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Introspection Funeral Poems | Introspection Poems About Funeral

These Introspection Funeral poems are examples of Introspection poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Introspection Funeral poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

The Bell My Mother Rang

The 18th of December was her last day;
she neither knew the date nor cared to.
Gathered at the hospital, keeping vigil,
we couldn't overcome her fright, or ours.
The pain, too great to be driven away,
was only "managed" with IV drips,
needles stuck in bruised appendages --
bony things -- arms and legs, hands and feet.
Above the medicines and washes, we sniffed
her scent, which, more than her yet familiar
face, to us identified our mother --
a smell we never would mistake
for any other. It went quickly
as her body cooled. The rouged and pickled
carcass they displayed was more a statue
than a person. We planned to bury her
with homely tokens, like an ancient mummy:
a family photo, a brooch she liked,
a pink hairbrush, and the brass bell she rang
to call her keeper during her last years.
But, when the time came, I could not bear
to see her leave so finally;
I took the bell from her metal box.
And, now, I ring it -- not to bring a keeper,
but to recall my mother on her birthday,
and on many dark days when I need her.


Details | Rhyme | |

Written In Stone Among The Flowers



I see your name there written in stone
Beside so many others to me faces unknown
Do you see me or am I alone
In this place where last respects are shown

Are you walking here among the flowers
Where we laid your earthly body to rest
Where souls are set free to join higher powers
Is this, the final journey of our life-quest?

I see the dates there written in stone
Your day of birth and of your last breath
Are we merely made of flesh and bone
Or does time continue for us after death

I see the words of endearment there written in stone
Do you Beloved Husband my voice hear
Are my words like dust in the four winds forever blown
Or can the words chiseled here comfort you my dear

When my name is there beside yours written in stone
All these answers to me will be finally known
I pray you and I walk here among the flowers
Our souls joined forever among higher powers

©Donna Jones


Details | Light Poetry | |

AMY WINEHOUSE-Should have went to rehab


They tried to make you go to Rehab...
you said...
                NO!
                    NO!!
                       NO!!!
Shoulda' packed your bags ta' Rehab...
you wouldn't 
                 GO!
                     GO!!
                        GO!!!
  
 boo-hoo hot-mess
        Wine-HORSE


Details | Narrative | |

Death Of The Saints

A cousin called the other day saying "Another cousin has passed away".

Well my husband said "How old was she.""

"Ninety-eight".

A stalwart woman who had served family and community well. Producing one child that 
became a missionary serving in a foreign land..

While talking the cousin asked "Did you know ______"?

My husband answered, "Well, I don't think that I knew them".

The cousin proceeded to tale this story.

"The man had been down with cancer for a while and passed recently..The funeral had been 
conducted and the hearse had gone on to the cemetary..The family car with the family was 
not to far behind..But when it pulled up, the wife of the deceased did not get out and the 
funeral home staff was gathering around..The funeral home director decided to go see what 
was going on ...."

The cousin said, " That this funeral home director told him". "That he had been in this 
business for thirty-five years and faced something that he had never had happen to him or 
any other funeral home director that he knew."

The funeral home director said, "When I got to the family car, I found the wife of the 
deceased had passed from a massive corornary."

She had said, "I don't know how I will live without him." She didn't have to learn. God called 
her home..

The roosters crow, the crows craw and are answered by the gobble of the turkey across the 
way..


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Rhyme | |

The Day My Uncle Died



The Day My Uncle Died...

I was thinking about the smile on my uncle’s face….
This was a before he would “leave this place."

I'll never forget the words shortly before he died.
The more I thought about it, the more I cried.

He said, "you know Jimmy I wish I got to know you better."
I never received another phone
 call or even a letter.

A few days later he was ready to go to a funeral.
But it was also him who received a burial.

I was shocked and amazed as to what happened.
The events took place. There was no way
 I could "stop them."

Memories I had were from many years ago.
I often think about him.    And I do miss him so!

I suppose many don't take the time to realize...
How quickly life passes... 
Then someone dies.

Perhaps there's someone in your
 life you can think of…
There's been a situation that you're
embarrassed to "speak of/"

A harsh word said, and angry thought was spoken.
And soon your relationship has been "broken."

This may be a good time with this person to spend.
Irregardless if they're what you'd call a "friend."

Everyone is important to God who reigns above.
We need to be filled with his mercy and love.

The person you haven't seen shall one day disappear...
The days are short...  Our journey's end is so near!

May God speak to our heart and help us to see...
Where will you and I be spending our eternity???

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

Losing pieces

Oh, how I miss the dead…

... the softness in their voices
That I cannot recreate,
the warmth of their silence
Where now only cold remains;

And I know, oh how I know
That they are long gone
And I have been long removed
From those fuller times
But still, when I feel around my heart
I find that it is missing things
Parts long lost and dearly missed,
And I sit here feeling fatally incomplete
And I know-  that I can never be whole again.

But I still miss the dead,
And I miss the times
When I never knew
That I would live on
Missing the days when I was whole…

-So I still miss the dead
And the times when I was not hollowed by loss
Living every day with a lighter heart
So far from the times
 	when I would never be whole again.

And now, so far removed
from fuller times,
These few missing holes
they let in a chill wind
And somehow, these missing holes
they leave my heart heavy
And I know that it will grow heavier yet,
But I dread
That when I am lost
I die not just incomplete
But empty-
	Empty of all I could yet lose.


Details | Epitaph | |

Put it on my tombstone

Lived amongst the dead
Then decided to join them


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

To a Dead Man

You Drive me into this Malice, into this Maze I can only see the last of days Your Creation Failed With Me Burn with malice as you bridge to the plains of ennui


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Narrative | |

My Legacy

My ancestors came here long ago
Tough and strong not weak
But somewhere down along the line
Something went terribly wrong
And now I have to sit here and deal with my legacy
Of not what I thought it would be
Not where I choose to be right now
The legacy that’s me.

I can’t escape the past
The memories seem to last
Of the horrors of what has come before
The graveyard is the place
I can see it on my face 
My family’s legacy of suicide 
is haunting me.

My generational legacy
Is it going to kill me
Or will it just let sleeping dogs lie 
And allow me to exist
Will it allow me to just to see
The me that I am meant to be
To live beyond my years
To grow beyond the tears
To handle all my fears
To defy what could have been
My legacy.

(November 13, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved 


Details | Free verse | |

Draconian II

[The Puppeteer]
The storm I see you in
Caught in the race of Caïn
Held by the arms you cannot see--the conducter of Ennui 
-No stronger than the void you hold within-
It began with a hope, an obsession
Casted into, slavery of repugnant possessions 
Granted by, the Avaricious Lords, the ones we serve for
-They Told Us to pray, hope, away from despair, the despair caused by their immaculate Hands
Malice, envy, greed, was granted to me, The Feudal Dream, we want to be Them, just like him
-just how he solaces us, ambivalent hope, engendering knives to my throat 

[The Fall]
In this Valley of morning and weeping
Love lies bleeding, in desperate fear
With their talons, the hunt to rip out thy heart 
As each velvet petal falls apart
Her body chained in their bile and lies, covered with their red-spy
-sent just to check if our souls are in line, do not defy 
Her blood velvet and pure, drips away with innocence of the amber guardian 
The soil of plagues, beggars, and graves
Is know her home, the coven of solace
Though the seed has died--resurrection Is near passing through death's fear
One stronger than you--and thy funeral skies
She is alive--anew
But the vapors still remain
The Apocalypse is here, do we fear?
Just for the death of our sins
Elysia never Seemed so far away

[Our Damnation]
Solitary ruins, Fulfill their visions
We strayed far from the depths within 
We all lingered to his solace--lies
-you make the sign everyday, but lack toknow the name
We are just the toys, he pulls all of the strings
We are nothing in this burning world
of Decadence, and Failed Semblance

[Draconian] 
Draconian--Reach for the shadows within
Draconian--Break from the Fallen's son
Draconian--Their empirical lies, only die
Draconian--Reach the shadows within


Details | Free verse | |

Gene, Gene, the Singing Machine

(in memoriam, Eugene Lawler, d. January 29, 2012, aged 83 years)

--- Note:  "The singing machine" is a not so tongue-in-cheek reference to Gene and his penchant for singing whenever and wherever he wished, as well as to his karaoke
equipment and his nickname at bars that featured karaoke nights. ---


You fancied yourself a singer,
and indeed you were.
What songs we heard from you
you had made your own,
and you gave them freely
to all who would listen
(though we were just a few
who were, at times, inattentive.)
Time and remembrance may color
the images you left behind,
and the sentimental songs
you sang (and scribed on silver disks 
for us to hear when, and if, we will)
may prod us to recall
your willful, dour demeanor
which could bloom into benevolence
or darken further in stormy sneers
at tardiness, or at perceived
maltreatment of any sort.
You were your own arbiter of behavior
who kept before you expectations
of what was appropriate, for yourself
and for us, the others of your kind.
We were few (still fewer now),
who flocked together on occasion
to celebrate, in quiet fashion,
whatever anniversary we chose --
perhaps your passing date
will become another to be marked.
And your voice, reproduced mechanically,
amplified, may remind us of our loss,
and of yours.  


Details | Epitaph | |

Mama Cried

Mama cried when Papa died,
he was killed by a drunk on the interstate;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had a daughter yet to raise.

Mama cried when Becky died,
she was killed by an abusive husband;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had a grandson yet to raise.

Mama cried when Bobby died,
he was killed by an IED in Afghanistan;
but Mama stopped shedding tears,
for she had her own life yet to live.

No one on earth cried when Mama died,
she was killed by a deranged drug addicted junkie
for the seventeen dollars and change she had in her purse;
but the angels cried in paradise when Mama died.


Details | I do not know? | |

Life Lessons Learned

Grief took me by the hand
Lead where I didn't want to go
Straight into the valley of tears
That began to constantly flow

Now that grief had acquainted me
With sorrow in the vale of tears
It seemed at eternal spring of weeping
Was where I would constantly live

Then grief brought me up the mount
Where loved ones went before
When escorted in this place 
The lessons to which exposed

Seems now working my way back
Changed forever from that meeting
Grief an aquaintance I had spurned
But now after the greeting

I will never be the same 
Though given another hundred years
Grief taught me more in a few short fears
Than joy with all her pleasings


Details | Acrostic | |

OFFENDED

W hen you go to someone's wedding
H ave you done so in clothes that are unsuitable?
E ver shown up for an evening out wearing shorts?
R emember the times when we "dressed" for dinner?
E ven now, some do so.

I t isn't everyday that special things happen in our lives...
S trange how inadequate we are in showing respect.

T here are times when a casual attitude is not offensive.
H ovever, that is for the mundane.
E ach one of us makes choices with regard to events in life. 

R ecently, I attended the memorial for a friend's mother.
E very one who was there knew that this was a somber occasion.
S ome, however, did not take the time to think about their demeanor.
P erhaps we have gone overboard with our "casual" attitudes.
E xpectations for me are that one would come dressed for the ceremony.
C asual attire and wearing baseball caps are fine at a picnic, but
T hen, I was taught that social graces begin at home.


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Personification | |

Law Of Reciprocity




        --------

Do You find your-self
    With-out a ladder
And just don't know
      What to do?
      ------
Try the "Law Of Reciprocity" 
Fore only good thing's come
          Back to You!
      ------
Plant your-self a Seed
And then You shall
        Have a Tree...
      ------
Just give it a little time
And soon you will have three...
     ------
Then You shall be able 
        To climb...
For the very first time...

             Poet Author
             Gary Fields


Details | Rhyme | |

Those Who've Gone On Before Me

Many Have Gone On Before Me…

As I grow old, many I know have gone on before me.
Some I didn’t know.   And some knew me.

In our lives, there’s one thing that’s very certain.
We don’t know when we’ll meet life’s “final curtain.”

No matter how we try to look, or seek a “younger appeal.”
One day, old age comes, and the end of life seems real!

Our lives down here, could end tomorrow!
No matter how many years we may try to “borrow.”

God knows when the end of our lives will be!
The question is: Where will you spend your eternity?

You may seek all of this world’s wealth and fame.
But when death comes calling… 
 It knows your name!

You can go through life, and keep “pretending.”
But God knows when your life will be ending!

He’s prepared for you, a place in his eternal city.
There’ll be no more sorrow, pain or pity!

All of the angels in heaven await your choice!
Each person coming to heaven,,,  They all rejoice!

Jesus loves you!  This is great news!
His gift of salvation...  Please don’t refuse!

Think about those who’ve gone on before you!
And the wonderful God that always knew you!

Every breath you breathe… Each step that’s taken…
Jesus is your only hope and secure foundation!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Lyric | |

Bob, the Forgotten Valentine and Greedy Double Dater

My friends, this saga slowly unfurls
 a love story that went quickly awry,
 seems greedy Bob dated a pair of girls
 when with one, to the other he’d lie.
 
The homlier girl’s name was Edith
 who, nonetheless Bob was fond of,
 but, greedy Bob wanted to live out the “myth”
 and with sisters, he was sure to find love !
 
He began slyly asking about sister Kate
 for her beauty was equalled by few,
 she was young, and he believed her well worth the wait
 she had enough sex appeal for two !
 
Bob’s antics had him severely troubled
 because, he covered his tracks day and night,
 his love-making prowess had quickly doubled
 so his lovelife was going just right !
 
Well, finally Bob’s saga ended in terror
 because the girls both found out what he’d done,
 Bob had mixed their names up, in a passionate error
 and what transpired next, was not very fun !
 
One of the sisters had taken Bob’s life
 because he’d proven he couldn’t be “true”,
 and the lesson he learned, at the end of that knife
 taught, “you can’t have your Kate…..and Edith, too !


Details | Epitaph | |

Concrete Ribbons

On roads to nowhere/everywhere
white crosses dot the countryside seeking
a final resting place abandoned now to 
wait for plastic flowers to be placed as if 
somehow this will bring closure to loved ones 
who mourn their passing from interstate to ether state
from sadness to glory from son daughter mother father 
grandfather orphan to eternal rest. 
White crosses maybe one maybe five 
returning to death no longer alive. 
one brief instant horror to blessed rest
on a cold siding/a concrete ribbon/
a drainage ditch/a nowhere road.
Are they resting there or are they crying 
to let them be with others in this clay
state that means nothing.
now the remains of yesterday clinging to memories faded as
the plastic flowers/teddy bears/grayed out names that 
mean nothing to but a simple few who will 
not let them rest.
Oh my soul mourns to let them free 
let Jeanette go free Bill S. on that lonely road
let B.R. road worker lay his tools and vest and
hard hat down Fred S. is a memory nothing more 
nothing less/let them rest … we long to be at rest 
not be looked upon by passersby who 
wonder why our crosses are in the middle of 
Nowhere/we are nowhere to be found.
We cry for justice of the past/let us sleep where 
we are not where the metal and pain and stench and broken
glass found us …


Details | Rhyme | |

Epitaph

He never played by published rules --
he lived his life as he saw fit;
instead, he left to other fools
their rash pursuits, the glory bit.
He studied gulls -- the birds, their flight --
and wondered why they shrieked all night.
Dark shadows deepened in his eyes;
the light from shaded windows faded.
He heard the shrill, the poignant cries
of gulls in flight from perches traded
for graying, vague, and empty skies.
At last he knew what birds foretold.
In dry whispers, with rasping breath,
he greeted the arrival of cold-
natured, bony-fingered, grasping Death.


Details | Narrative | |

Final Plea

Inspired by the untimely deaths of young people I knew. RIP


In a dream, tonight would be my last

and I demanded to talk to God.

Of all the things I've gotten past,

to go now seemed so odd.

"You've taken all my friends you see

and now you want me, too?

Unlike one who pretends to be

I've always honored you."

Those sinners who outlive me still,

all I have to ask is how?

It mad me question His very will.

Why take a good man now?

But God just sat and let me rave

on and on about my worth

and why I didn't need a grave,

but rather eternity here on earth.

Pride let my voice be rather loud.

He never said a word.

I told of deeds that made me proud

and good things that I'd heard.

And when I tired He simply said,

"No doubt your life's been good.

But many younger are now dead

and their legacy simply would

be the song that is never sung,

no children call them dad.

for they came to me so very young

and left the world confused and sad.

Yet now your time has come as well

and selfish thoughts are all I hear?

Your life was full and I can tell

it's really death you fear.

Just remember that you have no choice,

for you all will one day die.

Be strong and with a humble voice

tell loved ones they can cry."

And in that moment I knew a peace,

and I felt a tear well up inside.

That most feared was now the least

as my selfish motives died.


Details | Narrative | |

The Death Of A Friend

There was no casket to be set into the earth.
Only memories were to be  burried washed clean 
by the bottles embrace.

Strangers  do we part a vist to a familar cold place 
by the oceans shore.
Words spoken never hurt when you  understand 
human nature.

The dark inwhich  I only know.
A dark river flowing unto the sea.
Its broken current flow's with no true direction.

As children we start fresh only to loose the spark.
Dancing under a shroud of tenderness  apon lifes 
harsh stage.

Bitter souls reflect  anger lost only tears of  regret.
Me i just cast demons down   in some  twisted hope
I just might forget.

Sometimes you gotta realize when you crash through that glass
celling  you only got to look forward to the floor.
The bottle now empty I cast into  the dark waters
eternal bed.
Along  with a memory  I'll pretend to erase.

Distanse is only a thought away.
The road echos  my lifes song.
Underground burried  so deadly the truth
just as sweet as the lie.

Barbwire and daydreams  plague my soul.
Like the bottle that sit's within the depths 
of a water cast tomb.

I know strangers  as friends.
Night as backdrop.
Farewell  seems  fitting as hello.
When the river has run dry    
To whom will go?

Read more: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/the-death-of-a-friend/#ixzz0suxHEd00


Details | Couplet | |

Facing Mortality

Another passing, quiet tears
A time of reckoning, a few more beers
Once wooded, now populated, concrete
Where crickets chirped, now a street
Dreams dying, goals unreached, a new reality
Coming face to face with your own mortality
Material achievement, awards on the wall
Of no real value, please take them all
To change the world but the drive is gone
There's a torch still burning, can you pass it on
Stars in the sky whose light will not diminish
Journey toward dreams that you'll never finish
There is a peace in memories, pain doesn't last
The future intimidates but not the past
Different roads but the same destination
Reaching back in sheer frustration
Fearing places where we don't know what we'll find
Thinking back to all we left behind
Another passing, quiet tears
A time of reckoning, a few more beers.


Details | Free verse | |

The Fear

The Aphotic rays reach higher
And shame, shade reigns over all
Lacuna, Apathy is all I feel as I fall into the ashed grave
I'm living, the slowest way to die
Elysia, rapture where are you now

What will I do when the flame is extinguished 
What will I do when I drown in ash
What will I do when they sing my name in funeral dirges 
How can this be all, one short organic vitality
Scares to die, but afraid of a new day

Scared to die, but so afraid of a new day
Will I Ressructe to Paradise, burn in Hell, or lay in Sheol
Is this a there is, one feather, to the dirge
My life so long - my suffering grows
Scared to die, but so afraid of a new day

In all of the ashes, a flame begins
Once again, here I am
Living, the slowest way to die


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

They said her time had come- Death by insurance

They said her time had come
No place to run
No place to hide
No time for fun
Just an empty vessel inside
Going through the motions
Numb.
Overwhelming emotions
They said her time had come

They said her time had come
Evil coats
She wants to run
She desires to have fun
Not understanding why she can not play
It is now the month of May
Another denial letter
Another denial to get better
They said her time had come

They said her time had come
Why such looks of sorrow?
She doesn’t understand
For there is always tomorrow
Evil coats
She takes a breath
Smelling all of the flowers
No place to hide
Now literally an empty vessel inside
They said her time had come

Her time had come
Her bald head 
Just four years old
She looks to comfort from her mom and dad
Why do they look so sad?
Evil coats drag them away 
She never got that chance to go out and play
Beep. Beep. Beeep.. Bleeeeep….. 
The room floods with long white coats
Now to heaven this little girl floats
Her time had come

They said her time had come
She was just a name
No money, undeserving of fame
Easy for her to be denied
If only the suits had looked her in the eyes
Who is to blame? 
Sent to the free clinic
Now dead at four
No insurance
Ooops! What a shame…
She could have been saved
Now two parents at her grave
Once a happy family, now destroyed
Because THEY said her time had come


Details | Free verse | |

Let Go

I almost forgot to look up today,
And see the setting sun throw stripes across the sky,
My mind was clouded with worries from work,
Thoughts bouncing and replaying around an exhausted head,
A whirl, a tired mess, 
No room even for the music of my car radio,
I had to switch it off,
A head that was too full, 
Grinding teeth and drooping eyes my reward for the day.

Then my eyes caught sight of the trees gently dancing in the wind, 
A small, wooden bird house nestling in a garden,
The jagged shapes of the waves on the lake I drive past,
The ancient ruins of the castle on the hill,
Life has gone on outside my day at work,
And my day could have been more beautiful than I ever imagined.

When I went to the funeral today,
I pondered the life that was lost,
I questioned my own mortality,
No matter what a life looks like,
That funeral is what it ends in,
A beer in a shabby Working Men’s Club and a stale sausage roll.

So do I want to miss the stripy skies or go a day without feeling the wind on my cheeks?
No.
For one day it may all be far from me, 
I may be absent and lost, 
And I don’t know where my soul will lie, 
Or what it will have missed.

One thing I have learned today,
Is that if I can learn to let go,
I will learn to live fuller and longer. 


Details | Free verse | |

Weeping endures but for a time

Weeping endures but for a time

You left me 
With a hole in my heart
Where your spirit blows through
Creating such a draft
My arms are empty too

I try hugging the wind
It doesn’t embrace me
Or keep me warm
Or wipe away 
The continual leaking
From my eyes
Or clear the mist from the windows
Of my soul

I yearn for the sunshine
Of your smile
The warmth of those tender moments
Spring birthed in us 
The ability to hear
Birds sing more beautifully
Flowers bloom more colorfully
Our love painted everything 
Wonderful

Then you left my side
Suddenly
Winters bitter wind arrived 
Leaving emptiness and 
Cold, cold days and nights
And vast empty space

They say on cold dark nights 
The stars shine more brightly
But although stark with its own beauty 
Icy space can also freeze the heart

I stare at a cross
With your name engraved
Dated with reminders of when
Reminding me of how long we had

The sky is fading 
Telling me how short 
Time is
The overcast sky reminds me
There are 
Sad times in life
But behind cloudy skies

The sun is warm and bright
Better days will come 
And we shall meet again 
Beyond the blue, blue skies
Where Joy is paramount 
And where tears are wiped away.

© Brenda V Northeast
 






Details | Lyric | |

For the Dying Orphan

I let you die for my name As you reached for my hands Out of waters of drowning What a hypocrite this writer is The Hatred of Solitude Letting an orphan dream Then destroy him with knowledge Of what you have done He opened up to you In new ways But in nostalgic guises The springwinds whisper blithe yore But the winterwinds, much stronger Caress you with the dreams of your funeral sky “It was you… it was your fault… Letting the one who was so open to you Be the laugh… the piece in the game…”


Details | Narrative | |

House of Memories

The dog is fretting over her bone endlessly. The time seemed to stand still and the house was a farrago of dirty clothes and missed placed items. I am wishing I could blink and the mess would disappear.
Painting supplies collect on the table dried from lack of use. No energy to be creative today. Another death in the our family....March first can't forget that day and that call.
Death is closing in on my life....Each year we have a deposit in the heavenly account. Yet life continues until there are no more setting suns nor sunrises. The aged have to make way for the young.

I saw the butercups bloom today purest yellow! Purple crocus and maroon violets have broken through the terra firma of the cold winter. The sun has been bright today; I saw a rainbow cloud reminding me of God's love and promises of protection.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

To Jack

My friend, you will be in my heart forever/
you proved to be a great man and this is not simple in this blue rounded ship headed to nowhere,
so my friend,  cosmic dust we may mean to the whole universe
but a whole universe we mean to our loved ones.
Your hands helped to shape our souls, bringing artistic comfort to our suffered eyes.
Life would be just impossible without art so thank you, thank you.
Your hands  protected your gates,
they also sailed different seas where I bet you cried.
Your hands called your dogs and they smiled.
The other day I read the sun may die in four or five billion years so what is the purpose of life ? Art and moments perhaps.
That we will not know so easy but rest in piece and assured that your hands will never be forgotten !
Carpe diem.


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | Free verse | |

death

Time fell fast 
Things became hard
Worries were vast
Lives begain scared

Hopes endlessly hidden
All things seemed forbidden
Days filled with darkness
Lives consumed and left sparkless

Awaiting the doom
Sitting only in gloom
Heaven wept
No souls were kept


Details | Free verse | |

The Land of Sophia

Escape the tort of our avarice world Defy the ones who shift the blame Deter the decadence forgetting shame Freedom is on the top of the bare eyes Beyond the consciousness of The Human Kind Search harder and then you'll find The Land of Sophia Dwelling past are needs Swirling around our bare minds Our wants polluting out sight the Land of Sophia is lost at night Are the Lies held worth it in time Only embracing The Veil of Logic The Truth is cast into shade where all vices are soon to be made For all of our dreams and dramaticies The Destruction Star poisons seas Far from This Galaxy among the stars I can see myself, And The One I've became Escape the tort of our avarice world Defy the ones who shift the blame Deter the decadence forgetting shame Freedom is on the top of the bare eyes Beyond the consciousness of The Human Kind Search harder and then you'll find The Land of Sophia Dwelling past are needs Swirling around our bare minds Our wants polluting out sight the Land of Sophia is lost at night Caught in our lust, of forgetting trust I wonder can we break free of bound forever in the clutches of Lilith's Love Eden's Heart Who's desperate For Love Who's desperate For Light yet wallows in Blight and chooses to wait--forevermore The wait in Summer--An Eternity Lilith's Love Eden's Heart Escape the tort of our avarice world Defy the ones who shift the blame Deter the decadence forgetting shame Freedom is on the top of the bare eyes Beyond the consciousness of The Human Kind Search harder and then you'll find The Land of Sophia Dwelling past are needs Swirling around our bare minds Our wants polluting out sight the Land of Sophia is lost at night We don't chose what's right I can't believe we are able to see this far Crawling in Shadows Never will breath find it's light Escape the tort of our avarice world Defy the ones who shift the blame Deter the decadence forgetting shame Freedom is on the top of the bare eyes Beyond the consciousness of The Human Kind Search harder and then you'll find The Land of Sophia Dwelling past are needs Swirling around our bare minds Our wants polluting out sight the Land of Sophia is lost at night
**Mark Jansen, Guitarist, Male Vocals, and main songwriter of Epica**


Details | Rhyme | |

When Flowers Bloom and Birds Do Fly

If mine heart should speak, let it speak so well; 
For I may not have another time to tell. 
Let me say it straight; let me say it clear, 
It may not be so loud but the deaf can hear. 

It's for the sane to commend me of my views 
And for the fools to take me as a foe; 
For my word shall either be sweet or foul 
But it bears the frankness of my soul. 

The sheer desire for wealth or fame 
I apt no more for all is vain. 
It's good enough for me to see 
That I've lived a life in each passing day. 

When a man is young he's at his best 
And a merry soul has no time to rest. 
But life's like hanging on a ledge 
The soul is weakened at the ripe old age. 

No amount of sleep shall recompense or mend 
Of a good dream lost to awakening; 
So as a speeding star in a tranquil gaze 
That fell so sudden before a wish. 

The time that flies and makes one old 
Burgeons the burdens of an old man's load. 
It shall be heavier when he departs 
If he'll bear the laments of a shattered heart. 

Life is doomed and to cease one day; 
Not a single soul can choose to stay. 
Better pave a way for the saints to stroll 
So that bad old serpent could tempt no more. 

Then for my own sake I'll pray with them 
That my soul be freed from the hell's domain. 
And my heart won't dare to sing again 
Those mournful lines of life's refrain. 

A blissful sunset shall start to thrive 
Nocturnal solace upon my head. 
Then it shall be on the day I die 
When flowers bloom and birds do fly. 

Author:  Jecon B. Nadela 
Date & Time of Writing: 
10 May 2014 ; 2:03pm - 3:21pm 


Thanks God I'm writing again. 


Details | Imagism | |

I'm Always Around

I'm Always Around
by BJ Welsh

I'm not near, but I'm really not so far
If you look up I'll be the brightest star
Looking down upon God's project earth
Watching and waiting for a rebirth
When you speak I will always listen
My points will seem to shine and glisten
Giving you guidance when things seem tough
Steady now it may be rough
When we meet again someday
Be it there or far away

I'm here for now and always will
Never escaping, did you feel that chill?
My spirit wind brushed by your side
Or the soft, gentle wave pushed by the sea tide
When we meet again someday
Be it there or far away

You've given me hope and reason to breath
It's not yet time for me to leave
I'm that fluttering seagull upon the sands
Maybe I'm the reason for you to dance
When we meet again someday
Be it near or far away






Details | Narrative | |

The Known Soldier

Last night awakened with thoughts of him
How long has it has been, only
Yesterday … 

First one I ever saw laid out
I sixteen, he nineteen, Viet Nam 
Airborne …

Purple complexion seeping through under glass 
I gaze on doll-like hair
Broomcorn …

His uniform perfect, tie straight
Blouse olive, at attention
Airborne … 

No one else at the funeral home
Me and a girl friend too early for death
Careworn …

Dead before he hit the ground
Cut down by ground-fire first jump no longer
airborne ...

So many years now, forty-two,
awakened with thoughts of him,
Wind-borne …

Still see his body rigid attention
rumor wire for arm, died before his time
Soilborne …

Didn’t know him well, would he
still be here if not
Airborne …

Would we have smoked and talked about 
women if he would be
reborn …

And what of Thua Thien, what now 
monument, blood of airborne boys?
Golf course …


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Rhyme | |

LIFE

Two hearts beat, now beating faster; beating until they're one 
Two souls breathe, now breathing deeper; breathing until they're done 
Two lovers see forever, and forever is where they run 
One child comes home tomorrow for life has just begun 

Even when the rainbow's glowing, the skies can seem so gray 
Even when the wind's not blowing, the tides can turn your way 
And when the water's raging, beneath skies that seem so blue 
It's just your body aging, and it has nothing to do with you 

So now when our God comes calling, I'll hold your hand and stroke your hair 
Yes, as snowflakes start falling, I will look for you everywhere 
And Mother, as you start flying, remember as you rise above 
Marlene, you are not dying, but finding everlasting love 

One child goes home tomorrow to embrace the Father and the Son 
One child who knows no sorrow, for life has just begun


Details | Rhyme | |

Drown

The water in my chest,
And my eyes, they burn,
Lungs burst for air,
They are losing all their turn.

My eyes see the light,
That swims in the water,
And as I sink,
My lungs burn hotter.

I try to breathe,
Yet only choke,
I scratch for the surface,
Pray that it be broke.

But I know that I,
Will soon touch sand,
But only beneath the waves,
I will never touch land.

So I close my eyes,
To be engulfed by the dark,
As as i slip away,
Shines bright,  the mark.

The deeper I go,
My dress cling to me,
As I drown,
Sink,
To the bottomless sea.


Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert



Details | Rhyme | |

On many things

It was a voice in my head
A whisper in my ear
A sound I've come to dread
A thing I've come to fear
It was the look in its eyes
On a face whiter than snow
Seeing through all my lies
Uncovering that I do not show
It was the power in its stare
Showing what I don't want to see
Saying your time is near
And you can neither hide nor flee
It was the words it said
Creeping into me in a whisper
Telling me that she is dead
Telling me I know I'll miss her
It was what it forced me to see
Things I've hidden away with denial
Things I said I'd never be
For which I'll surely stand on trial
It is what I will become
A thrall of the shadow
Death's own son
Libera nos a malo!!!
It is what I feel
Black bleak sadness
Pain I wish wasn't real
Driving me to the brink of madness
It is what I stand for
My prerogative
The urge to always be more
My reason to live


Details | Free verse | |

Draconian I

[The Cypress Is In Bloom]
The cypress is in bloom
I see the evil, the efflorescence of decadent doom
Eloigning, with thy clandestines of the Dead September's reign
My belovéd Penelope, abscond from the coven so deep, the glades of misery
We must face her in the grove, for arcany, the path we must take
She's in my mind, vaporously,
Lauding with my, dangers and fears
Lie, with ephermelcy's broken truths
Leading me go Cypress, Marigold
Immortally, willows, forevermore
Forevermore

[To Question; To Know]
My argentine silence, your only condonicy 
Ends with such eath
The Mockingbird in me--died
Resting in one ounce, an abundance of shame
With an infinity of joy
Exiled, by the ones, who give all, names
My breath starves for only more
The façade, the veil, the austerity dims with Aquarianlore 
She falls to her knees, why for?
Celandine she will be
Celandine is she

[Bead]
The lair within, free from their causalities of their sins
Shadowy primroses begin to grow, the season will never end
In there I dream to be like you, violet blue, White Flower of Lisieux,
La Fleur Blanche du Lisieux,
So Celandine are you
Celandine are you

[Draconian]
Draconian--Reach for the shadows within
Draconian--Break from The Fallen's Sin
Draconian--Their Empirical lies, only die
Draconian--Reach The Shadows Within


Details | Rhyme | |

When I Die

Don't weep for the loss
I've merely swept across
Know that I am here
Always will I be near
In the way you walk
And the way you talk
Thru your words of strife
To guide you thru this life
In your beautiful stare
All the elements in the air
Running thru your veins
And whatever shall remain
Presenting thru your smile
And every lonesome mile
With every beat of your heart
You'll feel we're not apart
With every warming breeze
And the swaying of the trees
Thru your precious laughter
And every moment thereafter
In those mesmerizing eyes
Your mother is still alive
In each and every thought
Enacting what I've taught
Thru the precious moments
And every single torment
Thru every scent you intake
And each and every mistake
Your mother has not died
In your hearts where I reside


Details | Lyric | |

The Escapist's Plea

When you can longer run away from yourself
When you thought there were no more tears to cry
When you just want to die
Living like this consumed by the façade of a million lies
So many years, so many days
Waking up to people who no longer care you're there
You ask how can this be, one short organic vitality
Wasted with living; the slowest way to die

The shadows of shame weigh you down 
Until you drown, filled with only their hate
All you can turns grey, and all you ever loved fades
The agony is all you know, thank you pain
A self-sadist Is all you have become, j
ust how they showed you, craving so much more
Just to hide up all of the misery
But under cloth it still bleeds

This is the Escapist's Plea
For the one who fall to their knees in misery
Trying to stay sane but fall under September's rain
Dying from the invisible disease, only you can see
Stigmatized by their sadistic need
Only if I could just fly away
...Fly Away


Details | Rhyme | |

Letters to my dad

How about them times! Some of them seem so goofy now, But what fun it was. How we laughed an laughed. What’s missing now Is your face I was your ace. Not a foot print I wouldn’t trace. Always wanted to be in your good grace. Never to act in hast. He would of never made it his place, To judge you; Is a lack of conversational taste. The fact that I adore you is but one of my truths. The way you shaped my views Puts others to waste. They have no clue to what the world holds outside of there face. I can help, But I’m not the man you where Dad. Sometimes I get so sad. And for real even mad. The world took the best person I ever had.


Details | Rhyme | |

Our parents

I do miss them everyday,
To state the facts
I know ill never get them back,
Sleep that's what I lack
In
Conversational
Understandings
We got each other,
because they where just- that- smart
A want to interact,
with us,
as equals,
but we where aware,
they where parents.
This,
Absolutely okay.
The vision may be myopic,
but I will never,
blame them.
For being naive


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Misunderstandings

They said I was young, they said I was foolish
As I made many mistakes of all types
They misunderstood; I was taking those risks
To find some purpose in my life
 
They said I was strong for succeeding in life
And never being mentally frail
They misunderstood; I worked my hardest
To make sure I would never fail
 
They said I was foolish for trying to win you over,
For thinking a chance with you was even true
They misunderstood; I could never ignore
The beauty God had given to you
 
They said it was amazing, despite all the turmoil
We had made it for so long
They misunderstood; for us it was as easy
As discerning right from wrong
 
They called me caring, loving, and charming
And being the best husband there could be
They misunderstood; I was just trying to give back
The love you had bestowed onto me
 
They called me lost, deranged, insane
That I was living the epitome of a lie
They misunderstood; I was just in denial
That you had left my life and died
 
They called me pitiful for weeping at the funeral
For not being able to stay through it all
They misunderstood; I wanted you alive
I wish I had taken the fall
 
They said I was crazy for jumping off that building
At the age of thirty seven
They misunderstood; I was trying to get to you
So we could be together again in heaven


Details | Free verse | |

Goodbye

Comforting words
Smooth, quiet tones
Reassurance 
complete confidence 

Long nights spent reasoning
In total understanding
Twin thoughts 
twin minds
twin miseries
and twin fates

Now it’s so quiet
Too quiet
Complete and utter silence....
Oh my God, 
What happened to the good old days
When we both made sense?!

Lost in blurry dreams of childhood
Colorful, wonderful, windy days
Subconscious cradled memories 
of the times when we 
were eachother’s only friends

Only you, 
	the sky
		the earth
			and me...


				No betrayal

			No lies
		No fire

	No hate

No regrets.

I think I can understand 
why you won’t face me
But your sudden silence
is so confusing

Did you ever know me well enough
to know my affection for ultimate honesty?
If you wanted me to go away
why didn’t you just say something? 

Only this emptiness is left
Inconsolable grief...
For what never again can be 

No warning
No parting words
No ceremony

You went and had the funeral 
for our friendship
but did not invite me

From the start
I thought these ways would always be
But in the end,
All I wanted, my friend 
was to say 
goodbye.

I can’t trust anyone
anymore
anyway

All alone again
shame on me


Details | I do not know? | |

A Scattered Man at Sea

Through life it is all the people,
All love and time,
All will go as death is fine,

The seas' waves let me float dead,
It's cold wind's journey speeds my spread,

I saw my bones beneath my skin,
Thinking they will never appear to thin,

No regrets or moral frets,
Life is death as death is set,
Man to flame!
Ash to the ocean!


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Under Ground Cities

A man walks into a new generation gangster town,
there were guns, amoe, drugs, explosives, and allot of bad people, and that's all he found. 
He looked around the streets and saw allot of African American people running the show,
he walks into one corridor and into another city, and he welcomed the flow.

The new city, to him it wasn't any different than the one he just came out from, there were Muslims,
they wore gold chains and hiphop music was playing every where, the mostly dealt cocaine, and said fuk them.
there women were so beautiful, they would walk around in heals and panties were ever they went,
the man walked though all the gorgeous women and thought to him self, "no I can't". 

The man walks into a new city, he walked into "The Slums" it was the hardest and the baddest outlaws of the nations,
the man looked around and right away he did not like what he saw there, everything was dirty and without and patience. 
He couldn't wait to get out of there, the women were nasty and smelled like they haven't showered in years,
The man put his head down and started walking out of the slums with nothing in his eyes but tears.

The man walked into "Siberia" Everyone living there saw the man come in and they all rushed to great him,
at first the man got a little scared, but than he saw there smiles, so he smiled back at them. 
Everyone was living there was dancing to a death mettle Hip Hop music, while drinking and sniffing cocaine with a gun on there sides,
The man walks to the bar while looking at all the beautiful women that are dancing and giving him a sexy look.
Than the BOSS of the city comes up to him, pores him a drink and tells him how he is the BOSS of the whole West Coast, 
the man looked at him and smiled, he put his hand around the boss, looked at everyone around and said, "Let's Toast".


Details | Pastoral | |

Apocalypse



****************Trival Question?**********


Question: In what good way
               Can evil be bad.....

Answer: When it come's to the Restoration
             Of the Soul.....

                   GF


Details | Free verse | |

Prayer

Those silent tears ran down again
So sure was I that they had dried
And the hollow feeling they had left
Matches no other but the one of death

So, close the casket or set  the fire
Let me not live another while
nurturing solitude with endless hope
embracing ghosts of fake smiles

Be this mind put at a final rest
All the sorrow ending at last
No struggle left to be done
Never another silent tear to run.


Details | Lyric | |

Suffering Is The Same As Living

Hope, tonight, is just a void Love is destroyed Reality impending my doom Suffering a dream that was never made for me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Don’t worry I’ll be fine I can just wait, wait as in all eternity You deserve to be happy and free I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me You travel all across in my veins Showing you share my pain But my life was never meant for me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me I'm sorry for those days I've ruined your life Best you just ignore, forevermore I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me Suffering is the same as living Tonight I might, Today I may Set you free away from me I’m just the burden falling under your arms I understand if you give up on me
**Morten Veland, Guitarist, Male Vocalist and Main Songwriter of Sirenia, formerly of Tristania**


Details | Free verse | |

Station Bench

Everyone is a child's child.

Everyone is grown some
little, some hardly at all.

Everyone is one
until they are none,
no more.


Details | I do not know? | |

GONE

Gone is the person who,
could make me laugh,
replaced by a person
who can fuel my tears…

Gone is the person who
knew how to caress me,
replaced by a person 
who’s afraid to touch me… 

Gone is the person who
understood me,
replaced by a person 
who questions me…

Gone is the person who
use to look at me with love in his eyes,
replaced by a person whose
eyes are filled with hatred…

Gone is the person who 
gave me flowers just because,
replaced by a person who
gives me nothing…

You use to say you love me
every  day,
you use to say you care…
you said you’d give me world,
guess what I got today??

I got flowers
I even got some tears…
I got love
I got some laughter
A little sadness too
But mostly you’re pretending
To be grieving husband 
I know you’d never be…

I’m happy where I’m at..
No fear
Of when the next storm will
Erupt.
No fear 
about being hit or punched…

I am not afraid 
To breathe again
Even though I am 
DEAD!!!


Details | Free verse | |

Suicide Remorse

The Shot rings out...
and then it's over.

Done.

And all the crying in the world,
won't change a thing.

People always say
I wish I would have been there
I wish I would have known
I should have done something...
said something...
known something...
Been there.
Cared.
Things could have turned out so differently.

But the fact of the matter is...

People always say these things later
and never before...
Never before its too late...

And always at the funeral.


(November 11, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved

 



Details | Dramatic monologue | |

expanding negative-space

expanding negative-space

...from the eye
of an artist's
howling-pen
language-weeps

language-weeps

after-words language-weeps

from the wounds that reason makes;

seep from wounds of omission,
seep from some-deep-super-scary-Sa?sKara,
seep from some gimme-gimballed lurching-duality,

trembling from the loss of blood
lost in the wailing rhythm of suffering,
...
innocent victims like you and me,
lost between infinite-Love and "I'm not worthy",

there where the manic-music lifts
dreams farther-f u r th e r then the stretchered edges in longings go,

to those places where the bubble-breaks,
there

where all that's left is dark and deep.


Details | Free verse | |

Latenight No2

On grieving:
there is both a time
and a place.
Leave your swollen sensations at your seats,
and please allow the door to hit you on your way out;
I can tell you need the kick.
Call it a funeral,
sounds like a carnival,
call it a funeral,
I call it a fun-for-all.


Details | Free verse | |

Disconnection

I'm…
so tired of my heart 
breaking

I'm …
so tired of my hands 
shaking

I'm so tired of my mind
racing

I'm through pacifying 
my disconnection

Do I only love you for who you used to be?
When you said you'd wait for all eternity?
Did you drink away every memory of me?
How am I not everything you’ll ever need?!

I've had to sit down and write this 
to tell you the words i can't speak
When I'm around you now i feel weak
I'm drowning in my disconnection

Where did he go??
You are not the soul I used to know
Where did your memories go?!

Why has the meaning disappeared…
So suddenly
Now I realize I should too

You act like you remember nothing 
I can tell that’s what I mean to you
After all I’ve done for you
All I want is to be emotionless too

In the end I guess it’s what I love the most about you…..
Your disconnection.

[©2012 SLS, this soon to be a new song for It Is Rife With Ambiguity]
www.sorrylittlesharky.com


Details | Rhyme | |

The Old House and the New Home

The Old House and the New Home
©2011 C. Brent Cloyd

I’ve lived in houses in the country side
There with my family I did abide
By the dust and gravel of a country road
Much pride was taken in our humble abode

I’ve lived in houses perched on a hill
Many of which are not standing still
They provided shelter in their time
Provoked memories that make life rhyme 

I’ve lived in a house on a city street
Where the neighbors came out at night to meet
I’ve lived in houses made of wood and stone
On avenues where children could safely roam

I’ve lived in houses of mortar and brick
Where driveways were paved and the grass was thick
I’ve enjoyed houses far better than most
Where friends would come and I could serve as host

But my current house seems like a foreign land
Where everyone wants to lend me a hand
Living in this place is not my desire
Of this arrangement I easily tire

The time has come for me to leave
To this old house I will not cleave
I no longer want a cottage here below
To a fine home in heaven soon I will go.

I long not for a mansion or streets of gold
But just a place where I will never grow old
A place where pain and sadness are never more
Where happiness is found on every shore

I am eager, yes ready, to move out
To possess my new home with a shout!
The promised home Jesus went to prepare
Death please come quickly, I want to be there.


Details | Quatrain | |

elegy eulogy

and all the words congregated somber,
passing observations and glasses around,
and smoked 'em if they had 'em,
and looked woefully at the ground

mentioned how he was so good to them
that he never played any, for favorites
always a mensch, and very gentle too
they all agreed he was very literate 

some words got together in lines
with handkerchiefs and glistening eyes
slowly passing the paged remains
wished his epilogue another reprise

one said, how once he'd looked it up
after a very long absence of use
and prominently displayed its meaning,
written decisively, never misused

another of the first-person singular, 
well-known, of worldly feminine gender
said he'd given her existence a purpose 
and was someone she'd always remember

but now he's written his last retort
they've signed themselves into his book
to be given tearfully to the next-of-kin
and tucked WAY back in some closet or nook

'cause nobody much reads them anymore
no one wants to be made to recall 
that words live longer than their writers
after the author is done with his scrawl

© Goode Guy 2013-08-09

elegy: a mournful poem; a lament for the dead
eulogy: a formal expression of praise


Details | I do not know? | |

Remembering Him

I can’t pay attention,
They have deprived me of my perception.
My nose hurts, my eyes are sore and my frown is painful.
In a room of people who never knew him.
So sadly only I’ve seen him in eighth grade.
I was the M.C. at his graduation.
He ran up to the mic. He thanked for the award.
“Thank you”, he said.
Everyday in my mixed grade class,
He would sometimes make everyone laugh.
I wasn’t close to him, but knew enough
From seeing him and his crew everyday.


Details | I do not know? | |

Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Mido Macia was a 27 year old Mozambican man, working in Daveyton near Johannesburg as a taxi-driver, who was found dead in a police cell, after police savagely dragged Mr. Macia whom they had tied to their police van.

The brutal incident of Mr. Macia being dragged was caught on camera and has shocked South Africa.

The 8 police officers involved are facing charges of murder, and have been suspended from the South African Police Service (SAPS).

This poem is an angry poem that I felt had to be written, because as a society, we need to ask ourselves and each other the hardest questions about xenophobia and intolerance and violence.





Mido Macia 1986 - 2013


Death came to Mido Macia,
a savage, brutal, hellish death came to Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
death dressed-up in the colours of authority,
as callous, vile, sadistic policemen murdered Mido Macia.


The video-footage is blood-curdling,
Mido Macia being dragged,
his hands tied behind him,
to a police van.


But death came later to Mido Macia,
death cheered, clapped, and tore into Mido Macia.


Death came to Mido Macia,
in the cells where they murdered Mido Macia.



Death came to Mido Macia,
a fuelled, cheered-on, instigated death came to Mido Macia.


We are all culpable,
every one of us is culpable,


from racist 'jokes' emailed and texted,
to self-righteous comments about the 'foreigners',


from casual dinner-table conversations,

'they take our jobs',
'they are crooks' 
the 'they marry our women' kind of lunch-time chats,


racist, xenophobic, hate-filled talk,


to beating a human-being to death in a police cell,


or on the streets of Cape Town, Johannesburg ,

and in Daveyton,

where death came to Mido Macia.



Mido Macia 1986 - 2013




Details | Narrative | |

the service

All the big men, the prominent
of community with dark-blue suits,
a few outta town, and an overall or two
gazed at the sky, and gazed at the grass,
and they all passed Grandma around
which sounds loose but it t'aint.

Grandma after all, is worth sharing praise
and they all took their turn with Grandma
and told of what they love of her.
Several agreed about her chicken 
and scratch cake as airy
as the breeze under today

And the little wiry man said
how Grandma came for two months
to take care of his kids - his babies
when his wife had "up 'n' fell down"
the steps and broke her leg

Welling up, he recounted how
she swayed on her legs as she cooked,
and this was what came to most of our minds,
we saw her legs and heard the violin playing 
of the man who brought it along,

Grandma, sang softly, or right out loud
as she walked through the day
A secular, or maybe a gospel tune,
and often, some bawdy blues tune
that'd make 'em all smile a while

All of 'em, the salesmen, and uncles,
the school teacher and the paperboy,
the women from her sewing circle, 
they'd all come to her for help
or advice, or as often, just a bite.

The kids came running from 
fields and woods and creeks
ravenous for a hug and some eats
from her feasting kitchen banquet of 
pies 'n' pudding or baked something else

The minister looked at the big men
and said a few passages they all knew
by heart anyway, and they all agreed
as how they'd miss her warm smile
and some knew they'd lost something else.

© Goode Guy 2012-08-22

for Sue 2012-08-23


Details | Free verse | |

Just One Drink

What did she say when you told her you still loved me?

Did she turn away or try to disagree

Did you think about her or how she would be?

No you were only thinking about me.

 

She stands there now, all alone

Facing her fears of the unknown

Turning her head on what she's once known

Realizing now, she's on her own

 

With no one around to help her choose

She stands her ground, not ready to lose

Her head held high while hearing the news

To accept her fate, she must refuse

 

She tries and tires with all her might

To win you back every night

She has no plans to give up the fight

Any hope is out of sight

 

Her heart is now filled with hatred 

Will all the love that you desecrated

With just that one sentence that you stated

Her entire life is now dated

 

Did you ever stop and try to think,

Just how far she would sink?

How close she was to the brink?

Or how it could all end with just one drink?

 

Just one drink to end all the pain

Just one little sip to break the chain

Just one to do the job, to her disdain

Just one and she will die in vain. 

 

You don't even care to attend her funeral

To you she was just a girl that you could treat cruel

How could you be such a fool?

You don't even know of the fire you've fueled. 

 

You come to my door and ring the bell

You send thousands of messages to my cell

Repeatedly the words "I LOVE YOU" you yell

But for all I care you can just go right on to hell 

 

I don't want you anymore you Silly boy

I am no longer your stupid little toy

As for the loneliness you feel now, I hope you enjoy

Because you had your chance and my love you destroyed. 

 

I am my own person without you

I no longer rely on your every move

I am no longer clueless on what to do

I know now I can move on to someone new.

 

As for the girl that you threw aside

I hope you think of her every time you cry

You're the whole reason that she died

If you wanted someone to love, she would have been there by your side. 

 

She would have loved you the way you love me

But you never opened your eyes and seen what there was to see

I'll never love you no matter how hard you plea

So wallow in your self pity, you'll get no remorse from me

 

I hope you drown in your misery

Thank God that sad little girl is finally free

Thank God I knew it was time to flee 

This is goodbye, so don't bother calling me.


Details | Free verse | |

I'll Show You How to Feel

The words are falling outside my window
Burying even the snow-covered paths.  

The words will never end
Because you’ll never end. 

You’re gone.
You’re mine. 

Why should I discard your pretty torture?
Abandon the wild pain your calm eyes stab me with – no. 

You can’t love him like I love him,
You can’t burn with a smile on your face. 

The night is strong, and it threatens to engulf
And drown me slowly with the cool winter wind.  

I’m learning ways of dying through the life you inflict,
The sweet, sweet, sweet stabs of life.

I can’t love you any more
But I think there’s still some more, a bit more I can love you. 

So if these words hurt you, I’m sorry
Go be at peace with another, I’ll carry on somehow. 

But just in case you want those pretty stabs too
I’ll show you how to feel.

And I’ll be tied up in a straitjacket while you watch me
Holding her hand and telling her how you loved her reflection.  


Details | Senryu | |

then creditors came

she worshipped money
clinched it 'til the day she died;
then creditors came


Details | Free verse | |

Imperfection's Beauty

A world only meant for perfection
Sophie can Hardly Breathe
Have you ever thought about Imperfection's Beauty?
Don't Look to the east, stay here with me

We are The Sick
We Are The Chosen
Just to see--Just to be
Imperfection's beauty 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Brother

You left my brother
Came back a man
Should hear our proud father
Speak of you
How you’ve done him
And momma proud
Sister Jane and Katherine
Down the block
Never seem to have anything
But you to talk about
Oh if you only knew the loving
All the girls around here
Say you’ve missed
It’s a good bet
You’d never have left
But leave you did
Nothing can change that now
In a way it’s good to know
Exactly where you are
We need never again worry
If that old truck of yours broke down
Leaving you to walk home in the rain
It’s a good thing really
Now we can all get some sleep
Granted, not as much as you
But we will in our due time
Just want you to know
These tags of yours
Will never leave my neck
You, will never leave my heart
For no matter why you left
Or how you came back
You still are
And will always be
My brother


Details | Rhyme | |

The Passing



A green glow dribbles 'neath his door,
and clamours of construction mutter,
bellow and insinuate, his broken voice
belies a whole man struggling with a stutter.
He comes and goes in dead of night,
I mark his shuffling pace,
his wheezing terrifies and taunts me, 
nervous as I am to peek, behold this stranger's face.

The sounds persist for several weeks,
relentless, with a purpose,
still I'm reluctant to confront
this man, anxious and desirous. 
Then all at once the banging stops,
the green glow disappears,
I'm left to wonder what he built
'midst stammering and tears.

Overwhelmed with curiosity 
I wait for his return,
his latchkey kills my modesty,
his secret soon I'll learn.
Elderly, his shoulders bent, 
palms pressed as if to pray,
a penitent upon his knees
with not a word to say. 

For in the stark and silent room an altar is revealed,
intricate and fine beyond compare,
with flowers and still photograghs 
a child is honoured there.
I took his arm and knelt with him in prayer. 
The line stretched down the hallway,
those offering respect,
the passing of a little girl
brought many to reflect.


Details | Free verse | |

Dead Winter

They wanna say that I feel dead inside;
I’m no more dead than that tree in the yard.
The one with no color, no sense of direction
The one left abandoned, the one by the road.
The one that kept growing, though nobody liked it –
The one that kept living, through all of the torture.
As weird as it sounds, I kind of admire it, that tree.
Every year, it falls down.
Nature kicks it, beats it, leaves it left for dead.
Every year its covered by the ashes of the past year,
And like the phoenix, rises every year for another beating.

I know I said I was like the tree, but I’m not.
That tree is strong, noble even.
Standing tall in the realm of undead, it’s a symbol,
A beacon that there is something beyond the darkness,
Beyond the barren, beyond the white…


Details | Free verse | |

Angles of death

There is something in air, that is empty
As it collects the soul far and near
The approach is silent yet strong
Signaling as body falls to ground
Angles of death are doing their duty
.


............
Written in the memories of few people who passed away last few weeks, 
a bachelore of 45
a lad in 20s
a father in 50s
............


Details | I do not know? | |

A Matter Of Strength

If strength is only 
How well you hide the pain.
I must be truly strong spirited.

If thinking you want death
Is a matter of being gutsy enough,
Then those who're gone
Were even more strong

Rest in peace,
Yet what've they've done 
Shall forever haunt me...


Details | Rhyme | |

One Claim

How does one claim change the fate of a man?
Tell me, how does that fate change the way of a land?
When all he wants to do is make a new home
He left it all behind for the man on the throne

Its easy to say what you need 
When you know where you're going
When you first start to bleed
I bet it's easy - to be that man
When a murder of crows is at your command.

When you've walked with your knuckles
Dug deep in the sand.
The stories start to change 
When the time starts to bend

We all pass down what we've learned from the "man"
But I bet it's different when it't given
By the very first hand...

It's given never taken, only festers within
When your told where to start
But not where to end.
I bet it't easy to be that way
To blind yourself to life
To follow sheep the whole way

So how does one claim change
The fate of a man?
Tell me, How can that fate change
The ways of a land?

When all he wants to do is be at home...
But throws it all away for a shot at the throne.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Without The Box

So, there you are
Returned from fighting another mans war
Heard you’re quite the hero
Good for you my friend
Twenty years young
Couldn’t wait
To kick some terrorist ass
And so you did
So very well indeed I hear
Now you’re back
Nothing more to kick
What are you to do with yourself
Lying there as you are
Look at all of us here
To welcome you back
Can you not hear the joy
Can you not see the happiness
Or is it all hidden behind the tears
So here you are returned
In a flawless uniform
Lying there all smug and confident
With a peaceful look
Here you are returned
Fresh off the plane
In a nice tight package
Here you are returned
To never leave again
Good to have you back my friend
Only wish it could have been
Without the box


Details | Haiku | |

Smell the Roses Now

smell the roses now
stop, breathe in before you are
buried beneath them.


Details | Lyric | |

The Sixes and Sevens Veil

All of those words and emotions Are tired of lingering in my throat and Mind I want to caress them onto you But how can I? Anon. there might be a time in our days I want to tell you-- I'm worthless, Broken, Diedre, Torned, Discarded, Abuse The past shouldn't control the present but it lingers in my spirit The words need to come out The Darkness with Them What if the truth couldn't set me free, save me from this candled day Underneath the Grove lies something dark, haunted, and confused Hidden in Life aren't we all abused Why can't Eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil I can't discard the decay But I'm still entrouved by the past days why can't eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil Shrouded against our will too scared to show our bare Vulnerable Shadowself It was the ignorance's bliss that caught you The Knowledge creates a burden Too Difficult to Maintain or was it I? trying to be part of your soul The Decay of Your Heart Sadness can be cured by a few words Despair is a disease of the Knife The Eclipse stole the Sun's Sinlight Underneath the Grove lies something dark, haunted, and confused Hidden in Life aren't we all abused Why can't Eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil I can't discard the decay But I'm still entrouved by the past days why can't eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil You can to try to condemn the pain Inside But only I can feel the Decay of my heart I know the quill is better than the razor But only I can feel the Decay of my heart Remember your eyes are hazed by bias lies But only I can feel the Decay of my heart Underneath the Grove lies something dark, haunted, and confused Hidden in Life aren't we all abused Why can't Eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil I can't discard the decay But I'm still entrouved by the past days why can't eyes see what lies beyond The Sixes and Sevens Veil You can to try to condemn the pain Inside But only I can feel the Decay of my heart I know the quill is better than the razor But only I can feel the Decay of my heart Remember your eyes are hazed by bias lies But only I can feel the Decay of my heart


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ole Shoebox

Hmm, a photograph
Two quarters and a dime
A half written note
A set of tags
A few keys and credit cards
Driver’s license and I.D.
Surprising what fits
In an ole shoebox
A few clothes thrown together
Some well pressed
An old pair of sneakers
And well polished shoes
A mind full of memories
A room full of emptiness
No doubt the room
Will be filled again
The box handed over
And the memories lived
I’d just rather not 
Be holding these tags
Through the silenced laughter
Echoes the days we knew
How with hair on fire
How high we flew
Larger than life
Now within my hands
In what I hold
So much more is told
Than a few items in a box
For what lies within
Is a life well lived
Cut much too short
For a greater cause
So surprising it is
What fits in an ole shoebox
I’d just rather not 
Be holding these tags
And damn my friend
I so want you back


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Land of Graves

Land of Graves

A land of graves makes for quiet neighbors.  
He who blessed or cursed extant thereupon remains 
Shall suffer little disturbance at the will of his resting countrymen.  
The deep silence of an irrevocable sleep pervades his surrounds.  
His own sleep mimics that of his departed brethren 
But that kin to living rest is a far colder, everlasting condition.  
Lest it be by the appearance of some revenant, 
His nights will be those of uninterrupted stillness.  
The surface of this vast earthen sarcophagus is adorned with faltering monuments- 
The souls of their corresponding constituency have long-since dispersed in nihilum- 
Leaving playing children and Springtime Sunday-afternoon-passersby 
To speculate on their origins and exits, lives and times.  
But make no mistake this is not a wholly moribund environment.  
There is life in this soil yet.  There is an irrepressible profusion reclaiming 
This tomb from its own looming finality.  The tomb is rendered womb by its power.  
The tomb-womb is green.  It is a garden, a park, a yard and an arboretum.  
It is a charnel conservatory of the deceased, yes, but this sepulchered meadow 
Exists as much if not more for those with air in their lungs and blood 
In their veins as it does for those buried beneath its grassy lawns.  
Though in little more than a generation even the freshest entries into its 
Assembly will receive only sparing or incidental visitation.  
The ancestry hobbyist and the armchair genealogist will pay their homage.  
The digger of graves and the mower of lawns will be more frequent still.  
Is maintenance in the face of inevitability an exercise in courage or folly?  
Perhaps it is just necessary for life to go on. 


Details | Free verse | |

the principles on southeast center

          I

how could i know him his eyes say
but my eyes reply which of us may speak to that
be busy in the house that needs fixing
despite histories in three
and homes as safe as the clicking of gates

and grassblades fidget at hems where summer whispers
bluegrey hands of the watering can
tuck layers against its lime-rimmed chest
 
          II

he rips and hacks down and stacks the rubbish hastily 
where the garbage bins once sat and even those 
were absconded off in the short days after
 
what transience his playhouse has framed
now makes a curious fence for bikers towing their children 
or friends chastening friends
perhaps your anonymous landlords
 
under the roof in the carshop
are objects as phantom as their own shadows
where the oilcan floor receives a calcified light

where congealed baydoors face clotted to the
life growing hardy and peculiar
below the synonymous rooftop 

           III

a dry-lipped curve of water
finds nerves beneath seventeen windowbars
so that all is safe and the insides are secure 
they rumor threats and do they make those too
armed with the fact of so many bars

she sobs
and the way my nerves shake like grass-light
and the bald man there with the timid grip looking at her 
where even the garbage bin is gone
i rarely do see her
once i saw her smile furtively

suddenly a vulgarity in earshot 
my brother coughs laughter off his gridlined paper
to me or to the world or to the story he was written into
and i laugh a foreign neighborly coin

          IV

hit the rode jack plays splashes of whiskey 
we jesters overhear police uniforms walking heads down
their feet chaperoning them from the backyard
the screwed up faces of strangers cum luna

you ever see anything like that
and the other bursts a reflux of no up from his throat 
seen bodies but not like that man 
all of this in the synoptic lidless eye of his flashlight

hit the road jack plays obscenely for the residents
and absurd vultures pick for audiovideo giblets
well the cats have a new place behind what is for us
the portcullis of our home

          V

the cat is notorious from the flyer on the pole
the father fixes everything he can
and transient eyes look upward in the night 
at catshadows scratching the air
our fence was his playhouse was his rubbish is a ribcage
young ones arent a problem but we still need to keep watch
because no one will do it until someone does it and then everyones doing it







Details | I do not know? | |

Escape

Maybe its my mind that's moving,
Navigating at my choosing,
When each thought is just a step,
To find what's lost just so its kept....
Although I seem to sense sensation,
I'm confused by it's duration,
It seems that certain things I touch,
Are dreams that I believe that much....
A slow release as I start to wrestle,
As my beliefs free me from this vessel,
I reach for stars that surround the moon,
Leaving all the scars was my cocoon....
Without a body I can spread my wings,
And drift away as the choir sings,
I was the hostage inside of me,
That's now unbound with my mind set free...


Details | Senryu | |

Death Has Come To Call

eventual perch

raven sits on empty chair

death has come to call.

 

(January 18, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)


(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Lyric | |

Mental Masochism

Welcome to the old you Hello, Hello, Despair so Crude, Dreams are gone Yet we still follow the old Path Where empathy kills And the Sympathy we find is another Lie You were born to deceive A puppet-master of emotion Back off this fixation while you have a chance Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Sorrow-- My Emotional High Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Better to be Frozen than Numb Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Exchange pleasure for pain It's all coming t you The facade of Joy falls again Violet Hearts crush easy Your Pain you don't Want this Your Sorrow, You Want This Back off this fixation while you have a chance Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Sorrow-- My Emotional High Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Better to be Frozen than Numb Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Back off this fixation while you have a chance Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Sorrow-- My Emotional High Who Would Want To Be This Cold? Better to be Frozen than Numb Who Would Want To Be This Cold?


Details | Sonnet | |

funeral of a stranger

he lived within the village I know
and yet I never knew him though 
we didn't actually live far apart
his passing leaves me not unhurt

for in the knowing of his existence
and his reputation for excellence
I now feel the void of his passing
today our humanity's under staffing

the expressions of so many now
laughing past their grief some how
to their history when he was here
their times spent together do endear

each to the other - from past to now
I'm touched by this stranger anyhow

© Goode Guy 2012-05-18


Details | I do not know? | |

Thoughts Of Death (Will To Live)

Death is only a dream,
That seems like eternity,
From which you wake up...
And then find yourself
Someplace, somewhere else.

Another has taken their own life,
Again these people are feeling
Even more emotional strife.
Once have had thoughts of doing the same…

(To eventually give up on my own life…)
But then I give consideration 
Towards other people’s
Thoughts and feelings…
I’ll give them each a lifetime’s moments of me
Being alive…

As I go through this dark tunnel,
I always strive for the light at the end.
For now, those who are gone,
Their spirit brighten this lantern of mine.


Details | Lyric | |

Deader Than Dead

Someone died last night
And no one even seems to be taking notice of their passing
Who had once been, is no more
It wasn't reported on the front page of the news
Or on the back page either, for that matter.

Their soul must have just floated
From here to there
Or from there to here
Quietly depending
On what their religious views had been.

I wouldn't have even known
Except for the quiet whisperings
Of relatives on the phone...

Still making plans...
Still talking...
Still breathing...

Even though that person they were talking about
Is no longer here.

Deader than Dead.
That's what someone said
They said that this person
Looked Deader than Dead.


That's what they said.

 

(January 26, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Lyric | |

What a Lost Soul

Since I am Here The Veil grows Stronger but, You're not here for me I'm just-- Another Lost Soul you know, The people you find on the curbs on streets, During Rainy Days not going anywhere but Deeper into their own Disease but, It's not a disease, for they look for cures for diseases Here the patient cares not Only I could say something like that but since I'm here I just might as well sit on the curb on a rainy day and drown in a new-state-disease what A lost soul I am never enough could satisfy always more What a Lost Soul