what are you going to do when your body's lowered?
alone in the dark with only your past.
blurred vision
drowning in delirium
what are you going to do when your body's ready to decay?
you really thought you were here to stay
what difference to the world have you really made
think again my friend
because it could all change
today actually just might be your day

Suddenly it's there
Where it wasn't
You see the space
Let the black wings reach

You take a photo
It's not good
You try to understand
You fail

Suddenly it's clear
You're the center of attention
It's not a parade or a circumvention
It's a burial and you're present
You're lowered into the ground
And your soul is fleeting
It's not tragic or special
It's your next birthday

A group burial ground
Is much like *******:
A pile of bodies stripped of dignity
But not being in a state to care.

Life’s hustle and bustle has ended,
Now I’ve passed away, deceased,
My new terra firma home,
A guarantee of eternal peace;
Never disturbed by clamour or noise,
I don't even hear a sound,
In this world unknown to the living,
Within the ravenous ground,
No one here is the least impressed
By status, rank or class,
Deep below the skylit realms
Of fresh-green, new-mown grass,
The worms treat everyone the same,
Whether noble born or serf,
As I idle away my leisure hours,
Under neatly replaced turf,
No need ever to work again,
I've had my share of toil,
As my weary bones I rest forever,
Amidst the once feared soil,
I reflect on life's rich journey,
A long winding path, well-trod,
Time for contemplation assured,
Beneath the mounded sod,
This place is now home to me,
I don't think of it as a tomb,
Birth and death entwined as one,
In Mother Nature's womb.

Caterpillars on my bones
Sealed in my skin
Cocoons growing on my ribs
Where heartbeats should have been

Unraveled silk slides down my lung
Look! The moths are free
They dive, wings lost in foamy waves
They settle in the deep

A hole the size of galaxies
Fragments left in me
Mothlings on the ocean floor
Tangled bathymetry

Quiet, strands of sinning
Cling to me, long and thin
But better pieces of myself
Escaped as earth's new skin

I'm buried deep within it
I feel worms on my bones
Cocoon pieces become dust
But my heart: a smooth sea-stone

my bones will settle into the ground
remains of an unnamed turned to dust
but will they even remember
a man whose cause was brave
a man who died in vain

what is left of us now?
forgotten deeds
and desecrated graves.

-on scattering the remains of two persons

I like the whispers of the tree
I saw last night with eyes closed;
one day it will speak to me,
my final understanding host.

We poured the ashes of our parents
into a hole we dug in the rough;
our father dark, our mother white,
nutrition for a tree, bent and tough.

Out in the wild there is no straight,
clean, happy soul; no creature
can survive unless it bows.

It takes a dream to live in freedom,
to atone your crooked past:
unending sleep to get this close.

molten i woke
to your understated
outro song
crowded at the corpse door
with the curtains drawn
and only briefly wishing
phantom pain
on endless vigils
for a swollen soul

sealed the crypt
your moonlit recital ceased
to no applause