When Death Comes Knocking

New or Old Poem

Have you experienced near death

either through sickness or otherwise

did it change who you are today?

please tell me about it in verse

one entry per person

Here is a link to my entry, "Amongst the Dead". It is too big to post all in one go right here, so this way everyone can read it without it having to be broken up into smaller parts. Enjoy!

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/29341-amongst-the-dead/

DOOR LESS HALL

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/56472-door-less-hall/

Barrel Gazing

Barrel gazing, point blank range
This black hole at the end of carbon steel
An eye of impenetrable midnight
The Colt doesn't waver, even twitch
Just stares me down
Rock steady under the security light
The old man smiles pleasantly
"Maybe you should just leave, son
Maybe look for another line of work."
All I can do is walk away
But just a glance back
Towards a gentle man in rent-a-cop gear
Offering guidance for a fresh career.

When Death Came Knocking...

when death came knockin...
i was a baby
maybe a few months out the lady
i came up out the water and landed in shit waste deep
pops hatin me momma on my cheek kissin me
the apple of her eye just a bit of bliss in her world of misery.
one day around my first christmas tree
bullets flyin through the room missin me
and george jetson but hittin mr spacely blastin out the tv
would this kid grow up? shit thats a maybe.
with family less like brady more like manson with a pop lookin like j.w. gacy
life was already fuckin crazy

then i grew up
lived through more than a few cuts and with the scars went and grew a set of blue nuts. my life was a state of rage lookin at the scars across my face at the tender age of ten
i was just so full of hate lookin at every1 around just to say fuck them
but what then? death came knockin
in the form of hard yellow cocaine when they overcame every1 who i cared to know by name.
i can still smell the stink
role models bring the crack back again and again cuttin their thumbs on chore and just hit the pipe to no end.
sellin all the foodstamps at half cost
for a couple teaners of that crack rock
and here i was young and hungry just learnin how to back talk
learnin i was the product of a glass dick. an accident of a bad habit and
stuck as a witness wondering if second hand smoke can cause addiction. the type of thoughts a young man shouldnt have to be thinkin
cant even count how many times i almost died riding out to cleveland in my aunts old lincoln exhaust fumes stinkin engine light blinkin and a grown man named frosty and his boy D laughing in the backseat cuttin bags and drinkin.
i know what yall thinkin this is the end of my sorted tale
like youd think young bull would get bored of hell
but fuck what you think... i got much more to tell.

i went from the ghetto to the farm where my psycho dad had me growin what you smokin in his barn. then before i even knew it helicoptors over head feds rushin through it. someone started talkin, pops was off plottin and the police began knockin. i saw a red dot through the pot smoke
and through my damn hands up. i was only 15 and wasnt really tryna be another lost soul goin out death by cop so i dropped to the damn floor and didnt dare stand up. they shut the place down but left little old me to hang around
then no shit i lived through the police just to have my fathers mother bust at me with a stolen pistol hidden in her gown tryna blame me that her sons a fuckin drug dealin clown
even my once sweet grand momma tried to erase me, now shes all alone in a home wasting but that dont help me now that im shellshocked and crazy. the next time when death comes knockin... i expect it to quit stalkin, bitch talkin, and just fuckin face me.

For many years I sidestepped death
been so afraid to die
Said I would choose my last timed breath
and last dropped tear to cry

A very careful life I led
No chances I had took
Sleeping in my little bed
reading the good book

My youth passed by and slipped away
no trace of death I saw
Middle age were carefree days
The letter of the law

An older man I stayed home much
the fear still in my gut
Death could not sneak up on me
in my small country hut

My family daily brought my food
my poor dog always tested
For not by poison I would die
and see Death have me bested

Salesman they would come and go
but never tricked me once
For I would never open doors
for books or mail or such

So grey and frail for many years
so very long I lived
by just refusing to meet Death
and the release it gives

I've seen the centuries
all slide by outside my chosen cell
countless things have passed me by
inside my static hell

Hearing and my sight both went
my poor bones they did ache
the price I paid for slow decay
and every day to wake

Death had one trick it finally tried
to meet me in my dreams
I felt safe there with nothing real
and nothing as it seems

A little crow who spoke to me
with song so sweet and pure
No one would suspect it's Death
I can't be blamed for sure

It asked me please to follow it
to it's nest so demure
But only if I wanted to
my agelessness to cure

So in dreams I did fly with it
To it's home of chicks
and they too all did welcome me
bereft of crimes or tricks

To it's word it made me young
my body lean and strong
but one poor chick absorbed my years
withered and was gone

I begged this please be permanent
and change back wanted never
"Only if you swear", it said,
"to live in dreams forever"

"I'd gladly trade my waking form
for this amazing life"
Existing in the realm of Dream
with no fear,death or strife

And so I died back in your world
and finally learned at last
Death is just the end of flesh
and all the rest has passed

Heaven is a dreaming mind
for all someday to meet
So welcome that crow when it comes
Dreaming's forever sleep

thank you all for the diverse and great entries

The eulogy of a convict"            
          , it vibrates through my soul. it empowers me, and           My former self seems like a thousand years ago....evaporated into the ether like a hit of that indica smoke I like to blow....  Why do I keep selling myself short? I'm to tall to be that short. never again will I sell myself that short.... I hear your laughter I know I've paid the toll.... Why GOD did you give me so much potential? put a pad in front of me and said, "lets just see how far you can go pushin that pencil. Draw up the life you want my son only you have the power!"....For my family, for my family I will bleed, I will not cower, I will be there in your hour of need. See GOD I have the good intentions, not to mention I know I've tried... I'm trying to do good.... but I've grown up in the hood and there's  something that just makes me down to ride, but not tonight I've got Demons to fight and an Angel on my side........So this is a suicide note to my former self.....It's time for my past to die...I will NEVER forget where I come from it makes me the man I am and the man I want to be.... I've seen the sun rise while standing on hollowed ground and I've been down in the gutter, so it's time for me to stand tall and be the man my father raised me to be.... To those who know the truth , you know I've endured the bruises of a hard life , of hard time...., can you forgive me just one more time? and I might just surprise you this time.... So come to the funeral of an O.G. of the past me of the street kid, of the convict I used to be.... Come see my phoenix rise from the dirt and see the rose that blooms from my former self's headstone and cremated ashes.... and watch me blast past the rest of the pack and cash in on this potential....                                               the eulogy of a convict.. by j.c. Vazquez 10/6/2004..... P.S.  Rest in the peace I know you've been looking for. much love to harry murphy

The Poetry Of Death

death comes to those that suppose
death never comes to greet
them that knows
that life is precious
but a bad bitch
she break your heart
and rip your dreams apart
that you wished you were dead
only if you could get around
and get ahead
then life would be fair
death is ever present
whenever you doubt
if your life is worth fighting for
or not worth the words in your mouth
death is poetry that does not rhyme
life is poetry that does not care

Eid

Written during a rocket attack at Kandahar Airfield on 19 Aug 2012.

the rockets come
as the call to prayer sounds
God's greatness is proclaimed
amid murderous thunder

i contemplate this,
on the floor of my room
the explosions get closer
i feel the blood leave my face

allah u akbar
allau u akbar
Eid al Fitr
the fast is as broken
as the peace we had known

messages of love and worship
reinforced with offerings of death
we are mad, and do not deserve
the bounty of this world

the imam's words drift
over the base, the rockets
sharp cracks echo into the heavens
allah u akbar......boom
allah u akbar
allah u akbar....boom

i miss my wife and my dog
i miss my nephew and my guitars
i miss my bikes and my solitude
to huddle in masses is a low state of being
i miss the pastures of my Father's farm
i miss the embrace of a German forest in Winter
allah u akbar
allah u akbar
allah u akbar

there is no all clear
just words of prayer
i do not undertand
is god great?  i think rockets are greater

they carry real fear,
i do not even think
of god now, i steadfastly remain
an athiest in a foxhole....
i mean, an athiest on the floor of his room

A Defining Moment

The trees, the caravans
in my line of view
Your shouting
bouncing off closed car windows
Ringing in my ears
The angry look on your face
The hatred in your eyes
were to be the last thing I'd see

All this starts to fade away
Replaced by a creeping blackness
As the pressure of your hands
around my neck strengthens
hurting me more and more
I knew this could be it
The time when there would be...no more me...
Then you let go
And I breathed

Not long after that I left
Took our kids
Hid for decades
But that time with you
put me on a path where I grew
To be who I am today
So I have to say...
Thank you

Eye Cayme Bakk Frum Duh Grayve

Eye dyed last weak.
Dey beareed me wit awl
da festivteez.
Den eye cayme bakk tew lyfe.
Eye dugg mai weigh out.
Eye saw uh bryte lyte.
Itt wuzint Heavinn.
Iz wuz cole.
It wuz lonelee.
Eye tink eye wuz inn Hell.
Noc noc.
Whooz dat?
Deaf.

thank you all for such soulful entries

Congratulation Jessica for the win

Congratulations also to Dresdamanx and Sandman68 for placing

Thank you so much for considering my work. There were a lot of great entries.