Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Curt A Rivard Sr Jun 2012
Writing poetry will be a lifetime challenge for me to try and conquer. With Credits in Poetry among other accomplishments I truly respect the gift I have been blessed with. A talent that involves attempts to portray a picture through a sequence of letters in there very special order.
At the tender age of 16 I learned of my first family death, Grandpa Ralph and exactly 1 week later my grandmother Mildred who my mother took in and I was chosen to make sure she got her coffee, breakfast along with her medicine and other meals all day. I had to give up a summer of going swimming and other things that a kid my age wanted to do just to keep here company but I learned something so valuable at the same time and that was, I learned how to crochet, learned about birds, and learned to respect the elderly. To this day I still carry those values even to the point of even walking into a old folks home to just talk to strangers and even if I have to pretend to be their own family member so be it because I would like for someone to do just the same for me even if I didn’t know what was going on.
It was due to a brain tumor that took my grandmother away after Christmas that year and I remember it still ever so well when I woke up to go to work at the family’s bakery and my mom told me what had happened and everything that was to follow. My grandmother was the first of many I had saw lying ever so peaceful. I even gave her a kiss and I could feel that it was a warm one that I gave her.
Death throughout the many years now have taking on a new role. A role that should I believe be more up close and personal. Calling hours I think should be done in the family’s home where the deceased can maybe feel more comfortable being among everything they ever knew and among the ones that they loved and vice versa.
I have always wanted to be remembered centuries to follow my death. It seems the only way to accomplish that is to die either famous or infamous. Like the pope in Rome I to want to be laid out in estate for all to come and pay their respect. Obituaries now on the other hand along with media coverage to me seems, only the important and wealthy get all the coverage. Movies on another note portray a different message that has no comparison to the true facts. Directors, they make you think that it is either something so morbid like Friday the 13th or make you think you have to go out in a blaze of glory like Bonnie and Clyde. Television now has so many programs that entertain people’s most inner fears that you only want it to be more gruesome and gory. Now cartoons, that’s another ball game, children see subliminal messages that, if you die you will come back to life after you’re killed when in true contrast how can that be true.
Arts and literature including paintings, writings and music have a major impact on the subject when it comes to death, The ancient Egyptians’ I think were probably the masters on the subject of embalming. There techniques still to this day can’t be compared to. I am still fascinated to this day on just that. I even wrote Poems speaking of just such procedures and how I’d want it to be done if I had my way with the preserving of myself. With all the music and there sick lyrics your found either wanting to **** or run and hide from the killer.

(CARSr. 4-21-12)
nivek Aug 2017
what can you say
when all has been said

"Nothing new under the Sun"

just differing angles.

when even an old quote
is as fresh as the day it was first uttered.
Jordan Aug 2013
you’ve got to rule really hard at ******* in order to be successful. success is based on how bad you **** at ruling and it isnt until you commit to full **** mode that you can accomplish anything in the best of ways. **** terribly, **** well, **** completely, cause until you **** you will never not **** and not ******* is only a testement to how hard you have ****** in the past and how willing you are to **** moving forward. Moral of the story rule at ruling by ******* so hard that you become awesome.
**** win lose nevermind forget about it reverse psychologyy dead beeat surfer night out bliss mode rule circus your precieved worst quality is actaully your best trait, welcome to the show do you just live
Paula Swanson Aug 2010
From a winding black ribbon,
I see a valley green.
Through heat waves and dusty haze,
an oasis seen.
Tucked within the mountain range,
no road leading in.
Testament that the rain does play,
in the desert wind.

From a winding black ribbon,
I turn westward.
Through heat waves and dusty haze,
I only look forward.
Tucked within the mountain range,
my stress does unravel.
Testament that the rain does play,
on the road less traveled

From a winding black ribbon,
I find my way home.
Through heat waves and dusty haze,
I traveled alone.
Tucked within the mountain range,
Off the beaten track
Testement that the rain does play,
even when I come back.
Mike sikes Sep 2014
The asylum has stood for hundreds of years, a testement to the old worlds constructors. Now her precious orniments have all been stripped from these rotting walls. Everything non-structural has been lost. What has become of my home
My family tossed to the wind.
Like
        so
    many
  l
    e
     a
       v
        e
         s.
I walk these halls for the last time today.
I was once its protector, now these lonley corridors invite an enemy I once eradicated- back into our world.
An enemy to which today,
I have no defense.
My own dark soul.
Today I go to my death,
I greet it with a smile. This is all my fault.
It started with me,
today It ends with me.
                                            
I will always be here. Even when I am not
                                               - Mike Sikes
Spike Harper Dec 2015
At long last.
The cement has dried.
Casting a laughable hue on this decrepit hill.
Has the air always been this thick.
Gravity seems to want more than I can stand.
I wish not to instill this image in my mind.
Yet as I gaze upon the casted hand.
There is no real explanation.
For this miniscule action to have even..
Come to be.
But thus it has.
Formulated in the very consciousness that guided these dreaded feet forth.
A relic of old it is.
Glory.
And now simply a need to be remembered.
As i search my desolate suroundings.
Does one begin to truly understand.
Meaning to such action.
Loses its definition.
With every lingering moment that eternity allows.
What a distorted rendition this constant reel has made.
Yet this came from nowhere also.
Right?
Loathing the next pace.
Yet comforted in knowing.
That imprint will one day fade.
Ghastly remnants of failure.
Remodeled bone.
The sight from these very eyes.
What comes of the endless.
endurance of fame.
A life in search of the meaning it never had.
Detest.
Expectation.
Inhibition.
The compass supposedly zeroed at due society.
Let the rise and fall of this chest be testement.
A moment.
Is just a moment.
There is only one key.
Choose.
What may.
Enter.
tom krutilla Nov 2013
THERES A LIVING ANGEL THAT WALKS AMONGST US
AND I'LL CALL HER MOM
SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SOUL, HER MERE PRESENCES PUTS
YOU AT EASE
SO CARING AND UNRELENTING IN HER LOVE FOR HER CHILDREN
A TRUE GIFT FROM GOD
THOUGH SHE LOST HER HUSBAND 43YRS AGO, SHE HAS NEVER
WAVERED FROM HER FAMILY
TO BRING UP SEVEN KIDS,ALONE, IS A TESTEMENT OF HER
STRENGTH AND COURAGE
HER WORLD HAS ALWAYS BEEN HER CHILDREN,TO GUIDE THEM
TO WORRY BOUT THEM
AND FOREVER ALWAYS TO WELCOME THEM BACK HOME
Chloe Potter Feb 2016
What an angry girl you are
So filled to the brim with jealousy and confusion
And hopelessness
That’s what fuels all of this
Isn’t it?
Can’t imagine living to thirty
Wishing your life away
Honestly believing with every fibre in your being
That no one will know you completely
And yet still love you
That alone is how you’ll stay
The sad brown eyes
And dark circles that are a testement to the nights you cry yourself to sleep
I wish
You would of learned earlier to love yourself
And actually cared for your wellbeing
I wish
you would of stood up for yourself
I wish
I could hug you and say that your body is beautiful
And it was his fault not your own
Negativity and resentment eat you up inside out
If only you let go of that earlier
Wasted years and wasted thoughts on those who didn’t deserve your tears
4/2/16

— The End —