Tag Archives: poems about death

Penance

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11 
the wolf is at the door

he howls…I moan

he knows I am in here

afraid and all alone



the wolf is at the door

he claws the ancient wood

he knows I am behind it

he knows I will taste good



the wolf is at the door

his nose draws in my smell

tastes the sweetness of my fear

his appetite I will quell



the wolf is at the door

I rise to let him in

this night will witness penance

past time to pay for sins



the wolf is at the door

I gather my courage close

my fingers curl round the icy knob

I let in the lupine ghost



the wolf is in the door

he growls...I scream

thrust my dagger into his heart

carve out his bloody wet dream



the wolf is on the floor

I smile in satisfaction

he thought I would be an easy meal

too weak to take bold action



the wolf dies on the floor

no longer a threat to me

I write my name in his cooling blood

for other wolves to see

©2023 jai

Image by Peace,love,happiness from Pixabay

Rivers

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11 
In her life, she has crossed many rivers.
Some she swam with sure, steady strokes;
Some she walked over on burning bridges;
Some were so shallow, she easily waded.
But fording the last one, she almost drowned,
Failed to reach the other side.

The swift, black waters dragged her down,
Filled her lungs with life’s heartaches,
Then cast her battered body back to shore;
Left her choking, gasping, gagging,
Down, but not defeated.
Never defeated.

Older and wiser, she bided her time,
Waited at the river for the dire wolves to come drink,
And built a raft from their strong bones,
Made a cape from their warm, gray fur,
Then floated across the cold choppy surface
And stepped off safe and warm on the other side.

She fashioned a home from the raft bones,
Made a bed from the sleek fur cape,
And she abided there in the high desert
Content and happy as she grew old
Until the time came for her to leave.
For there was one more river yet to cross.

©2023 jai

Image by freddy urbina from Pixabay

I Wait

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16 
sprawl in a wrinkled, uneasy bed
old demons and new share the covers
they jabber and snicker, toss and turn
chase away forgetful sleep
eyes on the shadowed ceiling
I wait for sunrise…

pour a cup of bitter, black coffee
greet the ghosts of past friends and lovers
angry and accusing in their stony silence
tears slide down surly cheeks
eyes on the cold, damp floor
I wait for sunset…

pace dingy, dark, shuttered rooms
regrets, fuck-ups, and what-ifs gather
lamplight glints on gunmetal gray
what you sow, so shall you reap
eyes on the bore of eternity
I wait for death’s release

©️2023 jai

Image by eberhard grossgasteiger for rawpixel.com

Roads

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13 
a child knows nothing

about the consequences 

of the many roads

she will walk in life

until the end

when the last road is chosen 

and for better or worse

she arrives at her destination



old, with no more roads left to walk

she then ponders

those fearlessly taken

the ones passed by, unexplored

the hurtful ones

paved with nails and glass

and she realizes that long ago

she lost her way



too late now

she knows, over and over

she picked the wrong roads

always in a hurry

she veered left on a whim

right on a wish

and only has herself to blame

for this damned dead end



©2023 jai

Image by Markus Distelrath from Pixabay

Death Becomes Her

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4 
death becomes her...

smoothed the seams
that lined a tired face
erased the hurt
from eyes of green flint
hushed the blush
that colored angry cheeks
purged the pain
of a life, empty and spent

death becomes her…

hollow hope packed
its overstuffed bags
romantic ruminations
stepped out the door
borrowed tomorrows
went on vacation
and now sleeps serenely
‘neath sandy shores

©2023 jai

Image by Armando Orozco from Pixabay

Far From Home

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10 
a biting wind blows through wistful oaks
winter settles in her heart
far, far from home…happiness long gone
she covers sorrow with words and art

snow fills in the footprints of her youth
she digs them out every spring
happiness long gone…far, far from home
to erstwhile days, she stubbornly clings

her heart beats in sync with short, gray days
as her thoughts flow back in time
far, far from home…happiness long gone
she dreams of childhood, ever sublime

in this frigid land, ice fills her veins
a red sludge of days passed by
happiness long gone…far, far from home
soon, she prays, soon let my spirit fly

©2023 jai

ZaniLa Rhyme

Image by AnneBourbeau from Pixabay

Sweet Time

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18 
Listen now and heed me well
To this tragic, timeless tale—
We’ve all lost loved ones
To distance and death
And occasionally, to circumstance.
Or just by believing there was time,
Sweet, sweet time, always time,
To visit and while away that time.
Yes, all the time in the world,
Static, breathless, endless time
I believed—
When I was young.

Years pass by in the blink of an eye,
And you notice one day
How many have died.
Gone, all gone, with time’s treacherous tides,
Their scattered, ivory bones picked clean
And carried away into death’s dawn.
Time, sweet time, and them—
Now gone.

Time is not so sweet anymore,
You long for the grim reaper
To knock upon your door,
And drag you away,
You care not where,
Over here, over there, anywhere.
It makes no difference,
Any place will do
As long as it is far away
From this world now without you—
And you and you and you.
Far too many yous
Have stepped beyond the veil.
And you contemplate,
Anticipate—

Do they frolic upon some sandy shore,
No aches, no pains,
No worries anymore?
Is there a chair saved just for you
At the table where they meet?
All say a prayer upon that beach,
Good bread, good meat,
Good God, let’s eat.
Teeth young and sharp,
Do they tear into food?
And lusty, not rusty,
Into each other too?
And be not at the mercy
Of fickle, tricky time,
For in this hallowed place
There is no time.
Just laughter and love
And the joining of friends,
God knows I long for that—
As I long for the end.

©2023 jai

Image by clariston from Pixabay

Burn it Down

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2 
burn it all down, down to the ground
this turbulent house filled with scorn
a place where love cannot be found
emotions left will go unmourned

arrogant king can roast in hell
who will tell…? not this jezebel
gleefully, she’ll light the bedsheets
flee his castle, life now replete

©2023 jai

Italian Rispetto

Image by Николай Егошин from Pixabay