Dead dreams deserve a burial,
But where do I bury them?
My peeving heart-It is way too heavy,
My disappointed eyes-they are weary,
Cherished memories - I really haven’t any,
Art isn’t my cup of tea.
Nor can I write poetry
Neither is my juggled mind ready.
Dead dreams deserve a funeral.
But how do I mourn them?
Bleed my heart or tie a knot,
Drink my tears or bawl eyes out,
Crush memories or leave them to rot,
pent up emotions or express my thought,
wander my mind or get it to dot.
Dead dreams are hauntingly ethereal,
But where do they dwell?
They linger in heartbeats,
in thoughts left to swell
Not lost, not vanished,
but drifting in air—In echoes of poetry,
in art laid bare.
Categories:
unburied, break up, death, sorrow,
Form: Rhyme
The Winter of Unburied Bodies
She never came home
she went for a walk
never to return
the woods took her
kept her hidden
beneath the snow
She was tall and lean
she loved to walk
always to return
from the woods, she took
a hidden path one day
trampling fallen leaves
She was late for breakfast
she was late for dinner
never to return
woodland creatures saw her
in the Spring
still frozen from the fall
She had no children
she had no spouse
her parents walked the woods
which kept her hidden
until Spring, cursing the
Winter of Unburied Bodies.
Created 20 Feb 2018
Categories:
unburied, death, missing,
Form: Free verse
While volcanoes rehearse to show their teeth
lovers shouting from the well of the house
wave broken condoms rather than broken trust
conflate dissent on self-erasing slates
and prove worse than the old oxen
long following circuitous ways
billowing opposition, discalced defenders
they all assert superior dishonesty
sell cheap what is most dear or make
offences of new affections
I carry the tomb of unburied days
--R K Singh
Categories:
unburied, angst, dark, political,
Form: Free verse
She pounded the last nail into the lid of the coffin
The coffin that held her dream
She sat there for a while
In the silence
Thinking of all it had meant
What it was meant to be
Her dream
She threw herself over the coffin
And wracked away with sobs
The last hopes that lay
Buried deep within her
Silence
No one had come to mourn
No one had said a word
Except when her dream was alive and well
Only then
Then…they told her
“Look at the tell-tale signs
Can’t you see?
Something is amiss
Your dream…Your dream is…sick
It won’t make it
It won’t survive.”
She hadn't believed them
Thought they had lied
Yet, here she was
She wiped her tears away
What did they know?
What did they care?
How could they understand…
That wrapped up there in her dream
Was her beating heart
She could not bear to bury it
So, she pushed it underneath the shade
Of a weeping willow tree
Weeping
Weeping
For who she couldn't be
And she walked away
Dreamless
Heartless
Dead….
Unburied!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
unburied, death, poetry,
Form: Narrative
I don't know where you came from.
But one day you walked up to me,
and I couldn't resist your smile,
It made me feel free.
I instantly took you into my heart.
Telling you, from the very start, my story.
And whether right or whether wrong,
You now share my failures and glory.
And isn't it sad that most think twice,
before deciding in whom to confide?
Yet somehow, you won me,
before I'd even tried!
Then you put your arm round my shoulder
as I lamented with tears.
Your self-sacrificing shall remain
in my heart for many years,
So that if i ever look in the mirror
or think I'm somehow a star,
I'll realize, compared to you,
I am lagging quite far.
For I'm not sure where I'm going,
or who I want to be.
But there is one thing I'm sure of:
you're the best part of me!
And so forever I'll tell,
of what in my heart isn't petty.
I will love you forever,
my dearest friend, Letty.
From: A good friend
To: Me
Categories:
unburied, heart, heart,
Form: I do not know?