Seahenge
tree upended
made to flower downward
into the dark sky of the dead
who feed & return
who stand in circles
& spring after spring resprout
leaves of malachite
Poems on the topic: death
Poems on the topic “death” on Poets.by.
Laredo
modern cowboy’s lament
You’re too florid, too weepy
for this sleepy street—
even the fireplug looks away.
The sidewalk should tip you off:
this ain’t no lone prairie.
Tumbleweeds never make it across I-35
so how the hell did you?
We’re proud of our values here—
especially our property values.
Only broke people walk
& to loiter is to litter.
We may wear big hats
as if at some point expecting
exposure to the elements
but for God’s sake, son,
Cold Front
With the cold front
came news of your death—
a failed bypass—
and a skim of snow
that vanishes at the sun’s touch.
Soon, only shadows are white,
like the letters
I keep trying to form
as my pen runs out of ink.
Initiation
Let him continue
in the ground, he
who is now dead,
where all things hurry—
a strange company
who seem to speak.
Let the pursers and clerks
make up their accounts,
the parson rest, and
the great night come
to sit with night.
Song of the Millipede
International Rock-Flipping Day 2010
I lived like a hundred-legged king
in the faceprint of an idol
who followed my every move.
What drew me to that house made of twilight,
whose rooster swelled like an ingrown toenail
trapped between toe & shoe
& never flew?
With floor turned ceiling,
where would the weather vein?
What rod would rout the lightning root?
Unreal estate no bank would back,
underwritten only by undertakers,
each inch of space had been stolen from a grave.
From time to time, I caught
the musky scent of soured hope
Sweet Nothing
Starving and unsatisfied
Everyone is slowly rotting
Trapped in decaying flesh
Time is lost in every moment
Till we burn out and nothing is left
The sweet illusions of love
Like a lucid dream
Feels so real
And then your life is ripped from your fingers
Time passes like water tricking down a stream
Like a balloon a child lets go
The enjoyment floats into the great nothing
We keep awake at night, wondering
Painful nothings fade away
And we face the real questions
Is love just a chemical reaction
I may be a corpse
Today I woke up cold .
I stood up and my limbs were stiff .
As stiff as terrible restaurant bread .
I got dressed and went to work only to be met by strange and terrified looks .
My boss called me into his office .
He was a strong man . But upon sight of me he turned pale as if he had seen a corpse .
He told me to have the day off .
So I decided to go to a date .
When she saw me she spewed vomit all over our table and shrieked and ran away .
I went home burdened with a heavy sadness .
Why did everyone look at me like I was some freak ??
I decided to look in a mirror to see what they saw .
And too my shock I was met with a pale grotesque corpse looking back .I think I may be a corpse .
* * *
Pain cuts like a knife,
Hard for me to breathe.
Knowing what happen,
Enable to believe.
Losing almost everything,
When he walked out the door.
Heart shattered to pieces,
Smashing to the floor.
Picking myself up,
After laying on the tile.
Overcome with hatred.
Feeling so vile.
Thoughts racing fast,
Zooming right by.
Many points in my life,
I wanted to die.
There was a little boy
Shy as can be
With no friends
Everyone in Elementary
Laughed and called him names
Not one was nice
There was a little gentle man
The same boy as before
Now in Junior High
But still no friends
More hateful people
But blocked it out from the music in his headphones
There was a gentle man
Same a before
Now in High School
Still treated like crap
But more and more
Sick
You lay there in a bed
At a hospital
While your loved ones visit you with your illness
And at last you pull yourself to say some words
" I Will Always Love-"
Now asleep
Forever
Really
Isn’t it a pleasure
To offer succor?
Oh yes, we are so genuine,
Touched to the heart
Feeling, we say, the same pain and sorrow
Though sometimes I wonder if we really do.
Be it death or a lesser misfortune
We condole, condemn the flippancy of fate
That dealt our kith or kin this cruelest blow.
Yet, I wonder, is it regret or relief
That predominates our minds
Regret for them and secretly, guiltily,
Relief that we have been spared for now?
My friend says – ‘Take it easy! Be cool!
Heavens won’t come falling down!’
I take a deep breath; try to loosen my facial muscles
Waiting one’s turn
In the air conditioned room we sat
Facing each other, though not really
Facing each other.
If chanced to catch the other’s eyes
We glanced swiftly away – and then
Would covertly watch each other.
We waited our turn – though having arrived later
I guessed he would go in first.
It was awkward, our faces said, to sit
In nothing but a gown that reached just below our knees
And flaps held together by bits of Velcro.
Sometimes, I saw him demurely pulling down
The gown; the inside of his thighs could be seen.
To the head-capped, green-gowned who passed by now and then
We would have seemed like specimens in the biology lab
Waiting
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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