From the grave I shall rise
To the world it will come as a surprise
Resurrection straight to observing human eyes
Walking among the living
Hunger for human blood and flesh
At the stroke of midnight
A world unexpected
Moan for the anguished
The need to eat to satisfy the crave
Rising and walking among
Search and stalk
Rising on this very night
Causing fright
Darkness with no light
Maneuvering ever so close
Screams sounding like echoes
Dead walking alive.
Why can’t I give enough?
And when I do,
why does it always end up worse than it did before?
Why is it when I ask those who need help they all of a sudden get worse?
Why is it when I ask for help it’s a burden for those around me?
Why do I only talk about me and not the ones who truly need to be talked about?
Why do the people I love keep drifting away?
It’s like I was the avalanche to the Titanic and the people I love are the people on the ship.
They got away but they die in the end.
am i the problem?
“yes. yes you are.”
November 1st in Mexico and South America
marigolds' pungent odor is used liberally
to guide spirits from cemetery to Day of the Dead celebration
homemade altars await the visiting soul
Photographs, candles and water have been assembled
their favorite foods and drinks are there
for dessert they may nibble on decorated sugar skulls
Day of the Dead, an important holiday,
represents cyclical nature of life and death
I'd been dead only an hour
And yet they'd already moved on
Already bid good riddance and closed the coffin
Their words fake, their thoughts sour.
I'd been dead only a day
And yet the maggots picked at my flesh
But couldn't bear to devour my scars
My rejected mistakes untouched, I lay
I'd been dead only a week
But my carcass was left hollow
All but my delusions accepted by nature
The soil murmuring my legacy, a freak.
I'd been dead only a month
My grave stayed bare
weather taking its toll
Id believed people cared, once
I'd been dead only a year
Or was it two now?
You lose yourself when your whole world forgets you
Or when you become the very thing you fear
Who are you without their thoughts
Who are you without your mistakes
Who are you without your legacy
Who are you without someone who cares
Were you ever alive without someone to remember you?
Were you alive when no one saw you?
Are you alive if no one sees you?
Will you be?
Eyes ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ follow ¦¦¦ butterflies,
And, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ sweat ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ at the empty skies.
So ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ they fall ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
And sting ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Till, ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ pain ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ gather
Out of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ a cabbage-leaf.
"You ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
Turn, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ to ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
Glorious butterflies ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ dead." . . .
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ beautiful, Earth ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
So ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ where ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ is our death!
(Blackout of Butterflies by Rudyard Kipling)
It was decided that I’m bad
Thank you, Mr. Universe
So I’m socially dead
Therefore, not much coerced
Little less involved in business
Of the common cause I share
With the Mrs. Universe
She can spot me everywhere
I can’t comment, I can’t post
Cause I’ve been a bit too active
Maybe felt a bit too lost
Could’ve been over-perceptive
Maybe deemed as self-indulgent
So they bothered to reply
Laid on me the hardest judgement
Though it didn’t worth a try
Aren’t we equal to ourselves
What we say no one will save
The tide washes up the shells
Each one bears its own wave..
Whither shall I go—
Shall I haunt the willow
Drag my nails 'cross thy dewy window
Push the wicker chair to and fro?
These are all terrors that I know
What do the newly dead do
When there is nowhere
We would venture to
Or care feel despair
Or shed boo-hoos
Should I wait in the broom
Closet for you
Radiating gloom
Waiting to shout "boo!"
What do the newly dead do?
They said it would be fun
To watch the frightened run,
But so far that just isn't true
And maybe a little mean
From the little I've seen—
But hey, I'm new;
Maybe just one of the few
Who wishes there was something better
To do
Than scare another bed-wetter
Or ruin a new hairdo—
It's just all so boring
We sit 'round till morning
Then some awful cock crows
Ringing thro' fields and clear 'cross meadows
And everything just turns black—
And it's cold
And there's a smell—
Like putrid mold.
Well,
I guess it's better than hell,
But who the hell knows
There are people who've died.' Buried yet not gone, they cry out for justice, loud and
Long..Rik Mayal, JFK, Bob Marley, Diana too, Virginia, Stan Meyer, the covid co-horts Do.' Those who were slaughtered in Germany 1940 on through' today in Gaza
Now what say you.? You munitions makers, you in IBM.' you in hugo boss, and
Ikea all you ss friends.' Mad about ( oak leaves) and forest gods, there are groves for killing, by thosecwho consider thay are gods,.? But the dead are many.' And they
Cry out loud; and long' they are heard
By the God; of all. He's never been blind all
Along.' Yes you put a bag on His Head; in such ( you announced to all ) just who you
Are.' So much was saud' Thats how you will fall, blind leaders all
Stumbling to when the ( moment blinks!) In the eye of eternity ' you will wear the (hood-wink) you satanic servers..You serve satan, yet you he also hates, there is a
Place for you waiting' the latest hell in great flame gyrates.' A vortex of lonliness where eternal winds, will shred your ever-being..As your former victims realise Their true Word.'
You live for moments
For a light to shine on your face
It still remains dim
No star. No light. No candle burns.
The heart, once warm, is cold and still.
To rock, to lifeless stone it turns —
A tomb, shut fast, in night as chill.
And in that tomb, so cold, so bare,
Lies Love made flesh, and crucified.
No breath. No voice. No answer there.
The world stood dark the hour He died.
Then Joseph came, a secret friend,
And begged the Body, cold as clay;
He wrapped his Lord, and knelt to tend
The wounds, in grief and in dismay.
There Christ lay on the stone, alone
His journey through the world was done;
No warmth was left in flesh or bone;
The earth cried out beneath the sun.
No grief had ever pierced so sore,
No heart had ever bowed its head —
The dark that day was dark far more
Than any dark before the dead.
Yet lower still His spirit came,
Down to the deep, where dead men lay,
And broke the bonds of ancient shame
That held our father, bound for aye.
Far in the east, a light was born —
Not warm, not gold, but cold and thin;
No man yet knew, that fearful morn,
If Life could ever wake within.
I war dead, ever since Adam died
I remained dead until Christ came
Until He arose from the grave
I remained dead yet alive, for
for the thirty-three years of
His earthly ministry
Then Christ willingly died for me
After three days of being dead
He arose, I also rising with Him
Rising in triumph and glory
Triumphing over treason and death
(Written on the 6th December, 2015)
A silent scream spreads through the night,
A bittersweet joy in the darkness,
In a world of sour sweetness,
Joyful sadness waltzes bright.
A deafening whisper calls us near,
While noisy silence fills the day;
Jumbo shrimp and icy flames,
They play their little big matches.
Living dead and peaceful strife,
A false truth in everyday life,
An awkward relaxed grace, a surprise,
Truthful lies hide in plain sight.
With cruel kindness, we laugh as we cry,
with open secrets that`re not hidden,
A false reality touches the air,
An uncertain certainty spreads apace.
In shameless honour, a giggle grows,
As chaotic order settles,
Across untimely time and space,
Where grave funny oxymorons lie.
Between the shadows monsters hide
as they coax a smile in plain sight.
You can tell that something’s not right,
quick with a touch you let it slide.
One kiss lands and you know he lied,
trapped now it’s too late to turn back.
Wide-eyed to this tender attack
blindness grows the closer you get.
With eyes like dead roses you’re set
to follow this pain off the track.
I went across the field of daisies
Lavenders and tulips too
The time around was self-erasing
Flowers bent as I walked through
Stepped onto a wooden path
Trees ahead were falling down
Leafy branches I did pass
Out of woods I went to town
It was raining through the sunlight
Garbage and recycling bins
Stood there overflown as I
Passed the cobblestone old streets
I’ve found your house rang the door
Someone else’s voice proclaimed
You don’t live there anymore
And they can’t recall your name
Then I died and went away
Cause the dead can walk unseen
So I do this everyday
Walking in and out of screen.
Joints and tendons ache
Water works partly block
Teeth; gums you forsake
In the mix, the odd rock
Nobody prepares you
Suddenly, the decline
Friends not foes, few
You want to only recline
Like yesterday's news
You are now quite stale
Worth very few views
Repeating a woeful tale
Your pals drop dead
On goes the count
Next obit to be read?
As health events mount
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