Paris death poems and poems about death for Paris. Read and share these heartfelt Paris death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Paris Poems.
culture, death, funeral, music, paris,
Death – Remember me Tomorrow
Votre amour est tout ce que j'implore
Angels took us from France's shores
To the promised land of lady liberty
Hollywood glitter enticing us lovers with mystery
Living the past in a cinematic telling
Ironic that love was sourly spurned
By Bogart’s charming quilted misgivings
Madeline, later would sadly sing
La Marseillaise, while lovers embrace
Paris after dark, they disappear with no trace
Trains to death and boats to freedom
As Casablanca tells of romantic tales
Je suis vieux, est je suis seul
The beautiful one misses the past and you
All the ships have sailed and gone
It’s the cemetery now where I rest under lawn
Connie Marcum Wong
anxiety, death, french, murder, sad,
hand of a
face down with flying
bullets spraying the room,
killing, striking so many
innocents frozen in terror.
As I fled I realized she was
dead from terrorist's merciless melee.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Note: I wrote this about a recent story on the news that
touched me deeply. I am praying for all those who are suffering.
addiction, books, family, freedom, god, grief, paris,
Toward the end of a book,
we tend to speed up,
in anticipation of the climatic finish.
was the part we savored,
on the perfect path
to the right...
THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS
Their skeletoned remains, in disarray,
are numbered more than any count can say
and from their numbers, Paris grew
to be what she has grown into,
each stone's been cut and raised from where it lay.
Down in the dark, beneath each cobblestone
there lays a death that no one should have known;
and their remains are dried, to last;
to be reminders of the past,
lest we forget what's raised the cornerstone.
And what has made all Paris so discrete
is every stone they raised up to the street;
and every bone that's stripped and bare
by time that's left them laying there
in their sarcophagus beneath our feet.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
death, grave, international, loneliness, philosophy, silence,
Heart of Paris
In Paris Tombs
Lays scented under lamp lit dark
Alone inside the carafe of wine
Pay the garcon
Pay the devils fine
I am both fat and thin
I am both rich and poor
I have books
Both written and read
Now over in the graveyard
Come read me dead
autumn, death, depression, food, french, heart, wine,
In the city of young lovers
Of those lost philosophers
I rushed there to be
Walking along ancient stone
I was flooded
The rains would not stop
Depressions grasp soon to make me drop
Surrounded by poetry
Buried in the authors plume
Black ink crawls all over
Devouring what little was left of me
Celts marched long ago
In footsteps I silently trace the sadness
The blood of angst fills me heart
I can no longer live inside those stories of lore
Rains keep falling
Rain pouring over me
Surrounded by books
I succumb to my death you know as
The Paris Floods
Drowned by poetry
Bombs and guns scythe through the innocent
writ in spattered blood evil intent
from youth's garden, saplings gone.
But staunchly rising from the killing floor
Liberty retakes the tricolour
strides a nation, marches on.
25th November 2015
For contest ' For Paris', sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
Written in Rime Couee form.
Just That Archaic Poet
death, life, night,
Too bright for sight,
This tunnel of light
A temple of Mind
In a life of Night
A ghost of Soul,
Too old to know
Life is Death is Life again,
(Oh, they told me so!)
*More experimental than anything
Constance La France
death, paris, sad,
Oh, it was a dark November evening,
that the innocent lay dead and dying,
some taken hostage.
Enjoying the evening so unaware,
of brain-washed terrorist who had no care,
for deathly carnage.
Forever in prayers and memory,
at Bataclan shooters had no mercy,
even at cafe's.
Suicide bombers at the Stade de France,
the city of Paris is in a trance,
and survivors pray.
November 23, 2015
Rime Couee - Tail Rhyme
For the contest, Rime Couee- Tail Rhyme Verse - For France,
Sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
Milan Georges Burovac
dark, innocence, life, paris, sensual, space, spiritual,
her of a soul
him to a body
living in the mind
thereby the I drama
where the Me negates death
praying a spacetime
on point One of Paris
death, evil, fear, french, horror, international, murder, paris,
Horrific evil captured world attention
Rationalization failed comprehension
Act of war ISIS terrorists
Long night of massacre and murder
Fear and realization of dreaded word
Hidden danger scariest
Reporters opined media replayed
Suspects apprehended within a day
Tales of bravery slowly told
World mourned for senseless tragedy in France
Information on suspects utmost importance
When or where next unknown
'Rime Couee - For France - Contest' By Debbie Guzzi
Milan Georges Burovac
beautiful, beauty, girl, paradise, paris, sexy, sympathy,
this is the loyal trail
here the street of fantasies
for beauties - the soft path
where the desire
whereby the caresses
for happiness by two
for pleasure by three
anger, courage, death, freedom, french, grief, light, love, paris, peace,
Humanity grieves with Paris, comforting her with sympathetic eyes;
the brutal attacks of November have reunited the City of Lights:
pictures, flowers and candles can attest!
Let the strongest ones seek revenge, and capture the fleeing coward;
always pray for freedom, pray for world peace and feel so empowered:
sing your Anthem, put your anger to rest!
angst, art, birth, death, introspection, philosophy, poetry,
Terrorists in Paris
What they talked about and were discussing
Were all the terrorists and how disgusting
Gunshots made in the form of rapid fire
Many injured and dying as they did expire.
Being blown up by an explosive device
Cost of lives were such a terrible price
Paid by those injured and who died
Somehow must be a changing of the tide.
God do keep these things from going on
And us much terror being thrust upon
God take control doing what must be done
Surely all of them allow us to kill everyone.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
africa, angel, faith, grief, metaphor, military, paris,
Rose, the bloom
Sweet in color,
eternal in fragrance,
majestic monarch of the flowers.
Kind lady in red,
a fine dress made of silk,
or sometimes sheer velvet,
floating ever gently in the breeze,
So much that I would say to you.
Time is not a friend.
robbed of every moment,
in the fraction of an instance.
Be cheerful, and sing.
Dance to music only played…softly.
Laugh lightly, whisper to birds.
Embrace all things new,
Patricia Garcia- Howard-Bramble
anger, bereavement, city, cry, death, family, hurt,
The streets are red
The wounds are deep
The world is now unable to sleep
Oh mother nature
I ask why.
Why today must so many die
Souls unknown, life stolen
Hearts broken, numbers increasing
Paris in mourning
Nations are talking.
Meetings are in progress.
Cities are raging
No ones believing
Signs are occurring
Wars are approaching
The end is at hand.
Humanity is fading
Pockets are profiting
No one’s noticing
The world is in mourning
Parisians are heartbroken.
~ Bells toll