Tag Archives: death

mother

mother
walks but is dead
been dead many years
even before her eyesight started going
blaming blindness for her downfall

to her entire life from birth to a walking death of 97 years
she waits
nothing
no expectations
nothing to make her whole
and so it is with her children
two unformed worthless lives
i am one of them
nothing

i, the epitome of nothing
wish i was in the womb and aborted

     


Oh It’s Hard

#7Part I
Your rules
My life
I bend my knee
Genuflect, genuflect
Praise God! How many rules you make in God’s name
God’s virtue everlasting
By your rules.

Say what?
God speaks to you and we obey
You
Dear God
I too am a supplicant
Am I not worthy of your voice in my ears?
Aligning the world to your ways
Directly?

Actually
There are no interlopers
Just you
But no
Just me
You see, you don’t exist.
How silly people are
So needy
They find existence overwhelming without a guiding hand
The effort to be without you
—unfathomable
I am, therefore I exist
I don’t—need you
You are a contrary to my existence.

Glory be to God!
Glory be to Man!
Glory be to blood spilled in the name!
The name is one!
The name is all!
I am—who am I.
Heretic.

Not so if there is no God
But there are so many
And that, dear friend, is the problem.

Part II
In this time of blood and warmth
(Meant I good tidings and cheer, how blood poured forth, cannot be told)
So I repeat (repent?)
In this time, good tidings to you,
When love abounds (why not year round?)
I wish that all were gathered near
In joy and much convivial cheer
This time bodes well (though ill can seem)
For jackets downed (the geese do scream)
Fat woolen socks warm our feet (the sheep, now sheered, are prime meat)
This said, we gather round the fire
(the trees cry out as they expire)
Ah, what a sorry state it is
When joy is but one half
the other undermining
So is the way we have conspired
To hide the misery created
Behind belief that God inspired
Our indignation of people fated to expire.
So be it.

A Christmas tale is in the making
The deer, so charming to our eyes
Starves, as winter’s cold sets in and snow abounds
Too deep to forage in the land.
Death overtakes us all.


Flesh to Earth

#1
I weep for one who cannot hear
But nonetheless I weep
The tears seep through my hardened heart
Into my swollen breast
Shattering my mind apart
That I may still find rest.

Soldier, ride from battle, ride
Broken mind and soul
Ride until the heavens part
And swallow, one and all.

Weep, weep, weep and then
Turn into the wind
Till rain and tears are one, my love
And flesh to earth becomes.
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
#2
Loneliness dissolves to tears
Sickness eats my heart
Eyes that sorrow blinds
And the world slips apart.

In death are we not made whole?
For who can say this is not so
Can testify to life beyond
If there be one, then let us go
If there be none, let the dead rest
Free of pain and sorrow’s weariness.

Lament not the passing
Yours draws nearer each hour.

#3
Nearer is mine
So near your asking holds it
Mine, trivial to the world around
Yet
I would dissolve this union of flesh to bone
Could I hold to my resolve
But
Left with promises unfulfilled
Life continues
So seemingly even
Smiles correct
Heart drawn and quartered

Oh, had you not asked!


dark nights, dark dreams

crowdblog
Down, down, and down
down
sewers
black holes with fetid water
the wine of a city
blinded by cheap lights
cheap thrills
too costly to survive
only in dreams.

On clouds
dreams ghost by
the gold ring beckons
horse heads break
ancient wood, brittle and neglected
your forgotten dreams
misunderstood
when horses ran round and round
and laughter was the only sound.

Now grown
decapitated and dethroned
you shuffle back and forth to work
down subway steps
towards black earth
and rats that scurry, finding death
anticipating you, along the way
will find the fall
complimentary.

You casually accept the entry
the underworld so grim
there to find your long-lost kin.


time past

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
In the boarding house across the way
Youth and age had made their way
One begins, one ends
For both the years did terrify,
Hours torment their minds away
Unpleasant days filled with fear
One enraged, the other in tears.

Remember time
Remember me
Remember how life used to be
Before we felt that cruelty
Was common to our every day
And conversations turned that way.

How was it then
When we were young
How fanciful the days begun
Bright sun and moon, a crystal sky
Snow flakes that made you question why
The world did spin and spin and spin
And dance around your every whim.

It comes together, this season called
Winter, cold and uncommonly hard
To pass without sheer agony
Settling in this timeless world.
Leaves truth behind,
Behind it stays
While trudging, we make our way
Bent, broken, all from birth
So lacking to the core, our worth.


A New York Nightmare

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASunnyside, so comforting a name
Now can only claim
A place of death,
Another in NYC.

Queens, so regal it proclaims
But harbors those who maim
And kill the innocent of this a city,
Inured to violence
A purple heart of death.

We honor killing, murder, depravity
And toss aside what’s left of our humanity
Replacing it with such insanity
That souls are set adrift.


In darkness

Ghosts
Choking as the phantoms grasp-
It never ends.

The memories
Damn the memories.
Heart sickens at the time past, the future narrowing.

Enemy and friend.
Mind blanks and then retrieves convoluted queries
All answers unavailable.

He was the most handsome.
Not I, but you said this.
I, who watched his growth
His muscles swell into a well seasoned athlete
Honed by meticulous care.
Yes, I did this.
With only memories left to console.
This I have done to myself.


the train left the station…

hummed to the tune of Cat Stevens “Peace Train”

Now I’ve been thinking lately, about the bad things to come
And though you don’t believe it, they’ve already begun.

Oh I’ve been crying lately, seeing the world come apart
And though you don’t believe, its already begun.

Cause in the night, coming slowly, comes disaster
Oh Romney, Obama, ride us, ride us into the ground again.

Now I’ve been thinking lately, about the bad things to come
And soon you will believe it, the worst is yet to come.

The bombs are sounding louder
The cries of hunger thunder round
People on the street
Destitute, you and me.

Everyone go for cover
Cover up, cover up

Write your will, your’s and your friends’ too
The end is gettin’ nearer, nearer to me and you.

Now to join the dead, six feet underground
Death is all around, in the air and in the ground.

The bombs are sounding louder
The cries of hunger
People on the street
Yes, destitute, me and you

Everyone get a shovel
Dig that earth today
Dig, dig, dig
Dig your grave away.


can you stop the tears?

i cry
eternally I cry
deep inside of you
tears flow
tears I know
long each one wept
we wept, through heartache
through life’s end
now we cry
past these
past every event
we cry for our end
finality it brings, loss eternally.


go quietly in the night

come join me
come join my tears
come see the world as it is.

come join me
come see despair in every corner of the world.
cry no more, for you are yet to join,
tears are ours,
tears are everywhere.

Come see pain first hand
technology will not prevent the torture at our hands.
We are inconsolable
We are replete with regret
as we dip into hell, past heaven’s gate.

Lord save me, though I do not believe.
But once, just once, prove you know the total despair
Wreaked on this earth from those who dare
to use your name to justify the horror
wrought
the suffering of generations to come.

Once I thought that being childless was sad, but now I know this is not so
That I did not endanger another
Nor contribute to the misery we are inclined to.
Look at me, my years unfolded
Long life I wished, one time I thought
Now I know, somewhere, not far, lies answers
To end now is the only answer
To stay a manifestation of a lie.


Outrage in Okinawa, New York Times, Nov. 2, 2012

Once an Osprey was a bird
Magnificent in its form, transcendent in its life,
We have turned nature to steel, the osprey to beast
Mechanical and huge
Lumbering in the sky on gasoline, blades chopping the air, heavy and cursed.

What have we done
Not only the sadness of the Okinawans burden our shoulders
We too bear the devastation of insanity.

Rape, perennial, lays fallow to be resurrected again and again,
Against the women
Against the men
Flesh torn, sullied
Minds crushed, numbed.

We do not answer.

We are the devils of the earth
Asleep
We will not rise till we are done
Incinerating our land, our men, our women
Incinerating our minds
Till our thoughts are no more.

Did you think a thought?
Not one, no more, as we follow, donkeys all, packed meaningless by our masters, slaves all, technology our master, Halliburton (etc) our owners.

And then Romney? Would woman have no right to her body? To work for less than man?
Control her, would you this?
Why must she pay for your ego?
You, who have not provided
You, who have demeaned her to maintain your own self-worth.

What plaything is she that
Without her, you would not exist
Is that your worry?
You, who are not whole, need another.
No god are you, lacking too, no charm nor feeling
Blunt you may be
She is the light of life
The sun for your warmth
The hawk in the wind, circling for the babe’s morning meal.
She is your other half
And all you do
All you can feel
Is a horror that she is something, someone you need.

Cry I, cry again and again.
Cry more and more each day.
Till tears are floods and floods tsunamis
Till my heart bears no more and I have ceased to be.


I cannot end these tears

why so my heart breaking
why do these tears come tumbling
flooding my soul
why must I feel so empty

oh lord, why am I so adrift, disconsolate
cannot just one thing in this universe make me whole
must I search till my heart breaks for finding nothing to replace the one being
that made my life whole
I cannot end these tears
there is no reason nor recourse for the tale that echoes forth
I have but solitude to seek and in that state I would find a glimmer of my former self
I am hyperbole and so inclined to meaningless allusions
I am a fragment of what you see
and inclined to be nothing more than the wind
and more a figment than truth
I am reality, but only in that fantasy that we perforce seek to surrender ourselves.
oh god, must I be this
I should drown in sorrow before I regain a spectrum of humanity
that this humanity be but wind and water, both gone and vanished into the air
I am but soiled in how I did regard the hearts of others
and yet I would relive these sorrows were you to let me pass to worlds that would divine the beauty of the world to come.
Let so my passage be, and to this I would incline my one true heart
to meet that heart I know does await, if not one true love, than one I should love, and with your will
I truly set my soul to be the keeper of this trust, to that I do compel myself
to fail thee not in this endeavor.


I remember…

How quiet he is.
In death as in life.
Soft, smooth, once warm, now cold and stiff.
Gone my love. Gone my long companion of days adrift and nights awake.
Gone now, gone forever, three feet down, an amendment to the soil.

To mask my pain and ask forgiveness.
What life did you lead. Were you served well, you who bent your head and body to my will.

I did ignore. I did. I remember well.

Soft, my boy, soft next to me, so easy to put aside.
To gather back those times, the endless repetition of a life’s attitudes, changed never, repentant forever. Time finite. Time infinity.

You left, and I sit, shocked that 16 years passed before me, unnoticed.
Asleep in your place on the floor, the discomfort comforts. The last sleep and weariness of each day blurs my mind of thought and emotion. Kept at bay, I exist.


End of life

What happens when you lose all reasons for living, when existence seems meaningless?
Why does this happen?
Is it simply the result of a set of circumstances, or is it inherent in the person, something that was always there and only needed a trigger to be set free?
And when you begin to go over the things you want to put in order so that your death will not put others in distress over the things you may have left unattended?
And when you solidly believe that even though you maintain the ability to laugh and enjoy certain aspects of this world, that your existence is worthless and noncontributory to the betterment of the community, in such a way that you feel there will be no loss, but surely a gain for others, as you leave space and resources for others to make better use of?
And even when you formulate these feelings, a part of you remembers something you truly wanted to do, and already you want to postpone your end in order to accomplish this one thing.
The result, though, is no less sad, for the depression remains, and joy is only fragmentary.
Ending seems so more fulfilling than constant mediocrity.


Love gone, lone death, lost again

I turn and he is not here
Cannot remember
I stumble time, time and again, the memory jolts me awake
He is not here.

So why I, in pain, do I return home?
Is the bother of living worthwhile?
Cannot you see that all is misplaced?
If not for him, then why?
Myself, I am obscure, irrelevant.
Contributions to the face of man escape the scribe’s pen

Will time erase the pointlessness of days passed in dreary acquiescence?
Pain dulled by daily drink
Drunk by noon-day light
Slumbering till morning light
Pretending that day is night.

Why is existence so perverse that life cannot itself erase
stupidity of man’s footfalls
that deemed by others are acquired of gifts and glories
not deserved
And go beyond the grave
Imbued by all to be the virgin’s gift of glory everlasting?

Wronged, wronged, forever wronged!
Downed, screaming wronged!
Break my soul that I should live beyond this day, this time
Knowing misery creeping through life’s decay
of mind and spirit. Of rot and putrification.

Take kindly or not at all
In this, in that
Your mind it would collapse
But for the curtain drawn and closed
The daily play that would unfold
Is shuttered under hasp.


Gone


Every breath is petrifying.

As your end nears
my loneliness increases.

Where am I. One day you will die.
And I will be alone.
This understanding is not yours.
Perhaps you understand how limited time is
Perhaps you understand life is ebbing.

And accept it.
To accept end of life.

Every breath is petrifying.


father of your heart

A dad is a father. A father of your heart, a bastion of your dreams, a stalwart of your beliefs. My father is the one I loved, to hold me in my times of need, to comfort all life’s cruel injustices.
Oh god, how have I failed! My father is deceased and I have not rendered him his worth, his truth, his justice. I am unconsoled, for no other knows my failure. Remiss in this life, will I pay for it in another? Can you degrade a father, diminish his worth, devalue his existence? Shall I genuflect? Oh God, should I but honor his life, would I release the longing in me that prevents it, the need to tear apart his self, for his was a betrayal of mine, a denial of another’s life. Forgive me, padre, abba, father of my dreams. How often have I longed for your attention, and fear prevented me from asking, do you love me? Do you know I exist? Do you know I need you? I am but a frail child, alone, adrift, filled with self-loathing for being unloved. And you, yourself unloved, how could you know this? Were we not the same? Alone, apart, we could not touch, there was nothing to say. Controlled by others, by our concepts of others, by our convictions of others deeds, we were silent. How I longed to hear your voice in concert with mine. Would we not have been so perfect, a perfection to God, an understanding between father and daughter? You have betrayed me as much as I you. Strike me, strike me dead that I may know the pain that crossed your path, that ate your soul, that forced you from forgiving those around you. Love I have now, as then, but I would not tell. Can love be hidden so long without it bleeding? So dark is the blood of my tears I cannot tell you the horror it sees, the pain of centuries of unforgiving. Why cry? Ask yourself a thousand times. And a thousand more, for it is a waste of time to think there will be an answer.


the door that opens and breathes

And so another week is past and with it comes a return to a way of life that was quickly diminishing in reality. Adaptability is so deceiving. A species that can close the mind to pain as well as pleasure, can start from dawn as though none else existed. Who am I that I can toss off one life easily, cavalierly falling into step with another, chasing ghosts and dreams simultaneously? Would I give up everything to be warm? I would. The pain of cold lives in my mind, the door that opens and breathes in the morning air, a chill of October reminiscent of November. Long winters looming, with empty beds and firewood to be hauled. Can I remember being a child? I have dreams of fulfillment, of a life rich with love and meaning. Tears well when I wake. Who is this person whose life in sleep is sweeter than the life awake? Oh to reenter one’s dreams, to live there forever. Are there others of my ilk?

What we do is superfluous, destructive to wellbeing, beyond a genetic need of survival, a crime of humanity, a crime of environment, a crime of God. Belief is unnecessary to comprehend the crimes committed. You understand yourself as criminal, conspirator, rapist and raptor, devourer and devoured.

Flesh laid open, a feast fetid with generations of flys, maggots, larvae, bones of the dead reaching to draw you nearer. Bones of the living, rotten flesh, your nightmare borne of reality. Eaten even as you live, segments wasting away before eyes laid hollow from multitudes of lies, deceit, denials.

How do we fill our lives, and as we fill them, do we deny the existence of others unable to participate in the frivolity of our existence? Even this, even now, even I conspire to forget. I forge an existence made of vapors. Thus I render myself untouchable. But I am made of this place and am dependent for my needs. Were I to fly free, where would I go? Were I to be free, what would I do? Were I to understand that I am already free, would anything change? How am I so useless? Is it by comparison? Can I say, “I did not do that, therefore I am nothing?” Or, “Look at his/her accomplishments—they are not mine—I am nothing.” What I have done, what I can do, I see as being selfish and useless, of no consequence to a world peopled with pain, parented by hunger, housed by the homeless. I am the rain that breaks the dam, flooding the lands, being cursed by the righteous and the damned. I am the mid-day sun, parching the field destroying the crops, killing the inhabitants as I consume the earth. Where is my beauty, the smile of my youth? Buried. Buried six feet, with earth and stone upon my grave, unknown in death as in life. Why do you visit him? You have loved him as did I. But I know it is pointless, this ritual of burial, this memorial of headstone. And so what first I did not do out of confusion, I now will not do out of grief and guilt.


Lapse of the mind – #2

pa1501289-blogTear out the telephone. Then deal with screaming people, complaining, cajoling; you need a phone, we need you to have a phone, its not healthy; what if something happens, what if…
So what if, so what. If I had wings I’d fly. If I had sense I’d put the dog in the car and leave. Leave it all. House, friends, family, bills, taxes, job, no job, just leave. Alone, always alone. Before life, during life, after life.
Now after life. That’s funny. Memories of “before” life? Is today real? Grim. Yesterday is nonexistent. One chance. One breath.
Loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers go to war, die. Endless bloodletting in another land. Bloodletting on our streets. Empathy, nonexistent, empty words. Death is benevolent, the last refuge.


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