Death poems
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Death sets a Thing significant
© Emily Dickinson
Death sets a Thing significant
The Eye had hurried by
Except a perished Creature
Entreat us tenderly
That after Horror -- that 'twas us
© Emily Dickinson
That after Horror -- that 'twas us --
That passed the mouldering Pier --
Just as the Granite Crumb let go --
Our Savior, by a Hair --
The Bustle in a House
© Emily Dickinson
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon Earth --
I cannot live with You --
© Emily Dickinson
I cannot live with You --
It would be Life --
And Life is over there --
Behind the Shelf
It was not Death, for I stood up,
© Emily Dickinson
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down --
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
There's a certain Slant of light,
© Emily Dickinson
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons --
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes --
There is a solitude of space
© Emily Dickinson
There is a solitude of space
A solitude of sea
A solitude of death, but these
Society shall be
There's been a Death, in the Opposite House,
© Emily Dickinson
There's been a Death, in the Opposite House,
As lately as Today --
I know it, by the numb look
Such Houses have -- alway --
Awake ye muses nine
© Emily Dickinson
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
Because I could not stop for Death
© Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
And Immortality.
The house where I was born (10)
© Yves Bonnefoy
And then life; and once again
A house where I was born. Around us
The granary above what once had been a church,
The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds,
A Sweltering Day In Australia
© Mark Twain
The Bombola faints in the hot Bowral tree,
Where fierce Mullengudgery's smothering fires
Far from the breezes of Coolgardie
Burn ghastly and blue as the day expires;
The Widening Spell Of Leaves
© Larry Levis
--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968
--for my brotherOnce, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill.
I was driving south toward a large city famous
For so little it had a replica, in concrete,
On Faith
© Cecilia Woloch
How do people stay true to each other?
When I think of my parents all those years
in the unmade bed of their marriage, not ever
longing for anything else or: no, they must
When I Suspected
© Spike Milligan
There will be a time when it will end.
Be it parting
Be it death
So each passing minute with you
Unto Us...
© Spike Milligan
Somewhere at some time
They committed themselves to me
And so, I was!
Small, but I WAS!
Me
© Spike Milligan
Born screaming small into this world-
Living I am.
Occupational therapy twixt birth and death-
What was I before?
InheritanceHis
© Audre Lorde
Does an image of return
wealthy and triumphant
warm your chilblained fingers
as you count coins in the Manhattan snow
or is it only Linda
who dreams of home?
Never To Dream Of Spiders
© Audre Lorde
Once the renegade flesh was gone
fall air lay against my face
sharp and blue as a needle
but the rain fell through October
and death lay a condemnation
within my blood.
The Good Man in Hell
© Edwin Muir
If a good man were ever housed in Hell
By needful error of the qualities,
Perhaps to prove the rule or shame the devil,
Or speak the truth only a stranger sees,
