Death Grook Poems

Death be not proud, bare-chested, forever resting
in dross mixed with the amalgamation of your unrest.

— by poet

Putin’s Final Resting Place

Blow it all up!
Be done with...

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Flower pots will be cracking                    ...

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You know you live in a democracy,
When you can vote and come away with two hands,

When most prisoners come out of their sentence alive,
You know...

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LOVE LETTER TO LIGEIA
I came in the name of He who gave you breath.
As certain as the emptiness of time,
as hopeful as your life, and...

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Nothing came out of the tree                   ...

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Post scriptum                       ...

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Complacency, leisure and ease,
Sloth is a creeping disease.
To take your first breath,
Put comfort to death,
Only then, the day you may seize!...

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They shoot at us with rubber bullets
cause they don't like the words painted on our signs,
"Stop Detonating Love Bombs
In the Middle East!".
But I suppose that...

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CURSE ON THE REPLAGNICATED LOVER
You came in the name of He who gave you breath.
As certain as the emptiness of time,
as hopeful as your life,...

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The notion of life after death is ludricous...
they are dead,
and can't communicate;
whoever believes they can is superstitious....

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Death could not do you part                   ...

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Ego maniac’s reflex                      ...

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O' so you are lost?
alone, frail, and tossed?

I see you there
threaded and bare
yet you walk along my twisty road

Are you not afraid lost boy?
Are you...

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Do you believe in rainbows?
Does the moon still rise 
over the oceans?
Does sunlight still light up the meadow?
       ...

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A magic knight coursing on in brilliance

On lean hack in clanging, cleaving aegis,

Crunching incantation-dark, blunt, and grunt.

So light illumines his cold, whiskered phiz

And it predates...

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