Blank Verse death poems and poems about death for Blank Verse. Read and share these heartfelt Blank Verse death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Blank Verse Poems.
absence, death, emo, emotions, sorrow,
I sit alone in the dark
In the dark I sit alone
Nobody sees me
I see nobody
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
In this room, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water under my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I die and die every night
No one sees the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep
My mind is screaming
Is how I live
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
corruption, dark, death, funeral, jobs, lust, obituary,
The Secret of the Mortician
Dead, but I got eyes
Prepares my body at the morgue
Opens the chest
Drains the blood from its nudity
Admires my body before it decays
After The process of embalming
His hands run all over
I'm still dead
The next day
Writes an outstanding obituary
I sit on display
angst, destiny, introspection, pain, philosophy, poetry, september,
My shadow flirts with the sun
As I caress the darkness
We are one and separate
As my shadow smiles
Anxiety suffocates me
The shadow will soon fade
I shall die
One happy, one not
autumn, death, summer,
In primrose twilight, summer is still near.
She whispers in my ear; I hear her in
the one lone owl that hoots to only me.
I wake to find her shining through the clouds -
though breathing not so warmly on my cheek.
I glimpse her waning smile as in a field
I dance to soundless music in her sun.
My mind goes wandering, and in the breeze
I hear her sigh, for she is lingering
within the scent of asters that I pluck.
I’m hanging on to that one glint I see
of her before me in gold glitter dusk.
But in the cries of geese across the sky,
she calls goodbye, and sweet is her demise.
Dec. 2, 2016
for the Blank Verse Poetry Contest of Janice Canerdy
emotions, grief, introspection, loss, ocean, spiritual, uplifting,
with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.
beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.
the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.
in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.
analogy, death, poetry,
Rampant rain is ruining
lushness of my lawn.
Helpless I watch
strands of green drown
in shallow puddles.
Swamp like state creates
slush and sludge -
I remain stuck in the mud.
Wondering who will care
for my garden when
I am no more.
What will become of my roses?
Will my dahlia delight in the sun?
Or will I become a forget me not?
I remain content,
knowing erratic elements,
will never kill my words.
Spiteful winds will return crying
bitter raindrops to my musings.
Then they will disappear,
just like me - just like you.
Yet in the silence of death -
written words will forever remain.
3 November 2019
angst, death, father son,
Shimmering silhouettes haunt.
Shadow stands still,
observing his soul drift towards
the tree of melancholy.
Its morbid image stands silent,
but screams inside the mind.
I could write a million pensive poems,
yet the pen could never express,
how emotions remain unexplained,
because suppressed silent theories
and words left unspoken mean
regretful raindrops fall to the
rhythm of each somber sigh.
Tears create shallow streams,
but still we remain submerged.
Eight years on and I wonder,
if we will stay here forever.
18 November 2018
I will die eagerly,
ready to go,
surrounded by neons
faeries, elves, imps
I will die happily,
in my own way
lying next to my garden
surrounded by orbs
I will die gracefully,
gladly and fully ready
adoring the heavenly
ancestors who come fetch me.
I will die with a smile
remembering my phenomenal
fantastic make believe world
my family, and my friends.
Leo Larry Amadore
angst, childhood, death, depression, family, father, hope, introspection, life, loss, nostalgia,
Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.
With every breath I take my body aches,
When I lie in bed I feel my insides hurting.
With every reminder brings me pain.
No more can I find comfort in my home,
The cries of babies stains my mind.
I'm trying my best,
But of course from day to day hour to hour,
I find myself crying.
Memories that morning come to me every day,
Nurses surrounding me my doctor getting on her knees,
Her head looking down,
The thoughts that ran through my mind.
My life entering a new course,
One full of grieving.
He had my face,
My son, my beautiful angel.
He's watching me now,
He left me in tears but he is in my heart.
Connie Marcum Wong
bird, funeral, grief,
There they were, in the center of
our asphalt cul-de-sac street
circled around their dead companion,
four common myna birds, holding
their own semblance of a funeral.
I slowly backed out of my driveway
and passed by them in quiet reverie.
They didn't attempt to fly away or
even move as I passed by them.
Tears flooded my eyes as I realized
how much they were deeply grieving.
Their friend was truly loved and grieved
as we'd grieve the loss of a loved one.
Later on when I returned home the
dead bird was gone, and so were they.
© Connie Marcum Wong
inspirational, introspection, peace, sympathy,
Opened like a morning leaf
exposed beneath the moon,
Resting in the tentacles
of a clouded ink coccoon.
Wringing hands now rest at peace-
the solitude of night,
a lantern in the wilderness
the miracle of flight.
Dancing on the tabletops
or falling from a swing,
is noticing the networking
of every living thing.
Observation is the art
that shows a single frame,
experience will turn to stone
the given and the gained.
art, death, drink, lonely, philosophy, suicide, wine,
The easel beholds a half finishing painting
The paints beside have all hardened
Pain reflected in the partial emptiness
Staring back at that gathered crowd
The sun melts on the canvas page
Creation explained in elapsed rage
Notions and pleas from dried paintbrushes
Strewn across the almost barren floor
One to the other in whispered voice
I wonder if this would have been his choice?
Empty wine bottles twirling in light
Beside the dead body, a painting just right
There lies Art
His final painting
His last prose
angel, art, beauty, death, depression, loneliness, romantic,
The cemetery was
Before my very eyes, stillness
Autumn leaves a blanket on the dead
The cemetery was
There, as it always was there
From childhood till now
The cemetery was
For me, my escape, comfort and refuge
Among the strangers and the dead
The cemetery was
My pathway to the heavens
The gateway to my dreams
The cemetery was
Until that one fateful day
The bullet wasn’t even meant for you my love
You are dead none the less, beneath me
I, who weeps at your grave, lifeless too
Now the cemetery is my hell
Tormented by what ifs
I breathe the autumn frost only
That one day
Our daughter will become
cry, deep, grief, pain,
I do not always stay on top of the mountain
The room is empty, tears produce no sound
The silence answered with deep thoughts
Grief feels like to drown in the depths of darkness
In my quietest and lonely moments
As the black chords in a sad play
- Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
- Copyright © All Rights Reserved
lost love, love, sympathy,
Here in my room,
I lay in my bed,
With every thought of you,
Intruding my head,
Like snapshots in my brain,
Of the last thing you said,
My gut is violated,
And I twitch with rage,
I cannot free myself,
From this anxiety ridden cage,
And in this chapter of our life,
It seems I can't turn the page,
This torture is much worse,
Since you have been away,
I am so scared,
That away is where you'll stay,
And no matter how hard I try,
I will have to lay here in my room,
Alone one more day.
By Mac Holmes. Janettas grandson.
Written sitting in my room alone still waiting...
The soft breeze soughs softly through the tall cypress trees.
I stare at the tomb of my son, so long now dead.
How he loved to sail on gentle summer smooth seas,
How oft I wished I perished and died in his stead.
4 April 2019
Original title : Wretched Grief
Writing Challenge 1- April, 2019 - Its All About 8 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
submitted 30 May 2019
Arbitrium Divisa Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
POTD 1 June 2019
grief, life, mystery,
When the blackest nightmares were realized
and bitter truth pierced cracked, brittle armor
When candles of last hope flickered and faded
and darkness closed on the edge of vision
When despair careened towards insanity
and aching fists and fingers began to slip
When the abyss called, a mighty hand reached
and lifted me silent to higher ground
Patricia L Graham
bullying, dark, depression, grief, murder, poverty, time,
The hideous and the humble
Blood peppers falling snow
As world hurtles to the tipping point
Life chokes on ignited air
Wrenching love from hungry mouths
Stars fall without sound
Some weep helpless, day through night
Ever wondering how
Never knowing why ...
crazy, death, love,
The wolves howling at the height of his past life
As a strangled breath from the grave
The air feels heavy and smells rotten soil
He never forgot his great love
The woman who was his passion
Links and bells chime in the wind
The taste of vintage wine
His blood rushes through a gloriously red rose
The last restraint is gone
If death is a caress, what is life ?
His bride will be transported on a white horse
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Dusk feels suffocating
From flowering to dust
A race against death
No bluebells on meadow
The stars are resting and angels smiling
A journey through darkness
Where are the fireflies with their yellow hands
One last deep breath
The cold does not hide the truth
Wordless at the grave
... Wing beat of a bird breaks the silence
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
death, family, funeral, tribute,
Written by Gail DeBole
In memory of my grandfather
Nice Day For a Funeral
(You were always old. I can't remember a
time when you were not.)
(And you had no past before the first time I
became aware of your presence.)
(The weather huddled the mourners together.
It was a cold day, but the sun was out to pay its respects, also.)
(I huddled with the rest. Echos of
the service left a sad taste in my soul.)
(The Rabbi had spoken of you like an old friend.)
(And convinced me of your close
lifelong brotherhood with him.)
art, death, gothic, introspection, lost love, love hurts, romance,
The road ends here
Grave of bones
I reached out to caress
The past, and her sweet heart so blessed
Tears water down flowers, that one day shall wilt
For even they, gave up on loves bloom
I have been devoid of heart long ago
Dead to the living
Living for the dead
Love does that, so do not dread
She, who stole the essence of me,
Where ever she shall be buried
My bones may lie over yonder
My heart lies heavy, with the phantom of she
The past burying all, to the one and last
Alone under grey washed gravestone
At long last
analogy, birth, creation, devotion, earth, flower, nature,
Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower
absence, animal, christian, death, encouraging, sympathy, uplifting,
Though my stall here is empty now
If you listen close...
You can hear me running through a greener pasture
Your sorrow opens the gate and releases me free
Thank you for rescuing me from worldly darkness
And giving me love unsurpassed
So that I may now run with others so loved...
But never forgotten
I am a child again young and lean my spirit afire
And oh how our spirits thrive here
Never again to feel the pain of the earth
Hear me running!
For your tears have watered the grasses for me
In God's Greener Pasture
-originally written for Kae Surrah
an Arab rescue mare