Grave Time Poems

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Details | Rhyme |
Halloween: The Best Time of the Year

Halloween
Frightening
Everything about the nonliving
Everything about the dead
Scary stories to be said
Monsters coming out from under your bed
All in one night
All in the biggest fright
Lock your doors really tight
Trick or treat
Smell my feet
Don’t give me no rotten meat!
Candy everywhere
Scary masks giving you a stare
Giving you a scare
Toothaches
People acting fake
Zombies come and wake
Knock on every door
Abandon houses to explore
Stay safe worried moms implore
Flying witches on brooms
Wake up the tombs
You are doomed!
Pumpkins glow out light
Clock strikes midnight
Kids wandering around is still a sight
Children eat pumpkin pie
Watch movies where people die
This night is no lie
Old men hitting teenagers with their canes
People loosing their brains, all aboard the haunted train!
All humans drinking cider
Watch out for hooligan hiders
Watch out for creepy crawly spiders!
Halloween is my favorite time of the year
Everything is to be feared
Everything is a little to near

Copyright © Aidan Gilbert | Year Posted 2015




Details | Prose Poetry |
1

I stood by your graveside this cold winters day.

A heart broken with sorrow that won’t go away.

I called out your name and shed many a tear.

And hoped in my heart that you would appear.

2

God took you from us that fine sunny morning.

Our lives now shattered without any warning.

Your work here on earth has finished this year.

Your books and teachings you spread  far and near.

3

It was a pleasure to know you for sixty odd years.

And when my time comes I will have no fears.

You will be waiting to greet me as oft times before.

When I call to your house and knock on the door.

4

Each night when I lay my head down to sleep.

I will ask the lord your soul to keep.

And if you find any time away from your books.

Look kindly on me as I walk in those woods.

Copyright © Patrick Ronan | Year Posted 2007

Details | Dramatic monologue |
God moves a universe 
like a child playing marbles...
Holds the shooter 
between the thumb and index finger,
at the speed of light planets collide
galaxies whirl in a sea of miracles
shattering the taw called impossible.
Colors explosions- space and time
expanding contracting breathing exhisting
a billion years dancing without witness...
planets blue planets green-planets 
in the beginning
planets at the end
planets full of living-planets filled with death...

the great contraction comes
everything that ever will be 
and that ever was...
the voices the footsteps
the wars and loves
everything layed  out before 
(on the rosary of god)
hail mary full of grace
take us to infinity,
infinity's pristine
grave.

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2012




Details | Prose Poetry |
As I stand here in front of my closet , starring in to the space...
I wonder which black dress to choose, and how I am going to face..
All the guests that will be there , at your final resting place...
I look in the mirror and what do I see ?
But cuts and scratches all over me...
Although I don’t feel any physical pain...
Oh, what’s that I hear ?..could it be rain ?
I miss you already...what went wrong ?..
We were driving along just listening to our favorite song...
I remember the curve on that old mountain road...
And then heard the train crash... and then explode...
Time to go called out my Mother...
It was a cold November morning, and very heavy rain...
And I swear I heard the whistle of a train...
As I looked around I could see...
So many friends and family...
Standing in the crowd was Aunt Sarah and Uncle Fred...
OMG ! I thought they were dead...
And there’s dear old Michael...
I had heard he crashed his motorcycle...
All of a sudden I saw YOU stand...
With a bright red rose, you held in your hand...
What are you doing I wanted to shout...
But then I realized what you were about...
You dropped the rose upon MY grave...
It was then I realized You were the one that was saved...

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
 As I stand here in front of my closet , starring in to the space...
I wonder which black dress to choose, and how I am going to face..
All the guests that will be there, at your final resting place...
I look in the mirror and what do I see  ?
But cuts and scratches all over me...
Although I don’t feel any physical pain...
Oh, what’s that I hear?... could it be rain ?
I miss you already...just what went wrong ?..
We were driving along just listening to our favorite song...
I remember the curve on that old mountain road...
And then heard the train crash... and then explode...
Time to go called out my Mother...
It was a cold November morning, and very heavy rain...
And I swear I heard the whistle of a train...
As I looked around I could see...
So many friends and family...
Standing in the crowd was Aunt Sarah and Uncle Fred...
OMG  ! I thought they were dead...
And there’s dear old Michael...
I had heard he crashed his motorcycle...
All of a sudden I saw YOU stand...
With a bright red rose, you held in your hand...
What are you doing I wanted to shout...
But then I realized what you were about...
You dropped the rose upon MY grave...
It was then I realized... You  were the one, that was saved...

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Can I catch you
Can you stay?
Forests at wood
There we play
A gentle hand 
That fixed the dress
Brushing tears back
Saving stress
I can not bare
The oaken wave
Only memories
Can I save
I miss your hair
And what it covered
More than a mind
God knows I loved her
The ghost I knew
She rests away
I can not catch you
You can not stay.

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Shape |
This Casuistry is a paradox Fallacious feelings repress A Sophistry you ingress Chemically redox Tergiversate under scrutiny. A misfit – an anachronism. Elusory emotions to express My argument a confused paralogism Chicanery Fugacious Piety worships AWAITING THE FALL An elaborate machination Formation of this Cabal To unravel this conspiracy Renegade inspiration A Live Grenade Revolution call. Societal crumblings A mind poisoned by barricades Limitations. Cures itself By questioning everything Invalidity, obscurity, corruption Topple under Plots of our Coterie Political pressure Militant insurgency Worship the gun Worship the steel Guerilla tactics Metro Urban Rurally Camouflaged pawns Stratagem Pieces on the board are people Playing for real. Didactic Leaders And Pedantic parents They’re history and experience In perspective reveals. Cycle of manipulative Elite, controlling The pariahs Starved in appeal.

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Her father’s grave was at the top of a hill overlooking hundreds of other plots with vases full of colorful poinsettias, white carnations, and decorations. Her name was Linda and it was Christmas time. She could see the beautiful arrangements everywhere she turned. The cemetery sat on top of the rolling hills overlooking the street. The backside was lined with large green poplar trees and grass that needed to be mowed. This was a peaceful place she thought to herself. This is how it should be for everyone who is in Heaven.  

She came to visit his grave every Wednesday evening after church. She liked to see the plot at night with the luminaries shining brightly. This time she invited her Aunt Sylvia to join her. It was Sylvia’s brother who was buried there. “See Sylvia”, Linda said, “Isn’t this splendid?” Sylvia replied, “Yes. But, I do not feel comfortable here. You do not know if all these souls went to heaven. And, if they didn’t where are they now?” Linda looked all around and at her father’s beautiful site and said, “With all this beauty, how can there be anything but goodness, here?” Sylvia shivered and responded, “Like I said, not all souls go to Heaven. You need to come during the day.” Linda laughed, “You’re not serious. This is a beautiful place. And, especially at night with all these beautiful colors.” Sylvia quickly responded, “It’s time to leave.” Linda, a little annoyed, said “Alright, alright.” And, they got into Linda’s car, and she drove Sylvia home. Very serious, Sylvia said, “Promise you will only go to the cemetery during the day.” Linda just shook her head.

The following Wednesday evening after church, Linda pulled her car up to her father's plot. She noticed his flowers were missing. So, were his luminaries, and Christmas decorations. She immediately called Sylvia. “Hi, Aunt Sylvia. It’s Linda. Have you been to my dad’s plot? His flowers and decorations are missing?” Sylvia retorted, “No, its evening time and a full moon. You should not be there. You NEED to leave!” Confused, Linda asked, “Why, what’s wrong?” Sylvia screamed, “Look around, are there any other flowers missing?” Linda, slowly turning around, noticed there were no flowers or decorations in her vision. Yelling and afraid, “Aunt Sylvia, there all gone!!! I’m running to my...” And, she was gone. Vanished. Sylvia, still on the phone, “Linda, Linda?"

 Sylvia was right, not all souls go to Heaven.

©Holly P. Moore
   November 2012

Copyright © HOLLY MOORE | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |





                                



                                         Long love day's has past.
                                 My mind felt with howling storms,
                                 grasping to hold on to vanishing love.
                                 Rape and abandon my weary soul
                                 transpires, poring with instant fires.
                                 Oh this dark secret love does thy life
                                 destroy.
                                 Like amorous birds of pray,
                                 Once ways, and known devoured
                                 Your beauty no more to befound
                                 nor shall the sound of your voice.
                                 Love to dust, love to ashes.
                                 Our love has now gone to a private place.
                                        The grave yard of love.

Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2008

Details | Ballad |
Don't stand at my grave,
An weep.
I'm not no long there.
I'm forever asleep
In a peaceful place.
You may look up,
  To the sky.
Maybe even daydream 
 Of are memories...
 I just ask this one
  Simple thing ...
Please don't cry,
Upon that stone
With my name engraved,
Cause that body is,
No longer mine...
I'm not there...
But I'm here somewhere at ease..
 Share are memories 
Tell are stories.
Cherish ever moment,
And soon enough.
ALL IN GREAT TIME
Forever by my side,
But it's not your time,
So get up and dry
Your crying eyes...
I'll be here no rush..
Together soon enough...
Don't give up...

Copyright © Chelsey D Moore | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
A weak shout louder than a gun shot
Out of a mouth full of depressed misery and dead emotions
A walk to infinity
A search for the light in a place so bright, yet so dark
Between sun light and dawn
Where birds sing for roses

Away in distance
Where destiny lead my way

It's going to be okay
Last words my ears choose to hear
To relieve the pain in my heart
Darkness filled my eyes
Don't try to make it shine
I smell the end
I feel the tears of grief drowning me alive

I lay down in my coffin
Under the soil
In the freezing ground
Isolated from all around
No need to make a sound
Or wear the mask that hides what's beneath

Surrounded with woods
beneath the ground just as I was
Tossed as a stone
Like a leaf fallen from an autumn tree into a lake so deep
With my skinless skull and wrist bones where cuts of regret cant be seen

I lay In my cave
In my only home
With my only friend
My rival my enemy
I can't let go...

Thoughts rushing into my mind
Bursting in and out
Words I never thought I'd speak
Words my tongue never dares to say
Well...now I know how it feels
Now after I'm gone

My lips are fading
My soul is drowning
My body is decaying 

I reach the limit
Where heart beats doesn't matter
Where I can't breathe the air
Where my only road is to hell
I'll bathe in fire from this day and forever

Never made you proud
Forgive me and make it better

Two roses laid on my grave
Endless time passes as the sun goes by
Nothing stirs 
Pure melody in silence
A selfish wind blows taking with it one 
and there goes one in vain dropping it to far away
I gaze through emptiness
Waiting for my eternal time to end
For my angel to appear
And save my weeping spirit from my sins
Which have become my reality...

Copyright © Nesma Alnsour | Year Posted 2009

Details | Couplet |
When papa wanted to pass on
Though only God knows the unknown

But papa this day spoke like he knows
It's time and he will soon go

Lying in the field with me by his side
'My son, listen my son' he breathed when he slid

Yet papa had his soul with him by then
'Don't lift me up, just find me paper and pen'

"We met and trade in this world
And so we'll live it" he scribbled

Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
Crusted Stones They rest in the empty silence silence attending midnight songs songs whispering to lovers tears tears long dried upon crusted stones visual #3 John G. Lawless submitted to – Four Lines Only – poetry contest 6/7/2015

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
I buried my heart that I swore to keep
On top of a hill where the willows weep
Forty-two years then time stood still
Underneath that tree on top of that hill

Surrounded by flowers, how I hate that smell
They remind me of death and a sad farewell
As I go to her grave and I sit by her side
I'm wishing that I was the one who had died

As I stare at the stone that has only one name
I'm trying my best to find someone to blame
When the sun starts to set, I don't want to leave
So I sit by her grave and I silently grieve

With forty-two years of heavenly bliss
Why does true love have to end like this?
She gave me her best for all of those years
I remember them all as I count all my tears

A promise was made that I swore to keep
I'd bury my heart where the willows weep
Beneath those sad trees on top of that hill
Is where my love lies, now time stands still

Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
I've allowed that burning boat to float off without me
Rarely ever thinking about dissipating the flames, 
As it is hardly worth the time and effort. 
In Truth, 
There wasn't much of a future with that situation.
No matter the attempts
No matter the appeal
It was all for naught
The only thing I worry about now
Is looking back at the Flames
And hoping I am not entranced
By their Dancing Light

Copyright © Epi C. A Phoenix Writer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Nonet |
Science and fiction can’t go hand in hand
Today, I feel tomorrow’s end
Beauty, wealth and stealth offend
My wild nature dreaming,
I see the planets
And the stars, moon
Through fake eyes
Lonely
Me.


The sky is wet, and so are my eyes
When morning hopes are beautiful
Summer springs call winter blues,
I sit by the window
And think to myself,
Scarlet hearts weep,
But I am
Blissful
If,


Today was passion, yesterday love
Guilty would smile from far above,
Fate and time would be confined
As my words would define 
All I ever sought,
The life I see
Life I want,
Unlike 
Now





~~For the contest 'A Journey Back In Time'~~

Copyright © Iman Roy | Year Posted 2010

Details | Epic |
A knife digs into my leg.
 I look down and see my leg turning the same colour as the other’s skin.
Rotting, putrid flesh, spreading its disease up my thigh.
Pain arcs across my chest, spilling into my neck. 
My hands, they’re becoming tentacles as well. 
I can feel my bones shattering, slicing through my skin.

A flash of pain, and I’m on my knees.
My head is splitting from the pain. I can’t even think.
What’s my name?
 Where am I?
 I hear a hoarse voice in the back of my mind.
Give in. Let go. Now.
Unfortunately I don’t have a choice. My mind, it feels crowded.
Something is in my mind. 
“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD!” I scream, deafening myself.
A blood red is creeping across my vision, clouding my view.
More piercing pain, I can feel my back snapping. 
I topple over to my side. My body is convulsing uncontrollably.
Finally, the pain gets the best of me. I can’t take it any longer.
The pressure in my head, consuming my being. 
I attempt one last bravado. 
I cling to one memory. 
The memory of the girl. 
My daughter. 
But soon even she is corrupted. 
The voice, calling to me. Tempting me. Strangling my mind. 

Then, just before I black out, I hear her voice.
Come play with the me. Join us.
The sickly sweet, echoing charm of her morphs into a deep, throaty rumble.

Join me in the grave.
I am the Gravemind.

Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Blank verse |
I was blinded by darkness
Not knowing where I planted each footfall
I had a body I had a heart
I had a mind and most of all a soul
I thought I was alive with happiness and joy
Alive with peace in my soul
But I was wrong dead wrong
I was all but dead to the world
It was Death that captured and trapped me
In a grave not letting go of me
In the end not knowing it was little ol’ me
Trying to breathe trying to fight my way out
Thinking I was almost there to the top but not even moving
I thought I was justified by my negativity and actions
Not knowing it was trapping me further down
Displaying the ignorance of my ways without caring for the ones I loved
The pain of it that was caused went noticed 
Everyone telling me but not realizing it until now
Letting the deceit and evil willingly roll off my tongue
Thinking I was always right on everything
Thinking that all I need was the trust of man
No matter how long I sat by the fire I was cold
Even when the sunlight was resting upon my skin
I was still ice cold as Death’s very own 
I did not think that life would be this dead within
The darkness of the ice cold abyss of the grave yard
Picking and choosing what to do seems right but it wasn’t
Trying again and again until finally picking up the one thing 
That I thought would not help me in the long run
Thinking that I had all the love in the world 
Knowing that nothing can bring me down was one
Of the biggest lies I made myself believe for so long
Thinking I had fait and love in my life but I was wrong
And in the end all there  is was nothing but darkness 
Deceit and evil rolling off the tongues of you so called 
People walking blindly through the shadows
Of the ever present grasp of Deaths darkest abyss
Of all the wickedness that has been committed in my life 
Why now has the Mighty Father and Mother given me a second chance 
Why have they forgiven me of my sins without a second thought
Have I really forgiven myself so the Father the Mother and the Divine
To enter my body my mind my heart and my soul
Has the Lord and the Lady really seen that I have been trying to 
Change and to become an adult woman mentally so my 
Husband can rely on me in the time of need like now
I thought I was ready to begin a life with kids 
Until I realized that I am still one myself
How will the Lord and Lady tell me when I am ready to have
The family I want with my husband who is my soulmate 
All I can do is wait ever so patiently for the moment
The Lord and Lady will tell me when I am ready 
Inside that dark grave a white light came to me
With a hand to pull me out of my hole I dug and saved me
From my own condemned version of hell after praying 
They deliver me from my sins and the trespasses I’ve done
What are people going to do when they see me 
Completely changed after the long visit to LCJ
God and Goddess thank you for saving my when I thought 
There was no way for me to be saved and unworthy of it
Again thank you for everything I currently have
In my life my wonderful loving husband that only
Sees the potential in me all the time and the love he 
Gives so unconditionally to me even when I 
Do wrong in his eyes or the law’s eyes please 
Show him the same lovingkindness and forgiveness you 
Have so heavily laid on me to realize and forgive 
Myself and those around me like I should
Have so long ago when you tried to show me the light
I have forgiven myself of the anger and hate I had
For my adopted family and now it is in the past I cannot 
Change that but however I can change how the future 
Goes by what I say and plan to do now today
I can look back not so long ago the darkness that 
Covered my eyes then and hope the light keeps the veil away
I can see all the negative emotions that were running 
And controlling me I had no idea what to do 
Now I am grateful for the things I have for 
The things I have come to realize on top of everything
I am the most thankful to you in my life 
When I thought I did not deserve the love 
And the care you have shown me 
 
Love is for an eternity, not just a second, minute, hour or even a day. 

Copyright © Amber Stratton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Now the sun goes down to rest from its daily shining
How then have you come to an early grave 
Passing in a boisterous way from the lip of dawn
Rambling around the God swollen foot .
Wailing, crying and gnashing of teeth  prevent not the grave  from receiving its dusty guest.
At the shore of  Victoria beach, 
Here we were, hanging our lyre, pipe, and drums
Shedding tears at the shrouded view of a sandy host
The sea also arose in a sad mood.
Span my days! Full of sadness  from its genesis
Mother weep, relatives shed tears, whether that of crocodile – now i know
May be they all want to make an alien a nationale
The dead cry for the dead’
Only time will tell, when the beauty will sleep in abode of unconditional comfort.

Now! I can hear, the song of a songbird
Singing sweetly and softly,
Oh little bird! You are not sad like us
I am neither sad nor  lonely
But singing of the last embrace , when the saint are matching on
I am neither sad nor lonely
Rejoicing with the wise travellers that are free of debt the given the account of their individual marketing journey

Cry for Joy! Says oh nightingale 
For it is better to respond to the call  while  the dew is still wet on the grass
With a great welcoming party.
Than to be covered with burning shame at the end of a million lengthen years 
In the city of temporal shelter.
Haggling in an empty market, so long , with an empty purchase  where time and effort were spent  in a flashing memory
Vanity upon vanity

Copyright © Akolade Adewunmi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku |
the old grave…
unwanted tare adorning
my own epitaph

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
Fragments of moment 
paddling swift and frenzy
through layers of present.
Filaments of passing time
wafting in evanescence
to get folded in the memory. 

Oh fragile life 
you are the remnants 
etched in the illusion
squeezing frail reality 
from misty ruckus
in mysetrous shade.

Beneath azure sky 
On the bank of transience
rest, numerous existence 
embedded with myraid dreams 
and shed desperate selves
as fireflies hugging flames..

Copyright © Maaya Dev | Year Posted 2015

Details | Cowboy |
In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
 
Far on a sparse hill it cuts the sky like a lance—
That pale, nearly white cross with just the name ‘Chance.’
He used to ride those hills and echo each valley,
Before he rode to war to make us all free.

Yes, his country called, like it had many before,
And he gladly went off to fight in that war.
There were no questions asked, no concern for the cost—
If none volunteered, our country would be lost.

Then one day the dreaded letter came, edged in black—
And we knew then, that he would never come back.
Be it rancher or mere clerk – all went off to war—
And while most returned – some would be seen no more.  

And long before there was a Memorial Day—
Our young men died for our American way—
From wars of revolution to wars of the world—
All of our soldiers fought with our flag unfurled. 

There are bright jade prairies of gray and white crosses,
That recount endless wars and many losses—
Now in meadows bloom reminders on each plain,
Marking names of those who have not died in vain.

In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
  
.

Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2006

Details | Verse |
My name is not Tony Montana
No, I'am not a nature born killer
The heroine is not embedded in veins
I'am always drug free like the quotes states
ride or die don't get 
high off your own supply 

My name is not Tony Montana
I'am not a gangsters 
I'am that Bruce Lee the one you don't want to mess with
One blow to the head and the second blow to the chest
consider yourself knocked out
For sure I have skillz like that

My name is not Tony Montana
Tattoo this to your forehead 
No wankster
No drug dealer
No gangster

Check the profile I hit the school books
not the streets
I know how to say no to a situation
 that may cause destruction in my life

No my name is not Tony Montana
Say no to drug
Say yes to school and a job
So you can have a healthy stable life

By Shaniki Smith
Date: April 17, 2016

Copyright © Shaniki Smith | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
Shall I Beg For Time Here To Be Longer

When tombstone at grave site shall be written
Praying it records, great good I have done
Nothing on love sought, heartfelt and smitten
Instead tell, Salvation given not won.

Whenever life upon earth's realm falters
May Light and Grace arriving, this soul save
Racing an angel but never caught her
My prize, Truth rewarded for being brave.

Shall I beg for time here to be longer?
Or in truest faith, my soul be much stronger?

Contest, What Doesn't Kill Us
Contest, Sponsor Laura Loo
75 Words, March 5th, 2017

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |
One beautiful child strayed from safety
He took her
No time for her to scream
No time for her to fight
It is not her fault
It is a heinous crime
She fell into his pit
Dug well ahead of his crime
She will never be whole again.






"Copyright (C) Mirassou 2008"

Copyright © Heather Mirassou | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |
Elephant Grave Yard(OLd Eagle Feather) 
Elephants do it or it seems they used two. 
Made a place to leave they bones and went two there place 
in great droves or herds i think they are called. 
Old Eagle Feather was watching the women by the fire one day. 
They were chewing jerky to make it soft for meat to eat. 
Softening the jerky for little mouths to chew. 
Old Feather he is now been called got up and off he goes. 
Took up two stones of suprising weight, 
and carried them toward the elephant grave yard. 
I am going to my fate.He never shed a tear. 
I have done it all my time is gone.Let me make no haste. 
NO more wasted time in stories bye the fire. 
I am just in time. 
I see the elephants again, 
they are all in line waiting to get in. 
To my heaven. 

Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |
Once it is gone
What can I save
Nothing returns
Life in a grave
Trying to hold on
Death cannot take
Forever will live
Love that we make

Copyright © ... Gigno | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |
Have I lived so long in Eden’s grave
and never felt the ocean's wave
or touched the silken butterfly
who dances for the children’s eye

Colors more than sight allows
have I embraced those burning clouds
ending days in appetite
for stars in heaven's pride of night

did I live so long and never taste
snow - so shyly kissing the face
aimless, white melodies
clothes for barren naked trees

do I listen what the rivers say
they’re wisdom of a thousand days
winding from a mountains height
against the stone's endless fight

A scissor tail,  robin's nest
did I hear the song so curious
Have I lived at all - have I lived a day
Have I lived so long in Eden’s grave

Copyright © Ezra Vancil | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |
just a few miles into town
round where the speed limit changes &
the grass seems to grow higher on the banks
than on the football fields, the front yards &
the mountain paths leading up closer to the
sky,
the grave of a loved one lies nestle in the ground
at the cemetery whose quiet is both comfortable &
unnerving, bringing a special kind of mental
confusion,
every time the disbeliever visits to pay respects &
talk a while.

taking time from a week otherwise suited for
getting on with one’s life,
s/he makes the pilgrimage in silent,
buying a new bouquet of the most beautiful flowers
s/he can find & cleaning up as if to go on a first date---
instead & to the amazement of her/him,
after all this time, there are still tears that creep up on
the car ride over &
at this point, no mention of this ritual to anybody
has brought peace to this individual,
for it is only the visit &
the one-way conversation at the grave site
which seems to be the only way to sustain
anymore.

the groundskeeper watches the car slow on the cemetery road,
for he/she knows the routines of those who mourn
habitually, and even though he’s/she’s seen it a thousand times,
it can make him/her wonder, break her/his own heart,
while at the same time making him/her grateful for all the 
people in their own live, whom he/she values so much.

getting out of the car,
the lone loved one walks often with their head hanging, while
at other times, they are standing straight looking up ahead,
as if anything had changed &
though the shrink continues to beat the drum of
“change comes from within,”
s/he’s convinced that shrink is bull*****&
is strongly considering the cessation of the sessions.

Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
Grave on the hill, no name applied
Just a simple pile of rocks

Disturbed by a fallen tree.
Over time moss has grown
Giving the rocks a grey sheen
Someone must have loved the man

Taking much time to find the rocks
and neatly arrange them on the grave.

At the foot there is a small child sized grave
with just a simple long, rounded, rock marker 
at the head and foot.
I often wonder what happened to this family...
I sense great sadness and troubles in these lives.

to be continued...

Grave on the hill, no name applied
Just a simple pile of rock
Marks the ending of a life full
Of sadness and loss of children

Toil and work the rocky ground
to feed your family, land is the life blood 
for survival, for food, for shelter
To the land you have returned beneath the red clay and rock grave.

Grave on the hill, no name applied.

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2009