I love to cheat the Reaper
He's always so gloomy
He's always such a creeper

I love to lie to Hell
Burning with brimestone
Such an aweful smell

I love to trick the devil
He even laughs at that
Probely because we're on the same level

I would love to speak to god
But whatever calls him down off his lazy *** must be broken
Or maybe for him, the ground of mortals is to filthy to trod

It is easy to romp and play
In lighthearted levity
When the sun doth shine so merrily
And the mallard flies so free
Yet to laugh when the stygian dark clouds grow
To dance when the gale winds blow
To smile & bow to the Reaper spurned
Is staunch strength well earned
Is God's fuel well burned

The reaper always comes for his dues
I know this to be true,
he stole my heavenly muse!

On my knees I begged him not, yet he refused.
No matter my threats he never withdrew.
The reaper always comes for his dues.

Never once have I been more bemused
when the reapers came through,
he stole my heavenly muse!

I was half asleep, just taking a snooze
then he appeared right in front of my view!
The reaper always comes for his dues.

He looked at me and my muse, like he was trying to choose.
His hands reached out, to grab my muse, then he flew!
He stole my heavenly muse!

Out my window they cruised,
I, with shame, never pursued.
The reaper always comes for his dues.
He stole my heavenly muse!

I don't stalk the night,
I am it.
I am not a predator.
I hunt them.

I do not fear the light,
I blind it.
I am not a monster,
I scare them.

My skeleton is my body
and Su-Fan is my name.
Beware it!

Grat, smat, tack.
my windows are black.
and the raven (that raven)
comes insatiably back
and the windows and caskets
and smallish ash-baskets
(you'd better believe that they know what their task is)
are holding the pieces, the embers, the sound
and hollowing portions we make in the ground
are the sickly embrace;
a dismembering hug
of a small, ****-backed hobo
without heart or a lung.
and his eye-hollows burn
for to end Adam’s race
and so often I wonder
How the fleetest of foot
can’t find the footing
to escape.

have you ever wondered
"what if I died tomorrow"
the earth would still twirl
and seven billion of her people
would never stop to cry.

They didn't even know

that you were alive.

but that's fine.

The poem reaper
-sleek and discreet-
awake after its
long sleep

Post-hibernation:
does one address
the thirst or the
hunger first?

If you think about it...
the "GRIM" Reaper is not such a bad guy.
He greets you in death,
holds your hand gently
and walks you
to your deserved afterlife,
the one you earned for yourself.

For if you have ever walked alone at night
even within the safety of your own home
you know the terror of darkness
and silence, crushing silence.

The Reaper leads your soul through a dark void
a million times as harsh as an abandoned stairwell
or any earthly darkness.
He does not choose which side you go to
Heaven or Hell.
He simply reads your chart
sees the location that you have earned
and escorts you safely there.

We have unfinished business
You, Me, and the Universe.
There is something we
are meant to do together.

Some reason that the reaper
stayed his hand.
Protected us from blade and pills.
Some reason we did not move on
into that great beyond
even though we groped in the darkness
looking for the sweet kiss of death.

The reaper did not want us
because the Universe is not through with us yet.
We have something to attend to,
something that caused Charon
to refuse us voyage.

We have some grand role left to play
As lovers
As friends
As something.
The reaper does not want us
just yet.

oh* Don’t you Ever be
Afraid hush That is Him

© Matthew Harlovic