#burial poems on Hello Poetry

KateKarl Mar 2018

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

All criticism is welcome! I'm definitely looking to improve.

#sin #ocean #heart #burial #death #regret #transcendentalism

sammy Mar 2018

war

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.

written in 2015

#war #sad #sadness #death #burial #battles #bones #graves #antiwar

Kelly Ortega Feb 2018

Angelus

EXHALING YOU FROM ME HAPPENS WITH PEN
YET EVEN ART CAN NOT RELIEVE LANGUISH
ABANDONING AN ANGEL IN HEAVEN
WILL ONLY LEAVE THE MORTAL IN ANGUISH

I SEARCHED INSIDE HIS SHADOW DAY AND NIGHT
WITH HOPES SMALL TRACES OF YOU MAY BE FOUND
NOTHING COMPARABLE LIVED IN HIS LIGHT
AND ONLY SERVED AS MY BURIAL GROUND

THEY SAY GOODBYES DO NOT APPLY TO ALL
AND ONLY HURT THE ONES THAT LOVE WITH EYES
YOUR WORDS WHICH I ONCE DRANK LIKE ALCOHOL
ARE POEMS I NOW CRAVE TO EXORCISE

I’M LEFT WITH VERSES MEANT TO POISON ME
AND FRAGMENTS OF WHAT I CALLED “DIGNITY”

#sonnet #angel #heaven #love #fallen #burial #ground #art #dignity

Feggyr Citack Jan 2018

Roots

-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.

#burial

kevin hamilton Jan 2018

song for falling dust

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

#death #funeral #burial #freeverse #love #music #singer #ghost

Laura Slaathaug Jan 2018

Burial Shroud

Why is the color of death black?
The color of night
of inside a cave
of your mother’s womb
of behind your eyelids.
The color of no color.
For some, it’s white–
of crumbling columns of ash
of salted soil where nothing grows
of days when the sun shines
too bright to see
when you look out your window and
can’t see your mailbox
when you leave home and
drive through clouds of snow
blowing across the highway
of snow dusting the air from
the backs of semis
of ice buried under snow
and you see the fields and trees,
the world shrouded in white
and wonder if
you’ll be buried here too.

#winter #burial #shroud

Annie Cynthia Nov 2017

World - The Burial Ground

What hath we done?
What time do we live in?
Feeding off horrors and faking laughters

We stead on the land, the land of the dead
The land enriched with their moisture, we harvest our food

We nurture our little ones with apples,
The apple tree grown from the little boy shot in the war

The final will of inheritance brings smile to our hearts
Still, we cry at the old man's funeral

What hath we done to live in this world?
What time do we live in?

This world, a burial ground.

#world #birth #burial #ground #funeral #death #life #horror #truth #lies

AnxiousOcean Oct 2017

Last night

night is when everyone will love you the most
it is when you take a bath and get clothed
they will walk you down your bed
they'll sing you to sleep
cover you with some sheet
will give you hugs like it's the last
and kisses so strong, quite so vast
you might have heard the most precious words
but no, you couldn't, you are asleep on birds
they throw soft things that you barely feel
the rain pours but will not heal

they are thankful that they have you
and they're thankful that they had you

Thinking about death?

#death #sleep #burial

Arlene Corwin Aug 2017

Who Wouldn't Mind Being Remembered?

Who Wouldn’t Mind Being Remembered?

Who wouldn’t mind being remembered?
It’s not the same as wanting fame -
Naiveté’s vanity its other name.

Who wouldn’t mind some impact?
An itch to reach out
Maybe teach, knowing one knows so little –
Naught at all – We are so small.

But art is there,
And impulse wants from within wants out,
Shouts quietly with word
When you yourself have disappeared.

Who Wouldn’t Mind Being Remembered? 8.16.2017
Birth, Death & In Between II;
Arlene Corwin

Think of all the burial & after-death customs.

#think #of #all #the #burial #afterdeath #customs

Willy Shakysphere Jun 2017

Bury Me at Sea

When my time passes
And there’s no breath left in me,
Take my ashes to the oceans
And set my spirit free.
There I can rejoin my friends
There I will not be alone.
There I can make my amends
There I won’t be unknown.

Far too much blood spilled onto this planet
Makes its way to the sea.
The raining of blood by droplet
Rejoining there finally.

Don’t leave me in the cold, cold ground.
No – No imprisoned tomb for me.
Let the waves be my stone bound
An anxious tide, my cemetery.

There I can float on endless waves
A moving monument to see.
And if you leave a tear on my grave
I can float it away with me…

I have never understood the fascination with burials. At some point we need to grow up and realize why burying a person ever started. Think about it. The answer is staring you right between your eyes. Still don't know? What is between your eyes? Urggg. Your nose silly...

#deasth #burial #cremation #tombstone