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Death Happy Poems | Death Poems About Happy

These Death Happy poems are examples of Death poems about Happy. These are the best examples of Death Happy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

- Bubbly Cheerful And Happy -


                           In a small town there lived a little lady
                                  The lady`s name was Lucinda
                     Lucinda was always bubbling, cheerful and happy
                           When she laughed here rolling laughter,
                              both her cheeks and bosom shaked
                          She was a beautiful woman with wide hips,
                              and a butt as big as a dinner table
                           Lucinda was old and walking was difficult
                                and life was not so easy for her
                              She had not so much in this world,
                               but she always brought a bicycle
                         Everyone in the small town would help her
                                        as best they could
                 Whatever you did for her, she thanked  with these words:
                             "You shall have my old bike when I die"
                Following the bubbling laughter, shaking cheeks and bosom
                           Everyone in the small town knew Lucinda,
                                 loved her and wanted to help her
                                     Same thanks every time:
                            "You shall have my old bike when I die"
                                        Now Lucinda is dead
                    Her bike the city has received as a gift from Lucinda
                   If you see a bike in the flower park in the small town
                  Is it to remind the beloved sweet, rolling round Lucinda 
                                 that was always cheerful and happy

A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Free verse | |


He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
All results of

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

Details | Rhyme | |

My Departed Friends

             Oh! Those whom I loved and cared that left this world
  Enjoying the bliss of heaven when my heart wreaths in pain
  Free from anguish and agony and attitudes apathetic and cold
Away from burning sunlight of hatred, ruthlessness and strain

My loving parents and my little sister departed one by one
The infinite mercy of the Creator granted them joy of heaven
 For me the luscious trees of love gave way to burning sun
       The path of life turned thorn infested, rocky and uneven
 The lustful demons of merciless world waiting for me on way
               My only weapon, my resolute, indomitable will
With God behind my relentlessness I conquered life in a sway
Lonely nights followed crowded days dreary, dreadful still

Then showered on me God’s sagacious and profound recompense 
Through love and compassion my beleaguered soul thrived
    On desert of life came the rain-filled clouds of loyalty of friends
    Roses bloomed, nightingale sang, life’s elegance revived

         But happy days are shorter than the morning dew’s life
You Manzoor, Arif, Marghub,.Nisar, Mehmuda, Ismat, Harry and Jo.
Who were spared the pains of this world of conflicts and strife.
Tranquility of heaven is your destiny, Aftab, Ferreira and Remigio

Your abode has elegant pink shadows and golden sunlight
    Fragrant rivers and gardens with flowers of colors unseen
Pebbles of emeralds and rubies present the sight’s delight
Gushing fountains, silvery lakes, hills and valleys ever green

 These bounties are rewards of goodness and your virtuous deeds
Your kindness, your compassion, and your illuminated soul
The Creator, most merciful and benevolent gifts beyond one needs
     More than lofty aspirations and much beyond your goal.

    Happy though I am for you I must still complain
                      Why you chose to desert me; why you left alone
The leaping flame of loneliness is my destiny again
The path to eternal bliss you took, to me you should have shown

Copyright © Mohammad Yamin

Details | Rhyme | |

Petals of Dream

City of glamor dressed in its finest; 
stars fall down at her feet. 
Crowds shout her name; 
pull the curtain and let the show begin. 

The mob turns on their wildness, 
"here she comes, bow down your head!" 
Let's toast our drinks, share her flesh. 
Pay for the glory, she offers free. 

But beneath her glance is a rotten dream, 
dying to be loved and shed her tears. 
With the arms of a warrior, 
Her wounds to be healed. 

Lights are off, rest in peace. 
The knight in shining armor has come. 
Pick up those petals scattered in hell. 
Happiness isn't a forever dream. 

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres

Details | Free verse | |

My Love After Death

You can call my name but you wont hear me answer
At least no in this physical world
You know, my love, that I never wanted to be
Separated from you
What I would do to take everything back
What I would do to stop you from crying
You need to go on with your life
And just leave me as just a memory

Though I may be dead now, I still live
I am still alive within you
And know one thing now
I love you and will always as I eternally sleep

Hold my hand, isn’t it cold?
Well know that on the inside it is warm
To see you happy is a dream that I still hold onto
From this day forward
What I would do to hear your voice again
What I would do to express my love for you
But since I love you so much
I want you to be happy and move on

Though I may be dead now, I still live
I’ll be alive in spirit, honey
But I haven’t left without
Leaving you a gift as well as my will

What I would do to see you again
What I would do to say, “I love you” again
But you needn’t focus on me
For I’m still with you, just now a part of you

Though I may be dead now, I still live
You shall see a part of me again soon
Just 9 months from now
You will see some on me with a part of you
A new creation because of my love for you…

Copyright © Samuel Obazee jr.

Details | I do not know? | |

~Unforgiving Soul~

Life can be beautiful and long. Or life could be short and depressing. Some people 
act happy when they are sad. Their anger will grow and only get mad.  Fear to live 
can be so strong. Some people will cut life short before they're time. They feel 
the only way out is suicide. For death is a gift that God gave us. But love is a 
choice that some don't follow. The hatred rejection breathes can turn you hallow. 
Your eyes tell the truth of an unforgiving soul. The darkness you seek is out of 
control. One day at a time it consumes you. Then at last your finally threw. You 
are bitter and heartless, angered, and cold. Sooner or later your evil will unfold. 
You have gone into hiding and left the light. Any chance you get you try to fight. 
The pain you buried so many years ago. The scars and fears of an unforgiving soul. 
Your day will come and you will forgive. The child you saved was abandoned and 
hide. Your life is peaceful and calm. Your little baby will grow up happy and 
strong. You saved a life and got yours back. You had so much pain and rage filled 
attacks. You can sleep without the dreams of a viscous man. Everything is Better 
now you can finally think. You stop and wonder why he took that last drink? Why he 
abused your young body? Where he was when he hid? Why he did the things he did? 

Copyright © Paige Meyer

Details | I do not know? | |


i want to leave this world 
so you can no longer hurt me
huge mountains of rejection 
seem to be surrounding me
i don't want to follow
those who have gone
but there seems no other choice
when i'm straining to go on
i picture happy places
when i'm in my dreams
but to find a happy ending
is impossible to see
it's a single chair
in a cold, white room
no beautiful butterfly
breaking free from the cocoon

Copyright © lucy campbell

Details | Epitaph | |


John was as a free bird, happy,
Living his life, happy.
When others were sad John, happy,
When John did go no one, happy.
For life is not long at all,
And man is a shadow on a wall,
A wall of time.

John our dearly departing 
Death will end his suffering.
Cruel death will do him a favor,
As he will carry him to his Savior.
Writing his will he creates the kiss of death;
This kiss marks him till his final breath.

Here comes a pale horse click, clack, click, clack
Upon it sits Death click, clack, click, clack.
Death rides down the street,
He stops, he looks
For the man with no heart beat,
He enters more silently than the best of crooks.

Death left while carrying John,
Got on his horse and carried on.
John is now in Heaven;
Where no heathen
Nor sickness roam,
Sitting by the white throne;
Walking on the streets of gold;
Never to become old.
Happy... Happy...
Eternally... Happy...

Copyright © Isaiah Powell

Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Rhyme | |

Happy Question

Today I am going to hop my way to my brother.
To tell him how I feel about not being together.
I thought I could be so kind.
I saw him by the road side and I was blind.
I could just end it all by now.
Today I tried a cow.
It really was hard to do.
Then I hired a semi crew.
I watched carefully, darn he is fast!
My name is Happy ?, I'm Easter's brother who is sad.
He painted eggs that made me jealous and bad.
I hopped one day and he threw an egg at me.
My heart became really cold that memory was key.
I finally thought of it an accident really is going to happen.
Happy Easter is going to be laugh-en.
Good to see you, I said to a mystery man.
I was told not to associate with any human.
It was my last resort.
The man had a sports car a beautiful sort.
I was desperate, now, I'm in a bunny court.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Fault Of Thyself

Fault Of Thyself

For every man there is reward.
For every man there are consequences.
Which kind of man are you?
For the brave man, there is honor.
For the cowardice man, there is desertion.
For the stone man, there is isolation.
For the weeping man, there is no shame.
For the anger man, there is violence.
For the patient man, there is a reward.
For the observant man, there is a puzzle.

For every woman there one man who fits her.
Be she the reward.
Be she the consequence. 
She is the Queen to the King.

Be she the honorable, for the brave man.
Be she the deserter, for the cowardice man.
Be she the isolatar, for the stone hearten man.
Be she right hand of no shame, for the weeping man.
Be she the perfect reward, for the patient man.
Be she the puzzle, for the observant man.

A man who can never handle a woman during her most awful, destructive days then he does not deserve her on her wonderful, perfect day.

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes

Details | Rhyme | |

Happy Mothers Day

This Mothers day is different,
 not like the years before
 it leaves me feeling sad
 my heart a little sore.

 I know you're watching over,
 tracing steps I take
 careful there to guide me
 whenever my heart aches.

 So I'm sending hugs and kisses,
 all my earthly love
 to one special angel
 my Mama up above.

 Mom just know I love you,
 your right here in my heart
 and every time it beats
 were not so far apart.

 I know were not together,
 not the same old way
 but I still love you very much
 Happy Mothers Day.

Jessica Thompson-5/19/14

Copyright © Jessica Thompson

Details | Acrostic | |


Judas betrayed Jesus’s whereabouts
End, was near
Son of God, knew this
Universe of the Son of the Divine Father, restored
Sins of man forgiven, Prince of our Universal domain, alive in the hearts of his children

Copyright © Amy Rose

Details | Lyric | |

The pen is mightier than the sword

The pen is mightier than the sword

What is it about some people?
Have they no minds of all
To me their puppets on a string
As they follow all the rules
Whether they make sense at all
That’s all beside the point
They believe all that their leaders say
When it comes to the simple joint!

Our leaders they have called the shots
On this and all that matters
They come to us on the TV set
And I hear their foolish chatter
Our premier with pigeon mind
Was heard to say one day
That cannabis is a killer drug
Or almost any way.

Now I have smoked for forty years
And not once have I ever
Suffered from this gentle weed
These leaders might be clever
Or think they are, through their position
But to me they’re simply fools
But they give me cause to laugh out loud
They’re so damned comical.

23 July 2013 @ 1133hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Epitaph | |

Ruth Helen Uhrig 1888-1908

Ruth Helen Uhrig

1888 – 1908

I remember the Indian summers most of all.
The drowsy balmy days of late September and early October.
I remember the calming chorus of the trees,
Especially here in Clark Cemetery,
With the benign wind caressing the still branches,
Teasing and tickling the leaves,
Performing masterfully,
The silent music of a thousand lazy afternoons.
Listen. Can you hear it?
And I recall that afternoon in 1903
While standing under the shady pepper tree,
Here in Clark Cemetery
That moment of sweet virginal bliss.
That long-forgotten one second in time,
When that blue-eyed fox named Roscoe
Kissed me, a mere girl of 15, on the lips.
There, on the threshold to my very soul!
Oh, the true joys of life are so simple and so fleeting!
And finally,
To my friends in old Whittier town,
I discovered after my demise that, 
There is a happy way to die and a sad way to die.
And it will all depend on how well you treated people while alive.
Thankfully, I died the happy way.
In my sleep.
Dreaming of the silent music,
On a long-ago afternoon in September,
Under the old shady pepper tree,
Here in Clark cemetery

Copyright © stark hunter

Details | Free verse | |

Last Kiss

Open your eyes to the ever turning skies 
I want to here with me through the night 
My heart yearns into your soul 
Burning as if newly lit coal 
I bravely submerg the embers 
That the time I have can be spent with you 
And I remember each kiss every moment 
I was caught in your love that for just this day I remember 
So what happened was a chance for your love 
A time that I kept in a locket tied with a kiss 
 I wanted you to feel, to love, to slumber 
And to awake in my arms with that times kept bliss 
I lay silient in an umber

Copyright © Courtney Courtney

Details | Concrete | |

Silent Cries

Im look happy on the outs but Im sad deep inside. 
I know none of ya'll mother ****ers gonna see my silent hidden cries. 
Death's right around the corner so if I die I die with honor not pride. 
In this life of mine everyday is a do or ****ing die. 
Here in the land of OZ you face the truth even if it's a ****ing lie. 
Here you either do or you don't, ain't no such thing as giving it a try. 
Here fantasy ain't *****once the truth hits you finally realize. 
I was once a young lost soul trying to fit in and be just another one of the "guys".
 Smoking weed getting drunk feeling so dam low while getting so dam high. 
Flying so dam low at the same time walking so dam high Im fly. 
I know not one person here can understand or know my hidden cries. 
The only one who can truly understand me is the one who I pray to in the sky. 
I know I look happy but I feel like *****from side to side, 
I need to better understand my own silent cries......

Copyright © Travis Lone Hill

Details | Narrative | |

Peace Tonight

I sleep in peace tonight.
Hope that day will come.
When I find you underneath the 
Waiting for me and a life that never 
For Eternal love will always be 
And you will know that I care no 
matter the troubles.
That even If death were to come, it 
be with us a couple.
I sleep in peace tonight.
Hoping my family loves, and so do 
my friends.
And that God may forgive for all my 
Because when I am gone, let there 
be not a tear shed.
But a laugh of remorse, and that you 
treed lightly.
For I will sleep in peace tonight.

Copyright © Tanner Anderson

Details | Narrative | |

In memory of Bob

In memory of Bob
A true story.

It was in spring of two thousand when I first saw Bob. I’d just started working at Perth Dental hospital, and in fact it was my first day there. I walked up to the front door of this building, but it wasn’t yet opened. So I turned around and went to sit in the bus shelter which was just outside the building. As I went to sit down I noted a dark skinned gentleman sitting there with a happy, benign look on his face. He was about five feet eight give or take a little, and he was rather a thickset man who looked like he’d done his fair share of hard work in his sixty years or more.

     There was something about this Gentleman that I could not quite put my finger on. He had a certain charisma about him; not the phony kind of charisma that one seen in the car salesman or the philanderer who messes with women’s heads, no, Bob had a kind of friendly smile for everyone that he met, and he seemed to draw people into him with his love, and gigantic heart. I knew as soon as I met him that Bob was most definitely for me.

      As Bob looked at me and smiled, the whole world seemed to open up. He said “Ow ya  going mate” in a loud ebullient manner, then we started to chat. Bob was like myself, a thinker, and straight away we started philosophizing about this, that, and the other, and it was like we had known each other forever. Then all of a sudden I found Bob talking about death, and the difference in the way the Maori people faced death, compared to the rather the silly way us white folk look at the subject with great fear in our hearts. Now this had always interested me, and  somehow it just seemed natural to talk to this Maori gentlemen on this subject, and we spoke about it till the doors opened and it was time to work.

      I don’t think anything happens just by chance, and I definitely have this feeling that Bob and I were meant to meet, and I really think this was a major destiny thing. I have found during the course of my life,  that as I am aging, I can feel something pushing me into a certain direction, and I always felt that Bob was part of all this; and I had much to learn from him. Although I have never believed in organized religion, and never followed one I have always felt deeply spiritual, and I have met many people who I learned from, and Bob was most definitely one of them with all his great wisdom and patience. As I came to know Bob, we had many dialogues together, on many subjects. Bob used to love music and could always have time to plonk away on his guitar. He used to come round to my place and we would play songs together, though both he and I were no Eric Clapton’s, I would bang around on my guitar and play the harp, while we would both take out turns at singing. We’d have a smoke or a beer or two, and we’d play songs all day long,  ahhh, I remember those days well, the memories are so strong.

     Bob was one hell of a man, I could tell that he had been a wild one in his youth,
But when I knew him in his sixties he was an icon of wisdom and virtue; he had a kind word for everyone, and gave all his time to anybody who needed him, always.
He used to hear me waffling on like an idiot, trying to make him like me [as I always did] but never once did he tell me how foolish I was, he would just smile knowingly at me. He used to stand there at the window for hours, just drinking in the trees, or the clouds in the sky, and yet he was so aware, I used to try to sneak up on him; it couldn’t be done. His awareness was incredible.

     Then one day Bob fell ill with terminal cancer, and he knew that he had very little time left on this Earth. He lay there sick for days in intolerable pain,  but you never heard one complaint from him, even when he only had days to live, he was still worrying about the welfare of others. When the day finally come for Bob to leave his shell; he was lying there in deep sleep, when all of a sudden he woke up, with a smile on his face. His children asked him ‘Dad, do you want some pain killers” Bob laughed, compassion written all over his face, and he said to them ‘Not one of you has a clue, have you’ and he died with a big smile on his face.

   His daughter got in touch with me, and told me about his death, and also told me that his last wish was to have me watch his soul leave his body. I felt very honored about this and went and sat with his body [as Maoris do]. I got the most peaceful feeling come to me [which I presume was his spirit leaving his body] as I watched his silent body, a Mari war stick and a beautiful rose lay across his chest. I still see it, and I feel blessed by it. He was my Maori warrior, and I adored the man.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

If I Shall Grow Old 2K13

If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.

Copyright © Anthony O. Mitchell Jr.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

Copyright © Bill Kim

Details | Carpe Diem | |

Questioning Life

Forget! Regret not, for it all has intention...
To attempt comprehension leads to double block wall.
In searching your question, much more loss is gotten, 
Confusion, dismay a deeper dug hole.
Infinitely seeking you strive for some meaning, 
the truth is quite simple you are not sole at all! 
Infusion connection the union eternal, 
Is easy to grasp when knowledge of whole,
is truly encountered from deep within query
The meaning the truth the love of it all...
Once trouble & strife and struggle are missing,
The clear light of being shows beauty once more.
Accept what is given agree to the treaty.
Fight not with your fears, and answer your call.
Find substance in living, step over delusions. 
Regardless of meaning, life’s radiance will soar.
So use this awareness these words and this practice,
Come forth tall and sturdy, head high and recall..
When sad and when empty in need of intention,
No doubts I plead! No need to explore!
Emotions you hold are sensed by your siblings,   
Your waves of sensation your truth and your soul... 
Are parts of us all, we are all together we are all but one!
In oneness we’re whole! 

Copyright © maya chaar

Details | I do not know? | |

That happy smile of this Girl I know

I want a reason to live
My heart wrenches in pain all too often
Tears stream down my cheeks 
Trembling lips
An urge to scream loudly

I hold it all in. 

There are way too many thoughts swirling in my head
Dizziness and a feeling of loneliness 
Creeping right under my skin
A mental breakdown is soon to show

I hold it all in.

Everyday I get closer to believe
Death might be a better place
For one who is nothing
but a hindrance to oneself 

I hold it all in.

Thoughts of doing harm again
It is getting tough not to do so
Letting everything spill on the floor
The water stealing every drop away

I hold it all in.

Weights fallen drastically 
Who notices, no one
Trying to be pretty
Who am I kidding?
I am nothing but bones
A shell yet full of too many emotions. 

La la la la.
 Mind not clear.
 Eyes clouded. 
Throat soar. 
Body numb.
 I want to leave.

Somewhere faaaaar away. 

I am afraid of the day 
I can not hold it all in
That day shall be
My Death
Wandering off to somewhere else
Fed with lies from all sides

I am Alone.

Copyright © Juliett Green

Details | Rhyme | |

Happy Memorial Day

Happy Memorial day

Sitting where he one time stood
never one time trying to brag.
He chokes on his own teardrops
as he salutes the American flag.

Recalling brothers that have died
that stood by him in war.
Brothers in adversity
that don't come home no more.

He blinks to fight the memories
that are flashing through his mind.
Just like in his dreams at night
like a movie on rewind.

He can hear grenades exploding
he can hear the brave men cry.
He still hears the prayers they prayed
as they prepared to die.

With visions of the blood soaked ground
the world will never know.
All the horrors he has seen
as his tears start to flow.

Just beyond the flag he sees
children playing in a park.
People sitting home tonight
will walk the streets at dark.

Without a single thought in mind
of things that used to be.
And those now buried in the ground
so others could be free.

He turns his wheelchair in the grass
and starts to roll away.
And whispers quietly to his friends
Happy Memorial day.

Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert

Details | Free verse | |


The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.

21 February 2013

Copyright © Smail Poems

Details | Light Poetry | |

Death of the Dinosaurs

Everyone has a theory on what killed out all the great big Dinosaurs.
I’m the only one who knows, what happened, that stopped their roars.
It’s just a little common sense, to figure out what it was, I conclude.
You see, all those big Dinosaurs were eating up tons of yummy food.

And you must surely know that, what goes in, has to come out, too.
Yep, you’re beginning to get my drift, as it was caused by dino-poop.
I’ll admit, dragon gave me the idea, as I daily continue to pooper scoop.
But there’s a difference between then and now, for volume was the oops.

Man! Those were voracious BIG eating machines… You begin to see?
The black layer, found in the ground, all over the world, was completely…  
Made of ashed, Dino-poop! You see? The world was covered, miles deep…
In the building dino-poop, they say, there’s also, methane there, in heaps. 

So where did it come from? Yep you guessed it, again… Dino-poop.
It came out of the dino- poop, while being squished into fields of oil.
And why do you think, it was a comet, came in and blew them all away?
All it took was a streak of lightening in the pollution of the air, one day.

Yep, one little spark ignited… to get rid of the old, and in with the new.
Methane is highly explosive, and nitroglycerine, comes from poop, too.
You see, no one destroyed them, they did it all to themselves! Ya think?
Why are there still dragons? Because fire doesn’t bother them, so rethink!

Explosions couldn’t get to them, since they don’t poop inside their big caves.
Yep, Dragons were the very first, ecology minded living things, of that day. 
That’s why…Dragons are on Chinese calendars and not dinosaurs today.
So that’s why Dragons are smug, self-centered and expect to be obeyed.

Because they’re the only ones, my dear, who knew what was coming, there.
Still, they tried to warn all the dinosaurs, which refused to listen, anywhere.
So they retreated into their caves, for a long nuclear winter of restful sleep.
Grandpa Troll confirmed it, for he slept there, with Dragons, in caverns deep.

Now I ask you, would you go into a cave of dragons, as your ancestors did do?
Or would you be one of the oblivious, who back then… didn’t have a clue?

2-11-2015 Dragon says potty humor rocks!

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | I do not know? | |

From Then To Now

Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
Because no stress was in our 
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
But misunderstanding broke us 
Anna and I still smiled and 
And joked about our bouncy 
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
And school started pulling us 
Anna and I still laughed and 
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations

Details | Prose | |

A Happy Ending

A ringing bell in the near-distance makes her delicate body tremble, as she sat on the corner of the opaquely purple stained living room sofa. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. She grew in despair of how that pattern of sound had aroused the tiny hairs on her crinkling hands. She exhales repulsively the last draft of the cigarette she just turned off. A glance at the silver-rimmed ashtray, which rests an arm’s reach away, powerfully depicts that it was one of those nights again. 

 She was content not too long ago. Pampered by his tender words. He was the father of the children they never had. She would name her first born Alexander. Defender of Man. They would live a joyful life, far away from the city’s lights. Far away from it all. 

 That day he did not pick up his gun and secure it in his holster from the smoothly sanded wooden table near the bed they shared as he went to work. That day he did not kiss her forehead, a gesture of safety, which she was so used to every morning. The silent kiss reassured her, everything will be okay and that he will be back sooner than later. That day he did not wake her up from her sleep. Not intentionally at least. That day she woke up to the sound of a bang in the near-distance of their home. That day she was surrounded with thick red. That day she understood how selfish human beings can be. 

She began to shiver uncontrollably, tightly grabbing her left elbow with her right hand. She picks up a container of sky blue ovals which lay on the table in front of her next to her near-empty pack of cigarettes. She recalls what the doctor had said, “One every time you get an attack, ONE ONLY.” One never did the job, neither did five. That day she took ten. That day she slept well.

Copyright © Jeffrey Feghaly

Details | Free verse | |

September Weather

Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Limerick | |

Not the material guy

Not the material guy

I’m not the material guy
Ambitions were never for I
I’m always the one
That gets noting done
I’m a dreamer, I cannot deny.

My mind it is not very clever
My heart is as light as a feather
My manner is free
Like a bird in a tree
And I never will worry, not ever

Just like a river I’ll flow
And always my heart it will glow
I won’t push the river
So life does deliver
A feeling that each day does grow

Until the day that I die
I won’t let a day pass me by
Without looking at me
At within, what I be
As always I’ll ask ‘Who am I?’

18 September 2013 @1800hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan