Category: death poetry
-
Song for Her Majesty the Ex
We were legendary, dear, doubt it never King and queen of fourteen-liners and verse Time moves on, yet in the reflection of that moment Printed in books with our names . . . we were great How was it we lost admiration for each other? Competition? No. Complication. Life Got in our way of living.…
-
An Altar for Julianne
we have no candlesneither an altar in our homeour sacred spaces all lie withinnot so much by choiceas by accidental embarrassmentof riches – a house too fullof banality to house the holy . . . yet how many hours we sendprayers into our hearts, upunto the heavens, out tomanifest the universe . . . tonight,…
-
81
the internet keeps warning usbut common sense demandswe remain skeptical – and yet . . .strange to think, in light of current events –Russians in Ukraine, Zion in Gaza,the rest of the world posturing in protest . . .somehow the world goneberserk . . . war any moment, evenhere, might break out. perhaps littletremors, perhaps…
-
Poem 74
it’s the time of night – morningfour a.m. I would feed heradminister 11 units of insulinand treasure her while she was here she is gone – the insulin passed onto someone whose dog still needsbut here I am, parsing out foodfor our Sparky and the grand-dog tears won’t wash my soul of thisand I haven’t…
-
64 and Going
Poem 64 coffee is onyet not readyI wonder what’s in my head todayfingers eager on the keyboarddance to my heart’s staggeryellow daffodils in a green glass vasetease my memoryor perhaps my imaginationcontext eludesbut the image enduresthree yellow daffodilsclover-green glass vase dm pitchford 12/28/23
-
Winter Walk: challenge poem #35
must be a dry landwhen right as rain means good I’m a wandering pilgrimwalking wildernesses bright as hellwinter rain feeling wrong as sinjudged by loss and stung by deathstagger through this barren monthfiery as arctic auroras in search of a new flowerto gift my morning-eyed loverand salve her shattered heartwhere we spread the ashesof our…
-
Challenge Poem #19
Too much the peacemakershe says this in snide toneas though it were an abominationshe aims for triggersI no longer hostand so I see the truthdenied all these yearssorry, mum, you don’t get tohurt me any moreeven witches can’t come backfrom cremation. dmpitchford 12/10/23
-
Challenge Poem #18
seventeen black birds sitting on lamp postsseven on this side and seven on thatand three down this side next to the four-lanegazing all this direction bold as blue sky hooked necks craning, marking them buzzardsnot ravens, never saying ‘nevermore’and Hitchcock in the passenger seat nodsappreciation, those birds are not his birdsand Kentucky sure ain’t Kansas,…
-
Poem 9
oh historic asp of fortune, strike truemy breast and lay me low upon the ages!beside cleopatra, though no lowerpleb than I ever was born. strike true, asp!strike true that I may die with my beloved!strike true that I do leave this tortured worldbehind to the hands of anonymousothers who might or not love with passionall…
-
Poem 7
Too much knowledge exists to be truly wisein one lifetime. how were we to know? truthis but the carcass, feathers the facts thattailor the bird . . . what evidence revealswe all too often disregard – we of thesentimental persuasion, and victimsof formative faiths in our hostage years.Too much of faith remains to be truly…
Fringemonkey Scribbles 