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Poems On / About DEATH  2/1/2015 10:38:36 AM
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Best Poems About / On DEATH
 
 
 
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  89.     

Death

Death is always there with us twenty-four hours a day.
Death is there even you’re heath is good. Death has no love and gay.
Death is there even at work death is dangerous and our enemy.
When we die there is no love, no jealousy and no envy.

Death could happen even to sweet little babies, or cute little kids.
Death should be always with us, but we need to be ready like a kid.
Death has never postponed any time or place. But death is terrible to us.
Death is terrible to us especially sleeping at night under an open window unaware and thinking that there will be death.
Death should be like a dog then when it turns mad is bites! We must be aware of death.

Death is terrible!
 
sarangee son

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  90.     

'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,
and many,
many are deaths executions from death's weepy milked eye.
 
Is It Poetry

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  91.     

Death

Bottomless chasm is death,
Mysterious black-hole,
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,
Divine road-roller
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,
Interpret some;
Death is cleansing cycle,
Orientals vouch;
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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  92.     

The Art of Death

Death by murder- death by chance
Death by secret night romance
Death by number- paint the lines
Death in color, or black and lie
Accidental- planned, prolonged
Death by always doing wrong
Death by self- a timeless art
Death by one last broken heart
 
Jessy Liz

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Poems On / About DEATH