Category Poems about Life, Living and Death
Even if I’ve sagged and wrinkled
would you find me beautiful when I laughed?
Could you possibly recognize what will
be me in so many years, or will you pass me
by? Even if I do not recognize myself?
Will we ever even speak again, like we used
to, like good friends should? Or will a nose be
turned and no words spoken as we walk back out
of each other’s lives. I sometimes wish I knew,
so that the time I waste wondering is not in vain.
I wondered if I was spared or
punished by it.
See three smiling cousins,
around age eight,
spattered with mud, after
an afternoon spent playing
in the sodden, low spot in the yard
born into this world,
Pure innocence,
wrapped up inside of him.
No knowledge of how this life works,
Unaware of death,
awaiting his soul to keep.
A hysterical mother,
a bewildered father,
Begging for answers
about the unexpected leave.
at the Capitol Drive-In.
The VW’s black vinyl
stuck to the backs of my thighs.
I sat in the passenger seat,
a habit from when I was little.
There was a smell
I hoped my parents wouldn’t notice.
I was allowed to hang
the heavy speaker on
my half rolled down window,
to control the volume.
We brought our own cans
of pop in a cooler stashed
on the floorboards.
Slunk low during the trailers,
Dad reached through
the bucket seats into
a bowl of popcorn from home
balanced on the parking brake.
I live another day,
adding to the potential years,
of a life well lived,
so they say.
In the shadow of yesterday?
Will they say this upon the grave?
Yet, that which was lost yesterday,
can be regained tomorrow,
again, so they say.
Do I understand?
Where is today?
The choice lays within,
the question mark of a new day.
is the first day of the rest of your life
Tomorrow is an adventure in the making
Yesterday is a memory of
a moment we cannot return to
Even if we wanted
What’s done is done
All we can do is learn to accept it and
move forward graciously
Time waits for no man
And no man achieves by waiting
but not the same lungs
hold the same blood
but speak different tongues
we cry the same tears
and wash the same pains
but we are not one
and yet here we remain.
and I want to live.
I want a break
and I want a fix.
I want to feel
and I want to numb.
I want to hide
and I want to run.
It’s moving day
All my possessions in boxes
Memories due for collection, when that big lorry finally comes
I’ve left behind the carpet and the wallpaper and stuff like that
And I’ll be sure to leave next doors cat
She used to love to wander in at breakfast, at the smell of bacon
I’ve taken down the posters of 1 Direction
1 Bloody Dimension if you ask me
But little Jessica swears by ’em, and as long as she’s happy
Oh and I’ve left you a little something in the fridge
Another year’s at end,
The passing of the leaves all mark
The absence of a friend.
The sky is crisp and clear and blue,
His breath is on the air,
He silently walks through the street
With sunlight in his hair.
His eyes are cast down at his feet,
He hurries to get home,
Afraid to stop beside the park
With the blackened dome.
