Them who made it out feel sick once they see that this next generation of youth lack brains so when they return they're ashamed of what they came home to
They say bullets ain't got no names on them & that's true but the fact remains that the gravestones do.
Strong heart grains as gild
shone hope on her dream draped palace.
In time cracks reshaped grains
into hapless dream gratis gravestones.
Gravestones lopsided
Forgotten behind the trees
Surrounded by grass
Sun crosses risen from earth
Crowned with some olive green mosh
Crystal dewdrop jewels pendent from leafless Hawthorne
over snowdrop pearls and early golden buds of daffodil.
A blackbird upon Sparrow, Peggy Gladys does adorn,
while morning light accentuates the name of Mitchell, Bill.
I look behind, my footsteps in the dew a path have worn,
past Throwers by the row, as well as Bunting, Jane. Stowe, Daniel.
The Grave Stone
Many years ago I went to the cemetery to find
my brother`s grave, but he had not been dead long
and had no stone. I was sent a picture, his stone is big
full name and in loving memory, the whole clan must have
chipped in it looked costly.
I felt slightly envious I can get a big stone too if I pay
for it now, the blue marble will be lovely.
I`m hesitant to invest in my stone, just in case I live
Longer than expected. You never know with people like me
I have all illnesses you can think of, but I keep waking up
In the morning, eat breakfast and take my medicine
and as usual, I`m grumpy, complaining I don`t laugh much
but I`m here to everyone’s chagrin.
The Old Stones and the Finch
Gravestones are made of granite;
I guess to hide the dirt,
so people don't have to come as much
to clean them.
I hate you're down there
in a vault of cement.
I want to take a jackhammer
and set you free!
See how the old stones are not crisp?
How the rain tries to free them?
How it liberates their minerals into the soil?
How they pass on as berries to the birds?
See how the finch is forever chasing Spring and Summer?
How far it follows the wind? How each year it returns with new songs from somewhere we've never been?
This is the end I want for you;
singing on a bright branch;
not waiting your turn for heaven.
Poems that paint a picture 2, contest
9-18-2017
Footprints fade away, doves stand guard
leaving a blue sky with a hint of gray
shadows dance across marble stones
from naked limbs
bodies shiver, eyes stare
minds yearn to remember, hearts quiver
for the dead have no concern
though their names are etched in stone
to remember their footprints as they fade away
Marble stones too will fade
along with the doves, as well as every memory
With each fading footprint
comes a moment of silence
bringing knowledge of our own fate
a marker of our mortality... so we cling to it
like shadows dancing across the marble stones
a visitor holding dead flowers
to lay in memory
leaving a blue sky with a hint of gray
that brings shadows to an empty field
of fading stones
9/15/17 contest Poems that paint a picture-2
When walking through a graveyard in among the many stones;
I’m told beneath the path I tread, lies rotting flesh and bone.
But I refuse to dwell upon what death and time have done:
Instead I choose to speak out loud, "To me your still someone".
Then I might introduce myself and ask him of his fate.
Were the years on earth allotted him, full of love, or seething hate?
He comes alive there in my eyes, but only he can tell;
If he found his place in Heaven, or he now resides in Hell.
At least for these few moments; he can now exist again.
Had our paths once crossed in another time; I might have
been his friend.
But I must let him rest once more, for it's time for me to go:
Back to the land of 'here and now', that he left so long ago.
This now rescinds those few moments, he became alive for me.
Not rot and bone, decayed, alone, but from his grave set free.
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