mortality (Remove filter)

Waiting

there's that distance in her

something remote and far

like the canals of Mars, an

ice monolith atop a star

 

her soul of cosmic mystery

went to places I cannot ken

sheathed in armoured silk

none knew where or when

 

in those blue eyes is infinity

windows on time and space

blinking before shutters up

in a cryptic chain-mail face

 

enigmatic were her ridd...

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distantfarinfinityinterstellarMarsmortalitymysteryremotewaiting

Streaming Relief

Saw him crying,
a friend's father died today,
what can anyone say?
--the emptiness of trying

in that, this passage
of advancing age
we all are departing,
puzzled by the parting

filled with fears,
and pent-up tears
trying to make sense,
of a tangled past-tense

memories stab
the inner core like
clawing a scab
scratched bloody,
grief
an unwanted buddy
the only relief

trying...

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griefmortalityTears

Wraith

Wraith

 

We all reach that point in life

Where Halloween holds no magic

The ragged clothes and haggard looks

The pale of face and wrinkled mask

The wild unkempt hair of cobwebs

The brittle touch of ancient hand

 

The racing heartbeat

Pounding out its horror rhythm

The nervous look into dark corners

Death waiting across the grey veil

A cold sweat and night chi...

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ageingdeathgrowing oldhalloweenhorrormortalityrealitywraith

I'm a cliché (mused)

Mused/inspired by 'If only for a Moment' by Devon Brock

 

I'm a cliché, a subtle curve in the great cycle of life.
I hold the same importance in the grand scheme of things
as a drop of water or a grain of sand,
somehow autonomous
yet an integral part of an ocean,
or a monolithic mountain boulder,
a particle of mist in a hurricane
What next?
Perhaps we take the form of a hybrid,
a sa...

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cycle of lifecyclicalhumanityinspiredmortalitymusedmusesmusing

A Belabored Gardening Metaphor

Fertility varies from place to place.
In my hometown, cilantro would take over
The yard if you weren’t careful. Some
People don’t like the smell, but I loved
The fragrant flood of mulch and pollen
Whenever I mowed. (It was the only joy
I found in mowing.) A cilantro haze
Always encircled by volunteer chilis
Standing as spicy sentinels guarding
The perimeter of the lawn with indifference.

...

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ageinggardeningmortality

The Last Rose

On a snowy day,

In a dimly lit street,

An ailing girl, utterly dismayed

Perches under the canopy of an enormous tree.

 

Looking heavenward,

Her eyes well up a little.

Perhaps she’s waiting for a special someone,

But all that comes to her are snowflakes, frosty and brittle.

 

She tears the icy veneer of the earth

With her gloved fingers.

And buries a white rose b...

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burydeathgirlmortalityPoetryrosesadsnowtragedy

Mortality

Mortality stalks me 
like a jealous lover.

Breathlessly follows me
wherever I go, incessantly
banging a gong, 

chanting, 

it won't be long, 
come to me, let 
the pain end.

My eternal soul sees
this game of mortal gods 

and challenges me

to go where mortals
fear to tread...

Meditate in silent space
past the black hole,

beyond illness,
depression, despair

to that ...

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artdeathdepressiondespaireternityfreedomillnesslegacylifemagicmortalitypoetrysoulwriting

Morning Mellow

With eyes closed
I'm morning mellow
and grateful

Survived another crash
the screech of a derailment
isn't mine this time
but it only gets later 
in the day of my life
my luck must be spilling out
soon to all be spilled

Morning mellow, with eyes closed
still invincible 
at thirty seven

Beyond the pane
summer wind rips
licks at the glass
makes me feel small
and safe, for now

...

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deathinvinciblelifemortalityyouth

Mortality

I see him at my window tonight.
The moon, full and bright
Casts his dark shadow onto an icy wall.
A familiar silhouette, unmistakable,
Pressed against the pane.
The cold melts his breath into feathery diamonds
Running in thin veins down the thick glass.
His face, hidden and veiled in black
Glances my way and nods;
I nod back
Acceptingly. Suddenly,
The glass no longer divid...

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Deathfearhumanitylosslostmortalitypassingpoempoetryreaper

Walk Through September and Make it to the Other Side

hear the sound of every rusted, blunted mace

as they greet and meet  through gravity’s lack of grace,

each at thirty two point two,

the fateful rate of this heaving season

 

where fruits misplace a summer’s trust to kiss the dirt

and, where they fall, corrode and stall the wheels of love

for those we find untouchable

 

while yet our hearts may still enmesh, b...

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autumnfallmortalityunrequited love

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