By Luke Allan
1. This morning the nurse tested me for allergies. She said she’d test for “known allergies,” which …
Explore Poems: Death
Showing 1-20 of 2,113 poems
- By Jane ZwartWhen death comes, final and novel—
the trick cul-de-sac or burst dam, a door
that opening erases or shutting… - By Georgio RussellWithin this simple chapel, located near the navel
of the little clinic, the walls are all the white
of… - By Rochelle Hurt[as jumping from a plane. easier—a bridge. as tripping on a shoelace. as blinking your eyes. as breathing…
- By CAConradeveryone’s drawing the Death Card the chair pressing
- By Dan Beachy-QuickI created more loss where I meant to make less.
Created more debt where I meant to make depth.
Created… - By Paisley RekdalYou’d never call the branches
arms, though in certain
lights don’t pine and man
look like hands
conjoined… - By Ross WhiteI’m not the first man to lose his father
slowly, not the first to wonder
when I walk in the room if the… - By Tiffany HsiehI was a forty-one-year-old rabbit
that year, which was said to be unlucky
for the rabbits to go face-to… - By Zhang Xian相离徒有相逢梦。门外马蹄尘已动。
怨歌留待醉时听，远⽬不堪空际送。
今宵风⽉知谁共。声咽琵琶槽上凤。
⼈⽣⽆物⽐多情，江⽔不深⼭不重。 - By Zhang XianTranslated By Shangyang Fangto the tune “mu lan hua: magnolia”
After tonight, what’s left of you is you
moving into my dream. Outside… - By Xin Qiji甚矣吾衰矣。
怅平⽣、交游零落，只今余⼏！
⽩发空垂三千丈，⼀笑⼈间万事。
问何物、能令公喜？
我见青⼭多妩媚，料青⼭见我应如是。
情与貌，略相似。
⼀尊搔⾸东窗⾥。
想渊明、《停云》诗就，此时风味。
江左沉酣求名者… - By Xin QijiTranslated By Shangyang Fangto the tune “he xin lang: toasting the bridegroom”Now that I am old and those who crossed the mountains…
- By Mitchell GlazierQueenly swans nudge eternity figs
Yellow rose fire
Lit by a ghost breath
I’ve eaten you someplace before… - By Mickie KennedyA house with a pool missing tiles.
Another house, foundation cracked,
the whole left half off-kilter,
like… - By Kimberly Johnsoni
The last time I lost you, I had turned
To salt. The hospice nurses all assured
An easier passing… - By Chris Hoshnicxxx
In the truck at his funeral time catches up to me / beaks me into
opaque-ness / a cog in the… - By Tacey M. AtsittyPulp lines the lips, blood
orange smoothie unfolds itself
slowly down the throat.
Air bubbles try to settle… - By Malcolm TariqYou may find her behind
Rowan Oak, a shadow
of fortress where then now
you find no real entry place. - By Meredith StrickerEvery morning opening the newspaper, I am faced
with the thin line that divides disaster and deprivation
from a world of luminous wealth. Tuesday, January 29th,
for instance, bodies, many of them children, lie on the ground
They drowned in the canal trying to escape a weapons depot fire
and explosion in Lagos. Their heads are twisted in straw and dust
near the feet of on-lookers whose cries we cannot hear