;
From where it comes,
Where it takes,
No clues left behind;
Death is true equaliser,
At time's sovereign call;
Noncorruptible is death,
Money or power never bothers it,
Death swallows all.
Is death naught,
Or death all
Is a philosopher's riddle;
But, death is real,
More real than life
Is everybody's fear;
Death is merciless,
Death is punctual,
None defy the death;
Death is king of lives,
Fearsome to the core,
Yet, loyal to time.
Death is disintegration,
Death is cleansing cycle,
Truth is, none entered death
And returned and explained -
What really death is;
Truth is, constant friend of all,
Death is constant shadow of life,
Yet, none really know it at all -
Only that death is the rebound of life
In evolution's onward thrust.
Praveen Kumar In Celestial Glow
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When life gives us our first breath
Standing by is our own death
When we breathe our first sigh
We know not our destiny is to die
Life cannot be without death - you see
Life invigorates us to our core
Death extinguishes life to be sure
Yet we cannot have life fully
'Til we know death
Death and life are old inseparable friends
Wherever life is in the house
Death is near the window or door
The unity of breath and death is this
For life to live some must die
Death allows life to survive
How we address this interplay
Is the story of each life each day.
Claude H Oliver II
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