In The Derwent River
Don’t place my lifeless body in a box
and lay me in the cold, damp, ground,
so that in years to come they can dig me up
and move my bones around.
Place my body in a warm dark place
and ignite the walls of fire,
so my flesh and bones become ash and dust,
and I can be scattered where I desire.
poem by Orlando Belo
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My Experience Of You
i have progressed
in the satisfaction of my desire
i started with the flesh
oh! it was memorable
your lips and tongue satiated me for years
your firm body & supple breasts were so useful
and i had it to the full
but it did not end there
of course
what i had later were the bones
and sockets of your eyes
and dried veins of you once
beautiful body
it is terrible to think
about this reality!
i remained to be your lover
the faithful and consistent one
and what remained of you was dust
and i ask myself
was i that foolish to stay longer here
and love dust
all my life?
and then the wind came and blew you away
scattered whatever were you
on the trees and the seas
and what i have of you is nothing
i can use my imagination to make you stay
but i have become so mad and fickle
i must forget you
but i cannot
i nurture the spot where those dusts stayed once
i am empty
i am incomplete
and this is the end of the story
i wish upon death
one night to come
and get me at once.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Albert's Dry Bones
My ship reached your lush and comforting shore,
But my flesh had no more left than dry bones.
And these bones could remember no more
The warm breezes that now gave unheard moans.
But GOD can make these dry bones live,
As Ezekiel saw in Babylon one airy day.
And my dry bones seek for GOD to give
A body divine in which they desire to stay,
And roam the mountains that cool the air,
Collecting fruit so lavish and so ripe.
With clear eyes to enjoy a view lovely and fair,
I inhabit a world of freshness and beauty of every type.
So dry bones no more, by Omnipotence’s grace,
Nature’s bliss I now see well face to face.
BIBLE REF. – Phil.3: 9-13 and also Psa.34: 20
poem by Albert Price
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Not a Good Place to Die
Not a Good Place to Die
Not a good place to die,
Airless room.
Blank walls.
Not a good place to die,
Here death hovers.
A disinfectant smell.
Not a good place to die,
Hid away from all.
Arid stark.
Not a good place to die,
No cool breeze.
Warm sun on face.
Not a good place to die,
Alone and scared.
Cold dark.
Not a good place to die
But die he did.
Non mourned.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012.
poem by Paul Brookes
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A Temple Is Not A Temple Of Selfishness
this is my body
this is my temple
this is where my spirit lives
in flesh and bones
this is my face
this is my skin
these are my feelings
these are my hopes and aspirations
now touch me
now let your fingers run over my skin
let me feel you too
like i am no longer an island
a body of water
a river a sea where boats always sail away from me
where birds just pass and fly by
destined for another place to another shore to another bush
this is my body this is desire this is hunger and thirst and longing
feed me with your body
satisfy my thirst
fill my longings with your longings too
let your river chain my body
let your sea fill my land let your skies be above to wrap me
to shelter me to fill me also with more stars and moons and suns
let me not be all alone like a space without anything without a flicker
let me become a universe glowing and hushing and lushing with life
this is my body this is your body too
let us breathe let us touch let us push through
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Two Tears In The Wind
He asked a question
this stranger odd
with invasive eyes
that goad and prod
He smote with words
a hammer fell
with bell-like blows
a funeral knell
I felt these words
tho' not by hearing
a clacking of bones
as I hung in the wind
And a dark wind blew…
If I were to go
to a place like me
what kind of place
would that place be?
If I would awaken
in a place like me
where do you think
that place would be?
I caught a glance
of his dim reflection
a wave of anger
swept over me
Whirling about
out of my bowels
obscenities raged
in angry howls
these fatal words
wound ‘round my throat
and snake-like fear
clinched tight my heart
A rasp released
tho' not by lips
a clacking of bones
as I hung in the wind
And a cold wind blew…
A hand grasped deep
as death arrived
to gather its bounty
a time of tithes
My soul came to seed
on a lifeless stem
by a breath I'm blown
to Bethlehem
Into vastness strewn
innumerable seeds
a universe filled
all my words and deeds
That place I'll be
that place I'll go
a befitting place
foretold by me
No hope of peace,
from wailing noise
no tick, no tock
a timeless clock
Suspended I saw
though not with eyes
red dust blowing
my veins demise
And a red wind blew…
From the strangers eyes
two tears fell
one on my palm
one on my foot
On my palm…
for what I would have been
On my foot…
for where I would have gone
What a man thinks
Is what he is
What a man does
Is where he goes
poem by George Vuyakovich
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Because You Never Talk to Me...
all that is left of me will be
bones suffering takes the flesh and breaks
the nerves the sad times long
enough shall mellow these
bones into powder decently turning
later into a hundred or more
dusts then you shall
identify with me for dust
too is your final destiny
everything you are shall be dust too
you too shall mellow
now is the best time to talk
in the common ground of our final existence
but it will be too late
the strong wind by then
has blown us all away
scattered specks
lacking the specifics....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pick Up The Bones
Collecting pieces of my family
In an old pillow case
This one has a skull
But it don't have a face
These look like the arms of father so strong
And the ring on this finger
Means my Grandma is gone
Here's some legs in a cloud
Where my sister once played
Here's some mud made of blood
And these teeth are decayed
The ear of my brother
The hand of a friend
And I just can't
Put them back together again
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
There are stains on the floor
Where kitchen once stood
There are ribs on the fire place
Mixed with the wood
There are forces in the air
Ghosts in the wind
Some bullets in the back
And some scars on the skin
There were demons with guns
Who marched through this place
Killing everything that breathed
They're an inhuman race
There are holes in the walls
Bloody hair on the bricks
And the smell of this hell
Is making me sick
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the scope going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light
Now maybe someday
The suns gonna shine
Flowers will bloom
And all will be fine
But nothing will grow
On this burnt cursive ground
Cuz the breathe of the death
Is the only sound
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Brutal Planet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House
there is no other place to go
after work
when the darkness of the night
starts to hover
on my roof
this house where i rest my feet
where i put my hands
where i shut my mouth
and you are there
moving from one corner to another
asking where i put some bones
of my body
you sing as you once knew the songs
the ones that i love
that which from where my heart rests
and lulled
this is the house, a mere house
where i put my body
safely
no longer a home
my soul like a little bird had flown somewhere
years ago
i know where it is sleeping
you ask me
but i will not tell you
how will you ever know?
the place
it is so quiet
you are restless and noisy and messy
so loveless
so sad and you keep on laughing taunting
about my loss
my death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alienation.....
i am going to places
looking for something
at night when everything
is cold and silent
in that far place where i
am in
i think somehow that it is
is not a place that i am looking for
it could be someone
to warm my side
i dislike the thought of greed
for i have already some
of them
it dawns upon me
the sad truth that i am looking for
myself
someone that i have not really found
despite the years
because i have been blind
and deaf
and mute
do i know that we are together
in one body and
yet so
strangely
alienated
with what we really want
to have and to even
just touch?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Grave Was Empty!
we took down the body of God,
and stripped the flesh
from the bones with razor sharp knives.
out of this flesh we made hunger.
we carefully cut the heart out,
and out of this heart we made weapons.
we plucked out the eyeballs,
and out of them we made greed.
from the bones we built houses
in which no one could live.
we scattered the remains
over the sands... and from them
we made oil, the force that drives!
there was nothing left,
not even for the crows...
and they wonder why
the grave was empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Living thing has to perish
Any living thing has to perish
Any start will have to finish
We are all mortals so face the disintegration
Nothing to remain behind with any such relation
Your journey and quest starts from the day one
It is not taught by or guided by any one
It is from the clear instinct that you surge ahead
It may be immaterial whether you fall back or take the lead
The body is made up of bones and flashes
It may get torn up if subjected to lashes
Even the river water washes bank
Thinking seriously and always thank
We have to find permanent refuge
The task is not small but very huge
We will have to find place to rest
When time comes to call off after delivering best
The soul may be air borne when body is laid
“It has no use without body” proverbs said
Everything comes to an end when you are no more
There is permanent place to sleep with heavy snore
You have found the place near the grave
You were so powerful and very brave
It did not help when final countdown started
You left the place with heavy heart and really parted
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Death Sonnet I
From the icy niche where men placed you
I lower your body to the sunny, poor earth.
They didn't know I too must sleep in it
and dream on the same pillow.
I place you in the sunny ground, with a
mother's sweet care for her napping child,
and the earth will be a soft cradle
when it receives your hurt childlike body.
I scatter bits of earth and rose dust,
and in the moon's airy and blue powder
what is left of you is a prisoner.
I leave singing my lovely revenge.
No hand will reach into the obscure depth
to argue with me over your handful of bones.
poem by Gabriela Mistral
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Too Confining
Somewhere far from this body I'm in
is where I'm supposed to be.
This place where I'm living is just
too confining for me.
I want to move like a cloud in the sky
floating endlessly.
I want suspension in mid-air
whenever I want to see
every star that's been born
and every sun-lit morn,
every planet that's out in space
and every friendly place,
every thought-form that comes into being
and watch them all agreeing.
Is that too much for me to ask?
or is it where I've been?
My body here seems too confining,
this body that I'm in.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Lonely Place...
It's a lonely place here,
Cold and dark,
fake smile, fake laughs,
Shedding more tears then I ever have,
It hurts and no amount of lies,
can cover up the shame,
It's a lonely place here,
I hate it I cry out,
but no one sees no one cares, no one hears,
deep inside theres walls of flesh,
burried under hurt,
Its a lonely place here in my heart.
poem by Destinee Gail
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Down In The Dark
down in the dark where i live
i can feel the earth squirm squishingly around me
down in the dark where i live
there is slime on the stone floor and it's cold between my toes
in my slide, slide slide down into this place
down in the dark where i live
no one cares if there is mud on my face
down in the dark where i live
i am all alone, i like that way, it's peaceful
just me and my old bones
down in the dark where i live
there is much to eat, i hope you like slugs and snails and snakes
my spice rack is complete
i have a fire and i have a pot
and if you want to curl right up
we'll eat and snuggle by my fire
down in the dark where i live
it's safe and cozy
you are always welcome here
poem by Bonnie Cote
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So Far Gone
How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another number.
Statistics.
Becoming a mystic.
Watch the hands closely.
Its a disappearing trick.
Shes there, shes gone.
How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another picture.
Memories.
The burning disease.
Watch the horror movies.
Its more flashbacks.
Its there, its gone.
How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another measure.
Despair.
So f*cking scared.
Watch the fire ignite.
Its a candle light vigil.
Were there were gone.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another treasure.
Desire.
What you want.
Watch it fade away.
Its more fools gold.
Its there, its gone.
Always on the run.
Just another label.
Faking.
What are you.
Watch the dirt fly.
Its sticks and stones.
Your there, your gone.
How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another vagrant.
Living.
A need to survive.
Watch her eyes now.
Its another color again.
Shes there, shes gone.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
Once more.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
How its done.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Stripping to the Bones
Now me, now not,
a thought is always there.
My genes navigate on collapsing walls,
words, dark mind, broken dreams.
But thought is always there.
I hold on firmly to sounds,
voices, tongues,
the thought is always there.
Brain goes into a nameless friction,
of aimless voyage
I rediscover the myth and abandon the zone of thoughts.
Distance becomes a wailing music.
Sitting between the flesh and bones
I recognise the relic of a window.
Let us dropp the years,
become timeless, empty and hollow.
Egocentric wind violates the lungs.
We cannot sing in praise of earth.
I walk through the body,
stripping to the bones, to find the seeds.
I refuse to pluck the flowers.
poem by Satish Verma
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Use And Abuse....
when you are hopeless
when misery is inside all your bones
you become so beautiful and humanity looks
at you with so much pleasure
so much lust
and you give in
you give what is no longer pleasurable to you
for all of them
you are exhausted and dying
they do not mind
they take pleasure in every chunk of your flesh
your eyes dilate
when you die in the middle of that moment
they call it your misfortune
they have nothing to do with you or
your pain
when all your bones fall to the ground
when your lips crack like dried leaf
they leave you
they will hate the place
and look for another.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sacrifice
ignite me
ignite me with just a spark
from you in the dark
and i will be this fire that burns
that lights from day till night
to warm your body
and guide you in your way
and when i am ashed
tell them if they ask
i have done my duty
i had it my little own way
from the spark of your love that never dies
i have become the constant sacrifice
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Lonely God!
a lonely God...
from dust made flesh,
and filled it with
the haunting spirit of wind.
eyes that open
both in and out,
a fire kindled of bones!
who are we
to run blindly
into the sun?
to hide from the rain
that weeps for us?
idols made of fear,
the soul chokes the spirit.
we stand on the porch,
afraid to open the door!
dust and flesh,
wind and fire...
bones that cry out,
tears lost in the rain.
a lonely God...
walks away!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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