When we look at life,
contingently standing out from death,
historically and futuristically absent,
co-passionately present,
we can see death and dying
as a logical default,
a statistical reality,
almost a necessity
so likely that life emerges
as a reverse default,
experienced only by vulnerably mortal living beings
mutually becoming
Whom each day awaken to another miracle
of living
unfolding further Earth history
and to ego-identified internal life process,
a holonic gift,
an inheritance
borrowed from past generations
to invest in present and future regenerations
of life
emerging from past death and dying
fueling fertile soil,
cleansing water,
stirring clear air
and incensed warm-lit flames
of reverberating annunciation.
DEATH DEVOURS LOVELY THINGS
The fallow ground was thirsty for her —
“I’m in trouble” stung like a nightingale’s knife.
The moon and stars in vertiginous blur
stilled her mothering heart — her life.
Music of the twilight and cherry bobs
in the twins’ manhattans. Celebratory smiles
and cheers ferment to grieving sobs —
a blossoming bosom of lamentations and trials.
O melancholy separation from the womb.
Twins battle to connect in the hopeless rain.
Death devours lovely things - rose perfume.
Fallen petals in funeral march forge their pain.
A beautiful ballerina buried in a music box —
the missing florid centerpiece at the family’s table.
Her presence rushing to heaven’s gate shocks
the cosmic atmosphere — contingently a fable.
5/15/2018
A Poem About Death Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Theme: Death devours lovely things
Word List: melancholy, beautiful, thirsty, music
Sifting for lamb in a wolves pack
Like searching for a needle in a hay stack
Predator's parameter on a scale of gourmet
Lessening time warble with each revolution
Camouflaged in whiskers, shedding off spotlight
Tossed decision in flaunting sides between jekyll or hyde
When fostering quaint concubine, a mistaken desire
A swollen brook will break across the familiar pier
If silent does not mean it isn't there
Contingently awaiting or frolicking on the devil's mare
How lullaby enunciates at the cradled moment
Decides whether put evil to snooze or become more flagrant
28/06/2016