Clothes death poems and poems about death for Clothes. Read and share these heartfelt Clothes death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Clothes Poems.
clothes, death, irony, snow,
When out walking it started to snow
I’d forgotten to take my chapeau
With nothing on my head
Got frozen, soon lay dead
Hypothermia killed me you know!
As I was out walking in the snow contest
Sponsored by Kevin shaw
Dark humour for the contest
clothes, color, death, red,
There’s a lady dressed in white.
She smiles in the morning light.
There’s a man who’s dressed in brown.
He scowls as the sun goes down.
There’s a girl who’s dressed in blue
Who got her hands stuck in glue.
There’s a boy who’s dressed in red.
It’s not his clothes, he’s just dead.
allegory, clothes, confusion, dark, death, destiny, sad,
Shadowy souls, monotonous sounds.
Getting late. Patience has blackened out..
I stubbornly wait. Left my attitude behind.
Humble, not blasphemous.
Victim of my mercy.
Shivering glances and their colours dark.
Getting late. Time has blackened out.
I savor the feelings of urge. Left my intentions behind.
Challenger of my own decay,
yet not a nihilist of the others.
Poems the cracks, titles the rapists.
Getting late. Hallucinations have blackened out.
I ruined with tears. Left my motives behind.
Comedian, not played out,
parasitic entity of my mind.
analogy, appreciation, clothes, fashion, grief, humanity, sad,
Yet once loved.
brother, clothes, death, hope, humor, morning, simple,
Even in the last days you need clean clothes;
therefore you may be found in the laundry
mornings, small task against the larger one
of not breathing. With simple joy
men may forget to fear their deaths.
Six inches of snow reminds us of its dominance
in a pleasant way. Coming and going of sleep,
circling of the moon around the earth, earth
around the sun. The great man dies
and this makes death more noble for us all.
It is with joy that I accept the pains
that herald my end. I do my job well.
I go to the well and break the ice for water.
The bucket comes up full of dying wonder.
courage, dark, depression, faith, god, grief, growing up, hope, inspirational, journey, life, lonely, loss, lost, pain, people, places, recovery from..., sad, sorrow, sorry, stress, teen, woman, women, clothes,
Knows my real name
Is what I go by
I am freezing cold
I don’t have money
Just, the clothes on my back
I am a walking wardrobe
I am lonely
I smell like crap
I am starving hungry
I can’t find any shelter
My clothes are drenched
I look like a drowned rat!
Is classed normal
I will survive
To wake up
All over, again!
“Protect me tonight
As,I lay my head to rest”
“I love you, dear God”
books, clothes, death, growth, world,
Made In India
To live and die in a world of a teacher
And the taught was his solitary wish.
Plundered every treasury in all his books
Lavishly enriching his soul forever thirsty.
An aeronautical engineer
Lost being a pilot
Voted as President
To rule over every pilot.
Son of a boatman distributing newspapers
Simple living with half a dozen clothing
In the looming closets
Of his erstwhile Presidential chair.
Sleep slept over to follow his dream
To make India a super world power
The Missile Man shot far above the clouds
The world saluted Kalam who was Made In India.
September 9, 2015
Contest: Storm On The Spanish Main
loose threads, holes and worn spots
his story told in these old genes
left unworn for so long
beloved denim lives on
hidden beneath the casket lid
KNIT YOUR FABRIC - Poetry Contest
absence, beautiful, caregiving, clothes, first love, girlfriend, goodbye, grief, heart, heartbroken,
A tear falls down my face
He looks at me and wipes it away
Grabs my hand
And we begin to walk
The rain is falling
And the thunder burst
I feel so alone
Even tho he guides me along the way
His leather jacket covering me
Like it did every day
But today is not like it was before
the love I once felt doesn’t exist any more
The rain is cold and I begin to shake
The water covers my entire face
We see the end
Of the rode and us
But the rain continues
While I take the leather jacket off
clothes, death, food, future, poets, trust, visionary,
I want some more; I need more
money, clothing, and food. Give me more.
Stuff me full of chemically altered nutrition;
Dress me in flashy, and unnecessary, fabric;
Let me invest every cent I've earned
on more materialistic goods and services, maybe
I need control, but I want more.
change, clothes, conflict, confusion, death, mystery, silly,
Khaki pants fell down a well somewhere
We don't know where
We are not mapologists
It was deep, dry and empty but no longer
As stated, the pants are at the bottom now
Khaki pants had an occupant in them at the time
Obeying the laws of physics
One person at a time is all one pair of pants can fit
The person is no longer with us
Khaki pants do not fall on their own
Decisions come from higher powers
Perhaps the pants occupant put an end to it
Or simply slipped into the hole
We will never know
Khaki pants are strange
They come in tan and other colors
But have never been accused of murder
I still hold onto h i s o l d c l o t h e s I made,
stitch by stitch on grandma’s sewing machine-
Yellow lace around the neck with blue suede,
for this tragedy was so unforeseen.
That day my soul s h a t t e r e d-
Only his life mattered.
My heart pitter-pattered
seeing him die.
It was July,
angels did cry.
My fragile essence perished and decayed,
dreadful days are always stuck in between-
I whisper in a hush, “my life scattered…”,
T e a r s n e v e r d r y.
The Puzzle Of My Rhyme - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings
Date, May 24, 2018
clothes, color, funeral, mystery, seasons, snow, spring,
covers barren land white silk hiding all the shame a ghost until spring
bereavement, clothes, dad, death, emotions, family, grief,
decide … phone people … arrangements need made …
cannot pick … call who … where … when … oh, casket …
My world just stray-shattered fully dismayed
and pain’s pall stretch-burns me like thin plastic.
Blue morning just took Dad …
hued my fragile blunt-sad.
My brain’s left its launch pad;
no thoughts compose.
Tears full oppose
Now at Dad’s home, where his feel has not strayed,
my known hangs dreadful on vague creased tragic.
Whisper-feels of his old clothes hang scent-clad …
in love’s grief pose.
... CayCay Jennings
June 5, 2018
Ward-robe, things are stacked,
Jackets hang along the rack.
Stale smell of time that’s spent,
Designate the absent gent.
Practised shoes beside the door,
Cease to plod the polished floor.
A wallet emptied of its cash,
A modicum of the dead mans stash.
Buried deep beneath the clay,
He won’t be coming back today.
In this pouring rain
They take away our names
We march into these trains
Who are we to blame
To live in concentration camps
The light who shines is dim
We wear these cloths of death
character, clothes, conflict, death, fashion, murder, violence,
My own laughter could get me killed if bad guys
robbed me dressed in pants belted around their thighs.
December 2, 2019
caregiving, death, grief, loss, love, pain, wife,
“How Strange… it’s Hard for me to wash your clothes:
They will be put away for the last time…
They’ve stayed ten months in small piles, and, who knows?
They won’t be done, before I write this rhyme…”
I can’t give up her coat – she will be cold…
I can’t give up her jeans – what will she wear?
I can’t give her good care, and I can’t hold
Her… “Would you stay a little while? Your hair…
I miss the scent, when I would press my face
Against your sleeping shoulder, lie in bliss…
And now, one lock of hair, now empty space
On your side of the bed. I think I miss
You… O! The Travesty! Love – come to this!
But no, Love Lives! It’s the small things, like your kiss…”