I know greatly, and with knowledge none other may know–
while breath still stirs inside their lungs,
while mortal pangs still grow–
Those moments, between the breath
and the drawling scream,
between the stolid rush of blood
a’flow through fingers, cold,
where lingers there, a dream;
a nightmare deathly told to deem
that naught should breath
or grow again
in sunshine, shadow, or summer rain.
A pinch below the rib,
a pinch felt with every fiber, muscle, vein, and nerve,
a tiny fleck of brittle skin, that mottles on the bone––
lost in luster, lost in verve...
For what is death? A wet slab of mortar
waiting to congeal,
a pinch no balm may heal,
or a kiss no lips may feel?
Alas!
A garden; “redolent!”
the skies declare,
where flowers waft their motley scent and stare
with sightless, fuming eyes,
intoning to the darkened skies
that amidst cold earth and soil
there lays—an end of ends,
a day of days.
And all shall be as all shall be,
so shall you see and then you too will know
that neither heaven high, or garden low
is guarded with a spade or trowel
nor watched over
by a scarecrow’s scowl.
A secret garden, therein they bade
and you, with trowel; with pick, and spade,
shall work and toil forevermore
while we sway and stare, and sport our blossoms
here and there,
saying to the nightly air...
“To tend us is to be unmade.”
6:56 PM,
March 8th, 2007
Author notes
Thank you for reading. Much appreciated are comments, thoughts, etc...
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
this is a very good poem. i really like how you used the descriptions in it. Awesome job and keep writing.
Alianne Nightseer -
For what is death? A wet slab of mortar
waiting to congeal,
a pinch no balm may heal,
or a kiss no lips may feel?
Or a rising as of warm air
into the ethers...where?
yes.
that's the place, and
every shape the face
a kiss may happen without lips
souls' touch and glide with grace
and for a moment fill one space
feeling touched much more than kissed
with not one molecule uncarressed
thus shall be the kiss of death
and so with anticipation
I hold my breath
to expedite the pace.
Shane your words inspire and romantasize as always! I shall read more tonight, I forget the delectible taste of your words when I stay away too long! Tell me what you're in the mood to read and I shall also send you too to feed!!!
xxoo
dk
-
I like this a lot, particularly the last part. It reminded me a little of a song by Genesis (with Peter Gabriel, before they were cheesified by Phil Collins) called Fountain Of Salmacis, about flowers taking over the world.
-
Intriging, eerie.. excellent write. Perfect meter, perfect rhyme. Can't find one thing wrong with this piece.
Wow! debby
-
Superb/intriguing
Wow, how do you manage to continue to top your last success. This is mavelous, indeed. Even tho I don't quite know what to say, except, I'm almost at a loss for words. Well done indeed. Written with your usual clarity of expression and excellant imagery.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
