"deathlike" poems
atop
that golden haystack
mounted on an unwieldy bullock cart
you wished we had......
a regret of a million lifetimes!
every time
your plucky smile flashes
in the sacred space between brows,
i see a wish fulfilling acacia tree
nymphalid butterflies flutter in my gut
and rapid clips of lifetimes past
neatly edited,
projected as movie trailers
your deathlike silence
has quietly become my universe,
as i pen in moon-like solitude
memoirs of an unrequited love
© 2019
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
In the secret sepulchre of dreams you rest.
Hidden from the cruel eyes of the world.
Free from worry in this deathlike sleep. Seeking the happiness life denied you.
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
The words come flowing out when the blood is boiling under. That is when vengeance comes to rescue your soul
longing to fulfill our thirst .
I just want to strike him with my rage
and want to literally burn him into ashes just so that I can roll into those, deathlike corporeal ruins
leaving soul frenziedly lust of mine to satiate .
I want to hold some of his powdery residual remains
as the rest
just scatters by ;
staring at my ascendancy.
Till then let another par of anger pile up and
get that load off
with my bare hands ,
bathing in the
pleasant sight of his blood stains .
My vendatta would be eternally be lasting even in afterlife .
After all it is a fight of a soul to get his righteous stand someday and may that be by ,
A
DEATH
OF
THE
OTHER
ONE
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
Closing my eyes
I drift off to sleep
Restless
Unbridled thoughts
Cloud my mind
I walk among
Sakura trees
Thier bases glowing
With kanjis barriers
To ward off evil
But something is off.
The petals are wilted
The grass around is brown
Instead of green and alive
As I make my way among them
I hear the flutter of wings
Not to sure what to expect
I climb one of the trees
At the highest point
I see two figures
One white winged
The other black
They seem to be circling
Around something or someone
I climb down
Venturing forth
Cautiously
Not understanding why
Are they here for me?
Why in my safe haven?
The closer I got
The more I saw
Between the two
Layed a body
Hovering just above the ground
Raven black hair
Hung as a halo
Underneath her cold
Deathlike skin.
She layed there
In a soft white
Satin gown
As if in an eternal slumber.
The two fighters
Commensed the attack
On each other
As I watched
The body began to glow.
A bright white energy
Followed by a black energy
I realized then
They were fighting for her.
I came close to the body
As I looked at her face
I froze
My whole body went cold.
I was looking at myself
What *** going on?
As I looked at the two angels
My eyes widened in horror
What was so special about me?
I tried to wake myself up
I shook my body
As they fought
And the ground beneath me
Shook violently.
I screamed
As the swords clashed
I shielded my body
As the final few blows
Were delivered
As the ground rumbled
Opening my eyes
I look down
My body was still glowing
Only white
Accompanied by a red light
From the chest.
He picked up my body
And cradled it close
As he did
White wings formed
On the back
As she opened her eyes
She smiled at me
As she opened her wings
Embracing me
She whispered something in my ear.
I smiled..
Both took to the sky
As a sunbeam
Shined through the clouds
Showing them the way home.
I understood
Ive awakened
I spread my wings
And fly
Home
Where I belong.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 12:54 AM UTC
Oh, here I am confined to the walls of my sadness!
I am lean and weary,
my heart thin and dreary.
Oh, how I've longt to wander yon mountainous hills again,
this time with thee,
descending the steeps, our bare foots brushing against the heath beneath
blending into the hilly surroundings
under the laughter of the joyful heavens -
o how riveting the bank underneath shall be!
O how delicacy shall reign my frame abruptly -
bequeathing its foreign spirit gladly,
so that I am showered with its frantic idyll
with adversity whose love can never forget!
O how this joy shall conquer any rivers of indignation,
drive their disdained yoke away
along with those conceited tears
of sullenness, hatred, and amorous gluttony!
But unreachable art thou!
O Kozarev, my prince, sole prince in these silent wintry dreams,
how thou appeareth like a gleaming apparition,
soothing my reposes, making whose armours complete,
with smiles can bear all my gloominess away,
whose lovely jests are warmth to my soul, my yearning and choking soul,
in the deathlike bursts of this misty day!
O Kozarev, in today's laborious air I shall think of thee,
thy stately figure, thy youth of ardour!
Thy grin the star to the fading sun;
thy words that calmeth sorrow; and sendth thrills through my bones!
O mumbling lips, o trembling horns!
My little treasure, if only thou could hear my earnest longing
my very earnest desire; sincere yet tempestuous
that I shalt lift my hands around thee
Just how those rocks stand firm on the glaring sea
Cheers in its coldness; praises its bland waviness
Like a small boat unyielding to the melodious storm
when the last harmony is no longer sounding!
O, how I long to share this fondness with thee!
Kozarev, my demure pleasure, my belated fate!
My firing snow, my blazing sun,
the handsomest flower of my being!
My lithe little heart might be of nothing to thee
I am unworthy, yet I yearn for thee so willingly!
Kozarev, amidst the rolls of my dreams I devour thee,
wherein dwells the upmost of our affection
and sits our sheepish little village!
And adjacent to the gentle fireside
upon our wooden squeaking chair
brimmed with love, smeared with laughs
I should rock by thee
sew thee into my very own loveliness
and ****** thy grace
to the faint redness of my lips.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:55 AM UTC
Where would you go,
Stopping I am not,
Go if you want to go,
Remembering me you are not,
As I'm not interested,
Wishing you quicker recovery,
Wherever you'll fall,
Caring I am not,
Just go if you wanna go.
Because lonelier you left me here,
You better need not to come ever,
I have earlier survived alone as well,
You weren't here near my deathlike bed,
There had been both of my parents,
Only expecting me as a robot in return,
And I found you absent when I needed,
Oh this is only the revelation of my life,
Such a fool I expected you to be my wife.
Now I can imagine what I was spared from,
I was spared from the splitter-splatter stuff,
And of course the kitchen's blitter-blatter bluff,
Because I am sure that I can prepare better food,
Much better than your fickle-minded self could,
Lovelier is my hand's company to my big head,
I imagine stuff and fantasize howsoever it feels fit,
And of course, I don't need your help for that,
I just go fap-fap, splitter-splatter & blitter-blatter.
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
It's way to calm, just look around.
it's all gone still, no rhythm found.
but you could say: "all flora came to life"
but something so **** still just can't contain life.
and cities-towns, they've gone constant.
so now all that can ever change's so distant.
Nor it would rain or snow all of a sudden.
so killer-sun is now my deathlike burden.
and the grey people, it's their now turn act.
so i'll only survive by running. that's a fact.
and so i'm tired of being strong,
thus voices offer me free fall.
but i shall not, for none is there to catch, or fly beside, or back to call.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
Morn hath come, and I rushest out of my bed;
I washest my hands, and striketh my fingers wet;
I cleaneth out dust, which keepest falling from 'em stilll;
I greetest lone dew, clouds, and yon usual mornin' shrill;
I washest my face, and ponderest over Thy Grace;
I soaketh my lips, and saith Thy love verses;
Verses of love, my florid comfort and solace;
Best of wonders, justice, and solar miracles;
I slideth hastily into my white gown;
For dawn hath come, and greeted me when alone;
Night hath but been a dream and a tiny song;
With chords unreal, and words t'at were not long;
When winds are gurgling and my fantasy is torn;
I still wantest to think but of Thee alone;
The verses of love t'at hath long been gone;
Leaving me deathlike, and breathless on my own;
My blood is again thirsting for Thy love;
Whose enemy hath been dishonest all t'ese years;
When I boweth to th' floor and looketh again at Thee above;
Within my chaste gown, I recalleth my prudent inward tears;
Tears t'at hath never real faded, nor waned;
Tears t'at hath hitherto kept me all sane;
Thy verses of love made me once more feel loved;
And healed my congested soul t'at was sorely halved;
Within my heart dwelleth but one lump of scars;
But all t'ese years I'th known Thou art ne'er t'at far;
With Thee only, my past regrets might just seemeth fatuous;
My whining heart cometh relieved, and my virtues turneth joyous;
Ah, Thee, Lord of th' Worlds and of nights and days;
Ah, Thee, Whose verses are prettier than what we hear;
Ah, Thee, Whose Light is tenderer than any poems I might say;
Ah, Thee, Who ruleth but alive and always stayeth here;
Ah, Thee, Who engendered earth, hell, and heaven;
Ah, Thee, Who tamest wild souls, and enlightenest the chosen;
Ah, Thee, under Whom enemies canst be our best friends;
Ah, Thee, under Whom misery canst be glad, and hearts are patient;
Ah, Thee, by Whom an infant shall healthily grow;
Ah, Thee, by Whom days shall fade, and be braced for tomorrow;
Ah, Thee, by Whom th' luminous shall win and as ever glow;
Ah, Thee, Who always listeneth and heareth and ceaseth not to know;
I praiseth Thee and Thee only with joy;
I claimeth my blessings and honour to Thy Prophets;
Thy delight is th' sweetest t'is life canst employ;
Thee, by Whom I was created--and by Whose Mercy I am fed.
And I boweth again and again to the floor;
I criest my deepest tears, and cite t'ose anew from th' core;
Thy verses of love t'at were once then thwarted;
But as I ever know, Thou shalt always leave my heart rewarded.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
Think of it as a bad dream...
You're sleeping soundly
on a Greyhound bus
Suddenly you're awakened
by cold water
creeping up your shoes
inching over your ankles
You jump up
only now it's too late
The door of the bus
is locked
from the outside
The windows are stuck and
the glass can't be shattered
no matter how hard you pound
The water is no longer gradual
It is swift, rushing upward
enclosing your body
past your waist
up to your chest
covering your neck
In seconds
there will be no place
left to breathe
just the rapid snakelike swirl
of ***** water
You're left submerged
Your eyes sealed shut
Your hands gnarled
in a deathlike grip...
You're hopelessly caught
in the rising, surging
pull of water
moving out of a river
onto the city streets
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
Deathlike is our love.
Tired, expired, stagnant and numb.
I'm through playing dumb, treated like hired help.
When we met my pulse it fired, now like death it has expired.
We lie in bed side by side like corpses in a morgue,
inanimate, undesired, tired.
I'm sorry if this hurts but love it can expire, lose its fire and it's flame.
I wish that I could say we're both to blame, but you my love you sired elsewhere, and expected me to understand that you were desired by another and now I'm expected to play the role of second mother to a child,
innocent though he is of his father's shared night of tireless passion with another!
And so it fell to me to prepare this fine repast, forget about the past,
look toward the food cupboard and make a dinner of herbs.
A pinch of hemlock, a touch of aconite, a soupçon of strychnine and a
drop of arsenic. All prepared by mine own fair hand, it's bitterness shone in my tears, as you praised my cooking and my fidelity to you, begged my forgiveness and took me to bed.
Now, cold you lie.
Forgiveness I could give, it was the forgetting that did both you and me in. Like Romeo to his Juliet, a moth to a flame, a drop of wolfs bane,
your Belladonna has had her final fling
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
The exhale is a relief
as the heart in my ear
slips subtly away;
back into the emptiness
in the dark.
So again I fill my chest.
And I’d fill it full.
Again and again.
Until then comes
a deathlike sleep.
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 8:21 AM UTC
Pounding,
Throbbing,
Stinging pain.
It keeps punching,
Kicking,
At my brain.
I can't see out of my eye.
Not with this,
This solid grip.
Slowly tightening around it.
My vision is cut off,
My pain unbearable.
No one can help me from this deathlike grasp,
Because Migraine has a hold of me now.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
you are the cut that bleeds the longest
you are the wound that never heals
you are the hickey I desperately cover
and still hurts in a perpetual sting
you are the scratching that turned into a bruise
you are my face all black and blue
you are juliet’s deathlike sleep
you are romeo’s poisoned lips
you are the pain that never ceases
you are the demons in my dreams
you are the blade tearing my skin apart
you are the knife deadly crossing my heart
you are my failing lungs gasping for air
you were desire
you are despair
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
I blow the feathery brown corpse
of a moth gently off the window sill
misting gray rain outside adds to
the pallor of the moment
I think to myself - everything is
dying around me
and my life too ebbing with
each ancient breath
despite this revelation... I know
there is a forever part to us
I sense it in the still, deathlike
suspension of my meditation
my body an empty temple
one pointed cathedral steeples
pyramid to infinity
I kneel on the hassock within
reposing in the splendor of a Presence
undefinable, a hush of love
ushers over me
tears pour from
stained glass eyes
that unmistakable kiss
sustained caress
blessed assurance
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
An aching agonizing anguish
Breathlessly breaks bonds
Coldly constantly cracks
Dread's distant deathlike deeds
Eerily everlastingly endlessly
Float flying frostily
Growing greedy
Hauntingly horrific
Immensely insane
Just joylessly jailed
Killing kindlessness
Lying lovelessly losing life
Missing my misfit mourning mind
Now nowhere near new naturality
Over old objects or obsessions
Priceless piercing pain
Quiet quarrels
Rusting rage restless reaped rationalizations
Silent scary severed soul's sorrowful secrets sink sadly sighing softly
Tasteless tears torn trust
Unknown unloved unforgiving
Veiled vying vacant vengeance
Worse wild wordless wispy white worried winding whispers
Xenomorphic
Yesterdays
Zero zoetic zest
Please comment I love to read other people's interpretations of my work :)
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 3:58 AM UTC
He was busy debauching
when his world
was plunged into pestilence
and his frenzy froze
and he bobbed about
for months on end
like a stiff black corpse
in a tank of formalin.
Then they put him out to thaw
for a short while
and he emerged flailing
from deathlike slumber,
one limb at a time,
quite like a zombie
howling for revenge.
So they dunked him again
and then again
and gagged him
and silenced him
with multiple masks
that masked his own
carefully cultivated mask.
And so now his visage
has mutated.
he scowls, where once
he smiled.
when he speaks,
no voice comes out
except muffled laments
for friends and lovers
uprooted and thrown
into blazing bonfires
without so much
as a waved goodbye.
But his eyes
O my god , his eyes!
How they speak
a new lingo
quite seemingly strange!
is that a glare
or is that a glimmer?
is that anger
or, as i suspect,
a glint of hope?
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 8:18 PM UTC
From the moment I've become independent,
Started to see, ask questions and think.
I only grown thirsty and wishing for
One and only, just one single thing.
The bless of Prometheus and
Legacy of mankind. Liberty.
I seek for it everywhere in this
Life, as she knows the way to infinity.
At first they tried to take our
Minds, prevent us from being unique.
That time they hardly won,
Some of us have reacted to quick.
And they attack us through technology,
Crashing down all we've built on the web.
Now it's all gone, only the memories left.
"What on Earth" I cry out driven mad.
And I fell deathlike sad.
They corrupted the law, guided by fools.
Oh, what a mindless, awful crowd.
They've taken away it all for good.
His story, my voice, our pulse, her sound.
Now it's nowhere to be found.
Now we are quiet, locked up or broken.
But, we will rise up and fight back one day.
We will come like a tsunami, sudden and strong
We shall crush their terror, no more shall we obey.
You hear me, we'll fail no way.
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 5:38 PM UTC
Those silver cans of
government meat, set
on the table with a red
and white checkered
tablecloth.
An old yellow light hung
on a chain illuminating
the can of meat.
It tasted like flavorless
gum.
It seemed like a mish-mash
of byproducts that no one
else wanted.
Mom always tried to make
a casserole out of it, but no
amount of pasta or sauce
would fix that roadkill.
Mom hid the cans in the
trash. Tried to bury it
beneath empty packages
of mushrooms and onion
skins.
I'd dig lightly, and there it
was.
That silver government can.
Shadows for dinner.
A silhouetted pig, cow, or
chicken, made a cameo
on the can.
They reminded me of those
horrid souvenirs from
Disneyland that hung
above the antique *****
As a boy, I'd look up to see
one of my brothers or sisters
likeness splayed out on the
wall in a creepy silhouette of
horror.
Deathlike, dark, and final.
It was like they caught the animal
at the
last stand.
Death and then eaten.
I know that's why I'm
here.
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 1:20 PM UTC