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Dear ******,
I made this lovely coffin
Lined with beautiful red satin
I crafted it perfectly
Handmade especially for you
I know you didn't ask for it
But neither did I
So what do you say,
Fancy a nap?
revenge sometimes comes in the shape of a coffin
Mitch Prax Jul 26
It's a long way to
utopia so make sure
to bring your coffin

8:37 PM
26/7/20
Poetic T May 16
My mind
a cadaver of
              reflections.
              Decomposing
within a coffin
                        of white..
Itunu Apr 16
Death came in the night,
slinking in the shadows, weaving in and out of darkness
and being stealthy
and he rested on the man's chest.
Death took cover in the blank black of night and breathed out an invisible net and caught,
lives
and took and stole
Death came disguised as sleep and in the vulnerability he snatched away life
and left the part he didn't need in the bed
as a gift, a token
He surrounded existence by his inevitable arms and strangled it, ****** it out.
Death,
he came quietly and like silent destruction,
and scattered the lines of connection,
for the dead, and for the living.

Except but he didn't come just at night.
He came dancing through summer, enveloped in joy and white lilies,
Tap dancing through the mess he created.
Turning souls into memories.

Death followed them to the beach, and spread his cloak in the warm sand, and ran in to the water
after the boy
and pulled him into his arms under the gentle waves
then allowed him to float, lifelessly
like a bouy
He was erratic and unstoppable
Transforming summer days at the beach into unspoken family grief,
celebrated yearly
the day that he swam with the boy.

Death sipped a cool drink and waited, for what to take next.
He sat patiently at the pool, with open arms and a ticket with a name on it.
He was impulsive and careless.

Death sang a song and they danced to it,
each step deadlier than the next
until
they stood at his feet dressed in white covered in permanence.

He followed around with his cart
waiting to pluck the next one
from their line
and to leave behind
distorted and collective grief
set in a bed of white silk
in a casket

Death never slept, but decided which costume to wear.
he had many,
for every occasion.
But on her day,
He dressed as an errand run
disguised as a daily task to the store
he invited his friends;
accident and collision
and told them to wait at the traffic light
and when they saw him,
they ran to meet him in the middle.
And embraced each other,
leaving a mangled ball of assorted metals behind.
with crimson splashes, strewn clothes and full stops
and they laughed
and he carried his 5 tokens
and left behind his signature,
locked the box of their future
then swallowed the key.

And he didn't look back
as he danced beautifully
To everyone we've lost.
the garden and the grave
were the same for a morning
and all i heard was dirt
raining down on the pine copse
in a cavalcade
my ice-cold hands
braced against the door

this time, the ground divided
like a viper’s mouth
and every cracking bone
broke the silence of the shroud
still concealing me

oh, to sleep without dreams
in the vast shadow
of all i leave behind
Serendipity Jan 29
Your insecurities
will rot you inside out.
And when your corpse
comes begging for forgiveness,
I shall be nailing
the last nail to the coffin.
Nikkita Jan 26
In every ray
of sun, I pray
to bask in your glory
to hum my story.
My petty little story...

With every breath
I welcome death
your cold hug
your final tug.
With my petty little body...

Cover my eyes
to see the final sunrise
underneath the mass
that you let pass
above my petty little bed...

Where have I been?
Why have
NOT I been here?

It's a reason,
an answer,
not simple or clear

Pause and stop for a moment
and try to explain
as I drift off into
the expanse of my brain

Sort of been in a lull
Kind of stuck in a rut
No ambition; desire
Don't want to do much
I’ve been lacking consistency;
without consensus
Once driven and disciplined
Vanished; off they went

Some time I’ve chased after
without much success
If by chance I recaptured;
escaped and they left
Once entrenched qualities;
have transformed into bubbles
Their memories -
a dream
As my life turns to rubble

A child I am
chasing frantically after
while further each drifts
out of reach
as they scatter

Ask,
"Where have I been?"
More like,
"Where am I now?"
‘Cause I live in a world
with a hovering shroud

No persistence of rain
More an absence of sun
There's no presence of pain
But is vacant of fun
Putting paper with pen
Situation is clear
Like a therapy session
Pull curtain;
I peer

Psychotherapy works
Hidden things can appear
Driven crazy;
berserk,
like a ship you can't steer

A continuous game,
one that can not be won
Somewhat hard to explain
Like a program that's run

Piece of clothing that's stained
Been there since time begun
And no way to contain
The past can't be undone
Pulling at it you tear
to remove all the faults
but you never get near;
locked away in the vault

Bang away at the door
Combination is lost
Feel despondent,
defeated,
and just at a loss
Where you give up all hope
There’s no way you can win
Sinking down to the bottom
It ends and begins…

-
-
-

Here alone in the darkness,
at first, you’re afraid
and wallow in pity
this “mess” you have made

While confined in a box
It’s a self-given coffin;
recluse who’s closed off
Made a space can’t get lost in

You wither and rot
in this counterfeit grave
Also, time to reflect
on the choices you’ve made

Loneliness not a friend;
Solitude can be one
Introspective -
a teacher
A valuable one

Near impossible to
fix what can not be seen
Not the visible lines
but what’s hidden between
Archaeologist digging
deep down in the dirt
Resurrecting the fossils
of buried down hurt

Everyone has a closet
with skeletons in
They are not all the same
in their size or within
But ignoring and locking away never works
You must get your hands *****
and dig in the dirt

Facing demons or sitting in darkness for most
conjures feelings of horror
like seeing a ghost
Though denial feels warm
like it might be a friend
Just like 'Brute',
it stabs in the back in the end

So, if life’s got you down
then it’s time to get up
I’m not saying it’s easy
Dig down and get tough
It is known that the night’s
darkest right before dawn
In the moment you’re weakest
you’ll soon become strong

Like a pendulum swing
or the changing of seasons
When pushed to extreme
then it just goes to reason
A rebounding force
very soon will attack
And all battle ground lost;
rightfully taken back

When you’ve given up hope;
just about to give in
At the end of your rope
Feel it’s time to say “when”
Meditate into silence;
cut everything out
Hear that voice from inside
with a WARRIOR shout!

If you listen
the universe will direct you
It has knowledge
and one
most important of clues
Like the phase of the moon
or the flow of the tides
there’s a cyclical pattern
all things must abide

When the mountain top’s reached,
one can only go down
You can swim at the beach
or give up
and then drown


Everything ebbs and flows
It’s the nature of all
So remember this lesson
when you’re feeling small

When that final point’s reached,
only one way to go
Now get back on your feet!
With this knowledge
you know
You will be hurt no more
‘cause that time’s "come and gone"
In the darkness no more

Now it’s time for the dawn!
Written: October 11, 2019 (started) & December 31, 2019 (finished)

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Tetrameter Format]

For those who may know me or may otherwise be curious or concerned:
I know I have been a little M.I.A. from here recently. I have been busy (and tired) with daily life duties and responsibilities. Just as this poem points out the cyclical nature of things, the "tide of life" has called me away recently and distracted me elsewhere. I hope to change that very soon. I very much miss reading the wonderful poetry that is displayed on this website daily by so many talented people. I also miss interacting with the HePo community and the numerous friends I have made here. I thank those who have taken the time to read my poetry and possibly, 'liked, 'loved', or commented. I apologize if I haven't specifically acknowledged anyone's comments or gestures. I want to get to each and every one of you (and I intend to) but in the meantime I wanted to give a blanket "thank you" to all of you. I hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and here's looking to a joyful and prosperous '2020!  

=^)
FloydBrandon Dec 2019
A man knelt bedside ailing wife and heard her final words,
“Before I’m in the ground forever, let’s rob a bank together.”

So he built a coffin the night she died,
Made of steel and copper pipes,
Laid her with a gunny sack and pistol made of ice.

He settled her box in the bed of his truck and drove to the nearest branch,
Told the teller, “This is more than a stick up, It’s what you do for love.”

Then he fled through fields to find a sea below a cliff,
And told his sweet accomplice of the awesome thing they did,
As sirens neared and said goodbye to cash and dearest wife,
Slid the coffin off the edge,
and promptly,
and gladly,
ended his life.
MisfitOfSociety Jul 2019
Low
There’s a coffin buried inside of me,
Boxing the bones of a child.
Whispering a temptation to me,
Killing every part of me.
Creeping behind like a shadow,
That no longer belongs to me.
There is something here controlling me,
I am not alone in my own body.

Drop down a ******,
for me to climb into.
Open up my old womb,
And breathe life into the new.
Let me eat your human sacrifice,
So I can gain a new life.
Wash this evil beneath my skin,
So I can start all over again.

I am dying everyday
Slowly slipping away.
Sinking lower than low,
This is my new low.
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