Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2016 Laurent
Valsa George
When Death comes knocking at the door
And as the curtain finally falls
My voice will be stilled
My heart, now ticking off like a clock
Will ever be silent
My foot falls shall no more be heard
All my songs will be stifled in the throat
All my crazy thoughts will be frozen
And I shall take leave of all
And the whole lot of petty things I hold dear

But what difference does it make?
The earth will continue to spin as before
The stars will illumine the night sky
Days will follow days in endless succession
Time, chanting the refrains of joy and sorrow,
On wings, shall fly to destinations unknown.

Will there be anyone to grieve my absence?
Will my sons ever miss their Mama?
Will my loved one still hold me close to his heart?

May be for a while
A short little while

But as years glide,
And my tomb lies over grown with weeds
And the engraving on my head stone
Fades out in morbid grime and moss,
When I merge with the dust as dust,
When I lie inert, a rattling heap of bones under the sod
When my spirit still hovers around in vain
With insatiable longing for all your love,

Then give me, my Lord! A ride in your chariot!
Remove from my spirit the languor of endless waiting!
Carry me to Thy *****!
Embalm me with Thy love,
That I shall no more crave for earthly love
And with you in bliss, ever united
Look down evermore content
As the wheels roll down to Eternity!
This is the blatant truth......!! Though painful, each one of us has to accept it and sublimate the pain with thoughts of eternity !
 Aug 2016 Laurent
Traveler
UNSEEMLY
 Aug 2016 Laurent
Traveler
Under here
I disturb the senses of many
My very existence allows such
It is not light I dwell in
But sheer stagnation I call home
The newt’s eye never exposed to colors
The fungus of the darkness
Moist, cool and unseemly
Molds and mildews quite foul
Yet not for the indigenous
I am but a proud mushroom!
TRAVELER TIM
 Aug 2016 Laurent
Sjr1000
Voyager
 Aug 2016 Laurent
Sjr1000
The Voyager has left the solar system
It has taken our consciousness
with it too
A Commodore 64 running the show
How ironic
We're still collecting those tiny bits of data
today.

What does Voyager know?
What has it experienced?
What does forty years in space give you?
Is it beginning to wonder
or
Is it way past that?

While we're going
far far further
than any human object has ever been
Earth no longer visible

(While we slaughter another human life)

Voyager is in deep being
Without borders and no hope of home
traveling forever
an extension of the human mind
heart and soul.
 Aug 2016 Laurent
complexify
solace
 Aug 2016 Laurent
complexify
i'm scared to love someone.
you know, they tend to leave you.
i know because
i tend to leave, too.

and the flux void of future
scares me.
i was once to always be the first
to explore the thrill and excitement of the unknown.
i was once brave, to sail into the darkness ahead.


but i have changed
i'm not that person anymore
i'm more comfortable
in the fading lights of present
and in the cold hands of emptiness.
 Aug 2016 Laurent
brandon nagley
Avaunt, avaunt, I want to be,
Betwixt thy kiss, where
Ocean's roar; as
Studded door's
Open to the
Love I need.

An aye from thou
An aye from me;
I needeth mine
Filipino queen.

Thro the sorrow Jane
I'll be waiting, thro
The morrow; this
Heart will be racing.

Pumping each second,
Awaiting thy touch;
Craving thy face,
O' the yearning
Is much.

Time is so slow
When we art
Many sea's
Away;

But I'll get
To thee
Somehow,
The morrow----------if not the morrow;

I'll try again another day.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane nagley ( agapi mou) dedicated
Avaunt- away.
Aye- yes.
Thou, also thee- means(you).
Mine- my.
Needeth- need.
Thro- means (through )archaic wise.
Morrow- next day, tomorrow.
Betwixt- between.
 Aug 2016 Laurent
ryn
Quell
 Aug 2016 Laurent
ryn
Quell the discontent
that consumes my being.
Relieve the rage
so I could
turn the page
to a whole new beginning.

Alleviate the pain
from seasons lost.
Allow new seedlings
to grow into trees...
So I could
carve fresh grains
onto the scars from yesterday's cost.

Extinguish the fires
that grow ever brazen.
Let the blaze
make way for embers that glow.
So I could
lick my wounds and still
indulge in a little piece of heaven.

Quell the love
that has brought much strife.
Ease my breaths
so the future may seem kind.
So I could
trudge on through this phase of life.
I'm reading poetry at the cremation ghat
amid chanting of God's name
while ferrying and burning the dead.

The noise unsettles me a bit
as sets me thinking of my own death
that by all means seems closer than farther.

Yet I get the relieving feel
reading poems would heal
all the agonies of my flesh
and take me to that spiritual level
where I would take death as
passing into another dimension.

I'm not much of a religious person
but have always felt devoted to my kindred
seeking transcendence through them.

The best thing I'm hoping right now
is when I burn
someone would amid chanting of God's name
read poetry at the burning ghat.
at the burning ghat by the Ganga, 2.15 pm
Next page