I thought I was learning to live
but I was learning to die.
I am a simple man
who live with fellow men
who have wrinkle parchment skin
and dull dim droopy eyes.
They wear their heads
with strong unmistakable signs
of bludgeon blunt force trauma
to which sea of knowledge,
with throng school of fishes,
can be quietly observed
and quietly fed,
for those who truly desired
They lay silence in their bed,
promptly dressed,
for the setting sun
and for the piercing
ghost lit white
pentagonal moon
to decompose
their faint flesh,
their aging mind
and their earned soul
into flocks of doves.
I blink my eyes
in sign of mourning
and when my soggy eyes
force open my sight,
I look to the moon
and stared at 10 000 doves
soaring to the heavens
of the All Mighty
where in peace
they shall live.
Author notes
All night I watched ``The DaVinci File`` DVD
Any Suggestion?
Comments
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loved the idea that we can still have respect for our elders and want to share in the knowledge they pocess it was so peaceful waiting for death and the doves to help him on his journey to his last and loving home a great write and fantastic read well don
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You've been reading Stephen King with a dash of sci-fi and horror on the side.
WOW! Your brain is meshing in the most amazing way and your poem is WOWOWOWOW!
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OH! I am reading and re-reading your poem and it is like a dream and I hope I do not dream it tonight because if I do, I will go crazy. A very delightful poem of madness, if I may say that. lol
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