Long Dead and buried Poems
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Once upon a time there was a young girl,
who lived in a huge mansion with many rooms;
And although quite young,
She was about to be married.
On her wedding day she wore her mother's dress,
It was a wondrous gown of ivory lace and beads;
She became bored with all the waiting and waiting,
So, she decided to play a game.
Her favorite game of hide and seek,
And so she went to find a hiding place;
Into rooms she ran giggling like a child,
She wanted a new place to hide,
Not the ones that everyone knew about already.
Family and friends searched and searched for her,
They looked in every room and closet in the house;
The woods and area were searched,
The nearby lake was considered to.
But she had disappeared it seemed and that was it,
Stories were told for years about the mysterious girl;
Some thought she had just ran away in fear of marriage,
There was never an answer to the story.
Years passed and the tale faded in the telling,
And soon all that family was dead and buried;
And the mansion was sold to new owners,
The house need repairs and renovations;
So workers were hired and the work began in earnest.
One day the workers went up into an attic room,
And there they saw a trunk and they thought perhaps;
It held a treasure that they could steal,
They tried to open the trunk but could not.
So the men went to get something to pry it with,
A crowbar was used and finally the lid was opened;
And the men peered inside the trunk and screamed,
For inside was a small curled up skeleton.
The skeleton was wearing a wedding dress,
A wedding dress of ivory lace and beads;
They ran away and never said a word,
And she still lays within that attic trunk.
But the chilling twist is this - now she haunts the house,
Wearing her beautiful wedding gown;
and all she wants - is to play hide and seek.
____________________________
July 28, 2015
Poetry/Narrative/Ivory Lace and Beads
Copyright Protected, ID 15-695-444-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
(A lone voice whispers)
Is this the final time for you and me
To part from visiting my white room
In the Great In-Between
For this morning I read
As God once said
In Isaiah 43:18-19
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland
And I can faintly hear brass bands playing a sad tune in the distance
Via my automatic scrying machine
And a soft voice whispering
It's no use staying
She needs time to heal
To restart and feel
So maybe
Another time around in this crazy circle
With no rehearsal
It may last
Even though our love is dead and buried
Maybe next time we can just find a way to continue to be true friends
Who makes each other
Gasp
To try to make it better than the last
So tonight I open up my old tired diary
And just write in big letters
Never forget
Your only love
Mary
The kind woman who once carried you
When life once got so heavy
(C) Copyright John Duffy
In old Jerusalem near cross and sepulcher
Transgressors and confessors searching for a cure
Weary Pilgrims assembled in this place ornate
Guilty, broken, sad, sickened, from life’s heavy weight
Here we remember how our sin once did molest
How selfish deeds and hateful thoughts God does detest
Yet for us sinners Christ in love performed His grace
His sacrificial work makes this a holy place
Somewhere near here religion organized deceit
They drug him to the pavement to make his end complete
Somewhere near here truth was twisted, justice denied
Somewhere near here, misinformed, crucified they cried
Somewhere near here with cruel whip his back was beat
Somewhere near here Rome drove nails in Christ’ hands and feet
Somewhere near here the savior wore thorns for a crown
Somewhere near here the savior’s blood trickled down
Somewhere near here they punctured a sword in his side
Somewhere near here for our sin our blessed savior died
Somewhere near here, hanging shamefully on a cross
Jesus was sacrificed to restore human loss
Here listening to vile words the crowd did sputter
An announcement of forgiveness he did utter
Here on these grounds the lamb without blemish or flaw
Orchestrated the salvation the Father foresaw
The execution done His body was removed
The task was now completed, the Father approved
In a tomb near here his slaughtered corpse was encased
Still, dead, and buried, His accomplishments erased
For three days in the dark of the earth he did lay
While the Sabbath left His friends to mourn in dismay
But on the third day, somewhere near here, before dawn
There came a rumble and He awoke without yawn
Somewhere near here before the daylights detection
Breath was restored in mighty resurrection
The women and the disciples saw him near here
Then to more than five-hundred he dared to appear
I’m quite impressed with these walls and decorations
But they provoke neither joy nor celebration
For I’m on a journey to see the saviors face
And perhaps that’s the lesson of this wondrous place
For nails, nor cross, rocks, or cave can keep Jesus still
Resurrected our savior moves around at will
He will not be confined to places around here
But where ever we go our living Lord is near.
I remember our Love/Hate relationship.
It seems so long ago in a different life.
But I'll never forget what you did to me,
Making me cower like a dog,
Making me less a person.
The beating I took at your hands,
Bruising my face, my character,
And my inner self destroying my soul.
I walked away.
Burying my love deep into,
The darkness of my heart.
I vow never to say your name again.
Your memory is dead and buried.
I pulled myself up from the depths,
Of hell where you put me.
I vowed never will anyone,
Raise a hand to me ever.
I am a survivor.
Years and years it took me to,
Love myself in order to love others.
I finally found myself.
I have been reborn.
I can breathe and best of all,
I can begin to live.
Hell and back again
Lyrics sung with a sullen note
With lingering anxiety building in my throat
I feel that I cannot speak and must go
Unable to keep pushing this down
My Sunday laughter now a nervous frown
When I thought this was dead and buried somehow
One Sunday started with stolen looks and flirtation
Love at first sight, notes passed on bar tops with anticipation
Soon turned to fiery, unwavering passion
We left the car running, in Love we were crashing
One night our eyes, lips and bodies met
Our hands and souls searching for something neither had quite found yet
And a true felt romance then lingered
Never to forget, best friends in a way
But one with a debt that had yet to be paid
Differences in adult wants led him astray
Never wanting to disappoint or leave
But unable to have or raise a family
My heart shattered as the bullet did his skull
And I failed to tell him on our last phone call
But I never did stop Loving Him at all
Nothing done could erase what we shared
Although I had to move on
For the flashbacks turned to nightmares
And my heart and head could no longer cope
With losing not only a Love but all Hope
In myself or kind soul to pick up the pieces left
Was it all a dream?
I wish I truly could answer "yes"
But it's burned in my heart and my mind all the same
And now comes back from time to time reminding me of the pain
Leaving no words for me to use to explain
How I once went to Hell at 25
And came back again
At night of the Hight of winter, when from the Netherlands comes the brutal sun, lightning without rain
and at the same time clouds with frost, rain for a while, hail, snow and wind of the elements, large and small.
No end in sight; it is a day with a change, storm of clouds, storm of winds, shipwreck, submarine, decomposition
and the four veils.
No beginning and no end.
WHEN the moon in the morning or at noon is as bright as an orb, or almost, and it becomes night before the fourth
evening of the lunar month.
I, to stand in your light as in a spotlight:
I to look into the eyes of a crescent: love, flame, bed. You, great, powerful, oh so distant, as luminous as stars.
A desert of fire. At night you search for me.
THE cypresss of the monasticism are under your feet, the nuns walking barefoot, when they keep time, when they sing
while tying themselves together and when they put their tongues to the left and to the right in the custom of zdrakas.
On the walls of their chapel, near the chapel and the curtain, there are female saints, goddesses, whom they adore,
and those that they cover with veils and they cover with gilded haws. It is as if they were entering a house and praying
in front of the altar. The angel of women, whom they saw in a dream and whom they know to be linked to the will of God,
blazed with stars when they looked at her.
To them she is a light, a light that penetrates them like the opening of a wound. And they throw their arms over her,
when they press her feet.
That is how they pray.
WHEN i heard them chanting, I felt like a stone, as if pierced by the time of their desires. The stones of the market of Damascus
by the way of the river.
How have they lived, with their desire, like dew in their eyes.
I, my feet up, the state of being crushed, felt also that I have attained my purpose and that nothing remains, nothing is more than dust,
nothing any longer is alive.
One wind against my whole body, threw me to dust.
These are days of longing, of vulnerability, of vulnerability. These days. I stand like a young woman in front of a mirror.
Who is that person staring at me? Someone long dead and buried.
Everything that had lasted for centuries is gone.
I am facing my own death.
:: 11.10.2020 ::
you're somewhere dreaming, breathing, walking still
and in the world of living you reside
in hurting and in maiming is your thrill
you will not let the pain and grief subside
somewhere in this old world you have a place
your do your daily tasks and visit friends
there is no trail to find you, not a trace
yet poison cloud of hate on you descends
you live oblivious to heinous crime
the rape and plunder of a trusting heart
on satin sheets you left your putrid grime
mixed with my blood that flowed from poison dart
So to my heart you're dead and buried deep
My tears have crusted dry; I cannot weep
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Structure frames our lives
Absurdity debated
Proof lies beyond words
In the halls of thought where meanings cast aside
Sartre proclaims the universe a jest
Yet words his own become the threads he hides
Weaving structure from chaos: never clever
To say “life’s absurd,” then publish, reason and speak,
Requires a scaffold firm beneath each claim
Conviction breathes in every phrase we tweak
Absurdity masks yet rules remain the same
To exile The Holy Spirit or things unseen
By a simple denial is not complete
Deny eternity or the Divine Remains
By a corpse’s silence shows our losses not our gains
Assuming is not knowing so it seems
Let questions bloom and certainty give way
For meaning lingers deep within what we presuppose
Defying all the voices of dismay with “God knows!”
Post script:
Do you feel gipped because all the while
You assumed that the river in Egypt was denial
Were you taken in by Mr. Unger’s argument that’s been harried
Did you assume to exhume an argument that’s been dead and buried?
When you assume why can't you see
That you make an ass out of you and me
Skeptics think that it is foolish,
to believe Christ died and lives again.
The human mind just cannot see,
how such a thing can ever be.
The fact that life exists is clear
then surely it must have a source.
And if the source can create life,
it certainly can restore life.
So, if God is the source of life,
He can surely take it away,
and for someone dead and buried
He can make them alive again.
Pilate confirmed Jesus was dead
before his body’s burial.
His body was sealed in a tomb
and guarded by armed officers.
The empty tomb is evidence
that Jesus died and rose again.
The witnesses who met with Him
confirmed the truth, He is alive.
Jesus Himself declares this truth
“I am he that lives and was dead,
and I am alive forevermore,
and have the keys of hell and death.”
That Jesus is risen, is no myth,
this scholars are forced to admit.
The ones who choose not to believe,
the evidence would not receive.
Despite the effort to refute
and make the resurrection mute
belief in Christ is growing strong
showing the skeptics have it wrong.
He is no fool who now believes
in Christ who died and ever lives.
He is not wise, who doubts the truth
and lives as if He is still dead.
Jesus who lives now offers us
life that is abundant and free.
Because He lives, we too shall live,
and dwell with Him eternally.
THE DEVIL DANCED AT MIDNIGHT
The devil danced at midnight
beneath a waning moon
with his minions before him,
twas a sight to make one swoon.
He pranced in jubilation,
then capered with a shout,
his arms flailed like a windmill
as his legions danced about.
He cursed the God of heaven,
the demon horde gave tongue.
He vowed to steal each mortal soul,
every single one.
But first a plan was needed
to carry out the deed,
some way to blind humanity
so no danger was perceived.
"Our appearance must be winsome,
our ways seem as a lark,
we mustn't ever let them know
our agenda is so dark."
"Let's make for them a holiday,
the best they've ever seen,
we'll give it to their children
and we'll call it Halloween."
"They'll dress as little goblins,
as pirates and as ghouls,
they'll have parties in their churches
and one at every school."
"They'll beg adults for candy
while they roam from street to street,
dressed as little monsters
as they shout out trick or treat."
"How can there be real devils
if it's just a game they play,
no one will believe in us,
that's how we'll win the day."
"We'll confuse these hapless mortals,
in God they'll have their doubts,
they'll all be dead and buried
ere they know what we're about."
"And if they die in mortal sin
well then my friends we've won,
they'll spend eternity with us,
every single one."