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5.6k · Apr 2013
My Embalming Carnival
Curt A Rivard Sr Apr 2013
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages
Step right up; his dying time is now near
all his pain, all his screams, do you want to hear?
Welcome... I bid you welcome...
Welcome to my three ring ****** state of mind
inside my evil twisted thoughts you'll see I'm only a one of a kind.
There is no rush that is greater now than the shaking of a corpse's hand, telling them my name and there not getting off my table till I'm done after their hourglass had ran out of sand.
For all my life I was rocked to sleep in the cradle of a nightmare.
Tested and taunted all along the way I told you all before in my chest my heart does not stay to tell my works are original, better look for the linen paper at your funeral.
For I blended embalming fluid and powder in my dipping pens ink well and every morning I unscrew it's cap and take a deep smell, burning vapors now fill my eyes as they begin to weep rolling down my face you'll be able to tell like black magic voodoo I am under my own sick powerful spell.
Tearing your name out of the book of life I doused you with a bucket full of gasoline and told you to now run faster than the gingerbread man as I'm chasing you with a loaded flair gun. Now you’re the burned page and you can never be found.
It was a rainy night after when I put you under the sinking muddy ground so happy now that your gone my head no longer has to hurt with murdering voices in my skull that pound.
Watch me now as I show you all how it is really done
performing for you all a living embalming nightmare.
Turning up the pressure and setting the dials till a pressure pulsating flow
He can’t escape, my number one son has him tied up with strips from his prison sheet and now there shouting code blue over the intercom cause my arson freak is laughing, as he's making a mummy out of you.
Trapped in your cell he holds the key and now you have nowhere to go.
Watch me now pump his neck with liquid silver mercury
till it seeps out his eye sockets and he now no longer sees. Tickling your sponge like the Egyptians did I'm now breaking the bone and then packing your nose with cotton ***** soaked with super glue. How easy it was to do and how beautiful it felt wanting it to trickel out your ears.
Placing my nose close for the death smell it was there for I had smelt. Rigid rigor slowly setting in I can tell, thank you my old friend for the way you had felt.
Now I have to do a reverse fill because your body is holding no pressure, your veins did not swell, O' my God, it's not looking well.
Brain matters now pouring out your nostrils ever so fast and is streaking down your upper lip.
Why me I can see is on your face the answer is coming soon to you and to all your loved ones I will tell.
Shaking my hands clean and collecting it all in a jar, seven layers thick I love playing with all your skin slip :)
Feelings can’t compare, this is the best, now isn’t this fun?
The party isn’t over yet for I have only just begun.
He as a glock three eighty not only did he dress but he also shot it like an old lady. O' don't worry there's always another day for acting like a rat, how about an attack with a baseball bat?
  When I am done for you all today
I'll prove to you that I am bullet and shatter proof cause,
I’m then going to stuff that little ballerina inside it's very own special music box
Peeking and peering through the caskets keyhole
I can see he’s scratching and tearing at the coffins lid
Believing rumors that you have heard, come on for real, are you a kid?
Whispering to you a sweet death lullaby its ok you now can start to cry.
It’s too bad now I gave you a chance, you can beg, you can plead but I now must dip my pen and write this poem with your blood as your body now begins to bleed.
Tears won’t work no matter how hard you try
this is what you get for believing someone’s lie
Members of the audience I thank you all and you all are very welcome
look at him now just like then it was so funny looking inside and seeing no brain. look he's crying again like a baby full of trauma and getting ready to go insane trust I know, you all will never forget my name!
I must now wash away all the evidence and go fetch for you a first son for I am running madder than the craziest plague in the Bible.
You can use all the ****** lambs’ blood you can find to paint a cross over your doorway but that won't stop my sickness because I cannot stop now for this is too much fun.
Hey what can I say...
But I always do say...
Welcome to the show!

(SirCARSr 4-30-13)
Curt A Rivard Sr Mar 2013
In my pursuit of a higher education
I am now starting to study the process of human decomposition
And how strange we all rot away like road **** and plant vegetation.
I see the word Casper and my memory takes me back to when I was a child
Remembering he was a sad and lonely invisible cartoon character.
I am now reading it is a proven scientific law, that after you pass
And you give up your ghost, your body then becomes
A breeding ground and you are the decaying host.
Trying to hide the evidence you’re now digging a shallow grave
Don’t do that because it takes eight times longer
Thinking about submerging in water? Yes, it’s a little quicker
But if someone did you seriously wrong and unfair
The quickest way to decompose them is,
Just leave them hiding under some brush and in the summer open air
So then the flies, insects and bee's’ can make a home in their hair.
Sir Isaac Newton told the world how gravity should behave
And now a modern man proved it is no longer so
I can see now, Newton is raging hard and deep inside his grave.
I have not a single fear the only thing that scares me is,
I know without any doubt now that I am insanely brave
Trust me I’ll drag your corpse also and hide it in my make shift grave.
I’m out on a night prowl to change Casper’s law
And prove to you all that it was really only just a theory
Reading books about death gives me a thrill,
Better pray and hope I don’t someday become terminally ill
Everything I do stems from my madness and with it,
Premeditated thoughts and also a great conspiracy.
 (SirCARSr. 3-2-2013)
3.7k · Feb 2013
Dr. Jackal and Mentor Hyde
Curt A Rivard Sr Feb 2013
Dear Mentor Hyde:

Upon the morgue room table he looked like he had some Frankenstein fame
Like a two sided ten thousand piece puzzle, we started with his fragile frame
Racing to find the four corners I found three shaped, kinda like the same
Good, now he knows, when were done today we will win this insane game
On a first name basis I want to know them all, and by it their first name
Witnessing weeping children gets me every time I get all sensitive like a dame
It makes me happy to know I’m tucking you in and you’re not going to the flame
Sewing him back together he couldn’t move for he had a case of being lame
When he comes back to life he will forever be our friend and also be very tame
From far off distance places they all will come and from far they all came
Looking to see how we done, I’ll admit it for I have no shame
If anything goes wrong, look to me and I will take the total blame.

Sincerely,



Dr. Jackal

(SirCARSr 2-3-13)
3.1k · Jun 2013
Blessed With Visions
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2013
The smoke signals are rising higher and higher
Spelling out the truth after you had lit the fire
now your spirit soars high above the funeral pyre
And In a matter of split seconds you’ll be living out all your heart’s desire.
Looking for why screams fill the night and how the madness steals the light
Because when you close your eyes your seeing floating smiling skulls and with no death fright
No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you know you have seen them all before
Faces in morgue room when they were gone asking them why did they not put up a fight and decide to go into the light?
Was I marked before and just didn’t know it then? But it’s now seen on my right hand
I’m an aimlessly wondering nomad who can see everything I even see the Promised Land
Standing looking deep inside, holding a black mirror to a silver mirror forever I will walk that pathway
A path I know I can control with the slightest turn of my hands and I can never look behind
When the smoke came billowing out I felt that I now have a new passion for life and that’s now where I want to always stay.
A secret hiding in the jungle rainforest is buried deep away from the sun’s rays, it’s under the dirt
Put negative thoughts aside, your life is not broken and you’re not going to lose your mind
Focus on what you really want and know your only a one of a kind, trust me, believe me, it won’t hurt.
A foul smell is in the air, a pungent taste is on your tongue, snowflakes are forming inside the glass as you chase the holy smoke
Never felt this way ever before, so fast it rushed up apon me I closed my eyes tight but why  can I still see?
Now I know another one of his magic tricks and also how he made the blind once again see.
Prisms of colors in a kaleidoscope,  laser precision lines atop of pyramids  
The truth to what Stonehenge really is, the asteroid belt being formed right before me
Easter Island being nothing more than just the people who were turned to salt for looking back
It gave upon me the gift of prophesy, the answer to Samson’s riddle and it also showed myself being conceived, what more will it show me?
The greatest euphoria I now have felt to date, it’s in my system, it’s in me, its in you, is my brain having  another overload dumping or
am I having a DMT hallucination?
Please someone hurry and please tell me.
(SirCARSr 6-12-13)
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Writing poetry will be a lifetime challenge for me to try and conquer. With Credits in Poetry among other accomplishments I truly respect the gift I have been blessed with. A talent that involves attempts to portray a picture through a sequence of letters in there very special order.
At the tender age of 16 I learned of my first family death, Grandpa Ralph and exactly 1 week later my grandmother Mildred who my mother took in and I was chosen to make sure she got her coffee, breakfast along with her medicine and other meals all day. I had to give up a summer of going swimming and other things that a kid my age wanted to do just to keep here company but I learned something so valuable at the same time and that was, I learned how to crochet, learned about birds, and learned to respect the elderly. To this day I still carry those values even to the point of even walking into a old folks home to just talk to strangers and even if I have to pretend to be their own family member so be it because I would like for someone to do just the same for me even if I didn’t know what was going on.
It was due to a brain tumor that took my grandmother away after Christmas that year and I remember it still ever so well when I woke up to go to work at the family’s bakery and my mom told me what had happened and everything that was to follow. My grandmother was the first of many I had saw lying ever so peaceful. I even gave her a kiss and I could feel that it was a warm one that I gave her.
Death throughout the many years now have taking on a new role. A role that should I believe be more up close and personal. Calling hours I think should be done in the family’s home where the deceased can maybe feel more comfortable being among everything they ever knew and among the ones that they loved and vice versa.
I have always wanted to be remembered centuries to follow my death. It seems the only way to accomplish that is to die either famous or infamous. Like the pope in Rome I to want to be laid out in estate for all to come and pay their respect. Obituaries now on the other hand along with media coverage to me seems, only the important and wealthy get all the coverage. Movies on another note portray a different message that has no comparison to the true facts. Directors, they make you think that it is either something so morbid like Friday the 13th or make you think you have to go out in a blaze of glory like Bonnie and Clyde. Television now has so many programs that entertain people’s most inner fears that you only want it to be more gruesome and gory. Now cartoons, that’s another ball game, children see subliminal messages that, if you die you will come back to life after you’re killed when in true contrast how can that be true.
Arts and literature including paintings, writings and music have a major impact on the subject when it comes to death, The ancient Egyptians’ I think were probably the masters on the subject of embalming. There techniques still to this day can’t be compared to. I am still fascinated to this day on just that. I even wrote Poems speaking of just such procedures and how I’d want it to be done if I had my way with the preserving of myself. With all the music and there sick lyrics your found either wanting to **** or run and hide from the killer.

(CARSr. 4-21-12)
Curt A Rivard Sr Apr 2014
“Death Talk”

A. Language: The use of euphemism or metaphors to communicate a subtler or deeper meaning than those associated with a planner speech. Example, It Was Curtains- Which in one’s mind could mean, after they log the minute and tag your right toe; then then cover your peaceful corpse with clean white linen concealing your body from all the others until only the powerful certain selected one’s can watch your private encore show.

B. Music: Themes of loss and death are heard in all the musical styles. It has been suggested that death imagery rock music helped break the taboo against public mention of death. Music artists also use their talents to send out a message that somehow we all can one way or another understand and relate to.

C. In literature: The meaning of death is often explored as it relates to society as well as the individual in the form of a poem or novel. Jahan Ramazani says, “The poetry of mourning for the dead assumes in the modern period an extraordinary diversity and range, incorporating more anger and skepticism, more conflict and anxiety than ever before”. It is also how I have a safety valve after everything that I take part in. Yes some of my written works are insane but I also have a deep feeling of respect and honor along with dignity when preparing a passed loved one onto there next journey.

2. “Theoretical Perspectives”

A. Structural Functionalism- Society controls individuals through physical and material restraints, but its true power derives from moral authority. Moral authority is experienced as an external force, which takes on a sacred quality because it is experienced as unlike ordinary forces and objects. Religion arises out of ritual. It is in religious rituals that society’s moral power is most clearly felt and where moral and social sentiments’ are strengthened and renewed. All death rituals, irrespective of their substance, operate to sustain common sentiments.

B. Symbolic Interaction- is how people learn in a society to continue to and carry their specific customs and beliefs, through interactions with other members within their society by learning the practice they were taught, grew accustomed and to witness growing up.

C. Social Learning- When it comes to the topic of death along with the feelings of grief and loss, there is no singular way that an individual copes with the emotions that persist. Death is a very difficult topic to deal with, and at best we can really only hope to learn all about it. Understanding it is an undertaking all by itself, and becoming an expert on such a topic is not something that many people can say is an easy topic to talk all about. One learns social learning through demonstrations, verbal instructions and through symbolic witnessing by means of movies, television, internet, literature, and radio through music.

3. “Subcultural differences in Death Customs”

When thinking of some different subcultural differences in death customs the Asian’s African. Hawaiian an Native Indian population come to mind because although in each geographical area they all may look the same, they are actually differ in their customs because there unique tradition. Say where one group may only bury as to where the next group close only by cremation and etc… One could also think that it could be both sides of the coin when you think as to the point of it being either a comforting experience or an anxiety producing event. In my opinion it all depends all upon the individual.

4. “Myself vs. Students (quoted on taking Death and Dying Class)

After reading the students comments from taking the course on Death and Dying, I would have to agree with the consensus that I believe that a greater majority of students would have a total different way of thinking and would seek a greater outlook on their own lives along with having a better appreciation of live in general upon completing such a course.

I also think that taking a course on Death and Dying as possibly a requirement for a consideration on an early discharge from the Correctional System could lead to positive results and crime rates would then drop. Statics prove that within the prison population there are a vast number of inmates who suffer from depression of a loss of some kind that spans all crimes that are committed and is a contributing factor to their actions.

As for me, the new values that could be obtained after taking such a course were already instilled within me for many years and until recently those values have then manifested themselves and then slowly then came into true contrast.

Within the endeavors I am now slowly undertaking pursuing a degree in Mortuary Science and in the process after witnessing all that is truly entailed, I often ponder and think to myself, what is it that I can do different so I don’t meet my time anytime soon, and how can I also have many more memorable moments with my children? Because, all the gifts I have already have received now makes me wonder how many more rewards now wait around the next corner. I feel that the life I now feel I must live one should be able to be able to enjoy a comfortable one that I now dream of and if pursued diligently with a positive outlook one can harness such a life and I truly feel it is now finally, at my fingertips

Thank You for your time reading. I put a lot into this assignment.

(SirCARSr. 4-3-14)
2.2k · Dec 2012
Oil Of Wintergreen Moustache
Curt A Rivard Sr Dec 2012
It was a hot summer day and freshly hatched flies
darkened your massive window bay.
Inside your decaying bloated carcass
millions of larvae are eating your flesh
they are eating you slowly away.
Your room had such a rancid stench
The New London Day gave it away
how long you laid all alone on the floor
four days old it was on your piano bench
out your body bag I saw a single fly take flight
in the embalming room that only leads to a big fight.
Rule is, turn out all the lights and open the door
Because they will then take to the air and bother you no more.
For a perfect viewing you must be purged of your infestation.
Step One, hook your nostril to a rubber hose,
Step Two, turn up the pressure so the water flows,
Step Three, push on your chest to break up there home, I call it their nest,
Step Four, Watch them all swim for their life as they exit out the other side of your nose.
I have a fetish for death I need to touch with my bare hand
slowly combing your hair with my fingers strand by strand.
I take out my Sterling Silver Mirror and then place it upon your frigged lips
and then I have to then put on a plastic frown when I see no BREATH!!!!
Curt A Rivard Sr Jul 2012
Beside the tree of life I sit alone and write
So many pieces of broken headstones
Wedged in the valley of the branches
Each one stolen from the field behind
Placed into the bark in hopes to show that they were kind
Hard to comprehend the fact I am taken on a higher education
Today is day one and the only crime is my age
I am an old dog who still can learn new tricks
Like a red alert or white meteor flares on a dark night
My Friendly Ghost ring tone wale’s out my phone.
I know it’s time to put all personal feelings and thoughts aside
Without any delay I respond
Heading back to the maze again and so soon
No dragging left hand on wall I know my way out this time
Into the chiller once again and there he laid near another
Pushing you out I’m taking you to a better place
And In matter of minutes I will see your face
Out your zippered pouch you emerged
Onto to the table in the preparation room I laid you
After a detailed look over I then prayed for thee
For I know what is I think to come next
I was given vivid words in complete details prior
Numbed with fear I wanted to see more
Laying out all the instruments and many odd shapes they all were
Saw so much before with the others but this time I’m given a blue apron
Step one was to first watch and then I must do just the same
Tan eye cap with thorns go in and grab hold of the velvet underside
So clear the color blue I saw the lost Atlantis water in you
Mouth now opened and rivets with wire are shot into your firm gums
He held your chin up and I twisted it shut
To a perfect gap I took you so thin the entrance was
In earlier times a silver dollars was the rule
And in your mouth it went to pay the ferry man
Breaking the rigor in the arms is next to follow
Scalpel in his right hand and the neck in the left
Feeling around for the perfect spot of execution
He Suddenly then makes a quick and clean cut
Sinking hooks went in he exposed and pulled out your major one
Then came the elevation and he held it with a stainless steel handle
Strings now are cut and perfect lengths yes they were
Under the massive one I reached in with the angled tweezers
Spun threads I pulled and through the opening underneath
Like tying a child’s shoe he did the first loops
Next came a tiny snip with the special scissors
Then after a wiggling push the valve was in its sheath
Now the torquing of the strings to hold them tight like acting as a hose clamp
Same now is done to the second biggest one
A Thick rubber hose now finds its way and attaches itself to the port of entry
After the precise ratio customized to your specks
The proper mix of a liquid concoction and concentration of flesh color rejuvenator
Now join forces together inside the tornado simulator vat
Dials are set and switches are then flicked to power it up and power it on
Spinning like a sky high typhoon the raging torrent in its attempt
To slow down the decomposing process now only scares your soul away
Clinging for dear life was still no match, many clots there were and many I saw
I had my hand in the helping of you so you could be set free
Out you escaped you’re now free and all the rest I washed away
Like magic right before my eyes
Your pale color is now taking on a new tone
To help the proper flow and to stop things that might grow
Dampened sponges now massage your face and arms
When it came to your hands I shook it first and then told you my name
Blended mix is coming to its end what is then next
Knots are released and oozing they were
A quick packing of gauze slows the red sea’s waves
Drying salts and a squirt of super glue then arrest the flow
Hosing all the magenta away jelly suds are then applied
Washing your strands and then your frail brows
In-between my fingers bubbles did appear
Like a new born infant I treated thee
In hopes that someday that’s how they will treat me
Warming the flow to a comfort zone I gave a quick rinse
Foaming growing lather now upon your face
A five bladed razor in his hand he gave you the perfect shave
My hands are now dunked into the soothing cream
On your smooth as a babies bottom grin it is rubbed
That is all for today lets wrap him up and yes I did tuck him in.

(CARSr. 7-10-12)
2.2k · Dec 2012
Anubis My Pet
Curt A Rivard Sr Dec 2012
Anubis the ruler of the underworld carries vast ancient fame
And today, I’m his next opponent in his weighing game.
Lying spine to spine his prep room table was cold,
made out of a lion's carcass it was formed from pure gold.
I’m in his arena and with a sold out crowd, they are all the God’s, its judgments day for me
I know all the rules; I know how to play and what it is that is expected of thee.
He makes his way into the lecture hall standing so rigid and ever so tall
Scale in one hand, his pure gold scepter staff in the other
Helping him walk so he don't fall because he then would have to drop to all fours and then crawl
Hearing his heavy breathing coming all the more closer
We now meet face to face I’m not afraid I am content in his place
Confident he looks to his audience to the left and to the right
To the balcony he then looks next and then to me suddenly with a death fright
For upon my lifeless body he saw a chain bearing charms in the shape of an urn
Fifty molded in sterling, representing all my subject’s I had to embalm while earning my intern
All around my chain they hung forever I carried them like they were my gang.
Cold wet pressing snout I feel it on my neck looking for my major one he can’t find it, what the heck
The Jackals’ ear is now on my chest he’s not given up just yet for he is no one’s pet
When were are done today he will lick my hands wag his tail and be mine forever, I will bet
No pounding sounds of my drum, he takes his scepter to open my mouth
Then sees verses and powerful words writing on my tongue
Able to speak, breath and eat I offer him everything I learned as a treat
Murmuring and shouting from the belly of Ammit they shout in rage
“Weigh his heart and do your part, you done it to all of us and right from the start”
Under duress he had no choice, then came the cutting open of my chest and out the opening he heard a voice
Eyes were amazed and his canine senses were all in disarray because in my body my heart did not stay
Paws went digging in like looking for his buried bone suddenly he had a much different tone
Because the only thing he found in me was a feather and now he’s wishing he had left me alone
Have no fear; I am just the same, I am here to help avenge that’s how my heart turned into a feather
Because I write with passion I write with respect and I write for the ones you had already met
Upon the scale it is weighed and lighter than thou, this can’t be right he now thinks somehow
A riddle is then placed upon me before forever death is on my lips asking my just how?
I answered him and told him that when I write, I write with a feather, I write from the heart
And in my ink well I put a drop of embalming fluid so forever my words would be preserved
For all the one’s I had already served.
No need for a recalibration I won and then I was then welcomed to a grand celebration.
Given eternal passage to my afterlife he quickly asked me for my parting autograph, and in return he gave me his golden scepter staff!

I WILL RETURN!!!!!!

(SirCARSr 12-12-12)
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2012
(Scene 1)

Everything was all in slow motion after getting the call
Preparing myself for what it is I will witness next
Suddenly I find myself slowing my walk to a crawl.
I read it over and over through the graphic text
Precised detailed instructions with vivid accounts
Chapter nineteen was written in words that were perplexed.
In the protective cushion of my mind
A hidden secret that is buried deep starts to come alive
Am I awake or am I am asleep?
So confused for I'm beginning to think,
When I dream is it real and when I'm awake is it a dream?
I now feel something starting to trickle and secrete inside me
In the base of my skull I feel the pain.
A pine cone shaped gland is now convulsing and quivering
It causes me to dream at night and it always showed me the truth
It gave upon me the gift of prophesy
and all the answers to life's many mysteries
also in my transformation it turned me into a clever soothsayer.
Why me, why was I plagued?
I know it will happen for the last time in my life
A pleasant and peaceful journey it will take me
As soon as I give up the fight and race through the dark tunnel heading to the light.
An imaginary horror movie now begins to play
Given me visions of what I will see before the end of the day.
I know where I am going; I know what I am going to pick up
Yes I have a clue on just what I am getting into.
A dog whistles sound I hear the constant ringing in my ears
I always see the vapors around my face
Drifting like smoke in my peripheral sight I see them all dance.
I'm I hearing voices in my head or am I going insane?
In an instant blink I am catapulted into a cold room
Thirty nine bags deep in there frozen slumber they laid
No matching numbers with tags could be found
Through another set of double doors I enter
Exposing another four all sprawled out on silver tables.
My eyes now become fixed on the bizarre hollow sight
Of the one's with the harvest of their spongy matter.
Absorbing all the sights and smells
I now found what I came looking for
In a rush to see what’s in my grab bag
I race now to get him out the door
and to stop stepping on with my new shoes,
All the blood that is upon the floor.

To be continued.......

(SirCARSr. 10-24-12)
2.1k · Nov 2013
The Trumpets of Jericho
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2013
Under his mighty authority, he sent forth a pair of spies
Hidden by a harlot they now became Joshua’s eyes.
Saving her and all that she has for what she hath done
Later when they come to burn down the city
Her and her family will be spared, there the only one.
Assembling a band of seven priest’s in those strange lands
He’s ordering them to encompass and circle the city
While carrying the Ark of Covenant in their holy hands.
Preparations now begin for a  symphony of destruction
it is for all the other inhabitants, due to all the corruption.
Commanded until the appointed time to remain in silence
After that, scream and shout loud with ragging violence.
Marching with the trumpets at their side and on their hips
It’s the seventh day, and now, they must make seven trips.
The walls then came crumbling down,
After they blew through those ram horns with their lips.
Taking there treasures, the spoils of  war...
They took it for the Lord's treasury,
That is who they took it for.

AMEN
(SirCARSr. 11-25-13)
2.1k · May 2012
“Killing the Crab”
Curt A Rivard Sr May 2012
I write words with passion, I write words learned from wisdom
I study the works from the greatest; I even study the stars in the sky
Look to the North West on a dark Southern Autumn‘s night
Hanging side by side with the king of the jungle and holding a *** of honey
A relative to the one in the deserts with stinger in its tail you will see
A Giant that walks on ocean floors with meat that is ever so sweet
Constellations that fill the sky all been given a specific name at an earlier time
Many a being read the wise man tales in the daily papers
They live there day to look to see if there predictions come true
Your visions can only come true if you search without looking
My journey today took me to the second floor I’m in a ward
Doors open exposing many smiles and many, many frowns
Team Poppy’s Ride for one dollar I bought into yes I did
Relay for life fight the silent killer and have fun doing it as well it says
A dozen silk roses pull me near to the table to touch them
Fur lined slippers; ports open on his body, one in his neck
Another in his arm with plunger attached I can see
Flush him clean and pure I pray aloud rid him of his pain
Give it to me I cry as I looked into his eye
Tapping red heels with anxiety she’s called in next
Chairs with wheels fill the room to capacity
All with hoses and green cylinders attached given a fresh breath of life to inhale
Delicatessen of food on a low cart is now delivered from the one with child in the womb
Smile she puts on my face for there’s another life to keep the circle of life going
Journeys not over for they have just begun
Stacks of Danielle Steele books are scattered all about
Comforting the mind, comforting the soul they do
Precious words are better than man’s medicine I believe
Come to me, my written words are stronger then the script you’re looking for
No ringing of the bells here to mark the toll
To the left I see a three leaf clover hanging in the window
On the Next there’s a hanging cross
Waiting is the master, to do your part
He welcomes you and your soul.
CELEBRATE, REMEMBER, AND FIGHT BACK!                                                                                                                                            (CARSr. 5-21-12)
2.0k · Aug 2013
Serial Killer of 06351
Curt A Rivard Sr Aug 2013
Haunting voices now have you forever stuck in a trance
Telling you that today is the day, you can do it, just take a chance.
Uncontrollable impulses and feelings you cannot tame
You don’t know it yet, but when you’re done
You’ll have many to claim and 06351 will never forget your name.
You fought it hard, and all your known life
Today you did it; you took madam ****** as your wife.
An intimate secret your keeping locked deep inside your head
Before the night is over, you’ll be washing off all the blood before you go to bed.
He's now spreading there legs wide and making them scream
As he's stealing there innocence, I bet he whispered in there ears let me in for this is not a dream.
Something’s not settling very well, six more now have been found bringing his count now to eight
With road blocks and check points all around he knows why he can tell.
Acting like nothing has ever happened he’s in his house
Pacing back and forth he’s trying to be, quiet as a mouse.
Buying the paper and watching the nightly news
He’s looking for signals, he’s looking for signs
He wants to know, do the police have any clues.
Injecting himself trying to help mislead the investigator’s at the police station
Now he finds himself, the number one suspect in the investigation.
Adamant at steering them in the wrong direction
If he left it alone he would have got away with it all and with complete perfection.
Six consecutive life sentences he won’t finish he did receive
Cause he has a date with the needle while the families still grieve.
shortly after witnessing his execution and for the day for him to pay for what he had done
One of the victim’s fathers walked into his back yard
And blew is chest apart and wide open with his shotgun.
(SirCARSr 08-07-13)
1.9k · Mar 2015
Hypnotized By Shamrock Eyes
Curt A Rivard Sr Mar 2015
Set me as a seal upon thine heart, for you are mine
Never let me go, grip me tight like a vineyard vine.
I love that pretty rose that your garden did grow
Betwixt those long beautiful thighs of strength
Exposing that sea shell pink jewel, I do know.

Your garden is so unique, it’s a one of a kind
Such parts are so delicate, that the slightest touch
Produces tropical showers that fill my mind.

Flowing from your meadow, and dripping from
Those soft sensitive pink rose petals,
Golden rain drops that taste O’ so sweet.

Thy lips O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb:
Honey and milk are under my tongue:
Causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak,
Every time that they meet.

I love all of your natural beauty,
And I love every lock of your hair
Swaying from a beautiful face, worthy of my stare.

How fair and how pleasant art thou. O love, for delights!
Your calm green eyes in my trance suddenly gave me visions,
Of hypnotic pupil shamrock sights!

I love your seductive soft lips,
One kiss upon them, takes me on so many trips.
My precious 1, your body is a wonderland I cannot resist,
I need for this dream to come true
And if so, I will forever do, everything for you.

You are the Garden of Eden, brought back to life
My only thought now is, I must betroth to have you,
As my wife!

Behold, thou art fair, my love:
Behold, thou art fair; thou hast,

Shamrock Eyes!
1.8k · Dec 2013
Separation Anxiety
Curt A Rivard Sr Dec 2013
The pain gets stronger and stronger
each and every minute you are not near.
Distant haunting screams now fill my ears
as my eyes start searching, there about to tear.
I can never make it without you
and losing you is my only fear.
Vows given to you many years ago
promising, right behind you I will instantly also go.
Never shall we ever be apart
and if so, that is when all the killing will start.
Deepest of all connections we do share
complimenting each other we are the perfect pair.
So weak I am for I give you all my power
I’m writing this poem and it’s all about you
and look you have been only gone for a half an hour.
Please hurry, have fun and come back home to me, OK
because there has never been a day
where we haven’t seen each other every day.
Searching high and low for the fountain of youth
hoping to fulfill the only wish you ever spoke that you did
All because you said,
“Daddy, I wish you were like me,
so we can be together forever".
and then questioned me with,
Why can't you become a little Kid?"

(SirCARSr. 12-5-13)
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2012
Hold hands and march behind me, buckel up this is a new horror,
A living nightmare unlike anything you have ever seen
Looking at your hollowed out corpse over for the very first time
I saw parts Jeffery only wished while committing his crime.
I'm the piper tricking you along the way; I got you in my trap
And there’s now no escape from my funeral pallor.
Quincy, CSI Miami and even Dr. G,
Could have never prepared me with only what they show on TV.
Downed played and minimalized to the max,
Read my works I'll paint for you all the true facts.
First things first I need for you to stop staring at me
With eye caps and a quick squirt of glue I broke the trance
Good, now I can begin the process and start this slow dance.
Like always I shake their hand and tell them my name
This time was different I got my first squeeze back
For on your right forearm was stained in ink
The first two verses of Psalms one hundred and forty four
After I finished reading I had to get back on track
With an instant snip a stitch is then cut apart
Adding another three ***** to your collection
Pulling them apart I go in first reaching for the clear viscera bag
Holding it up I fondled it all around in the bright light
Looking for the brain I felt it and then saw it come into my sight
Laying out all the puzzle pieces I start with the center first.
So smooth and slick the inside walls of your cage
Everywhere else looked like a time bomb burst.
Feeling all about searching for your iliac artery
Once found you’re now connected to the vat
Using sufficient pressure filling your tissues to full capacity
Injecting first your lower extremities I now see the veins swell
After a six point fill you should look like you’re getting well.
From under the flap and at the root of your neck
I reached in your head and into the hollow space
Because it is now time to try and firm up your mortal face.
With a pair of clamps I kinked your spinal cords fountain flow
Massaging your headless face and then the head *****
All the fluid went right where it had to go
After the fill you looked like you had a new mothers glow.
Now the suction of the liquid residue that smelled fowl
Then came the pressing of a paper towel
Very pleasant smell of wintergreen candy in my nose cause the
Shaking of the can of Bex embalming powder was now to follow.
Pressing here, pressing there, trust it was becoming a pest
Trying to tuck the bag with all your innards back into your chest
Putting the sternum back on top proved it was a perfect cut.
Folding down the three ***** to the point of origin
Was like folding a piece of paper into a paper airplane.
Almost at the home stretch we took turns closing you
And with it a perfect baseball stich and with it a coat of sealer.
Trying hard to keep a secret from for your heads crown
There is no way to do it I can't play it down
Holding the pieces of your skull in my hands
Starring where it has to go back now and back together with no glands
Looking just like what is, "Sweeter than honey and stronger than a lion?"
Me and my youngest son solved Samson's riddle in the Bible,
A seven letter word now needs to be added into the book of Judges because
Together we saw the answer written from a vision in the deserts sand.
Pulling down your face and all the way down to your chin
I lost sight of your eyes I only can see their other side
I now see a notch and the groove where this piece has to go
Gluing it in place I gave back to you your forehead
Tucking and packing cotton towels is your makeshift brain now
With a round file I score four half-moons in the thin bone
So the skull clamps can hold it together and hold it in place forever.
Pulling and stretching your face it was sewed together and with no space.
Now that it's complete you’re ready for a military examination
After getting the green light it's time for the fitting of your uniform
in your aurora steel casket you played in there
looking like the sailor on a ******* jack box.
one last trick to go; have to pull fibers out from the bottom
so your weightless head will look and sink naturally into your pillow.
out the back of a coach with plates that say livery
and into the belly of a plane your shipping container was stamped
Special Delivery.....

(CARSr. 10-24-12)
Curt A Rivard Sr Apr 2014
In the beginning of the college class semester we all were asked to read and inter operate:) a poem and at the end of the semester we were asked to re-inter operate:) it and see how all of our thoughts and feelings were changed after taking a class on Death and Dying. The poem is called “The Angel of Death is Always with me” by Morton Marcus. My thoughts did not change and I took over the class with my interpretation because everyone else said it is something like a reaper knocking at your door ready to take you away.

THE ANGEL OF DEATH IS ALWAYS WITH ME

The Angel of Death is always with me
the hard wild flowers of his teeth,
his body like cigar smoke
swaying through a small town jail.

He is the wind that scrapes through our months,
the train wheels grinding over our syllables.
He is the footstep continually pacing through our
chests,
the small wound in the soul,
the meteor puncturing the atmosphere.
And sometimes he is merely a quiet between the start
of an act
and its completion,
a silence so loud
it shakes you like a tree.

It is only then you look up from the wars,
from the kisses,
from the signing of business agreements;
It is only then you observe the dimensions
housed in the air of each day,
each moment;
only then you hear the old caressing the cold rims of
their sleep,
hear the middle-aged women in love with their pillows
weeping into the gray expanse of each dawn,
where young men, dozing in alleys,
envision their loneliness to be a beautiful girl
and do not know they are part of a young girl's dream,
as she does not know that she is a dream in the sleep
of middle-aged women and old men,
and that all are contained in a gray wind
that scrapes through our months.

But soon we forget that the dead sleep in buried
cities,
that our hearts contain them in ripe vaults.
We forget that beautiful women dry into parchment
and ball players collapse into ash;
that geography wrinkles and smoothes
like the expressions on a face,
and that not even children
can pick the white fruit from the night sky.

And how could we laugh while looking at the face
that falls apart like wet tobacco?
How could we wake each morning
to hear the muffled gong beating inside us,
our mouths full of shadows,
our rooms filled with a black dust?

Still,
it is humiliating to be born a bottle:
to be filled with air, emptied, filled again;
to be filled with water, emptied, filled again;
and, finally, to be filled with earth.

And yet I am glad that The Angel of Death is always
with me:
his footsteps quicken my own,
his silence makes me speak,
his wind freshens the weather of my day.
And it is because of him
I no longer think
that with each beat
my heart
is a planet drowning from within
but an ocean filling for the first time.

And This is What I Told the Class….

Adolf ****** and the **** SS come to mind after reading the clue riddled poem, “The Angel of Death is Always with me”. Hiding between the lines I find there are many reference points to the holocaust and feelings of how it might have felt from a prisoner’s point of view.

If my assumptions are valid with this interpretation as far as the relationship of “death to Life” is concerned, one would think that after witnessing all the atrocities that one saw in those concentration camps, one would almost welcome death as soon as possible as a way to escape from their living nightmare and be welcomed back into being a part of the earth so they no longer have to whisper softly, “We are the dead” and pray that they become a victim of an accident of birth.

I normally don’t comment on other people’s works in poetry for the simple fact that I try to jump into their shoes and try to understand just what it is the message they are diligently trying to convey to the reader, and in the doing of so, I feel that I might misunderstand just what it is they are trying to tell the world and in the doing of so I would then not be able to make the ranks of a poet with originality.
(SirCARSr. 4-7-14)
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2014
Upon reading the article I found myself thinking that it was a topic tainting the beautiful art in the process of death. Death is something we all were born to one day or another eventually have to face whether we want to or not. Masking the process with mind altering drugs could possibly rob an individual of having a noble peaceful passing along with possible negative reactions from the surviving family members.

A question that came to mind after reading the assignment was, what was the family’s position in the decision to undertake such a treatment? Because death has a major impact on everyone left in the wake of losing a loved one.

In my current position I have to remain and always be neutral in my thoughts and if I find myself leaning one way or another I have to rebalance myself and never waiver to one side or another. In the Funeral Parlor business there are many religions that come seeking service and again I must encompass all denominations even if it is something I don’t believe in. I was never one to talk about political issues and definitely when the subjects about drugs ever come up I cannot afford to get involved with it.

In my pursuit of a higher education and working on obtaining a degree in the field of Mortuary Science I am beginning to see that my actions and reactions are now being redefined. I am also working on poise and proper composure along with training myself to think before speaking. In the field of Mortuary Science there is no room for mistakes for you only get one chance in every aspect in the business to make a lifelong memory of the situation that family’s face coming in for a service and a positive memory is what they expect.

Being a witness of the result of death on nearly a weekly and sometimes more basis, I have been entrusted and been welcomed into a community that only a select certain extremely  few individuals ever get to be a part of. There are many attributes that Funeral Directors in the field seriously look for in someone. It is imperative to always refrain from loose talk within the Funeral Home and especially in the Preparation Room and not to mention even in the public.

In last stage situations I have seen both sides of the coin and have to only accept not encourage one way or another if one chooses their avenue of departing. I’ve seen them pass away on heavy morphine and other drugs and also others stop all pain meds to go naturally and then the ones who also had no choice in the matter.

In closing, I found this assignment and subject matter extremely valuable to me because it gave me a perfect opportunity to express my true thoughts and beliefs along with practicing proper education in the field of Mortuary Science.

Death and Dying Class Assignment I received an 80 for a grade do to the avoidance of talking about the drug aspect. I feel that everyone in the class should have received a 100 because it was a reaction paper to what we all had to read.

(Sir Curt A. Rivard Sr. 1-24-14)
1.7k · Feb 2013
The Covenant of the Rainbow
Curt A Rivard Sr Feb 2013
Toiled for days, toiled for weeks, toiled for hundreds of years
working his fingers to their bones he’s crafting an ark out of gopher wood.
Noah tried ever so hard to tell and be a teacher
A choosing one from God he spoke as if he was a preacher.

No one heeded to his warning and Noah cried and prayed that they all would.
It’s now getting to late and he’s wishing that they all were godly good.

Getting ready to sail on an ocean full of angel tears
he’s not afraid, he’s content in his ark and he has no fears.
Two by two they came from all the creepeth corners of the earth
He’s so happy that he has his wife and wives for his three sons from birth.

For Forty days and forty nights the angels wept from heaven
And down on earth every living thing’s nostril was begging.
The master didn’t really want to take their breathing air
It had to be done because he had a plan and he did care .

It was a beautiful night when the dove with an olive leaf took to fight
bearing a gift showing Noah he was always right
and dry land isn’t too far from his sight.

After enduring a test of faith and with no despise
he was told and given a promise
and in return for his believing eight souls had rainbows were put in there eyes.

AMEN

(Curt A. Rivard Sr.)

(SirCARSr.2-17-13)
1.7k · Jun 2013
Held In Loving Arms
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2013
The Lord is my Shepherd and now I have not a single need
An infinite given gift given to me for everything that I ever did was a good deed.
So warm the beautiful glow upon my new complexion
As I walked into his crimson fortress I can see all his creations
And they were done to complete perfection.
Following the beams as they all converged into one and another
There showing me the way to my new home
Please mourn and weep no more because I am not alone
In my left hand I hold the Lords hand and in the right is son Jesus.
Walking hand in hand in this heavenly bliss I am again with the ones I did miss
With all the wonderful things that are up here to do,
Always know that I am looking down upon you.
When you see not a cloud in the sky and you feel the rush of wind come upon you
Fear not for it is me wrapping my arms all around you.
Until we can meet once again, rejoice in knowing that I now sit and eat at the Lords table
And at night he rocks me to sleep in his pure white arms
As if I’m his new born baby in his loving cradle.
AMEN
(SirCARSr 10-03-13)
1.7k · May 2012
Music Box Ballerina's
Curt A Rivard Sr May 2012
Like a child with all his crayons, look at his toys and you’ll be amazed.
Like a jealous kid on the playground I wanted your toy.
A bottle to add to my collection but this one is of a special kind
A gravity fed Undertakers bottle this one is called.
Your father left it for you, yes he left it behind
No room for error, No room for mistakes, No scribbling allowed.
With each passing of the brush he makes it look all the more better.
The stark appearance of death he makes it all disappear.
He has a collection of different size music boxes each one plays a different song
Now together we patiently wait to add the next ballerina inside
After having the last Dance together
Hoping now,
we don’t have to wait too long…

(CARSr. 4-18-12)
1.6k · Jun 2012
Music Box Ballerina's
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Like a child with all his crayons, look at his toys and you’ll be amazed.
Like a jealous kid on the playground I wanted your toy.
A bottle to add to my collection but this one is of a special kind
A gravity fed Undertakers bottle this one is called.
Your father left it for you, yes he left it behind.
No room for error, No room for mistakes, No scribbling allowed.
With each passing of the brush he makes it look all the more better.
The stark appearance of death he made it all disappear.
He has a collection of different size music boxes
And each one plays a different song.
Now together we patiently wait to add the next ballerina inside
After having the last Dance together.
Hoping now,
we don’t have to wait too long…

(CARSr. 4-18-12)
1.6k · Nov 2013
All Hands Bury the Dead
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2013
Silently standing in formation as your feet are hanging overboard
A burial at sea is an honor and now it is your much deserved reward.
USS. Ships slowly coming to a halt many nautical miles off the coast
Today is a beautiful day and you’re the decorated remembered host.
As for him, when his ship rolled up upon Saigon's shore
he received many campaign stars for his chest while serving his tour.
Clanging medals as he still now walks all about and right from the start
He told me he was to fast to get caught and in return,
he smiled at me because he never did receive a purple heart.
The stars and stripes are now starting to swirl into one and another
contorting colors now begin to weep while flying at half-mast
Squeezing triggers the firing party’s rifle’s now begin to blast.
As you’re lying there peacefully and in your "Aurora" stainless steel bed
A special scripture is read and prayers are then said.
Tilting the platform so you slide off and fall into the deep ocean
with twenty holes two inch in diameter
and one hundred and fifty pound bags of sand hidden at your feet
when you get to the bottom, Davy Jones, you will then meet
till then you’re heading to the floor traveling there
like always, in slow motion.

(SirCARSr. 11-30-13)
1.5k · Jan 2014
Ctrl-alt-delete
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2014
It is year two thousand and fourteen
Reformatting my brain I’m dripping Dimethyltryptamine
Revelations is now here for I had a vision I had seen.
So many experiences now under my belt
Unexplainable sights overcoming I had seen
Smelling something like moth ***** is all I smelt.
I’m setting the stage, I am setting the scene.
Actions with matching words having ultimate precision
Three times is truly the lucky charm
Traveling to a brave new unseen world
Is this heaven, is this hell
Or am I stuck somewhere in-between?
Stepping outside myself I now watch and see
Confusing images revealing, turning me inside out
Suffocating my mind how is this happening to me?
High pitched frequency dialing in my ears are now ringing
Disconnected words lost why is he now not singing?
Honing on each and every instrument in his band
Everything that is happening to me is because
I had again awaking my pineal gland.
(SirCARSr. 1-8-14)
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
When my time comes, put a hot one in my right hand and its pin in my teeth.
In the covering dirt hide the mines, on the top soil a million and one mole traps.
Faster than a switchblade with its safety off they will get you, you will see.
Plunder my bed and I’ll show you no mercy.
Let me rust in peace, Yes I said RUST!

(CARSr. 4-19-12)
1.5k · Jun 2012
Trapped In The County Morgue
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Putting many miles in the rear view mirror
Off I left working on making my life all the more clearer.
Dragging left hand on the wall again,
This time it’s all the more complex.
In a matter of minutes I’ll be doing toe tag checks.
Fresh cadaver held me up
Out there eyes came and into a sterile cup.
Given visions to the blind
How I wish they were my favorite aunts kind.
Needle through the glass thirty eight degrees Fahrenheit
Inside you all lay and with no light.
The door was pulled losing its vacuum.
Breaking this seal was better than on a bottle of
Crown Royal Cask number sixteen!
A frozen slumber party inside yes I did see.
All but one with my two hands it took to count all of thee.
Capacity of friends allowed inside,  a maximum of only fifteen!
Sudden Blast of cold air turned all my body hair into needles
Like the quills on a porcupine or a cactus in the desert.
Moving the bodies all around,
I’m looking for number one.
I trapped myself in, now look what I done.
Found the man I came looking for,
Now I have to figure out, how to get him to the door.
In a split second I shattered the games all time high score.

(CARSr.5-31-12)
1.5k · Jul 2012
Stuck in Limbo
Curt A Rivard Sr Jul 2012
What is real and what is not
All my life I’ve always had dreams
So profound that I find myself stuck.
I pray at night that I be given visions,
I pray at night that I be given answers to life’s mysteries,
And I also pray at night for the path I must follow
Be laid out for me like a blueprint.
In my dreams I can smell, I can taste
I do mathematical problems and the answers are always correct,
I tell the truth and I even lie.
I dream so much that I’m beginning to think
That when you dream that is real life
And when you’re awake you’re really in a dream.
I had a vision once that Stonehenge isn’t a time piece,
It really was doorways for the twelve apostles from the Bible
To meet up at the appointed time
And then to go be with the maker of it all
I had another one before that the asteroid belt
Was just like the game children play in the dirt
Drawing a circle and then trying to knock each other Out of orbit
What I saw it was like two planets smashing like flicking marbles
And the tremendous impact caused all the debris
To be caught in a gravitational pull between Mars and Jupiter.
My visions if written in an earlier time
Could have saved the one who was burned
At the stake and in return would take us all out of the dark ages.
My latest dream last night which caused me to write this was a vision of,
I was in the upper parking lot at the Canadian French Club in my town
And people were gathering all around in a heavy congregation
Next a station wagon pulled up and two medical examiners got out
With jump suits on and patches on their backs saying just that
As they approached the lakes edge I then knew what time it was
And then suddenly a woman with fishing pants on to keep her legs dry
Was caring a man who was blue, cold and clammy
And looked like a large rubber doll in her arms out of the lake
To the shores edge, I then approached and had to have a touch
As the body was dripping with cold water
The lady than took his right hand and began to
Swing his arm fast in my direction flicking water upon my face
And then she said to me, now you have been baptized.
My favorite dreams are the ones where I pre meditate a plan
And then execute it to perfection.

(CARSr. 6-28-12)
1.5k · Feb 2017
The Flowers Of Evil
Curt A Rivard Sr Feb 2017
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the pollen is blinding, as the stems are dividing.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the vines are protecting, and the thorns are injecting.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the roots are now squealing, for they possess human feeling.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the Genesis 30:16 is no mistake, *** was traded for mandrake.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the magic lies in the blossom, feigning you just like an opossum.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the cloud now has you choking, for them you had to start smoking.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the petals are now closing, around you who's rigor frozen.
The flowers of evil are spreading and spreading,
the nectar just took your last breath, so enjoy the dance of death.

(Curt A. Rivard Sr.)
1.4k · Jul 2012
Cotton Canoe
Curt A Rivard Sr Jul 2012
As I sit in pure delight
At my mentors desk I write.
Haven’t had but a handful of words
Together we shared in the past few weeks.
I been afraid I had rubbed his feathers the wrong way
But today I found out everything is ok
Because he asked me to stay
Looking out from the office and through the hall
I peer out the front double door.
Getting a true sense of what my life
Can become if I stay on the path
And I follow the heavenly one.
Patiently I wait left all alone
Waiting for the lady to make her rounds with the green slips
And to show her face, the one with the butterfly
On the nap of her neck she will bring two slips today.
In this motel today we have two new guests
They slept together in there cold room all weekend long
One zipped shut in a bag, the other wrapped up
In a ***** fitted sheet wearing a hospital gown
How sad it looked as it was stretched over his face and then his feet
Exposing his left hand and his lower legs like being in a cotton canoe
This was the second time I saw two at once
My first guest I got to meet had an odd name
And today there’s another with just the same
On a first name basis I want to know them all
These works are for them when they fall.
How honored I feel sitting in this home
As if it were one of my own
I love the trust for I feel I am a lucky one
I am learning things faster than the speed of light
And I’ll always carry them all long into the night
After the final exam and a node of the head it is check out time.
Tonight I will make myself a cotton canoe

(CARSr. 7-02-12)
1.4k · Jan 2013
A Mourners Mirage
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2013
Let me add a new definition to Bing's Web Dictionary today
let me start it off this way....
Because I saw it all in their faces and I saw it on her burial day.
1. I can feel it coming and many have no clue but by the end of the day
there will be many breaths taken and many minds forever will be blown away.
They all will come to learn the truth in the end, and after your funeral procession.
The private family members only get one chance to make it a lasting impression
scripted actions, looks, and a heavy carrying ****** expression.
This needed to be done no matter how strong there loving depression.
Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor when they saw the truth,
it was a sold out show and there was no ticket you could buy because there is no ticket booth.
Out the chapel, across the street and into the Catholic Church
upon the trucks they placed your casket as if it were on a perch.
Your Mass now comes to an end, I saw it all and now I see a painting right before my eyes
Because if you could see all their eyes as I opened her casket and took out the urn
you would see that, they were all stuck as I carried her through the family crowd
and carried her in my possession,
all you readers should let me rank number one and give me my turn ;)
--------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­-
NOUN
2. optical illusion: an optical illusion of a sheet of water appearing in the desert or on a hot road, caused by light being distorted by alternate layers of hot and cool air
3. something illusory: something that appears to be real but is unreal or merely imagined
[ Early 19th century. < French < mirer "look at" < Latin mirare "wonder at," variant of mirari (see miracle) ]
Thesaurus
NOUN
Synonyms: hallucination, optical illusion, illusion, vision, delusion, fantasy, figment, imagining, phantasm
NOUN
Antonyms: reality

(CARSr. 12-31-12)
1.4k · Oct 2013
Casting Lots
Curt A Rivard Sr Oct 2013
Blessed with children I was asked to be there protector
On a loan and watching my every move
You are looking, for you’re the sole investor.
At a breaking point and thinking all about fleeing
I try and tell myself I can get through this
But why does it seem there’s no end to what I am seeing?
I was wishing and I was wanting, I just wanted it all to stop
Because I was tired of drowning and I wanted to get back to the top.
experiencing torrents of emotions crashing wave upon wave
I can't seem to see any way out and now all I want is to be in a grave.
In this darkness and with no light I'm praying to you please let me win this fight.
You turned my eyes to your words once again
And look there it was, the chapter title all in yellow
Hiding deep within the scriptures that are written
Suddenly right before my eyes I saw the pages turn into a mirror
As the goosebumps all started to rise, I then saw, I was him, I was that fellow.
Starring at myself in the reflection
I then heard a voice telling me to have trust
And throw all my worries over to him
And if I did, I’ll be on my way again to perfection.
Thank you lord for spiting me out back on solid land,
I could have never did it,
Without your loving helping hand.
(SirCARSr 10-18-13)
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2012
(Scene 2, Take 1)

Off their table and into his gurney
Wheeling you out I start you on your next journey.
With a push of a button he unlocked the latch
Slipping you now into the back and through the hatch
Metallic flakes embedded in the darkness
Sporting twenty two inch chrome rims
He earned it, it's his pleasure, and it’s his pride
You were the second to lie in the back and go in his new ride.
Thoughts of what you will look like run through my visions.
I only know your twenty years of age and if you look into my past
And turned back the clock you would see on the top of the page
Where my first son lost his mom only three years older
From the same cause sixteen years before.
Pulling behind to the parlors back door
We slide you out and your wheels landed on the garage floor
Pulling the chain now I lock us all in and with no escape
Through the windows no one can peek, not even through the drape
With a count of three we place you on your next table
Your remains are contained in a white disaster bag
That bears a zipper with your name on the tag.
Ever so slowly pulling it down with eyes closed till the end
I prayed hard with devotion and with pure respect
Once I saw what was inside my screams were muffled by a silent gasp
Eyes were opened to only see I now was just beginning to inspect
Cause I'm now looking hard for something familiar to detect.
Scanning for the cause he made me stop and with it a long pause
Tearing and scaring the ****** flesh of my mind I then felt
Upon the sights, the true power of the reapers claws.
On a new strange quest, I see now, I'm taking a test
Mentor with a grin on his face I can't contest
I don't complain for I watched him get his fill.
Knowing this is the greatest and now to date,
I now only hope when we get done tonight
I'll get an A in the end
On my test.

(To be continued.....)

P.S. Buckle up for Scene 3 Take 1 it's all about sewing him up an putting the pieces back together for casket viewing....

(CARSr. 2012)
1.3k · Jan 2015
Euphoria Established
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2015
Heed these words, write them upon the tablet of your mind for I have returned.

When you finally come to the point in your life and comprehend that the dreams with which you have been bestowed are to be used as a blueprint, you then and only then will win remarkable success in what ever calling that you adopt. You will begin to visualize things with a much greater understanding and you will experience sights stranger than you have ever seen before. You will know that these new visions are all true, for you will see that you have been given the ability to pick out and notice clusters of confirmations and on an imaginary scale. The fear of premonitions and ignoring notable occurrences by dismaying them all off as if they are just figments of your imagination is to be avoided. It is not out of random chance, the thought that things are bound to line up from time to time and for no apparent reason or that evolution had a major impact on us to evolve into begins to recognize pattern recognition, but rather, it is to be construed as if you have been blessed with the gift of foresight and you will notice that you are able to think and speak things into existence. Never again will you live with the fear of the unknown for you will know all. The truth of all things will manifest themselves and be disclosed to you in a vivid clear contrast. There will be many people who will find it extremely difficult to interpret what is being explained to them and in the process they will then start to display that they are trapped within there own gridlocked mind and be confused with just your mere presence. You will find that people who do not understand you will then try to get you to conform to what they see, ignore them. Life is but an enigma, one that is full of complex-ed riddles, when you accept to follow your dreams and with an open objective you will then have the opportunity to harness all its power and in return all the pieces of the puzzle will be spread out for you for your taking. Once you find the first piece, you then will be given the license required to take part of this phenomenon so you can complete life's grander picture found outside the ivory tower. You will know with all certainty that you are not dreaming and that what you are witnessing is not a mirage, that is until, the silver cord be loosed, after that, when death finds its way to sting and the grave can then claim its victory, welcome and accept a Re"quies'cat In Pa'ce.

As always, Welcome to the show!
1.3k · Jun 2012
Awkward Feelings
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Try this one on for size,
Go to the twenty or less register at your local Wal-Mart
With hunger pains growling, its lunch time,
And all you got is a fresh salad and vitamin water in your cart.
Add this one to the list also,
A Safety orange colored truck circling around
Up and down the street
Looking for that next parking lot to tar
Or driveway to seal
That would be his next treat.
Waving hi to me every time they pass me by
I just play it off and wear my ear buds playing my own beat.
I know them both and I know them very well
Only if they knew, please GOD, I hope nobody will ever tell.
They think I just manicure the lawn
But truly, in reality for now, I’m just a pawn.
Carried their family flowers
Put them on easels’ and my O’ my
How they looked like the twin towers.
In front of them
I centered his remains
And then suddenly it hit me like a million trains.
Two prior works I wrote before and they were for him,
They were called,
“Ice Fishing” and “Positive I.D”
Yes, those were the name.
And writing them, believe me they were no game.
Yeah Hello Poetry Poets you all might know now
On whom I am and what I’m learning to do,
But forever, I’ll never even give them a clue.
What would you do?

(CARSr. 6-9-12)
1.3k · Jan 2014
Joshua's Ladder
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2014
Awoken to the sights and sounds
His body is contorting, teeth are grinding
And his feet are running wild.
Watching in pure amazement, his name is Joshua!
He’s my protégé and he’s my youngest child.
Letting him fulfill his dreaming task
When he returned back into his body
Where did you go I then did ask?
Murmuring words faster than I can decipher
He started to tell me it is the end of the world
And we all had to wear a gas mask.
Running zombies over while inside
Plexiglas ***** we're now in the futures past.
Rolling along heading to home base
And if they entered inside
All the alarms will then start to blast.
Fighting a battle together side by side
He said also that we did win.
Words cannot describe nor
Feelings can come close to compare
How it feels to know,
In his dreams he let me in!
(SirCARSr. 1-28-14)
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2014
I thought about this paper for many weeks and just what it was I was going to write about. As hard as I can try, I can’t muster up any feelings in any shape or form. The only fear I now face is, when either my father or my girls mother who are both very close to be giving up the fight here on earth I ask myself will I even cry at their funeral and if I don’t what then will all the other family members then think of me? My only defense I guess, will be, I cried out all my tears when my brother had passed away and how he told me not to call for help as he knew he was dying on a ****** overdose. I still to this day deal with just that and how I wish I didn’t listen to what he had said.

All I remember was, when he got that 1.3M he told me he loved me, I was his dog Dollar and he was my Richie Rich and he’ll take care of me because I took care of him when everybody in the family turned him away until he got his money and that was when they all started to come out of the woodwork. Because I never took that into consideration he knew I was true to him and I had to honor a wish that he had given to me before we cashed the check. We both knew one of us probably would die as a result of it and his wish was to just let him be if things got real ugly.

I remember also how I cried all by myself in the funeral home and sat all alone in the church and that nobody in my family asked me if I was ok or even to tell me that they loved me rather then telling me I was next. I now know that they said all that only because he gave me money and tens of thousands they were.  He told me many times not to give any of the money he gave me because they didn’t take care of him for 5 years in a wheelchair like I had when he was **** *** poor and with nothing.

It is not out of hatred for not possibly being able to cry but rather I think I am now numb to such imagery. In the pursuit of the endeavor I am undertaking I am using the valuable skills I am gaining so maybe one day I will be able to possible give my children a life I feel everyone should enjoy. In the process of my newly gained knowledge in an undertaking that is shrouded in mystery to many, I am witnessing much more than the normal person could even fathom, handle, let alone I feel comprehend.

My funeral will be a private event for certain selected individuals that only my children deem fit to attend. As far as music and readings go, let them sing and speak their hearts out to me. My estate will be supervised and handled and given to my youngest son Joshua J. Rivard. I want to be wearing a custom tailored suit and without the backs cut out of them. I also wish to be placed in a full view casket till the time where I am then transported to a private location to begin the process of turning myself into a mummy.

Truly the sad part of this whole thing is, and the my hair on my forearms and on the back of my neck are tingling on their end's is, I had the true pleasure of embalming, casketing, and being a pole bearer for my elementary school teacher "Math Class with Mr.. D." (remember that poem?) and I had read his own obituary that he wanted printed for all to read in the local paper prior to his own death and here it is, my college class assignment. O' yeah, Yes I did place in his hands a scientific calculator a TI 81 it was that nobody got to see because nobody came to his awake but I filled in for the millions that should have been there for him. It also was a blessing to tell the funeral director to put him in a solid pecan wood coffin that was the most expensive and I got to keep the extra pillow and the vintage ribbon that was also inside. That is how my poem "Casket Pillow" also came to life.

(SirCARSr. 1-17-14)

Death and Dying Class assignment, Professor gave me a 90 for a grade.
Although this isn't a poem it is something I felt I owed to all my readers, Thank you all for reading and the time you spent thinking about what I had written.

Till Later, SirCARSr.....
1.3k · Jun 2012
Ice Fishing
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Tell me or show me once
I will not forget because I’m no dunce.
Saw you show me the day before
What I witnessed would have dropped you to the floor.
Heard it had to be done on another
I wanted to ask my mentor something
but he somehow read my mind,
Before the question, could come aloud.
Grab the gloves, and just relax, those were the facts.
You saw what I did now it’s your turn.
I found the target with my eyes and then with my hands
  And yes, you felt like you had a case of freezer burn.
Scalpel in my right, your ticker in my left
Like an augur in the ice I sliced you a hole
Fingers then went fishing like having a pole.
Wanting a trophy that is my next goal.
Lowering the hooks into you now
I poked and then pulled your skin apart.
Found what I was searching for
Snagged it on a line I got it somehow.
Pulled it up and then out the hole,
Like in a action packed movie,
I picked the red wire to snip first,
Closed my eyes and thank GOD there was no burst.
All day it seemed I was on the prowl.
Now that the day is over,
I can wipe my sweat with a paper towel.

(CARSr 2012)
1.3k · Jun 2012
A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Enter through the double doors and it will hit you
A one of a kind, nothing like you ever smelled before
You will know where you are even if you’re blind.
Plug in air fresheners filling all the outlets through out
With a fragrance of fresh cut nectar filled flowers.
Masking now the true scent of the repulsive chemicals
That fill your body and flush you till you run clear.
Stronger the smell, stronger my fear
The closer I come to the lower room
The deeper I inhale.
Expanding my lungs to capacity and hold as long as I can
Setting up my writing room next to the dead is my plan.
Nickel silver oil lamps eight feet tall
And a matching tear soaked blue velvet prayer alter
Worn out from carrying all the weight from the mourners
Will be my only light and seat as I sit and write.
Thumbing now through a hard cover book
That sat in there for many years
Eyes closed and close to my nose
I fan the pages as fast as I can go.
Polo, Taylor, and Calvin Klein,
They used to be a favorite
Pores now sweat a strange new lovely kind.

(CARSr.6-19-12)
1.3k · Dec 2013
Helter Skelter
Curt A Rivard Sr Dec 2013
Against his will he’s confined in a notorious cell block mansion
Inmate number B-33920 his name, Charles Manson.
Some say he’s a prophet of living disaster
I beg to differ for what I can honestly see,
Never under estimate our power for he is also a vision master.
So charismatic diamonds start to fall off his tongue
There picking them up as his blessed words begin to flow.
Paying for a crime he never did any wrong
The panel was rigged and the prosecutor
Knew which way the final verdict would go.
Living in fear all the members of the jury
If it were random picks I’d be the hold out
Just to see the audience eyes become burning blurry
And to watch the splinters fly in the air
As the gavel comes smashing down in a hurry.
Denying freedom each and every time
The parole board does forever plan.
Under duress they have no choice for they been warned
Secretly hiding behind alias screen names
I predict there also joining his internet fan club clan.
Exploiting him for their own financial gain
The state’s making profits just because of his name
And to me they are the ones, who are savage
Because if the DOC loses custody of their celebrity
They then will lose their stimulus package.
At head count his body may physically be there
But in his mind, he’s walking on warm desert sand
As he pretends he is in Death Valley.
As for me, I’m lurking in the street
And hiding in a back alley.

Helter Skelter, Helter Skelter, Helter Skelter
Let him go, let him go, let him go!

(SirCARSr. 12-6-13)
1.3k · Nov 2013
Black Magic Pincushions
Curt A Rivard Sr Nov 2013
I have this list and every morning I generate a report
they are all my pre paid funeral contracts.
When my need to touch the dead go unfulfilled
I then turn to black magic as a last resort.
Washing my hands with aloes, myrrh and frankincense
I’m now lighting candles and burning sweet smelling incense.
Hidden within a handmade miniature coffin
My voodoo doll does doth hide,
It’s hiding in my desks draw buried deep inside.
Exposing now a needle filled body and face
Telling the story of how many I had cursed and sent into space.
As I am pushing that pin through it's chest and out it’s back
Someone on my list is in front of their family,
Having a massive heart attack.

(SirCARSr. 11-27-13)
1.3k · Jan 2013
Casket Pillow
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2013
A silk and cotton stuffed pillow is now on my bed,
I use it at night to rest my tired and weary head.
How strange it feels lying awake upon it,
Inner laced fingers on my chest, hand on heart,
And then, my all-time favorite…
I fold my arms into the shape of the letter X.
I fantasize I am dead every night and I do it for just a bit,
The only part I do not like is…
Is when I fall asleep in the middle of doing it.
Fluffing it here and fluffing it there,
I try and give it much respect
Rapid eye movement sleeping eyes do detect
Daily nightmare’s approaching and one’s that just don’t care
Forever now on my mattress you will find it there….

(SirCARSr. 1-14-13)
1.3k · Feb 2013
The Wheels on The Hearse
Curt A Rivard Sr Feb 2013
The...
wheels on the hearse go round and round
Round and round, round and round
The...
wheels on the hearse go round and round
All through YOUR town while,
Heading to the cemetery ground.

Now that you all know how the song goes all you POETS,
Lets all sing it together now and wake up the dead
I'll be listening ;)

(SirCARSr (2-9-13)
1.2k · Jun 2012
Green Tea
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Sipping from the goblet, green leafs they are
Infused with a fruit that bares billions of seeds within
Lying stretched out now with feathers covering me all about
Pewter on thy chest, and steam billowing from within
A glance to the footboard tells of a new tale to bring back to life
Like a pouch that’s placed inside I’ve placed two now, O’ how I can’t forget
Submerged in steaming water, submerged in a bed of silk there almost the same
Vision of a string and tag now hangs on my jars side
Bee line strait to my right toe that’s where my eyes go
Like a sick joke it reminded me again of another tag I can’t erase from my mind
Soaking in lining, soaking in a mixture of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen
Ever so carful while pressing the bag to get the remaining flavor
Trying not to rip for fear of a foul taste
Like a pouch that’s placed in its chalice with a soul still attached
Body has been brewing all the same told maybe not to rip that bag
For things might not look so good, no fear here I had to see the face
Eyes were closed and red lines running from the corners of her mouth and her nose
With a blink of my eyes I took a picture as if she had posed.

(CARSr. 5-17-12)
Curt A Rivard Sr Sep 2012
In the presence of the penguins and I’m the Emperor
To the left and too the right today
They laid awake but looked asleep
Peeking at their family and loved ones they always do
For I see it always happen
I turn away so they don’t catch me talking
With my darting eyes and slick body moves
Wondering if they can see the slightest movement I see
In their quiet silent flinching veins
I’m now leading them on the way to their temple of worship
For protection they must now enter
Songs of joy, songs of sorrow, wales of tears
Now shatter all my inner fears
Powerful words took my breath away I wanted to be just like thee
So captivating and he took me to a place I will stand
Looking down in the crowds
My voice will be heard even as high as the clouds
Kneeling down for you I then look to the crucifix
Kissing his face I proceed to push your lifeless body out
Behind me they all followed
Lining up family first then friends
Still witnessing tears as they flow blurry vision blinds the sight
Holding back grieving pain with all their might
In a modern day stage coach
Suddenly you and everyone then approach
Your final place of rest
Now comes the faith and the masters test
Elder with dirt in his hand taken from this sacred land
Tosses it in the wind and upon your molded steel it landed
Standing looking at all the sights
Something grabbed a hold of me I then saw the light
Grab some soil and throw it with all my might
My hand made three on top of thee
Forever it will be for all to see.
(CARSr. 9-04-12)
1.2k · Aug 2013
Souls of The Forgotten
Curt A Rivard Sr Aug 2013
In the morgues basement, I found you hiding
Compassionate feelings overcoming, in your favor they are dividing.
After holding your remains in that tin can
I came up with an idea I devised a master plan.
Body 2 Bones will be my informative speech in my class
They don’t know it yet out your urn, the bag all around, I will pass.
Some will be scared, and many jaws will drop to the floor
But I know, there will be a few that will be begging to see some more.
Thirty eight years in there trapped you did stay
Rubbing the side I then saw you, a genie inside I saw emerged
Out you came and now it’s time to play.
Asking me now to give a breath of fresh air
I opened your bag, I ran my fingers through
With wide opened eyes I did stare.
I kept you ten nights on my maple night stand
I did some digging and I learned, you came from a different land.
Having to now put you back, I’m fighting with all my might
Back into the darkness, darker then the night
You won’t rest, till your family comes to claim
Someday they will come.
till then don’t give up the fight.
(SirCARSr.08-13-13)
1.2k · Jan 2015
A Kiss Goodnight
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2015
I just want to wake you up
and say I love you again
for wanting to know me.

I just want to wake you up
and say I love you again
for wanting to understand me.

I just want to wake you up
and say I love you again
for wanting to love me.

I just want to wake you up
and say I love you again
for chosing me.

But there you sleep
all quiet and beautiful
so I'll just sneak you a kiss goodnight
and show you just how much I do
in the mornings light.
Curt A Rivard Sr Mar 2013
Upon his donkey he’s on his final farewell tour
He knows inside that there all getting one last good look
Spectators are gathered and crowding both sides of his path
Covering the ground there laying palm leaves at his feet
Because he loved the lame and he loved the poor.

My heart was aching and I was desperate for so many answers
It was tucked away for twelve years and collecting dust
I knew right where it always was but thought I was stronger
Please forgive me maker; I’m so sorry for putting it into hiding
Holding it every day now, I read from it so it will never rust.

On this same very day last year, a day I will never forget
I was sitting, I closed my eyes, and I randomly opened it up
Highlighted paragraphs then caught my blurry burning eyes
After I prayed and cried begging to hear no more lies
Inside I saw it all covered in yellow, it is my life saving story.

It was in the book of Judges the story about Samson to be exact
Not being able to answer the riddle, they then went out on the attack
Hiding in clusters under the leaves shaped like feathers
Look to the top of the tree is what the answer is,
My youngest son Joshua said to me.

You drew my sights to show me your wonderful power
Thank you for helping me take a look,
Because in a split second I fell in love
For you gave me Samson’s strength to open up,
My beautiful, five letter book.
AMEN

(SirCARSr. 3-12-13)
1.1k · Jun 2012
Two Unburied Treasures
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Back again like a farewell tour I saw once again
Like a vision from GOD there she laid all the more peaceful
Freshly washed strands of silver hairs of wisdom now full and wavy like a child
All the closer I felt this time, all the more feelings as if I know before
Remembering your face as I saw you across the room
Like a face on the cover of a music magazine
Pulling a ritual out of my pocket I asked with my eyes
Got the response I was looking for in his node
No disrespect is intended just my way of coping
Everyone needs a way to deal, doesn’t matter what side of the tracks you’re from
High school dropout or on the A list in an Ivy League were all the same in the end
You might not see but others will through the procession that follows you
Stopping traffic, being able to run through red lights it’s all ok, doesn’t matter
It’s your day; Warhol says fifteen is all you get not on this day it’s all yours!
Seeing vapors again around the outer edge, shadows are dancing as well
Buds are pounding drums deep with bass
Saw you open up your arms after pushing you as if a child on a sled then pulled like in a wagon
Releasing nitrogen then pulling back the skin on the one closest to your heart off them came
How you must have felt flaunting your two rings of Saturn
And how you must feel now knowing there in the hand of another
I had no say in the matter it comes with the education so in return
I played for you a sweet soft song and prayed by your side all alone.



(CARSr. 5-14-12)
1.1k · Jan 2013
Where Eagles’ Dare to Fly
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2013
Slowly changing the scalpels blade while peering down at your neck
A number four stainless steel handle is now gripped in my claw
Racing thoughts of how it will feel now rush through my mind
Circling around high in the sky, I’m looking hard and hard I inspect.

I hungered for this day and it seemed I waited for it O’ so long
It will surely be different, and I bet it’s only a one of a kind
So clean the cut, it has to be, no mistakes will they ever see
I saw it done many times now, my mentor taught me well
Regurgitated one last time he then nudged me out the nest
It’s now my first time and believe me, he always puts me to the test.

With my hand held up high I swoop down like an eagle on the attack
When calling hours come I’ll prove to you I’ll get an A for my grade
You only get one chance, I can’t afford to fail, and I’m not staying back.

Friends now gather around and the mourners they all weep
As you laid there in your music box…
I heard someone say…
That she looks, peacefully asleep

(SirCARSr. 1-28-13)
1.1k · Jan 2015
Boomerang Envelopes
Curt A Rivard Sr Jan 2015
They were first used by the Aborigines who lived in the outback
Made out of a hard wood, if it is thrown just right it will return, come right back.
When molded out of plastic it then takes on the shape of a playful toy
Being a witness and unto all it's magic, children in amazement are now filled with joy.
As for me, I make mine out of a three by seven inch prison commissary envelope. I throw with all my might- praying that you receive all my beautiful heart felt words that are written, that's all I hope.
Envelopes soaring high and into the heavenly sky I want you to know, no longer will they ever have to take me again away and nor no longer will you ever have to cry.
Thank you so much for filling me with your loving hope,
owe it all to you-because, you threw back to me a love filled boomerang envelope.
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