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jennee Oct 2015
Scatter the ashes that have become steady flesh
Before someone collects them to bury the remains in a false cemetery
Scatter them quickly into the flowing rivers and high up in the skies
I am parallel to their world; I am the closest to death

Ligaments and veins that was once compelling
Supreme yet a puppet to garrulous demons
An artistic treasure box of limited oxygen
Fell victim to powerless witnesses that chose to keep their silence

When our bodies collapse and our hearts expire
Revive my breath with visitations and flowers
Although I am now a river and a turbid sky
I am parallel to your world yet I am right here by your side

n.j.
https://perennialink.wordpress.com/2015/10/17/when-our-bodies-collapse-and-our-hearts-expire/
flustered Sep 2015
her hands left graveyards.
over and over, she longed to
hold his heart
but only managed to barely touch
with her fingertips,
just barely within reach
each time

he didn't know what to do with all the headstones
After the burial of
A neighbourhood child
I  stayed in the cemetery
Where lash grasses
And weeds grow wild.
Out of curiosity,
Inscriptions on
Headstones
I began to read.
At  the height of
Her girlhood
To her parents' grief
A lass cut  brief.

I noticed as runs
The adage
“Drinking one's cup
To the last dregs”
Few had passed away
At a full ripe age,
Some had  ceased to be
Of natural cause
While Others
From the challenges
Life is sure to pose.

Reading, I went deep
Into the quiet wood
As far as I could.

A pregnant woman
Hit by a car
A man shot dead
In a bar!

The clamour of
The  silence
Nudged me
While I still have
The license,
Repentant, my sins
I have to confess.

Then I heard from right and left
"Had we been  in your feet
We wouldn't waste a minute!"
"Your sins get rid of it"
"Do it!"
"Wash it!"
"Before God
You have to stand neat !"

"While in full harness
Sins ablution
Is what must come
To your attention!
Don't wait for
Days of retribution!”

Outside, I began my wits
To gather
To make an open breast of
My sins to
My confessing father!
What I felt after staying a bit in a cemetery
Rae Harrison Sep 2015
Back seat of a car, happiness on my face, just coming from the city.
It's daytime; sunny and warm so I've got the window down.
My head partially sticks out as my hair flies all around and I can barely see.
As we pass the cemetery, I do see now because we are coming to a stop sign and the wind comes to a halt.
One woman sits by herself on a stone bench.
She is alone, but she is admiring the nice day, same as anyone else.
She stares at the sun before it gets too bright for her eyes and she looks back down again.
She is far away from me and I wish my vision was good enough to see her better.
She sits peacefully as she stares at the graves, maybe one in particular.
I wish I could see if she was crying or if she was holding it together.
As my car picks up speed, I watch her until my head can't turn to face her anymore.
I think about her for the next minute, wondering if she too thinks this is a beautiful day or if she despises this date in particular.
Different lives are occurring outside of our own that we are unaware of.
I'm unaware of what this woman is going through and she is unaware that she sparked this interest inside my head.
She is still unaware who I am and that she inspired this poem.
**Thank you ma'am. I hope you're doing okay.
This happened a while ago and it still makes me take into consideration that millions of things are happening outside of our own lives. Who's to say alternate universes don't exist when other people's lives are a whole universe on their own? I don't know; Don't quote me on that!
Erin Aug 2013
my dear it's so quiet here without you
and oh my dear is it raining there too?

my dear while you're gone there's nothing here to save
so i think i'll visit the cemetery and name the unmarked graves.
August 15, 2013 /itsjusterin
Akhil Bhadwal May 2014
Resting in peace, here are those
Who have got, no self to loose
A silent aura, enshrouding this cemetery
Retires them, from life' s *****

What is it, that they want to tell us
Are they really left, or present among us
Whatever they will be doing, in their afterlife
Surely they shed their divine blessings, upon us

A layman writes this rhyme, while having a gaze at it
His heart will always be lit, by a light
Of respect, which everyone should follow, for their sakes too
As this is the ending, of every individual bit


|AB|
Written in a a b a rhyme scheme, it is based on a cemetery. The main motivation and inspiration behind this poem is that we should respect cemeteries by keeping them clean and managed, as it is a place for people, where they can eternally rest.
Stone forest of forgotten names
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