Disinter Poems | Examples


The Turning of Spring

When the chilly nights begin to subsides
every flower begins to open up
The weddings begin, producing spring brides
Now, the birds who left begin to fly home

The merry times ended with the winter
So now every child returns to their school
The ones the snow hid become disinter.
Now people could enjoy their defrosted pool

Soon enough our time will go to the fore
Then the new months will go so quickly by
The flowers will soon lie cold on the floor
spring will be gone soon, but try not to cry

Remember, spring won't be gone forever,
so do not forget it, never ever.
Form: Sonnet

Winter

A soft whisper
a buzz like bumble

singing springs songs quietly
Her songs I shall mumble

Once I lay neatly my body
Please do not disinter 

for I shall sing loudly springs songs
Once I  make it out of winter

Flowers lead to sleep 
as sleeps fuels my pain

I seep into this darkness
with only winter to blame 

Sitting in silence 
Winter  on my mind

That  painful abyss
only a matter of time 

Before the land of the free lay riddled in depth 
Starting with spring 
Ending with death

Starting with love 
The seasons will change
the fall flowers will bloom 
that I know
today it shall rain
Tomorrow it will snow 

Today you will witness my glorious suicide
Tomorrow you shall act as if we were in love
Today springs showers deem me crucified 
Tomorrow winter shall lift me above

I’ve waited to long for springs farewell
So I shall push the seasons myself
I shall Push with my songs
pain
Pride 
& Heart
I shall push with my death.
Form: Rhyme


Don'T Hunt Me With Words

Don't hunt me with words
for the selfish reason of mine
I want to listen to the voice of memories 
before I disinter the broken vows
In case You don't see me, don't be alarmed
I'm lost in world upside down
Let me download the world to fit in
before I'm dead deep into the grave
counting and sorting riches for others.

Control

So this is all there will be from now on,
since you've made up your mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with your heart. 

You're a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing your soul on your sleeve;
you can't for the life of you step on a bug
but you simply don't know how to leave.

How to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in your mind,
and take charge of your own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must you suffer such pain?
just see living as merely good judgment, good sense, 
and you'll get your control back again.
Form: Quatrain

Control

So this is all there will be from now on,
since you've made up your mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with your heart. 

You're a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing your soul on your sleeve;
you can't for the life of you step on a bug
but you simply don't know how to leave.

How to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in your mind,
and take charge of your own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must you suffer such pain?
just see living as merely good judgment, good sense, 
and you'll get your control back again.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Me the Infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel's L'Enfant Moi By T Wignesan

Me the infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s L’Enfant moi by T. Wignesan

The infant a stranger to me who grew up poet
You whom he missed even in his sleep
He who had to disinter himself upon waking
Every day in his quest with increasing effort

He who had not known your breast nor lap
Manically he sought your odour in bed clothes
Sniffed under the covers your sphinge haïr
And searched every bush for your mystic antrum

In vain forgot blackness of breasts in death
More avidly survives the memory of your milk
Longer I live more the haunting infant pleases me
When the eternel Night projects her by the threshold

At death the infant’s visited by the maternal shadow
Dissociated as two blue perfect globular moons

Note : Original rhyme schème of sonnet : 
      abba cddc effe gh)

( from Sophia, O.C. t. II, p. 348) 
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 15, 2014
Form: Sonnet

Control

...a self analysis


So this is all there will be from now on,
since I've made up my mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with my heart. 

I'm a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing my soul on my sleeve;
I can't for the life of me step on a bug
but I simply don't know how to leave;

how to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in my mind,
and take charge of my own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must I suffer such pain?
if I see life as good judgment, good sense, 
then I'll get my control back again!
Form: Quatrain

Warning Signs

The bank sign blinks its message late at night,
two types of information for the indolent,
the traffic light is cycling, though there's not a car in sight,
alarm clocks disinter the drugged and somnolent.

Newspaper delivery is the only game in town,
'til early morning merchants raise their blinds,
dogs are let out, leashed, and led to do what they must do,
first shoppers disregard the warning signs.

Men in trenchcoats congregate on corners, 
they speak into their sleeves in muffled tones,
in grey fedoras, all dressed up for secrecy and stealth;
they question early birds about their loans,

political affiliations, clubs, and weapons owned, 
they formulate a blueprint of your life;
what you thought was private isn't private any more,
they follow you, ask questions of your wife.

Two weeks ago John Dixon disappeared without a trace,
the authorities had nothing to declare,
Jim Dean and Charlie Watson were imprisoned in disgrace, 
their families are shocked and in despair.

The net is growing wider and the fear is closing in,
what happened to the notion that we're free?
their numbers are increasing and the hour is getting late,
yesterday at ten they came for me.
Form: Quatrain

I Dug For Her In That Garden

.

            Deeper and deeper
                     I dug
          through that parched
                     earth
                    for her
                 yes for her

        And what did I exhume
                   disinter 

                    Gold
                    Gold
                 yes gold 

                 Yes hun
           I’ve just found it

        your other gold post

Control

...a self-analysis


So this is all there will be from now on,
since I've made up my mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with my heart. 

I'm a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing my soul on my sleeve;
I can't for the life of me step on a bug
but I simply don't know how to leave;

how to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in my mind,
and take charge of my own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must I suffer such pain?
if I see life as good judgment, good sense, 
then I'll get my control back again!
Form: Quatrain

Control

So this is all there will be from now on,
since you've made up your mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with your heart. 

You're a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing your soul on your sleeve;
you can't for the life of you step on a bug
but you simply don't know how to leave.

How to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in your mind,
and take charge of your own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must you suffer such pain?
just see living as merely good judgment 
and you'll get your control back again.
Form: Quatrain

Control

So this is all there will be from now on,
since you've made up your mind to depart;
no more TV, no talking, no people, no fun,
no more girlfriends who play with your heart. 

You're a timid and tremulous creature,
always wearing your soul on your sleeve;
you can't for the life of you step on a bug
but you simply don't know how to leave.

How to leave things behind when they're done,
how to let go a friendship that's dead,
not to disinter love when it's all in your mind,
and take charge of your own life instead.

It's all just a question of balance, 
why must you suffer such pain?
just see living as merely good judgment, good sense, 
and you'll get your control back again.
Form: Verse

Love In Anger

We feel the harbour walls decaying, albatross defecate
Dappling as leprosy upon the facia,
Before the sea, mistress of life, licks and eats the slate,
Sucking mortar into the crests of waves.
No more shanties roistered from beaten tavern doors,
Echoing akin to old wishes and dreams,
Distant and dying, starved of attention, igniting no more,
Clawing feebly to excavate graves.
If I could disinter the premature corpse of love, entombed
In cemetery dirt above chalk cliffs,
I would defibrillate it with electric tears, once exhumed,
And nurse its heart to animate.
This love in anger, this love in denial, this love self euthanized,
Should recombine of flesh and dust;
I chant silently, until stopped in my tracks by the death in your eyes,
Eclipsing both love and anger, supplanted by hate.
Form: Verse

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