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brrEXIT
by Michael R. Burch

what would u give
to simply not exist—
for a painless exit?
he asked himself, uncertain.

then from behind
the hospital room curtain
a patient screamed—
"my life!"

Originally published by Setu. Keywords/Tags: brexit, death, exit, suicide, euthanasia, quick, painless, hospital, patient, hospice, final, curtain, existence, nonexistence
Aflutter
by Michael R. Burch

"This rainbow is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh."—Yahweh

You are gentle now, and in your failing hour
how like the child you were, you seem again,
and smile as sadly as the girl
                                                    (age ten?)
who held the sparrow with the mangled wing
close to her heart.
                               It marveled at your power
but would not mend.
                                      And so the world renews
old vows it seemed to make: false promises
spring whispers, as if nothing perishes
that does not resurrect to wilder hues
like rainbows’ eerie pacts we apprehend
but cannot fail to keep.
                                         Now in your eyes
I see the end of life that only dies
and does not care for bright, translucent lies.
Are tears so precious? These few, let us spend
together, as before, then lay to rest
these sparrows’ hearts aflutter at each breast.

Published by The Lyric, Poetry Life & Times and The Eclectic Muse

NOTE: This is a poem about a couple committing suicide together. The “eerie pact” refers to a bible verse about the rainbow being a “covenant,” when the only covenant human beings can depend on is the original one that condemned us to suffer and die. That covenant is always kept perfectly. Keywords/Tags: Gentle, heart, flutter, aflutter, death, dying, suicide, euthanasia, pact, tears, hospice, hemlock, arsenic, rest in peace
Khoi Feb 3
Death isn't casting
not a staged performance
it has its own deadline
Inspired by a poet.

Mercy killings?
End of life?
Assisted suicide?
Death?
highly debatable no?
Tommy Randell Dec 2019
She Dog got forgetful, much confused about her meals
When she last had one, how being full feels

So, she tore up cushions, ate furniture and rugs
Nibbled soap from the Bathroom 'til she coughed up suds

She licked things a lot, dribbled a whole lot more
Forgot to bark to go outside and did her business on the floor

So, the house would stink when we got home
And eventually we thought She Dog HAD to go

It was hard, we felt cruel, we thought she was Us
And we knew that she knew cos she wagged extra for Love

*** we felt heartless, guilty as well
But we just couldn't live with her terrible smell

These days we know better, things are more stylish
They've got diapers for dogs who get senile and childish

But back then of course Dog Diapers weren't sold
And though She wasn't doing it on purpose she was really really old

No happy ending, no last minute reprieve
She dog had to be assisted into a last ****-less sleep

I asked the Vet would it hurt as he gave her a last little *****
And he said, " Nah, not with these drugs, Son...
                                           ... 2 shakes, and she won't give a **** !"
She Dog was 21yrs
Jayantee Khare Mar 2018

Now
"The euthanasia"
passive,
fundamental right
to die with dignity,
when no possibility,
is legitimate...

I wonder
If "the unrequited love"
depressive,
sentimental
A freewill
without felicity
was ever illegitimate?


Trying to correlate euthanasia with unrequited love....now euthanasia is legal in india
anotherken Feb 2018
The single sound of a beep has been annoying my ears,
As I stand still on the bed, waiting for my body to move.
The cries and voices of my loved ones haunt me.
I am frozen at the mercy of fate.
I am bound by the limits of my life.
Yet I still hope.
For a final gasp of breath before waking up.
For my family to cry tears of joy.
I want to raise my head in comfort and victory.
But I can't.

End it all.
Let me suffer no more.
Another cry of despair just kills me.
Please.
Save yourself.
End me.

For I can't stand it anymore.
Even the sound of sorrow just hurts me.
All these actions.
Reconsider your decisions to help me, please.

But....
Maybe in these elapses of time, I could recover.
I fear that it will be too soon to die.
My desire to live still lingers.

(Don't let me go.)

But.... what about you?

Pull the plug?
Restart all over?
On the day I will be awake, will you be happy?
Maybe you'll be sad, maybe angry.
In the end, is it worth it?
Save me? Help me?
Even as you may lose everything?

(Let me go.)

But.... what about me?
A short poem in the perspective of a person whose life is in plugs and machines. I truly hope I don't offend someone here.
LPpoetry Feb 2018
Lying in a bed,
But it's not my own,
All I can think about,
Is wanting to go home,
But it's come too far,
It's beyond repair,
And so I tell them,
'Please end my despair,'
I close my eyes,
They pull the plug,
It seems my grave,
Has just been dug,
Away I drift,
Away I fade,
And now to rest,
I can be laid.
saranade Nov 2017
Ten years miserably passed before..."At last!"
Four eyes dizzely cast into blue and brown,
and four, no, six legs on the ground.
Wistfully down a park laid sidewalk, we walked
to meet one another, blissfully.

We walked inside the dried canal, a river of the desert.
It hurts that we go there, no more, to flirt
with the dirt and our companion... infinity.
Is it you with me as I find kin company
in the molecules of divinity?

Repeatedly, I go searching the vicinity and nearby
For anything with similarity that I can call you by.
Any tree, light, shadow or star in the proximity
of where we met that belonged to you and me.
Or a feeling of solidarity that I cannot see.

Son, don't let me now survive ten years expeditiously.
Destructively alive, left with the intangiblity of life
that we left at that decision tree at 5:45.
Repetitiously I continue to apologize,
but apologies won't bring you back to life.
Seeking the sureness of his afterlife.
On thin, white sheets, today, I lay
Each IV drop, brings me dismay
There's something I have longed to say...
You pull the plug and make my day.
© Cyrille Octaviano, 2017
NTR Oct 2017
if i end up a coma patient,
give me a split second cremation
for the fire that burns the brightest
burns the quickest
And charge people tickets
make the event the biggest
bonfire festival and witness
my wonderful photo finish
I might not have been able to live life to its fullest,
but I was never worried about doing things I knew i couldn't.
not for the thin of skin
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