Friday, 24 June 2011

The Poetry of Death

****

Softly now, and gentle
The hands of heaven descend
They touch us once and leave us
Whilst our hearts rend
Torn by the taste
Of what might be, and will
Leaving us bereft
For home so ill.

****

Dark, dark the veil of tears
In a silver boat we face our fears
Sailing away from a red-gold sky
Cresting each wave, on our way to die.
The journey over, we're just passing through
This earth holds no more, for me, for you
On into love and warmth and light
No sea and no sun—and no more night
Death is a step in the right direction
The first thing toward a heavenly connection
Fear, the natural dread of all unknown,
In time, they say, even that will be gone.
The final countdown to a heavenly peace
Where quiet reigns and all is grace.

****

Black, black the water
But bright is the shore
Across the heavenly ocean
Where our life pours
Like so much blackened water
Over the blessed shore
May God forgive our trespass
And make us black no more.

****

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

So recently my friend and I, author at worksofperception.blogspot.com (check it out) swapped blogs for a post, me writing a poem on his, he writing a poem on mine. We were curious to see if the styles would be obviously different, and how the audiences would react. Go to the above-posted link to check out my poem: Lying in Secret.

Sunday, 5 June 2011

Beneath heavens hung thick with grief
Where leaves are squandered on the earth
And riches squandered on the thief
and doughnuts squandered on my girth--

There lie I, beneath the vaults
(this earth is but the grave of heaven)
and watch the squandered universe-waltz
Wheeling stars, the sum of seven.

The sum of seven--it's simple math--
this swirling batch of chemistry--
the universe-waltz is a simple laugh
grieving, squandered, but boasting free.