Dance Macabre by Frantisek Kupka
death is the mother of beauty, the stranger
a salesman, a constant companion
death is a debt — a sure bet
death is nothing at all
a cabaret, imminent, certain
only a dream
death is forever alive
death is a silence poetic exploration
of death / life creator
death is that man taking names
our physician
death is a season,
like a car, no bull in the air
a celebration
death is your art
death is loss
death is close?
death is my friend, my neighbor
death is death
—-
Sometimes when my muse is not cooperating I use googlism to find lines. This list-poetry is done just by rearranging what came out. The idea come from an old prompt on dVerse by Samuel Peralta.
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I like this idea–I struggle with my muse –but she often wins
What a poem! I like that and the googlism is a great idea to kick butt my muse from time to time, thanks!
what to do when the muse is not amused
and will not be abused
I didn’t know about googlism
might be an interesting resourse
cheers
jzb
Death may be a gateway…well said.
What a a paradox. I love thinking about death as an art. When it comes to life, natal and fatal are twins.
the only thing we are certain of
have a nice Tuesday
much love…
“death is the mother of beauty” … I could just sit and ponder this for a while.
I love the subtle switch from “Death of a Salesman” to “Death is a salesman.” That’s awesome.
“death is nothing at all
a cabaret” … Love this.
And this:
“death is that man taking names
our physician”
Perfect closing line.
I had forgotten googlisms……….this one works very well.
what a contrast of ideas death i…a cabaret stuck out to me…very intriguing…i love doing googlim because it comes up with contrasts and pairings we would never think of…
She is what she is, indeed. Ever present, ever living, always waiting at the end of everything…
I have reached the point in my life, attended many, many funerals, and spent a lot of time ruminating on death. Marlon Brando once made a comment along the lines of: I think when you are lying on your death bed and think back over your life, it occurs to you – “What the hell was that all about”. That remark has always resonated with me because, I don’t believe death does make sense of it all. It’s just death. Death is death.
I smiled some places here, Bjorn. I’ve done that with a list, generally like “Jim is” or “Jim does” and get some pretty interesting lines. I wouldn’t call it poetry but some might. You’ve embellished more than I did, it’s like a poem.
When we talk of our friends and that some of them might die soon, I say, “Put me on the list, I might soon.”
..
‘death is death’ and it has been a welcome friend in the end for several elderly relatives in our lives. Thought provoking poetry.
There is muxh that is really wonderful here, nonetheless, Bjorn. The opening lines are especially strong I thought. Thanks. K.
Many curious treasures may be found through the practice of googlism!
Death is Death … there’s a great deal to ponder about that but in the end the last line says it all. : )
You have really explored the subject in many different ways. There is the finality of the last stanza which shows death’s stark reality. DEATH IS DEATH.
True, death is many things to many people. Well done, Bjorn. — Suzanne
Death is…what a list. Very creative!
Death is that man taking names. Whoosh!