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Poems On / About DEATH  1/26/2015 2:27:29 PM
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Best Poems About / On DEATH
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Prepare For Death

The greatest business of life is to prepare for death.
Keep your eyes fixed on the end of life.
What we call life is a journey to death,
and what we call death is a passport to life.

Death borders upon our birth,
and our cradle stands in our grave.
The old have death before their face,
and the young oblivious of the death wave.

Dying is as natural as living.
Death spares neither the wealthy or poor,
and is deaf, and hears no denial.
Hardships at our door - death at another door.

Death has nothing terrible in it,
but what life has made it so.
We are dying gradually as we struggle to live.
Life is labor, death is rest for the soul.

Death is the great leveller,
and keeps no almanac to record fame.
All good men and women will eventually die,
but death can not veto their name.
Joseph T. Renaldi

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Death-The constant Companion

Every life ends with death
Yet unknown is the complexity!
Death is an enigma! Death is a companion!
Death is the answer! Death is the beginning!

Complexity is a constant confusion
Certain to happen everyone knows
When and how no one knows

Mystery indeed origin of death
Saints and sages tried to know
Nothing to find walked into death

Escorts the death from our birth
Goes with us where shadows can’t
Inseparable it’s and beyond imagination

Troubles and traumas ends with death
So are comforts and luxuries
Veil of soul blown off by death

Existing life ends with death
New journey begins after death
New fate decides course of that life!
Somanathan Iyer

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Death Married Death To Death

Death looks at the flower, and it screams,
I am wet, moist and beautiful, look at me.
Why do I stand here alone, come and beat me,
I will wait, I will wait you must come over here to speak.
Death hovers, smiling, winking and always talking,
and by you walking, knowing that, this time is yours
there is no rest, that death must ignore you as well.
Any thing that you touch will also never die, neglected.
Death is love, love is death, why are you both, here.
Death is your pet pink pig, two flying pearls,
slapping against deaths face.
Death is a dry cracked nipple, asleep, holding on until
the flesh falls off and the milk is yellow and dry..
Death is a bullet fixed, never moving, and why does the
world move you through it always with impertinence to show..
Death is a mysterious voice, so disturbing and your quite,
coming aligns along the border, sounding alarms to no one,
while you walk across the street knowing you never look
at death as it comes over to you while you talk to some
one else never paying attention and embarrassed death
again leaves you to rest over some other you know.
Death is reaching in your casket and squeezing dry cotton,
and holding it's nose while he wipes your face from above.
Death is a woman, who is happy, thinking the world is
spinning into her fruit cake while death drinks coffee.
Death to all men who think they can save the woman
by marring death and eating her tuna fish sandwich.
Death fingered you, and you loved it, now you finger me,
leaving a bee exposed on your flower, that decays..saying,
Death's own flower it's always sweet and poignant and..
Death is always waiting for you to open and smell them.......
Death is more than the lilies and roses, it crawls out of one,
and comes out of the other and covers the worm with lilacs.
Is It Poetry

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Life Is Death

Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
Man born of woman has a short time to live
As we flee to live, towards death we run
We come of age with the beauty of life
Just to be mown down like a matured tree
Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
Though we fill our days up with activities
We have an important date to keep
One that we cannot forget to attend
Nor decide to neglect, a date which is
A date with death…
Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
Our life is bitty
Our experience: a shattered mirror
A musician - music, a writer - writing,
Life has different versions of living it to the fullest
So what is life? - Meaningless to me
Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
‘Cos we live more or less in today
And tomorrow can be the last of our days
With our future the most unclear
And all our life, waiting for death
Death is a sweet thing
Whoever discovered suicide is a genius
Whoever cries over death is a bastard
For we are made to die
Leave the one that died today; he is safe
Think about your date with death
And change your ways, so that you will live on
Not in flesh but in the minds of men
Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
Whoever lives today is preparing to die
So live every minute like the next will be the date
Live not in fear but as a man ready to embrace
So do good and in all your doings be good
Let me go out with glory
Let not I be shamed in death
Let a smile end my last days
Let me hear in death 'he was a good man'
Let my passing out be a delight
And when the date comes,
With an embrace, will I go out to meet him
Till the darkness becomes brightest
Till the fire goes out with the last flicker
Let me live today and die tomorrow
Let me use all the good in me for men
And make better the flocks of men that lives
Till then I will always remember
Life is death, death is life
To live is to die and to die is to live
Adedeji Ologbenla

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Poems On / About DEATH