I have been writing poetry for twenty years. Best poems and poets of 2004 International Library of Congress.Google/AdSense, Hubpages Author
Life and Death In Poetry
Much poetry glosses over life and its joys, fate, destiny, our place in the Universe, illusion, pain without reason and the cruel element of life.
The specific themes vary, but to sing, to cry or to speculate - in a philosophical form - about the life and its meaning is part of the repertoire of dozens of great writers.
Poetry – either in its most common form, or in prose – often comprises an existentialist or philosophical content or trace.
Life represents a juvenile and optimistic way of feeling the live. It can be seen as a rather childish and naive view of life, far from the depth of other views, but it can also be seen as an unpretentious way of sensing the world, with all the intense and positive feelings and meaning that only the young can attribute to life.
Everyone has there own ideas of what happens after you die. Some believe in an afterlife and others believe in Scientology. The idea that we are all from a long chain of intelligent animal breeding. Playing with a dna strands is a lot easier then most common people think in the world of science today. A good example of this if the movie Jurassic Park. Either way, people long to figure out the meaning of life. Is there life after death ? Simple questions all human beings ask themselves at one point in their lives. Relaying these feelings of life and death has been in the world of poetry for centuries!
Emily Dickinson : Death Poem
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Life After Death III
I drench my mind with wisdom,
so, at anytime poetry is what I can give them.
I spare the knowledge of a poet,
never being afraid to show it.
I give diversity to words I speak,
with a spark to reach the peak we seek.
Then, I soak my art eternally,
in the mind and hearts of readers.
I still have not found,
the mark high enough to be a leader!
So, when the time comes,
that scum death freezes my poetic soul;
Visions with words I told will be forever observed!
Time is but a storm,
death be the length it lasts.
Eventually, another will form,
showing the soul of immortality!
Life After Death
Pondering In solitude,
stirring up a spell.
A continuous chamber,
evolving the depths of a bottomless well.
In due time destiny be to die.
Yet, words from a poet,
burn the rectum of readers' eyes.
Like salt water,
fizzles into sand only to rest.
Possess me ways to speak,
life after death until none of me is left.
Forever in the mind and chest of readers.
Life after death II
Death does not sympathize
ignoring to apologize before it arrives.
It spares the eye just a blink
with a blank mind trying to think.
The term to me loses its buzz
like the bee after injecting its sting.
Therefore, the word be a stale thought to me.
I've supported many thoughts
a poets' indelible mark in history.
Death is in for a surprise
the day he takes my life.
You can deprive my heart to beat;
Elysium will still
hear the words I speak.
Life after Death IIII
If I die tonight,
God, carry on my poetic light.
So when I am gone,
they remember my life.
I gave all my heart,
to reach unknown heights!
I gave my entire soul,
to my God and almighty Lord.
Now my dreams,
are on replay and record!
Bless me father,
I live and die by your sword.
The sun gradually rise,
enlightening all the meadows wide.
An eagle glides through the sky,
visualizing the deepest valleys to dive.
Armageddons horses rumble to thee,
lifting off from a field of asphodels.
The golden pointers,
slow in speed, as the gates of Hell open.
Clutching each rein at the helm,
is Hades the torturer of evil deeds.
He has heard the old sophistries,
yet, propelled from Hell fire and misery.
Lying on my deathbed,
the instant my veins pump no more.
He will thrum upon the door,
late to Gods assumption of my soul.
In The End
My poetry must glimmer with a shine,
like stars that captivate the eyes at night.
A sight so bright with energy,
I figured I might let me pen learn,
the secrets to its beautiful longevity!
deep in the Ocean Sea,
critters roam the floors,
unknown different breeds,
They are just unknowns,
like some poetry that shed my pen.
Eventually, they will be found,
like words drift with meaning in the End!
When I be buried in depths of natures core,
my loved and cherished ones need not worry.
Mother Nature will patch the wounds,
of the reaper's illness,
simply curing deaths stillness.
See me off too depths of Elysium.
Though your naked eye is blind to thee,
I promise to watch over an Angel that meant the world to me.
Buried upside down
From day to night,
I relay my poetic sight.
I use all my might,
so that my heart shines bright.
Until the day I die!
My wide eyes close,
going where no one knows.
I will give my views,
like a reporter does the news.
I will stick with poetry
like white does to glue.
I was nothing special,
ever since the day I was born.
When I die,
not a soul in this world will morn!
Blending in a populated era,
don't be common like a flower to the bee.
Or just another fish,
swimming around in world of adversity.
Can God recall his children by memory?
All of us by a certain quality?
Or was your story made falsely?
Hopefully cluttered in his mind,
he can recall his sons or daughters at anytime.
Inside our veins flow his breath.
His children he sacrificed his life for upon death!
Foutain of Youth
What is the point
and meaning to life?
To find a median,
living just right.
Fight for a place,
within different races of the world.
Die, after being controlled,
by a higher anarchy that patrol.
Your family and friends,
will pass on your life in ways.
But, after they're gone,
your name will be lost,
the same old song !
You sit high on your throne of faith.
Humans fear animals for they can't relate!
Solomon will weep the strangled truth.
Sickened by mixture of God's with a noose.
Who has the Solution to this pollution?
Ready for Asmodeus to take shape~~?
To see the BLUE ROSE would surely seal your fate!
Your spells can't harm or charm me.
Within one-hundred feet my Ruby Red rod is at its peak!
Every gate requires a special key to my brother's of eternity.
I can change nine Layers of a cake if terrain is not satisfactory!
I am humble and relaxed with the speech craft of lasting faith.
I control armies and souls casting fear is the wraith!
Hope vs. despair...
Light vs. dark...
Out of the Sea the serpent shall come numb to any wounds.
Military weapons and suggestions will never do!
The beast is marked on the hand to grip any coffee that brew.
They knew he was special transporting spirits back to replenish the ranks.
The manipulator and grandmaster getting stripes over checks, Bank!
A part of me regrets only my souls that feel neglect, until I protect!
Spiritual Currency is owed as so is my crown on patrol.
I hit the quota brothers, now, they can have their Lord!
The cleansing of the filthy world will happen accordingly to me, RCB.
I am the the torcherer of evil deeds.
I am done with accepting ideas from snakes in the WEEDS.
My skin shed tremble you insects into crumbled leaves!
I know your lost so remember I'm hungry and feed.
Off every emotion they ever stole from my heart that beat.
© 2018 Ryan Christopher Beitler