Tag Archives: death

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The Death Notebooks – Book Spine Poetry

A little ripple has begun… a powerful wave is coming. From Nicola to May J to me.

Book Spine Poetry – the object of this is to pick a few books off of your bookshelf and arrange them so that the titles tell a poem. You can link yours to Nicola above or use the tag #BookspinePoetry. Here is mine, although I won’t have the pictures to go along with it. I will list the authors at the end though.

The Death Notebooks

Losing Faith
Innocence
Ordinary Light
Finding the Lost Ones

 

Authors:

The Death Notebooks – Anne Sexton
Losing Faith – Adam Mitzner
Innocence – Heda Margolius Kovaly
Ordinary Light – Tracy K. Smith
Finding the Lost Ones – Sandra L. Olson

 

 

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The River and The Sea

The deep felt tragedy of this:

“If only it could bear the dead
And bring you back to me”

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No Talent For Certainty

The river travels through the land
And out into the sea;
If only it could bear the dead
And bring you back to me

We’d travel off into the blue,
And far away from shore:
But we all go where we must go,
And you’ll be back
No more

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That Bastard Schopenhauer – Poetry

To say that all we desire:
Procreate and then die!
Death is all that awaits me then —
My memory fades
with no offspring to emulate me
no one to say, she’s just like her mother
No, no one will praise
these ghastly hands nor this bitter mouth
nor these sheets of words
worn raw and bloodied
My own selfish claw ripped
away any hope of excellence
No amount of labor will bear my likeness —
No colony of bees will swarm
To protect my womb
No, not for me —
I will die as I have lived
alone and lonely upon this earth
forgotten, forgotten
and give my last breath to Death

Copyright ©2014, Lori Carlson

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Bid Me Rest – Poetry

Death hangs over me
like storm clouds
I am mere bones
feigning to be whole

If you look closely
you can see
my skeletal sockets
where blue eyes
once shined–now empty
lifeless, no beauty

See these arms?
Trace each scar
feel each vein, deaden
I’ve leeched
blood too often
no pulse

And this battered heart?
A fisted stone, hardened
by years of love lost
beats became stillness
even you cannot spark
a rapid response
no currents

I am dead
reduced to bones
bury me
and bid me rest!

©January 2016 Lori Burks

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A Waste of Time – Poetry

cemetery at night

I’ve trespassed this cemetery before
in search of your bones
I can still hear their rattle
a child’s toy
like the games we once played

I’d close my eyes, counting
you’d zigzag through stones
then duck and hide
your bones chattering
against cement
you could never hold still

I pretended to search
to give you a moment’s reprieve
a semblance of sanity
as I called out long lost ghosts
and then popped out behind you
your hair standing on end
as fright overcame you

It was a waste of time
to include you
to hope you’d enjoy these outings
the longing, the need
to be one with you there
but you were never one for the dead

I lived for the dead
slept upon gravestones
curled up in freshly dug earth
made love there, under darkness
I wanted to share this with you

It was you
who claimed I shared nothing
that I held back
kept you at a distance
roamed the streets in the night
without you
but you couldn’t understand my desires
the uncontrollable need for Death
You questioned everything
the darkness that sustained me
the need for moonlight upon my skin
the unquenchable thirst of blood
from His cup

And even when Death claimed You
You knew
I would walk these graves
call out your ghost
sleep upon your marker
and waste my time here, forever
with you

©March 2015, Lori Carlson