"pallbearer" poems
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I've had dreams by day
That brought the nightmares back.
In the daylights exposure it was dark
When the negative light was bright.
In the sea of people
I was the floating remains
Of a Great White's meal.
On the lonely roads of thought
My mind was in gridlock.
Comforting memories were suspended
Over a psychic black hole
By jagged and rusted
Medieval-type surgical tools.
My remaining senses
Were nailed to a cross-section
Of psychically atrophied grey matter
Along neural pathways
Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors.
Left with nothing
But the stinging desire to be freed
From a curse that had to be cured
And the hell of searching for a cure
When I was convinced there wasn’t one.
The powers that be come with force
To quell primal lusts & desires
Forbidding you of them
As they seductively
Dangle them before your eyes
Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled
That you no longer
Care for your world.
This cracked glass remains empty
Even though it is constantly being filled
Then spilled or leaked on the floor
Until you learn to lap it up
Like the lapdog that you have become
For their amusement.
You remain with a love for freedom
But your cage is so large
That you think you are free
Lost in societal fantasy.
You think for a while
That these fantasies are real
Until you come to your senses that aren’t
As you join other fools
In comfort that you're not the only
Broken-back pack-mule.
But in spite of it all
And in the face of them all
Don't let these birds of prey
And powers that be
Deprive you of what they
cannot see
In that hidden corner
Of what is still untouched--
The real you
Uninfected by the world.
Take care of your spiritual affairs.
Don't let the global beast
And your primal hissing forces
Make you be your own pallbearer.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
Long and lithe fingers,
comfort moulded into cones,
is where art kisses geometry
and meets one of its own.
Her hands are to touch
manicured and glazed,
you feel home and lost
a Pharaoh now, and next a waif
The nails, you find and wonder
filed for a student and trimmed.
Not a wisp of colour
bare as a bone, naked and skinned.
Snug in a life song,
a pallbearer of untold griefs,
they are a stark sight
of colourless coral reefs.
On but a blue moon,
they’re a savoury rare,
when hungry eyes feast
on the riotous fair.
Why, one day, I ask thee?
She would smile and wouldn’t tell.
‘Never felt like’,
is her No Comment.
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC
Stranger Pallbearer
Don't let that coffin slip
through your sweaty palms
Faithless preacher
read your psalms and
don't mispronounce his name
No one may have knew him
but he was still somebody
This sad little man
in his unmarked grave
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 12:14 AM UTC
I lifted you as high as I could.
The next day my left arm ached,
And I half-smiled recalling why,
Proof I had done my job.
It came as no real surprise,
To be accused of doing nothing.
The only woman pallbearer,
Of course my body should be brought into play.
The aching of my arm
Was proof
That I didn’t let you down.
Until, of course,
That was the task at hand.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
when you last saw me
i was a pretty carcass
wasn't i?
painted up for the funeral, you were
my pallbearer and up the stairs
you took me. i sat on your
shoulders because no
one else came to
my funeral.
just you
and
i.
when you last saw me
i was a pretty carcass,
covered in dirt and worms
and decomposing leaves.
in your arms you took me, your tears
washing the grime from my pale,
dead face. i remember how
it felt to watch you cry
for the first time and
i wished i was still
alive to tell you
not to. It was
just you
and
i.
when you last saw me,
i was a pretty carcass.
your love died with me that day.
and when you last saw me,
i was only a carcass
you wanted desperately to love.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 8:38 PM UTC
the weight is deceiving and the weight is due
like the weight of a wanton heart
the weight is bereaving and untrue
like the weight of a guilty heart
don't wait
i looked, and there, in the glass
death rode fast behind me
i looked, and there, in the glass
time stood still before me
i looked, and there- out there and beyond
my eyes betrayed me
don't wait
if ever you must carry- carry on
carry on as the sun, whose brightest ray has yet to shine
carry on as the moon, whose darkest day you'll never find
and as the stars, who spend all their days reaching
out there and beyond
falling short, but ever closer to glory
all the while, quietly sharing the heavens
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
When may I?
Not now under the
lampscope in my
G.I. gear—little doughboy
to hashtagged Iraqi vet.
Not now with my
hand tentatively against
your sickly body.
"Two weeks.
We're sorry."
Not now as the pallbearer,
my clutch like vacuum-sealed
lips parted for
you.
Held back by what is left of your
afterlife pride.
Not now as I watch a hurricane
gradually run aground,
wondering if the waves will crash and
if the sea will come inland,
flood your grave
in wet kisses.
If only it could stop howling for five seconds,
just to hear me.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 3:11 PM UTC
Error code: PXZ003-2-b:
"WAIT"
Blinking blindly,
unaware of absurd metaphysics,
the device flashes its advice.
For years now, probably; no one's sure.
The rest of the machinery's in pieces;
save this one brilliant gem of advice,
slowly sipping energy through
a dingy solar panel:
just enough to keep going
A red light blips
on the untended prophet,
yellow caution tape draping
impotently in shreds --
*although there is an allure
to what fabrics conceal.*
He sees none of this.
At first.
He arrives in a huff,
swearing and panting.
Pacing nervously, he lights
a spliff and throws his head back.
"I know I haven't been around much,"
he speaks in a vaguely upward direction,
"but some people say you're listening,
and that you take requests."
He laughs, flicks some ash,
and lets a sigh creep out.
"Just. Just. **** it, I don't know.
Give me a sign, anything. I'll listen."
He inhales and snuffs the roach
on his sole.
The serenity of stillness marches
in as a pallbearer with an empty casket.
A red light catches his
peripherals.
He walks to the device,
removes the dress,
and uncovers divinity.
How could he deny the voice of fate?
He waits.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
Unhitched feel me now like a blast furnace Total ****** Remeber? the one who was pallbearer & genderless
Neo natal I'm at the rim pitch black coughing up laughter finding **** in the face of it
Cog in the computer
Backward bell curve
Left skewed
Average
Low
So low
Nobody in particular really
just mashing buttons hoping it's a payoff
Not god just a phantom limb living for the hell of it
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
Wrest my head from this,
a twinge as illusive as pins.
Rake the bottom lore,
as off the mark as 'sins'.
I'm neither lessened
nor strengthened,
I reek of applemore and soot.
I draw and I leave unconceived.
I grow without practice.
I denote without lye.
I smile hopeless, with gladdened reprieve.
My pallbearer whistles,
and thinks of my joke.
I painted enough. He believes.
Turn tears now to grinning,
as I've learned the unbluff.
May I end this long night with a seed.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
A charcoal suit hangs in the closet,
it stays clean and freshly pressed.
Fine leather shoes, always polished.
A selection of silk ties,
each blacker than the last.
He keeps his fingernails clean,
he is efficient.
His back stays straight,
he ignores the pain in his feet.
He knows what to say, and
when to say nothing.
Callused hands that whisper
the names of the dead.
Gray of eye,
soft of speech.
Lips well acquainted with,
"they will be missed."
He practices his smile,
warm but at a distance.
His presence is not unwelcome.
He does his job well,
and never once asked,
"Who will carry me
when my time comes?"
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
At nineteen years old
I had to ask my coworker
What it meant to have someone
Stand at your wedding.
I have seen more overdoses,
More suicides,
More accidental shootings
Than I have seen lives created;
Lives joined.
I do not know what it means
To stand at someone's wedding
But I do know what it means to be a pallbearer
Because I remember the tears
In my father's eyes
When he laid his father to rest
Due to medicinal negligence.
I do not know
What exactly happens at a wedding
But I can tell you
What happens
When they find your best friend since kindergarten
Cold
In a hotel room miles away
With a needle in her arm,
I can tell you that we all hugged her mother
And smoked cigarettes
And wished that we could be spelling it
Heroine instead of
******
But the world doesn't work that way
And sometimes,
Most of the time,
When people ask you if you want some coke
They do not mean the soft drink
But sometimes the people I love
Accept it any way.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
To be in New York at the hour of your resolve
would be to contribute a tear with a titan
whom realized your misery,
and revelations.
To see your reflection in every mourner;
A kaleidoscope of what the head
could not surmise.
The downtrodder's voice
speaking out once more, for us.
Smirking,
and rushing through the streets;
The pallbearer of your own passage.
The gutters have lost their rat-king.
The utterance lost their laureate,
and I have lost a friend, to which,
our existence was never known.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
Happy Valentine's Day
Everything hurts
the nightstand's a pallbearer
the dresser's a curse
the apples are browning
the skies have gone black
and monsters are creeping
at your very back!
the wind whispers boo
and the sun doesn't shine
the birds are all dead
and the hamsters all cry
Oh Dear Valentine!
Where will we go?
Where to be being,
When the moon's made of snow?
below
below
below
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
I know I am unworthy & undeserving,
Beneath you, love;
And yet, with shame,
I feel the same as I have always
This heart - of yours.
It is kindred, and full of lust.
Hopelessly infatuated,
Though I know we were all wrong.
I can't help it,
And I assure you it isn't obsession
For I have known that,
This is not it.
Just painfully unrequited,
For all my faults.
Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 7:29 PM UTC
upon a hill with the birch and pine
into the shade of north mountain rain
past the foot-marks and berry bushes
i tear into the frame of what makes me.
i dig holes into dim reflections
and use and fuse the self shut.
tongue can taste the ripping of wounds
the sour and gluttonous spite
my greedy mouth chews and chews.
teeth tear the rusty bearings lose
and i sink in the swell of the sea
where the stinging is most.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
"Now cracks a noble heart. Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest"
I spoke as Hamlet died in my arms
Both the man and the play were finished today
And I was the only one to survive it
I sat at my desk in silence
The death of my lord,
My best friend,
Still heavy in my heart
And my teacher walked outside for water
And it was so noisy around me
But my soul was still giving it's respects
When I heard my name
She beckoned me to her
I left the class room,
Hamlet's only pallbearer,
And she pointed
And in a hole at the corner of the building
Sat something so precious
Peeking her little head out curiously
And with just a glance in my direction
The kitten hiding in the school building
Took the other end of hamlet's coffin
And Meleanie helped me to lift my side
And we laid him to rest in that hole of the building
Together
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Cautious where my heart's placed,
careful where I show face,
when we reach the final lap,
start to see the true pace.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Jew wish to share the good fortunes,
the gossip makes the muzzle tight,
First you hear a lot of bark,
waiting till you bear the bite.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Can't always be right or liked,
the pallbearer to one who digs their own grave,
can't liberate one who sees freedom in chains,
Let me disclaim that I'm often the same,
I'll pause the refrain.
Starting to see a pattern feeling like an omnibus,
getting harder to know who to trust,
fool me twice shame on both of us,
I needed real ones to get me out my slum,
better wounds from friends than enemy hisses,
the certainty of a brides than volatile mistresses.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Bottom line is teeth are bones,
many playing an act like clones,
standing in glass yet throwing stones,
friends are few but fear is fatal,
thread between child-like and childish,
faith is so neonatal.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Learning where to seek applause,
not trying to make enemies without a cause,
best to make amigos but never know who i might offset when i take off,
need discernment to see the cain while I'm still able,
cause even if my blood cries,
I know it's been paid for.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
"When Christ calls a man he bids him to die."
Though it doesn't sound like the most bonne offer it takes away the fear of the grave,
grace would have a hollow cost if no price was paid,
the hand of ****** would still leave a thirst for retribution,
Dietrich knew the true ruler of the people,
the one who holds the keys,
which is why he confidently said before he was sent to be hung for protecting the young,
"this is the end – for me the beginning of life."
Oct 8, 2023
Oct 8, 2023 at 12:06 AM UTC
sleep, my child,
drift upon the ether
in gentle mother's smile
as you rest beneath her
sleep, my child,
for there will come a day
when forces far from mild
will come out war to play
when the vicious and the terror
will tear each other apart
leaving nothing but a pallbearer
and a broken heart
till that day, my child, sleep
revel in your youth
dance among the woodbines' creep
the leaves of jagged tooth
amongst the mosses of spring and elves
sleep, my child, sleep,
for men will ever corrupt themselves
as the humble weep
and till the day when evil implodes
when all that's good survives
skip along the sleepy roads
where butterflies lead good lives
hide beneath the buttercup
for its shelter is more true
than all the falseness that's blown up
in world that waits for you
Feb 7, 2022
Feb 7, 2022 at 10:30 AM UTC
Love's lost today
in teeth's glaciers;
& pallbearer feet,
tho pigeon-toed,
march me away
from erasure.
A heart escheats
to whom it's owed,
one must repay;
for love's nature
is grieving fleet,
& must erode -
an ache to rehearse,
repeated in verse.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 1:26 PM UTC
There are six coffin bearers carrying a box,
It was a solemn procession with priests and pastors,
Rituals performed; requiems sung; lamentations heard,
Who is in the coffin? Who are the coffin bearers?
A flash of interrogations hit my heart and mind:
Where do they carry the body in the coffin?
Who are the priests and pastors to the one who is breathless?
Why are lamentations ‘sung’? Why are rituals?
Are they to please the breathless corpse?
Where is the breathless corpse taken to?
Beyond doubt, the destination of the corpse is the cemetery.
Mourners and pallbearers are hired not by the corpse,
Dance performed; refrains gusted out;
Garlands of melancholic florets thrashed out;
Beats of unpleasantness resounded.
A silent spell practiced on the last journey of the corpse;
Neither a pallbearer nor the folks raised any slogan;
But everyone’s prayer in silence realized.
I am a passerby walking with a lot of reflections,
The coffin bearers shall be carried too one day,
The priests and the pastors will be taken in processions,
Rituals, requiems and lamentations will be enacted.
Coffins are ready for all with mourners and pallbearers,
Dance, refrains, garlands and beats shall be added to glooms.
I ask myself: when is my day?
Who shall make my coffin?
I cannot hear requiems in my long sleep,
I am far from rituals; dumb to lamentations,
I must reach my destination, whether l like or not,
Folks will never come with me,
For I came with nothing and leave with nothing.
Where do I go? Where does everyone go?
I cannot be a passerby to my own last journey.
I long for my day; it may not be my will;
But the day to all is predestined,
And we are to leave this shadow of life.
So, when is my day?
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC