“death everywhere, not age or ancient, just an infiltrated lack of life”

a puzzling, troubling line in a personal message,
instantly isolated for further review,
needy indeedy for a second medical opinion,
for it’s a description of two,
an actual place and a state of being

a place where death seems more commonplace,
not from agedness or honor,
but from a madness drunk from a special cocktail of
heat, guns and pseudo-rock stars, with beer chasers

imbibed by those who imagine themselves INRL  
in a movie genre of specialized urban cowboys,
subset horror flick,
self-appointed angels

part of a world view
so pervasive that it infiltrates the mental water supply
and modifies the pure children early on

demeaning existence, with a sense, a sendup,
life is unreal, cheap, so taking it-is ok,
justice delivered, for we angels,
are subset,
angels of death

in a country where
seven out of ten believe in angels,
and one in four confident that
the sun revolves around the Earth

look to blame
polluted water
the ever-overheated atmosphere,
bringing typhoon and storm,

I do not know

how be sun and water,
the essences, the originations of all life
today come to the planet days still
clear and warm,
yet can not infiltrate our personal mystery,
respire, re-spark the notion of the spirit,

the simple sanctity of life peculiarly human

To that first strand of Grey....

That pointer to agedness.
Bridge between cradle and grave.
Fine line between ode and dirge.
It is wisdom. It is senility.
Subtle reminder to how on earth, we are briefly gorgeous.
That first strand of grey.

@incognitaio

(any resemblance between averred one laid
to rest and yours truly...purely coincidental
regarding unnamed person liberated
into heavenly glade!)

though innocently youthful looking air
at three score year,
or so the trumpeting "FAKE" mirrored reflection
(animated, sans Alexa) programmed tube lear
and spout, one most familiar Shakespeare
refrain (frequently misinterpreted) wherefore
art thou Romeo, really translates as
“Why did you have to be a Montague?”

no matter living to max,
I did not accrue
hoping to lyft mine uber last dying wish,
no matter body besotted, kissed,
and riddled with ague
spirit fights futile demise submerging
into bone a fied underworld brew,
any bargain exhausted with grim reaper

past hour to argue
lifelessness accorded ritual
traversing along deathly
other mortals traversed, paved,
and hallowed avenue
sudden agedness tolled
danse macabre league
with trumpeting battue

rigor mortis in toto
human flesh turned blue
oddly starved of wrinkles
thee only cherished clue
that perhaps...key expiration
coroner did misconstrue
bah...false alarm let somber retinue
solemnly proceed so poet can continue

pointless against corpse
dead letter diktat to counterargue,
nor against cosmic creator
can one countersue,
or expect miraculous success cue
wing sudden resurrection,
when biological processes
particularly brought to halt by dengue

fever, and rendering void
erroneous, unlikely mistaken
death sentence, hence sigh continue
and marvel quiet eternal repose
avails most pronounced distingue
lying in state (within coffin)
pulling out all shortstops
guaranteeing her/his endue

perhaps casket sealed with
decedent's favorite chiffon fondue
unsure what grim missing fate will ensue,
asper the (soul) surviving,
perhaps reincarnated within
commencement of fescue
as verdant leaves of
wit man ask grass

or if cremated...surely
spiritual embodiment freed thru flue
but no matter,
(je ne sais quois) glue
thee only I French I knew
before bidding dearly departed
may dog bless ye - adieu!