Death Conquers All
There were white roses
tied with tiny red ribbons
all over the place
nothing imposes;
they’re everywhere
full of grace….
far and wide;
here and there!
I can see the beauty in them
I envisage it in so many ways
peace and freedom.
the tranquillity.......
the poignant fragile beauty.
screaming morality.
At the one final exultation
the gathering of the soul
the ceremony in expectation
yet it is not my time to enrol;
I've seen it in so many places
I have called it by name so many times
extending its graces.
I have worshipped you at your altar.
I walked in your shadow
Having my writ in the psalter.
seen your reflection on the show
Still, it is not enough!
No one has promised me tomorrow
I only count on it today and it's tough.
The truth about my death
demonstrates the gentleness of my grave
without gasping for my last breath.
Categories:
mors, emotions, feelings,
Form: Rhyme
We study our language when we are just born.
First, we touch and hear, taste and smell, and then we see.
We put a name on it. And we repeat it back by sound, motion, and symbols.
Some words we cannot really translate, like the words in the greeting "Hummel, Hummel; Mors, Mors." The people of Hamburg, Germany might be able to explain it, but it would be difficult. In short, "mors" generally means in English "kiss my butt."
But what if it was more profound, take philosophy and theology? Not many in the "west" understand Hinduism. There are words like "zen" and the teachings of Kabir, that describes ideas foreign to the "west."
Unless we look beyond our language, we will be prisoners to it.
by,
Martin Braun
3/17/2020
Categories:
mors, language, , hinduism,
Form: Free verse
"Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede
Pauperum tabernas regumque turris"
Death comes in many forms
And never counts the cost.
A brutal suicide bewilders,
Desolate are the young mother's children.
Carelessness leaves undiagnosed
The condition that kills a grandmother
And a family is left to mourn.
Death shows compassion
To take away a long-suffering
Matriarch in her sleep.
How distraught are those left behind.
Senseless is the public execution
By a disturbed assassin
She fallen in her prime
By this crime is robbed
Of her mission in life
Meaning we must weave
Into such narratives
To retain our humanity
Without which we cannot go on.
Categories:
mors, confusion, death, meaningful,
Form: Free verse
Who is seeing off whom,
In home,hospital or Hell,
Visiting you in your sick room,
Knowing you won't get well?
In that space 'twixt life and death
You linger,time running out of sand,
All words mere empty breath
In what is no man's land.
Tears choked back(signs of guilt?)
A brave face essays a brave word
Like a house on sand built,
The emptiness of the absurd.
Time to go will soon be here.
Faith alone makes life endure.
When the loss is of one so dear,
Of that,who can really be sure?
Requiescat in pace.
Amor vincit omnia
Et omnes mors.
Categories:
mors,
Form: Rhyme