Death Comes to All
We’re all going to die.
No way around it.
Statistics usually lie.
Not so with death.
No vaccines will save us.
Masks can’t ward off the grim reaper.
So why make a fuss.
You can’t hide, he will find you.
War, bacteria, viruses, accidents.
Not to mention murder and suicide.
The reaper knows his calculus.
His bony hand will find you.
The river Styx is in our future.
Make sure you have the fee.
Must pay Charon that old moocher.
We all must cross that dark water.
Diets, exercise, medications.
In the end all is useless.
There can be no abrogation.
Death comes to us all.
Not free, not wise, not kind, not loved,
and tethered to the past
Unwilling to admit the truth,
he met his match at last
His Muse had warned time and again,
a reckoning was near
His eyes to close, his voice to mute,
beyond his greatest fear
Unsung, unwanted, lost, alone,
his nights became his days
His abrogation to regret,
the price all sinners pay
If just one chance to then go back,
and take that other road
The dark would pass, the light return
—and end his life below
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
© Ben Burton Feb 5, 2014
I view beauty with desire
But am seen through abstract eyes
Which begats a mystery
For I don't try to be that kind
The shattered pieces in my wake
As tea leaves wither in the brine
Leave only scarves to pacify
The punctured seal can't be revised
No posturing through symphonies
With trebled horns, but for the one
That is and was and shall remain
While hearts still beat and rivers run
Should I not come before I go
Indulgence can't be quantified
For every itch that is not scratched
Becomes a casualty to time
Yet, with decorum I imbibe
Without deception at the core
Or abrogation of the vow
Unto myself, no spawn of spore
And without mirror to reflect
The bounder from a boundless shore
Inspectors at the terminals
Will fruitlessly try to record
But DNA will not impeach
The gene which flawlessly imparts
Abilities to cherry-pick
The naivete of hopeful marks
So, to ourselves we need be true
From courtesan to bon vivant
And though restraint may be pursued
It will not kill the will to want
Parachute love once was my aberration
and shift into abrogation/ fell for a talebearer which only told lies annoyed my every thought
“Abrogation Aberration Destination”
still spinning like a Fishing Rod. Fell to deep to soon in this exploration
” Fluctuate in Separate Directions”
My EX-Parachute lover once was my Best Friend and now became my inconstant friend/
One life story.......
Listen my children and you shall hear
thus quoth he into her ear
With her still months shy of a year.
The Cremation of Sam McGee
Ecclesiastes
The Odyssey
All etched in her mind before she was three.
Then came school
hip, swell and cool
hot days at the swimming pool
Degree decision
nuclear fission
late one night a car collision
Marriage, babies
Mortgage, savings
Moving vans, fights, cleaning ladies.
Separation
Court, divorce
Bankruptcy, self-abrogation
Weighing the merits of annihilation
Poetry, freedom
Wisdom, kids grown
90% of it's just showing up.
Listen my children and you shall hear
Thus quoth he inside her ear
Year after year after precious year
The Cremation of Sam McGee
Ecclesiastes
The Odyssey
Epic narratives - inspiracy
In
a
few words-
to confuse
dissimulate and
dissemble by abrogation
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