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Debbie Lydon May 2022
He became infant prescience,
He had to go so far ahead of me,
A strange and whispering comfort that brings,
One who was one with me in our growing,
Knew (or still knows) the bird that never sings.

Many times I had wondered, when in my loneliness,
If it could be that he still exists somewhere,
Only a question without perpendicular relief,
But perhaps it is possible that he still laughs,
Because he still resides in my question and belief.

I feel my closing drawing closer,
I feel it will be soon that I could meet him in my dreams,
So separate for so long, and our reunion means ceasing,
Our hearts once played their percussion together, and when mine stops we can meet in new grieving.
Andrew M Bell May 2022
Radio news bulletin in the car
the last item read in those mellifluous tones
is about a seven-year-old boy
struck and killed by a car
in a poor suburb of Wellington.

The protocol around the legal and privacy issues
means it’s “no name, no pack drill”,
but he was someone,
someone’s son, grandson
perhaps even great-grandson.
He had probably had siblings,
definitely friends and playmates.

Somewhere in a house with
inadequate winter heating,
where the household income is
constantly under siege
and life never rises above a struggle,
there is a mother and a father
who bear this greatest grief.

 Andrew M. Bell
The poet acknowledges "The Typewriter", the online literary journal in which this poem was first published.
Now I truly grieve
A final thread’s been cut
While my action was bold
Yours was bolder still
Now I truly grieve
I feel Your hand slip from mine
You turn from me
And look on to the future
Now I truly grieve
A single path splits in two
Two souls I thought always together
Now diverge on separate paths
Now I truly grieve
With the fullness of my decision
No longer predator
No longer prey
Now I truly grieve
My shattered heart weeps
But your happiness is imperative
Even though it I will not share
Now I truly grieve
One last kiss speaks volumes
One tight and lingering hug
As we say goodbye.

I love You, Scruffy Lobo and I always will.
Sophie Mar 2022
I just wanted comfort
somewhere to lay my cold
body
before I leave this plane.

She ran so fast up those stairs
He was there at the top
to stop her and
make her wait
for me.

So we could go together
about a dream i had of my dog just before she passed away. i was on a trip and she started getting bad, on the day i got home we had to take her to the vet, she couldnt walk or eat or drink. i know she waited for me to get home and say goodbye
Glenn Currier Jan 2022
I wish my imagination glistened
as it used to

I long for the rush of enthusiasm
with dreamy violins and brassy horns
of Tchaikovsky and Mahler

Where has the music gone
the tingly feeling in my chest
the excitement
now replaced by numbness
and in the midst of silence
shrill electric strains between my ears
It’s much easier not caring
About anything really
I wish I didn’t
I cared too much unfortunately
I’d be more free than I am
More upbeat, more happy
Living is easy with eyes closed
So leave me alone
I’m only sleeping
I’m putting up walls
I prefer to hide away
Cuz I took a risk a few times
Like a fool
All alone on a hill
Where I can see everything
But they don’t see me
No contact
I don’t want to look
Sometimes I want to disappear
Leave people with the memories
Of me in this moment
Or moments past
Go to the wilderness
Free as a bird
But I’ve learned once
It’s the next best thing to be
I wish I never experienced
The best feeling in the world
Wipe my memory of you
A clean slate
Leaving smudges
Take me away sweet song
I’ll cry anyways
I still feel the void
Cold and familiar
And through the absence
Leaving behind a sense
Of something warm and calm
It creates the most pain
Slowly decaying, withering away
Eroding the walls and revealing
My emotions of you

-AJT
starstrike Nov 2021
grief
success
healing
nothing in this world is linear except  t i m e
and even  
t
      i
is relevant
             m
                    e
jdmaraccini Apr 2013
Deep asleep my heart stops beating
I see a chance to break away.
Looking down at myself not breathing,
I feel no sorrow if it ends today.
What’s the point in senseless silence,
in my silence can you hear me pray.
Love like magic is an illusion of science,
as I march into the dark decay.

Fear and darkness in the tears I bleed
as I drift into a permanent sleep.
Like a moth to the flame with burning wings
I fly to the valley of sorrow and grief.
I fall into the mouth of a broken tree
then land on the ledge of a snow-covered leaf.
I heard a voice bellow from below:

Where’s the justice in a land of liars,
a knife is plunged into the innocent soul.
A broken heart bleeds anger and fire
as the pendulum swings, the heart grows cold.


Why am I here this is a terrible mistake,
last thing I remember there was no pain,
I went to sleep but did I wake?
I do remember a porcelain plate,
a porcelain cup, I ate and drank,
was it dinner that night that sealed my fate?
Amatoxin tea with a ricin cake,
what have I done, what did I take?

Sorrow is a shadow over those who are grieving,
begging for a chance to put an end to the pain.
Writhing and thrashing from the venomous stings.
falling in darkness consumed by the flames.
As we suffocate should we fight to keep breathing,
or surrender to sorrow and the dark decay.
JDMaraccini
2013
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