Tag Archive | death
Round and Round #children #poetry #death
Originally posted on penned in moon dust:
In the wink of an eye a splash in the pond a squint at the sky and you’ll be gone * streaming tail of a kite your first goodnight kiss college degree you might so many things you’ll miss * up down your merry-go round ride look not…
Waking up and Recognizing
Originally posted on ronovanwrites:
Waking up and Recognizing by: Lost Mind What things are on this Lost Mind of mine People focusing on a cinema and a dime This world has gone total whack crazy While lives die greater in numbers than F-bombs in a picture by Scorsese ? We’re petty and selfish in ways…
Final Goodbye #haiku #photography #memorial
Originally posted on penned in moon dust:
Today ashes spread upon the sea, your spirit set free Carpe Diem’s prompt is Departed Soul. Today was the memorial service for the man who modeled goodness to me as a child. He will always be father in my heart.
Existential Nihilism and the Dead Dog Blues
Originally posted on Christa Wojciechowski:
RIP Roscoe Wojciechowski ? I’ve been avoiding this article for a long time, which is a sure sign that it must be written. As individuals, we often hide from the truth, especially about ourselves. Our souls’ innocence and hope slowly deteriorate inside our soft bodies while we occupy our short…
In each chest a clock, its spring wearing
Originally posted on C h a z z W r i t e s . c o m:
Tonight I thanked a friend and said goodbye for the last time. It is a grim ritual, this business of the last goodbye. My friend didn’t look like the man I knew. He appeared as a sleeping wax figure,…
Red boat
Originally posted on Jane Dougherty Writes:
My green pen draws a red boat With a cargo of words in its hold A cargo of shoots and delving roots A floating forest of stories painted All the colours of morning. Red boat on a green sea With blue wind in its sails. On the rim of…
Short sharp sorrow
Originally posted on Jane Dougherty Writes:
Trying to get the sadness out. A haiku, a short poem, and a tanka. Grief pangs twist the heart Wring tears from vague sentiment A sea to drown in. A child is dead And another and another All someone’s children All my children So many parents’ tears Pour A…
Last manuscript of an exiled Russian poet
Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:
Pick up a yardstick to measure your life against anyone else’s, and you’ve just picked up a stick and beaten up your own soul. ~ Ann Voskamp And I cannot inherit back my childhood from a photo-album what I was, what i am is transferred in silence and most probably…
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 