Sure he will linger, this long.
Not just in memory
Distant; earthly;
As sees him live out again
Whose sense no feelings sustain
Days; endlessly!
Child. With all that term implies.
With a heart, carefree-leapt
Soul, joy-adept;
God's friend was. Who'll in Heaven
Quickest for whose gates open
More love accept!
The street exhales in measured, patient light,
Where footsteps keep a cadence soft and slow,
An I, a witness to the day, walk on—
While somewhere in my mind, a name begins to grow.
A stone appears where none was set before,
Its surface pale with weather, time, and loss;
No hands in sight, yet carved with patient care—
A name, a date, and silence etched across.
It feels so close, yet too far to reach,
As if the thought itself has learned to wait;
A whispered echo at the edge of speech,
Where life and stillness almost hesitate.
A though intrudes, unbidden, keen, and still,
It settles where the quiet held its form;
Not summoned by intent, yet marks the will,
A distant tremor in an unseen storm.
I measure life against what time unthreads,
Each breath a brief inscription on the air;
The body writes what memory still treads,
And fades into the grammar of the bare.
And still I walk, the cadence kept and known,
The sky unchanged, though meanings rearrange;
What lingers is not lost, but overgrown,
A quiet thought, persistent, yet estranged.
Make mine epithet ( R T I P ) I'll leave it
To my devoted readers to surmise which
Piece is resting the better.? Or deeper.?
Thats if i've made it through; though? Oh
My.' I'm twisting and turning already.)
You know.? I alway hit a dead
End in lifes scene .' Maybe if not in death.? Oh well
What can we do.? You can never get away
From being shafted it seems.? Sweet dreams.)
Dry earth turned over
fresh flowers laid pristinely
no marker no name
Dense stone pins soft grass
indicating importance
giving gravitas
Deaths hand dealt
fire
flung with fury
towards fractured souls
that felt
life reduced
to fragmented parts
Crows feet
walked on strange places
following
a lost trail
leading
from a desert oasis
weathering
its sand
burning
them as they wept
Eyes
pouring
a river of faces
currents of memories
rolling
on
Tears
break
the dam of dreaming
that held back the reading
of gravestone
Infinite space
for last tear
falling
always
falling
towards the ground
forever
embracing
nights
eternal
sound
Gravestones lopsided
Forgotten behind the trees
Surrounded by grass
Sun crosses risen from earth
Crowned with some olive green mosh
Emerald blades thrust up
into liquid golden beams
that touches all with fire
in the warmth of the day
bees of Amber and obsidian
seek within the breeze
sweet sense do show the way
to the prey they hunt
blooms of colors bright
twirl bob and dance
in the music that is life
carried by the gentle breeze
defiant grass grows tall
steel blades here not known
lost in the veils of time
here none do seek
shadows of the grass does sway
down upon a broken stone
loss within the mist of time
last record of one now unknown
none remember of this place
or the one who here does lay
of their story is not known
all is lost like this stone
traces worn near all away
of the letters once engraved
no one now can read the words
of the one here in turned interred
palest stone of shiny white
carved with steel by master’s hand
none did count the cost of gold
for the one they did lay
marker meant to stand through time
and the story of this one told
veils of time to cover all
and all stories fade away
Walking among a thousand graves
you will notice a white cross
over a granite gravestone;
he was the youngest soldier
to be buried and ended up alone;
but in someone's heart, he still lives!
A white cross is a symbol of faith
that stands out from all the others,
the true devotion of a soldier is the blood that flows
through the veins of whom has indisputable worth!
Searching a thousand names,
some new, some old:
they all met the same fate
and they were told
that life was a temporary stay
filled with feelings of tender love and bitter hate!
Whoever was bold gained glory through pain,
but whoever did not seek it, died in vain!
All are sleeping under the shade of the stately pines!
A white cross over a granite gravestone
can't spread a huge shadow to protect it from the scorching sun;
I'm kneeling down with crossed fingers and relive
the images not erased by time and memory and I can
feel a serenity that only profound silence can give!
Praised be their courage, honor them with an appreciative tone!
A white cross over a granite gravestone
is a reminder that death is more painful for the ones who grieve!
The other half of me
Explains what others see
But only few know that half
That I choke and bleed between every laugh
That there's a king behind the gaffe
That there’s pain in every paragraph
And those who know
Don't know where I'll go
But at least they will be at my gravestone
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[Author's note: if this poem needs decrypting, see my reply below]
Beneath rugged oak tree's shade, and the voice of nature's mirth;
Evergreen wreaths tied with red velvet bows lean back in repose,
Adorn thousands of soldier's headstones laid to rest upon the lap of earth.
A rhythmic verse passing tribute etched on each reflect among lives of those
Honored and mourn upon the lawn in the long-drawn endless rows.
12/26/2019
Poetry Contest: Writing Prompt- English Quintain Imagery
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
The rhyme scheme of an English Quintain is a/b/a/b/b. No meter required.
The black ravens’ peer deep into the darkness;
Bracing upon cold marble and granite stone,
Beneath the ghostly moon's shadows in starkness.
Gray as gray, the ravens’ mock upon its groan
Absence of light and nostalgic clandestine.
Bleak night and nothing more wreathe the granite shrine.
9/28/2019
Photo #2
Poetry Contest: Make IT Six
Sponsored by: Joseph May
"Here am I,
finally alone"
says this gravestone
placed on my bones.
I wonder why...
How long I have to sigh
under its monotone
grave good-bye?
***
Just a poem, nothing more :)
May 25, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
A few simple words
chosen with care; etched in stone.
You’ll be remembered.
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