Death poems

 / page 291 of 560 /
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The Mother

© Ruth Stone

Here where the rooms are dryly still
Who is this dustily asleep
While juicy children run the field?

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Bereavement

© William Lisle Bowles

Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet,

 Promised methought long days of bliss sincere!

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Misreading Housman

© Linda Pastan

On this first day of spring, snow

covers the fruit trees, mingling improbably 

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Young Afrikans

© Gwendolyn Brooks

Blacktime is time for chimeful
poemhood
but they decree a
jagged chiming now.

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the weather is hot on the back of my watch

© Charles Bukowski

the weather is hot on the back of my watch

which is down at Finkelstein’s

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Dolores (Notre-Dame des Sept Douleurs)

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Cold eyelids that hide like a jewel

 Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour;

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The Cave Painters

© Eamon Grennan

Holding only a handful of rushlight

they pressed deeper into the dark, at a crouch 

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Eclogue the Second: HASSAN; or, the Camel-driver.

© William Taylor Collins

  Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind,
The thirst or pinching hunger that I find!
Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage?
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?

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The Stream's Secret

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

 What thing unto mine ear
 Wouldst thou convey,—what secret thing,
O wandering water ever whispering?
 Surely thy speech shall be of her.
Thou water, O thou whispering wanderer,
 What message dost thou bring?

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Philosopher Orders Crispy Pork

© Heather McHugh

I love him so, this creature I do pray
was treated kindly. I will pay
as much as pig-lovers see fit

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Monody

© Arvind Krishna Mehrotra

To have known him, to have loved him


 After loneness long;

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Satire III

© John Donne

Kind pity chokes my spleen; brave scorn forbids

Those tears to issue which swell my eyelids;

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Paradise Lost: Book X

© Patrick Kavanagh

So having said, he thus to Eve in few:
"Say, Woman, what is this which thou hast done?"
To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelm'd,
Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge
Bold or loquacious, thus abash'd replied,
"The Serpent me beguil'd, and I did eat."

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Penumbra

© Amy Lowell

The old house will guard you,
As I have done.
Its walls and rooms will hold you,
And I shall whisper my thoughts and fancies 
As always,
From the pages of my books.

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Evening Angelus

© Joyce Sutphen

I have forgotten the words,

and therefore I shall not conceive

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Beowulf (modern English translation)

© Pierre Reverdy

LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings

of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,

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Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence

© Matthew Rohrer

I'm waiting for the Light Beings
to remove my roof.
Our bedroom is lousy with clothes
spelling out greetings if anyone's up there
who can read English.

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Epitaph on Elizabeth, L. H.

© Benjamin Jonson

Wouldst thou hear what man can say


In a little? Reader, stay.

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The Cleaving

© Li-Young Lee

He gossips like my grandmother, this man

with my face, and I could stand

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Passing Through

© Ai

“Earth is the birth of the blues,” sang Yellow Bertha, 

as she chopped cotton beside Mama Rose.