death

Human racing

Human racing

By jfarrell

 

(inspired by Nik Kershaw’s “Human racing”)

 

We are all trying to get ahead of each other

To be the first, to be the best

To be the wealthiest

 

We look down on each other

And curse and hate and hurt

Anything to get ahead.

 

But that isn’t the race.

There is no finish line;

Coming first, doesn’t matter.

 

The race

Is what we are running from;

The tinkle of sand in the glass;

 

It’s autumn

The time for harvest

And his scythe is razor sharp and ever ready

 

The ancient rustle of fabric

The stale odour on the air

The breath on the back of your neck

 

THAT is the race.

Let’s go Human Racing.

 

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Scars

If life was like a letter

And reality a dream

If love was somewhat better

Alive but less extreme

 

If the past was dead and rotten

And Death was just a door,

Then I could bear your loving scars

For now and evermore

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Black Hole

Into the black hole,

we all shall go,

completely erased

from existence,

 

The annihilation,

of a life's work

meaningless,

the light cannot escape

 

Fate

the shadow that lingers,

will decimate everything,

all chaos brought back to 0

 

The timeless sleep, completely

absent of thought, nothingness

into infinity

 

The black hole of death,

where many shall enter,

but none shall leave,

the timeless sleep:

prepare to dream

about nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

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tags:

My Masterpiece

Folder: 
Stages of Change

I found him small

    when he was happy

        and oh so innocent

 

When at night I could see him,

     he would close his eyes

         and wished he was normal

             like everyone else

 

So he began calling out

     and there I was 

          guiding him to his normalization.

 

I wrapped real tight

      he had trouble speaking

         so he had no choice

              but hear my whispering voice

 

I got his arms so he could stop

       stop fighting and let me consume him.

 

When one night he did.

       Now look at him,

           My Masterpiece

 

He was different, and now he is like everyone else

You can't tell from which is which.

Which stone is his?

 

      

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not my greatest but sure is the newest. I made it in the perspective of the "devil" or the inner demons that whisper and whisper until you can't take it anymore.

 

Let me Know if you have any questions.

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I've. Already. Died.

 

Were my life to just cease,

Would it even be a great loss?

Or would their grief, for me,

Be so hard to come across?

 

Would any weeping ensue,

With a heart that's so aching?

From their guilt of the years,

Convinced I, was only faking?

 

And would they even feel sorry,

For tossing me carelessly away?

For breaking my aching heart?

For causing me, such dismay?

 

Will they realize how I've hurt,

Because of their frequent inactions?

For blaming me for it all?

And for contrived-false infractions?

 

I feel buried-cold and forgotten,

Despite how hard I have tried.

Because nowadays, it's like,

..........I've. Already. Died.

 

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There Coming To Get You Barbara

There Coming To Get you Barbara

out for a ride to drop off flowers for their mother
just for Barbara & her brother
pulled up to the cemetery & looked around
a chill in the air got there late for day light savings time

Suddenly a figure crawls out at the scene
shadows block the image in their mind
demonic creatures had lurched through the portals of space
next came a tug from her brother shirt then a fight ensued

a myriad chase was underway cracking one zombie in the head
next the brother gets knocked over the head
Barbara frantic now runs to the nearby car
going too fast she puts on the gas

slamming into a tree
next she gets out of the car & runs to a nearby vacant house
it was the invasion of the zombie people
no stained glass moment or church steeple

She vaguely remembers her brother saying, "There coming to get you Barbara...
the creatures fight to get inside her dwelling she is surrounded
it's the night of the living dead

Some crazy things going on inside her head
closer they come yet she stands guarded by a humble man
sullen creatures of the night with viscous fangs that bite
blood dripping off the side all need to run away & hide

There is no escape now...

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Deathbed

Binding red ribbons
around silken syllables

Combing wisdom
from my eyelids

Stroking ashes
from my hair

psalms of our palms
sleeping in each pore

Meet me in death

Do not look
at my hands

Do not kiss
these opaque lips

They are
too old
to forgive

too young
to forget

Copyright © Kornelia Birch 

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Anubis The Forecast

Folder: 
Poetry

The sand ascended,

A whirlwind closeby.

In the tomb,

Where the dead were lain to rest.

 

From this storm raised,

The aspect of Anubis;

The god that attends the dead,

To the hereafter...

 

With robust voice raised,

He let me know:

"Dead you go!"

My destiny written down.

 

A day hereafter,

In normal life;

I drowned into the lake,

Death had grabbed me tight.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(A dream I had).

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Man's Purpose

Stepping on split skulls and bones

Of bygone daughters and sons

We head into the abyss

Embraced by hell’s dear shadows

Reality’s mundane kiss

Welcomes us in the burrows

of Death, her friend oblivion

awaiting on the doorstep,

Laughs at Man’s every next step

Nearing the grave, the none.

 

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