Poetry Blogs (death)

Thunder roars through the empty halls

Lost, forbidden, in the dreams of the dead

Desolation descends to answer the call

Of petulance, compunction and dread

The horror of the night, haunts the moon

As it shines on the blackness of life

Earth disembowelled by all it consumes

Distorting truth, fouling Gods paradise

Death reigns hard, as love is defiled

His cloak b...

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Mr Handbag

The cackling sound 

of old led

sat and placed us 

with a person

It echoed out his life

and coughed up

three CD’s

so we sat.

darkness and fingernails

ran out of the room

leaving only me 

with Mr Handbag

his corduroy sweatpants

leaked receipts

covered in syrup

or was it marmite?

my heart began to bleed

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Your heart still beats

And the blood still pumps around

You can think and move

You can articulate your thoughts

But remember

You must die

You’ve not travelled much

And the world has hardly felt your touch

You’ve done nothing worthwhile to speak of

Time is running out

But remember

You must die

Then again, you’ve tasted the breath of freedom

And seen ...

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Cover the mirrors 

Open the windows

Let the mourners in

Through the front door.

Gather around a wooden box

To witness an act

Played by a dead corpse

A tear here and a tear there

Enough to fill a bowl

To water the parched air.

Life is just a circular affair

Never eternal 

But not the end.

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     I hope

Death is respectful

Enough to Kill me

     While I'm young - Before my

Extraordinary possibilities become

          Unextraordinary Realities

Before I grow Old and

     Spoil

The Mystery of my Story - it is

Better to leave people to

Imagine - the things I'll never become

     Before I live my life

          And it's

          Utterly pointless - Y...

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Years ago, I heard about a love endless

Were the times,

When love was sprouting

everywhere 

Songs was inviting to fall in love

unbelievable love stories were written

The war had over

Giving passed to unexpected coming backs.

She was an adorable woman

Worthy daughter of his dedicated professor

He was a handsome man and brilliant student,

She was sweet, lovely, ...

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Death is the end of all things
Death is the end of pain and blame and shame,
of sun, of rain, of work, of play
Death is the end of night and day
It brings each one of us, the same,
to the end of everything.

I say Death is the end of all things
So we need to know that's where we go
Whether we want to, yea or no,
It is what existence always shows
No matter what else life may bring,
Deat...

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You say I am a good person,
They say I am a bad one,
Forgetting that I am just a human being,
Just being what I am now.

Change is unstoppable, just like the flow of water,
People change, so does life,
Making sad almost all the time.
They say you are the one with wisdom,
I can only see you as the one with regret.

"Life is beautiful" as you state,
So why it becomes so hard living like ...

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"You have been here a few days now",

"Since Saturday", she replied

"And why did you come in here?"

"Because I attempted suicide"

She didn't have any worries,

She wasn't sad or happy,

It was blank, emotionless state,

Nothing to do, nothing got her interest,

Now been quite a few time living through this noiseless rhyme,

It was like a vegetative state, living in her mi...

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No more asking of “what” and “why”;

As always, silence replaces the weeping.

I keep repeating that you are not alive,

But you are not dead either, you are just sleeping.

I hear your steps on the staircase,

Your voice rushes in, then, the smell of your hair.

You smile at me, and I look through your face

As the cold of eternity fills up the air

And rests on the lifeless face ...

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When your soul returns to Ras Dashen many years from now,

Time will stop to acknowledge your final descent.

Time will give no pardon.  Time will take no vow.

As a child again, you will walk through the land.

At the mountain foot olive trees are the same;

They were guarding your peace from below and above.

When the world seemed unfair – this is where you came,

This is where you...

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Today's blog is a poem (well, two poems actually) where there are two versions of the poem and I have not yet been able to settle my feelings about which version 'wins'. I feel like there should stay two versions of it.

Version 1 – Personal

If Life will be what it has to be,
And Death will come when it comes,
And all the moments that I breathe
Happiness still is mine to give myself...

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Who am I?

Who knows? not I !

Perhaps, I'll find out

when I die

When in the ground 

cross armed I lie

and become 

the congregation spy

Will friends & family

sincerely cry

Or, perhaps pretend

and also lie?

Will I hear truths

I now deny?

Or, will they say

'Oh! What a guy!'

Will happy thoughts

of times gone by

Just turn to thoughts

of ...

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