Best Cemeteries Poems
The revolution is futile near cemeteries noise
(To the oldest of me, of course, my son Ahmad in my birthday)
Introduction
Cut out my soul as shirt
Wrenching the heart arteries
Boot strap of your shoes
The poem
The patched soul with raw dreams
And soft body which was stained at cicatrixes of war
And crowded broken heart as falling leaves trampled a track
These are my only signals refer to my being
In a room like storm dreaming of blowing
Oh, my baby
Allowed me to say
Tonight and objectively
I couldn't do anything
Because what happened
Happened always
And what didn't happen
Didn't happen
And we always improve toward the worst
I walk in the cemetery and I see all the marble head stones
So many lives six feet under and by now have turned to bones,
You often wonder what these souls did while they were living
How many of them were taken to soon and what they were giving,
The mystery is has all these spirits gone to the other side
There may be a chosen few whom still want to hide,
I wonder what were all these people like
I am sure some of them loved to ride bikes,
At one time their souls were all whole
After their deaths the body was left and it turned stone cold.
Written By: Unique Poetry...2009
Sad graves comprehend
Red dirt freshly mounded up
Flowers crying out!
In old New England cemeteries
weather-worn slate markers hold
each name with tenacity
while the teeth of time slowly grind
each letter until its name disappears
as if it had been no more than
a frozen breath of frost etched
on a sunlit window pane.
The place where my mother lies is overgrown
From lack of care the weeds have grown tall,
Who is buried where for many is unknown
The place where my mother lies is overgrown.
Old floral tributes are by a cold wind blown
This is always true of the cemetery in the fall,
The place where my mother lies is overgrown
From lack of care the weeds have grown tall.
Older cemeteries rarely have perpetual care
Families of the deceased have moved far away
And returning to the old homeplace is rare
Older cemeteries rarely have perpetual care
And seldom are they listed as a worthy heir
Seems they unintentionally become a castaway
Older cemeteries rarely have perpetual care
Families of the deceased have moved far away.
written November 6, 2021
Ukrainian Cemeteries
David J Walker
Strange are the faces of
The new Ukraine
Stranger still Mother Russian sons
Leaves of Lilies
And dipodies
Scattered on grounds of repatriation
Peace be unto your
Brothers in death
A price purchased
With a final breath
As unknown boots
Above the ground
Unfurl the flags of
Silent sound
To claim what’s lost
An loose what’s found
In the subtle slopes
of the Ukraine