Monday, June 23, 2008

Life and Death


And for some reason that topic and subject of that dark grim reaper death comes to mind on this day. And maybe it's because I have learned that yet another person that I knew of has passed away and died. And I am afraid of death and have always been scared of death these days. And what is the purpose of life if one must die as if one has never existed or had never been born. And yet death is a part of life. And what does death look like besides those skeletons and grim reaper pictures that come to take you away when the time has come for your soul to leave planet earth or wherever it goes. And who knows what death looks like or what life looks like after death, as I have not ever talked to a person who has said he has came from the dead or has seen death. And I am not a fan of death, or of news of death, and it is always a drag to hear that someone has passed away. And there must be lots of sayings, philosophies, proverbs and phrases on the topic of death, and they are passing me now. And I came across this poem the other day that seems as if it could be about death. And I thought it interesting to repost:

I am no Queen
I sit a widow and shall see sorrow
I kannot walk any further
my journey may end here
there are no words to take away the pain
to replace a person who is gone
my eyes are dim and heavy with grief
I kannot close them
I do not wish to see the darkness they hold
this this which I have greatly feared
has come upon me with trembling
kausing all my bones to shake
I am scared with dreams and terrified
with visions of what will my funeral be like
when I die today at this very moment
will there be a funeral
who will come and who will pay
will they eulogize me and what will they say
leave me to sit and decay
make me your centerpiece in a chair dressed up dead
preserve me with spices, mummify me
let the birds of the air pluck me
the beast of the field tear me
till I be consumed by maggots and
dust and fly away when I die
there hath been no greater love than
that which hath been
it is the sound of Rachael mourning for
the children that never were
no one to comfort her
no where to wail lament save the ocean
why died the not from the womb
why died they not the breast prevent them from suck
why died they not the knees prevent them
why died they not give up the ghost that
no light shine upon this day
cursed be the man that saith the child is born this day
it is the wake of a funeral procession about to begin
it was a sunny day that day across the street from the graveyard
and we all laid down in our coffins to die


Have a great life, death and poetry day.
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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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