Tag Archives: life

The last word

what shall be your last word spoken

what shall be that last word said

will there be a soft one listening

there beside your final bed

..

or if you would leave on some non descript day

will the word be a mumble as you rush on your way

as you kiss her, fleeting, on a passing cheek

“pickup my dry cleaning, it’s been over a week”

..

week?

..

so much hurrah over baby’s first word

yet of grandad’s last, who knows; no one heard

no one leaned into the crackles of fading breath

to decipher his utterances

welcoming

death

..

what shall be your last word spoken

what shall be that last word said

speak as if that last day arrives

so fleeting is life

on fragile thread

..

For Soriah…. I was listening x

A very special lady joined our WordPress family less than a month ago…. making immediate friends with her warm words, encouragements and vivacious soul.

Soriah is now preparing her final journey from this mortal coil, and her blog “Poetry and Chocolate” has disappeared into the digital ether.
I was able to briefly re-blog one of her wonderful poems before it slipped away too.

Please wish her well….

Soriah, best wishes on the journey. Remember to dress warm … heaven is surrounded by vast tumbling, iced clouds sweetheart ….. ❤️❤️

Lustre

to the sunrise deprived

and the sunset depleted

rest your eyes, listen to me

make sure you are seated

..

your anemic soul wears aura pale

thirsting for answers of light

circadian constrained, faltering, frail

pupils dimming, desperate for sight

..

so let me describe

in this most wistful scribe

blissed, burnished memories held

of sun’s exquisite horizon meld

..

my beloved misanthrope

these heavens are a pastiche of your dreams

through my exuberant eyes you will gasp

at such

phantasmagoric

scenes

Shedding

you have taken my coat

you have torn off my shirt

you have ripped at my skin

entrails contained barely within

 

a gratuitous graze

of your sordid fingernails

in obtuse arrays

a chorus of wails

from the anguished self

 

you have emblazoned my scalp

with a thorned crown

raise me up, arms outstretched

then tear me down

 

i shed myself of you

the shards of me puncture your heels

your scars rest subcutaneous deep

yet my soul bears cavernous

weals

 

 

Centrifugal

you are attracted to my shine

watching me twirl

trying to define

such an essence, sublime

a diffident whirling dervish

divine

 

with speed the sparks fly

and you stand closer

intoxicated, i so spry

warm becomes …

well … let’s just say “deep fry”

for such spectacle

none may decry

 

but

such revolutions as they daze

shall never fortify the ways

of your haphazard, gloating gaze

 

and I slow

tipping to fall

my spinning top

a fizzing fireball

 

ignite me again

Wilted

I have all the time in the world

for you

Which is to say

I’ve found a little fertile patch of ground

Sheltered from the sear of the day

And there place, with gentle press

You, single seed

In state of pre-pumule* undress

..

But the early spring

Is cooler

than most

And the frigid ground

a near inhospitable host

for your translucent roots

..

So you turn from my hesitant gaze

You course through weeds,

their maze

a convolute of root and thorn

such wayward course, I try to warn

..

you

wilted shoot

I shall not mourn

*The plumule is the part of a seed embryo that develops into the shoot bearing the first true leaves of a plant.