#grave poems on Hello Poetry

lex Aug 2017

flowers

the dusty fake flowers
on the grave
remind me of
how i thought you were eternal

i miss you greatly but i can't do anything about it

#sad #death #grave #flowers #fake

Seema Aug 2017

I was suffocating in my grave
So I sat up on my tombstone
All others seemed to be sleeping
Only I was sitting all alone

A soulless spirit of a dead
Is what I have become
After meeting with my death
I became useless and numb

My body lay covered in blood
And went unnoticed for hours
Till then rigormortis started
Wilting like the fallen flowers

I was stabbed multiple times
Before being thrown in the drain
Robbers snatched everything
And left me dead in the rain

It surely was not my death call,
To die early than my actual time
Now I dwell in this spirit form
Remembering the hideous crime...

©sim

God is watching!

#crime #death #spirit #blood #soul #dead #grave

Seema Aug 2017

Fallen Flowers

Fallen flowers on my grave
The most favorite of them all
I am not there to receive it
Please let those petals fall

A bunch of fresh tulips
With mesmerizing flavored scent
Thank you for your kindness
I know it's with love, you meant

The words you spoke slowly
Sitting beside my fresh grave
I know you are too broken
Please take care and be brave

Sickness, life and death
Is not a puppet played by men
It gets to one and eats them up
Tomorrow it could be your turn

I am free from the miseries
Of the incurable sickness
I do hope you settle now
My death,
should not be your weakness!

©sim

Fiction

#fallen #death #grave #life

Seema Aug 2017

Out From The Grave

Nails in my cofin
Rusted from within
A bearing hatred
Dissolved with my sin
You planted flowers
On my isolated silent grave
Then sat for hours
Telling me to be brave
The flowers dripped ink
Which you poured from above
The ink sipped to sink
Into my skin, to paint your love
In my veins, a new blood
A new me, began to merge
My body swaying in ink flood
O' master, I am ready to serve!

©sim

Fiction.

#grave #sin #hatred #dead

Seema Aug 2017

Her Flowery Grave

He was a lonely boy
Always fixing a broken toy
Dirt covered his face
Old shoes with no lace
But he wore them today
It was his sisters birthday
And he was fixing her doll
Someone gave a sudden call
Which left him in tears
Then came his darkest fears
His mother's voice shouting
Crying, his sense undoubting
He pretended not to hear
It was a special day of the year
He was going to see her
At the foot of the hill, afar
She lived there alone
In the cold, under a tombstone
Last year, he planted flowers
When bloomed, he sat there for hours
Today he's got her another gift
Her favorite doll that came adrift
By a narrow creek nearby
He always wondered why
His beautiful sister got taken away
Far to be buried, where she lay
Alone, along the plain meadows
Where lived now the shadows
Of those dead, buried in ground
Where huge raintrees surround
He picked her favorite flowers
And walked towards the stone towers
There a flowery grave waited
To be visited and weeded
After done with clearing
He sat there grieving and tearing
Telling her stories of his life
How often he's threatened with a knife
But with a smile, he promised to be brave
As he curled up, beside his sisters grave...

©sim

Can you picture this :)

#grave #grieve #life #death #fears #tears #loneliness #broken

Christopher Hendrix Aug 2017

Poem between lines of Tretheway's "Graveyard Blues"

It rained the whole time we were laying her down;

Plucked from earth to elsewhere, some fantasy. She left like water after a rain, running to the sun to again slide down. And it

Rained from church to grave when we put her down.

Soaked the soil, left it muddied. Someone stifled a cry but the wet and cold made it sound like a sinus problem. There was something funny about it, but not in that moment. There,

The **** of mud at our feet was a hollow sound.

"Graveyard Blues" is by Natasha Tretheway, from her 2006 collection Native Guard.

#rain #cry #tretheway #grave #funeral

Seema Jul 2017

Wandering Soul

An old hollow bowl
Inside it, a dead owl
Filled with charcoal
Buried in a hole
Under the light pole
On the crossroads
Opposite the graves
Near the witches dome
Where believed,
The dark spirits roam
I know this, coz I am,
A wandering soul
Others, the witches stole
I am a carefree witness
I saw, what he did
I saw what all he buried
I also saw the body he hid
And he thought,
Nobody saw his deeds
Planting a dead owl as a seed
Like some secret treasure
That no one can find
I looked closely
He buried, jewels of all kind
He has no idea,
What he had done!
The witch knows it all
Soon it will be his call
My friend, beware
Of the watchful unknown
There's an empty grave
Waiting,
With your name alone!

©sim

#soul #wandering #dead #grave #dark #spirit #witch

Seema Jul 2017

Ruin Of Memories

She, who hides in the shadows
Wearing several mask on her face
Observe her rigid scaly hands
She lives in a dark lonely place
Away from the wickedness
In her own world of sorrow
Each day she gets near a grave
Doubting if the sun will rise tomorrow
Her eyes, sunken like a dried well
Neither a single drop of tear,
Pours down her wrinkled face
Nor a single sign of worry and fear,
One can ever imagine to trace
It's hard to tell, what weighs more
As my eyes sees her outside pain
Inside must be a ruin of memories
Like a barren land, without rain
She lost everything and everyone
Now she's almost like a living tomb
The landslide during an earthquake
Buried her family in the natures womb
Once lively, full of lifes happiness
One disaster, and everything fell apart
Shocked of being alive and alone
Shattered was her fragile heart...

©sim

I wrote this, after I watched few documentaries based on earthquake and how people suffer the aftermath. When nature gets angry, it never shows any remorse or sorry!

#lonely #wicked #grave #sorrow #pain #tears #memories #ruins

Seema Jul 2017

Grave (Tanka #8)

Solid bricks stand to
guard an empty open grave,
in an old graveyard.
What lay beneath?, what we seek?
One, can only imagine!

©sim

Tanka
5-7-5-7-7 syllables

#tanka #grave #empty