Best Day Of The Dead Poems
"Dia de Los Muertos", the Spanish name it. Eve
of All Saints, saw we of the church of blessed assurance
of an observance ushering in fall while easing
our multilingual obsession with death. The sun shines
on unmarked graves, and, "Come winter the same
snow falls, dusting us all," so it is said, and so
honored at The Dollar Tree Store.
Weeks before Halloween, when punctilious roadside tents
fill with demonic orange grins, when what the French
call The Season of Color with its 'sturm und drang' roars
in, I push past the doors of The Dollar Tree. No
automatic entry ushers us in, no Pearly Gates swing
wide to celestial Muzak. We come to purchase the needs
of the living-- tinfoil, plastic bags, detergent: a limpid purple
liquid with its cautionary "Do Not Drink," its "Fragrancia
Duradera." Longevity, one dollar a bottle.
Shelves of seasonal gimcracks stack up at the entrance.
"Adornes" in your face, useless for extending time:
crows with real feathers, spectral spider webs, glittery
black skulls, mockup tombstones inscribed "Rest in
Pieces"--Do Not Disturb-- Don't Laugh, You're Next.
I laugh, anyway. Comics know reality is funny.
All Hallows Eve a year ago, our parish priest
stood in cemetery darkness at a rude stone altar,
celebrating Mass at Bosque Bello, our Beautiful Forest
of flashlights and luminaries. There among graves
of the known and unknown, we broke bread and
shared the cup of blood, there, where the blessed dead
settle deep in their shoe-boxes, and the not-yet-
unmasked confront certain demise.
weep not when we die
don't let your life go awry
for the time was nigh
attributes were diminished
the mortal course now finished
words were all written
no longer need to fit in
worry what's twitten
opinions will not long last
as all existence shall pass
never born-again
but a human with a pen
human among men
back to whence everything came
no more demons left to tame
now no need for shame
care who or what is to blame
life ends all the same
good, bad, rich, poor, or wiser
death, the great equalizer
don't feel bad for me
what I was, has been set free
beyond slights or fees
through eternity we schlep
in evolution's next step
Paradoxes perceived....
Alas, afore perditions peremptory paroxysms passing
Recompense, aneath this incantations au revoirs pier?!
Intensity wrought forth amid the speculums mist
Surging slicing waves rolling in; brevitations acme ~
This cresendos apsis, imploding both place and time; time
Sending forth a zephyrs horizontal vortex greeting unto, these assimilations....
Subsistences sumbliminal portals now weighing forlorns images; moribunds
Sanguinary lineage, ill-poised at the gates of reapings; centuries they have sown!?
Turpitudes brazen vizard standing tall and holding fast unto these
Still, sacrilegious hexagons misconceiving beliefs; charmless fruits upon their vines
Kwashiorkors bitter continuums in this state of morass', mummering morbid ways....
Alas, afore perditions peremptory paroxsyms passing
Recompense, aneath this incantations au revoirs pier?!
Cresendos apsis horizontal zephyrs vortex; assimilations twilight
Greeting, augars ziggurat surging slicing waves, now rolling in ~
Brevitations ominous acme soon to forever pass this; Zodiacs....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Day of The Dead!?
walking in the city
to watch the sparkle lights
looking at graffiti
the murals on site
people outside having parties
celebrating through the night
its the day of the dead
partying all through the night
November first, day of the dead
Full of traditions, honoring the fallen
We light a red candle at sunset
Lay a table of food for the deceased
Eat sugar skulls, signifying bringing dead to life within ourselves
Masks and signs are paraded in a festival’s procession
Celebrating the cycle of life and death
November first, day of the dead
Margaurita was always called challengingly short.
In the afterliife I will be tall, she would retort.
When I die, make my day-of-the-dead statue tall, she said.
Give me a scary toothy face, and a huge, oversized head.
We made this woman's statue twelve foot tall.
Her face was long, she was no longer small.
Do you think she knows? We asked each other.
Honoring the best we could, our sainted grandmother.
La Cavalera Catrina 1910-1930:
An etching by cartoonist and lithographer, José Guadalupe Posada
Of a Garbancera, elegant skull, an upper-class woman of the Porfiriata
Has become a character icon of the Mexican “Día de Los Muertos”
A celebration of life in which it is much believed or “muy fuertos”
That the spirits of the dead are to return to their home
with relatives on these two days to spend time, it’s well known
Writing “calaveritas” which are short, humorous poems shared
With family and friends who show how much they cared
About a living person, how they died, then published to publicize
In magazines and newspapers, mostly celebrities and politicians to satirize
There is art that is added to the light-heartedness of the occasions
Skeletons drinking, dancing, and celebrating, depicted in humorous situations
Sugar skulls or calaveras made as edible or decorative skulls for the day
Another tradition, they are baked from either sugar called Alfeñiques or clay
It is custom to see sugar skull makeup on children, adults in array
to represent departed souls for Day of the Dead and All Souls Day
On Saturday or Sunday B-4 the fourth of July ,
Paperboys wood deliver the day of the dead book & I doent know why !
It had the names and addresses of everyone hoo died in the last year !
But Yude have 2 check the sales papers 2 see if thair was a sale on beer !
It's hevvyest thing in the paper ever And it could take all day !
And thay diddint even give us inny extra pay !
The sun times let us deliver that stuff on Saturdays
Win the paper diddint have inny wayt ! But the tribune diddint
Bring those stuffings until Sunday's so it felt like frate !
Sum of us wood get 2 the offices at ayround midnite !
So we could be thrue by 8-A.M. , win we could bie
4 ice cream boxes 4 a dollar at walgreens &
It wood ease the pane , so people wood be less likeley
2 go insane !...
The Day of the Dead down Mexico way,
Spirits are saved. Food and dancing are gay!
Skeleton shaped toys,
For all girls and boys,
Tasty sugar skulls are the hit of the day!
Marilyn and Mom and Dad,
Uncle Aaron, Larry;
Helen, Irv, Frank, Jodi, Ruth,
Miriam and Harry.
Elaine, Barbara, Ann and May,
Muriel and Julie;
Nana, Grandma, Grandpas (2),
Rick – we miss them truly.
Folks and cousins of my friends,
Several former teachers;
Pets of buddies – dogs and cats
And some exotic creatures.
Many others in the news
Without a close connection
And all the rest who passed away –
Today’s for recollection.
We do not need a holiday
To think of those who’ve perished
But Día de los Muertos honors
All the dead we cherished.
The day of The Dead.
The cemetery in Loule is on top of a hill, today
early spring the steep hillside is full of luscious
yellow flowers. Not like ripe lemons, more like
Swiss butter, from the rich milk of cows will bells
and horns; sturdy feet able to carry big, rose-pink
udders and be milked by smiling maidens with
strong arms creamy white as a Valkyrie’s bosom
What you didn’t see- all this life- when blinded
by the intensity of every sun lit flower came
from a rotting coffins, the few day in early spring
when the dead are let out, sway on a hillside and
soak up the sun.
In the liturgy of the gathering of the dead
Shadows play like phantom haunts
Shivering with broom sticks quaking
She flies enslaving the Halloween moon
Shadows play like phantom haunts
Enchanted by the sorceress' tune
She flies enslaving the Halloween moon
Possessed by her lair's bedeviled curse
Enchanted by the sorceress' tune
Shivering with broomsticks quaking
Possessed by her lair's bedeviled curse
In the liturgy of the gathering of the dead
October 2, 2019
Halloween Moon Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
Horrifying images pass through the mind
Mingling and mixing and leaving you blind
Thoughts of the past swim into sight
Leaving your mind consumed by fright
The living dead dance through your dreams
From their bones, the light of the moon gleams
Demons and devils join in their fun
Making you toss and turn until evening is done
Corpses fill the ground at their feet
Making clickings and clackings that move with their beat
Their stares, like spears, pierce through yor rsoul
Making your skin to crawl and your blood to boil
This is the tale come the day of the dead
The songs of rememberance and the prayers that are said
So sleep well, young child, and by morning they'll go
And enjoy this night-time, undead show
Día De Los Muertos
unlike Halloween
respect to loved ones who died * * * *
La Catrina lives
i do bleed
i do
As when life is
fighting to
bruise me
i do bleed
i do
AND
i express
m y s e l f
in a slow
unraveling roll
of energetic
stress /and\
i love you
forever &
always.
:: 02-09-2017 ::