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The Laugh Aftermath

Was tough to master Math,
enough to answer last, rather than rebuffed
for being half a Man. Aftercare reformed through
corporal, master’s lash…no wonder we kept our breath,
even when others didn’t care for tomorrow’s Masters’ wrath.
Ironically, we died to shed the stain of fear from our skin,
which chronically defies the bred brain of the heir, our King.
Now, we’re reborn astonishment where our questions
are quenched by demystified witches and purpose
we can and able…we bow in recourse to the accomplishments
mentioned and drenched in multiplied wishes
to purport Cain and Abel
Maveri©k20200727
You see those people
Far, far below?
We were once just like them
Eating what we grow.

But now we're here
Up in the sky
And they can't wait to see
The place they go when they die.
Read parts 2 and 3 on my stream!
Chandra S Dec 2019
At one.forty-five, anti meridiem
I blink, half-sit-half-lie and squirm
in a cartel of intricate inquiry.

He must be hurting inordinately
to wish me death and calamity.

Who and where is he?
How and why does he?

Simple five-word questions
seeking conclusive resolutions
for well over a millennium.

Frazzled and woefully sapped
from this anarchic, chaotic task
I turn for the promising refuge
of my orderly book-rack.



Over and over again,
I read the masterly treatise
and really try to take it as a guide.



The book has foresight.

It says there is no death

which my friend has wittingly wished me
in his anguished wrath.


Life is eternal, infinite.

Only the spirit changes over
to some other wardrobe
or maybe transitions
to another dimension
purgatory or paradise.



We never really die and likewise
the loved and the not so loved
also survive.



But life often defies explanations
not to mention all expert expositions.

I feel sadly feeble and disillusioned
to see

an orphan having the nose
hard against the grindstone

a spouse lonely and forlorn
fighting it out all alone

a disconsolate father
devastated by the departure
of a youthful son......
or a blooming daughter.

a dashing soldier
who somberly carries the cadaver
....the cold inert clay of a dead comrade

a pining sibling.........
a friend irredeemably lost.........
the poor dead without
and ****** with the ***......
a zealot who lost the plot
or martyrs who bravely fought.....



The book says they are all here
and we still find them nowhere
at least not as companions
in our worldly sojourn.

The author exhorts -
those who are gone still see us
feel us.

And I smile wryly, a little ruefully
at the still living, stranded passengers
in one too many crowded lanes
on this gross, physical plane
devoid of all succor even from a ghost

slippery yet subtle.

If only there was a real life Whoopi †
we all would be as lucky as the demure Demi
and Patrick Swayze would do the reel drill
in real time indubitably.


Alas!!!
celluloid existence is pure imagination
.....just neat fiction.

And the impeccable book.....
though elegant
seems utterly untrue.



I therefore can not take heart
from the prophesied fact
that the dead are not really dead

not ever, or at least not yet....

Yes, they may be right beside
but unless we cross over to the other side
or they someday decide to travel back in time

the living will always be somewhat dead somewhere
and the dead will always be somewhat alive somewhere

accidentally meeting.....
sometimes......

from across the great divide
in a nebulous twilight

but mostly waiting, waiting....
for the wait to end

and to be terminally united
either fully alive
or completely dead.


† Reference made to the 1990 film 'Ghost'. More information at:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost(1990film)
Inspired by a death-wish and some profanities that someone sent for me. I am really sad to imagine the amount of hurt someone must feel so as to pass it on so extravagantly.In any case, it set me thinking about numerous matters.
CarolineSD Sep 2019
Mommy, daddy, you left me to the ragged and violent
Winds of winter.

Do you watch over me in these storms that
Venture on and on and on?
Am I fool to think that there are arms
Within the endless fractals of the sky that might
Reach down?

I can’t feel them
Anymore.
I don’t see you in my dreams
Anymore.

Is there a moment when the spirit turns from the edges of
This life’s shore
And simply
Walks away,
Disintegrating into nothingness and leaving us here below to

Pray

Into a void that doesn’t hear?

The sky is white today like blank paper that might await some
Prophecy or simply drift across the hills into the sea
Where the lonely petrels and the albatross
Skim their wings on the surface and pronounce

There is no message there for me.
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2019
Let
Me
Die


As
An
Art
Genre: Abstract Inspirational
Theme: Immortality
Sammie May 2019
Before you take them away
Why don't you ever ask them
If there are any unfulfilled duties left
Why you never give them a chance
To redeem everything that is good balanced and heft

Before they leave for an eternal journey with you
Why don't you ask them
To keep enough for their to-be-fatherless kids
To not just keep running here and there but calmly sit
To love their wives before the final farewell bids

Is it too much to ask for?
Cause you see after you take them away
Families are broken and so torn
So
Next time
Before you take them away
Please for a while let them stay
Let them stay a little longer
Let them make their families a bit stronger
Why can death not come with a warning?
apollota Mar 2017
Put the feet back on the ground,
the earth has been found a home.
Leave the umbrella alone,
the rain has stopped and the reason is unknown.
Dry the eyes of their tears.
The fears were conquered tonight.
Now, soar through the sky in the light.
The things of secret are within the sights.
-=-
2017-03-18
-=-
Mara W Kayh Sep 2016
A sweet taste lingers
Where your soul seared mine

lips like honey,
I still feel the nectar of love
scarring depths aroused many moons
after death closed them
tightly shut.
  
Warm as the summer sun
I can feel the glow of
your exalted love,
like a sheath of rain
penetrating a dying dessert,
bringing me
hungrily back to life.
Musings on love and lovers
Death
is not
the end

at least
not for
me...
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