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Francie Lynch Jun 2015
I have a cemetary inside.
No fences.
Bodies are layered
East, west, north, south.
Legs and arms wrap my organs,
Squeezing sideways, lengthways
And diagonally.
Dates are heartstones
Chiselled in my brain.
They arrive unexpectedly,
Some from places I've not visited,
And stay.
It's crowded,
They keep coming.
I've flowers and meditations as well,
And sit quietly amidst the noise
And visit.
SøułSurvivør May 2015
Beautiful tribute
Tended lawns
Snow white crosses
In their throngs
Men sent out
To right the wrongs
Some were knighted
Some were pawns

There are lovely
Spreading trees
Bowing in the
Scented breeze
In the winter
There to freeze
There our nation's
On its knees

There are many
Stones for heads
Punctured by
The flying lead
There are widows
For those wed
The hearts are countless

They, too, are dead.


SoulSurvivor
Memorial Day
(C) 5/25/2015
If the hearts of wives, children,
Mothers, fathers and friends
Were to be counted the earth
Wouldn't contain the dead.

---
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
The ravens survey
The gated community,
Scouring for a meal.
They swoop low,
Caw and crow,
Conversing in melody.
The repast dead
Are safely laid
Beneath their carrion beaks;
I, in grief
Shoo them off
Your bronzed memory:
Then I pause
To recall
The flight ahead of me.
Kyle Powers Apr 2014
my knees are stained
dyed from soil
scratched with thorns
graves of those who went too soon
babies whose cradles became caskets
fathers and mothers who smoked one too many cigarettes
no one thought that little boy’s nightlight would become so literal
/when did life become this/
with chains made of dead flowers
dust covering my eyelashes
these people are no longer able to simply be
and that can’t come from god
the moonlight pierces my skin with its sharp crescent
the stars slicing my pride
i lay down on this grave
allowing god to see the worn vessel
traveled too much
made too many mistakes
mistakes that shouldn’t have happened
mistakes i tell people didn’t happen
malignancy
but im still here
in the ******* cemetery
shoving my hands into the dirt
coating my nails with blood and death
hoping ill eventually find a heartbeat
and when i don’t
i look up to the sky
make a noose out of galactic chains
hoping the interstellar sacrifice will be right all those wronged
because that cant come from god
right?

— The End —