Immortal bird
mouth gone down
towards the owl
she makes us see our passing
is common as ash
fine hands over the night
sing of what we serve
the stuff and flutter of living
more than others
Poems on the topic: death
Poems on the topic “death” on Poets.by.
Personal development
I make my death grow
into a room for others
in a narrow pit
there is no play
I must claim liberty
like a dancer
Suicidal tendencies
dead things lodging
in the garden grown out of order
a desire to be gone
which I am sorry for
like a sign in the wind
dancing with no will
Capital punishment
we go to see a man
hanged for robbery
I touch the dead body
with my bare hand
cold as silk
sleek as a seed
and I hear the fuddled
impossibility of a heart
the teeth that will never now
fall out
Your cheatin’ heart
what cheating rogues we are
already married to time
hard heart like a contract
none of us understood but the undertaker
who would not be content
with fair words
Fitness
to dine well is to live
I will be fit as an urn
Believer
I think that I should believe so I believe
every other day
in death
I admire that nothing
a plain picture hung on the wall
but I believe too in kindness
and a little talk
and a great deal of supper
Funk
cold coffee
I wonder how things would be
if I should die
Viewing
the dead servant
all morning dutiful
in a waistcoat
Living it up
Forgive me the sins of ancestors
good for a rare walk, in pleasant discourse
going by us in the field,
who we often see together
in street and in house
or lately come back again
from being hanged and buried.
Informer
I meet on a ledge
with two men hanged today.
We walk up and down.
The commissioners pay me
to be an informer on the dead
with my theater of clerks,
two mousetraps
and a rank-rot mouth.
Death of a queen
A candlestick coven
over her oven,
an ash and ham sandwich at table.
How much fault was laid
upon the doctor Death!
Going to sea,
the queen met her water.
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