deepundergroundpoetry.com
Death Moves In
Today Death,
became my new roommate.
I could smell
his stale cut flowers
drowning too long in the vase.
No-one else noticed,
not the Japanese girl
smiling on the subway
not Henry the janitor
nor the architect along the hall.
But the cat knew,
when I came home
the hackles rose.
Her sixth sense saw
Death, was moving in.
Now the chill seems intense
even the sun,
through big brownstone windows
streaming down at noon
can't warm condemned cells.
Death rests his hand on the thermo
and he never lets go.
His focus on time is acute
blinding eyes until seconds are splutters
each one vanishing beyond a breath.
After the Doc's news
when you understand all escape routes
have been sealed,
you stalk decisions
whether to advertize or lie low
until Death claims his dues.
Life however, remains polite
so of course, you offer him a chair,
your favorite corner
the best seat in the house--
but you have the feeling
he's not impressed
with the view.
And while Death drinks your future
you chew on the past
timing sips with a desperate precision
that tops up his glass
to understand the emptiness of your own
the weight of the bottle
balanced firmly
within his grasp.
Published 3rd Mar 2010
| Edited 8th May 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
3rd Mar 2010 4:34pm
You deliver the rhythym of class poetry effortlessly.
The 'eyes' / 'arrive' balance out the poem at it's pivot point and the final stanza ties the whole thing together perfectly.
Great work..
Steven
The 'eyes' / 'arrive' balance out the poem at it's pivot point and the final stanza ties the whole thing together perfectly.
Great work..
Steven
3rd Mar 2010 5:33pm
Actually this one caused me a fair amount
of sweat - I hope the ending is not too
obscure for people. Thanks for your kind
words, Steven
of sweat - I hope the ending is not too
obscure for people. Thanks for your kind
words, Steven
Anonymous
3rd Mar 2010 9:52pm
perfect evocation of a terminally ill man's mindset. Your metaphors are fantastic, as ever, I just really, really, really hope this isn't based on any personal experience!
3rd Mar 2010 10:32pm
Thanks for your kind feedback, Jack - I was worried about the last stanza being a tad too obscure, but you have put my mind at rest.
Anonymous
4th Mar 2010 6:00am
you capture it with such startling feel.The last stanza is an absolute smasher. I hope this is just a product of temporary low feeling that we all get, yeah?
4th Mar 2010 8:42am
This is based - in part - on personal
experience of a health scare I had a
while back, Priya
- but don't worry I'll be alive and kicking forever if I have anything to do with it.
Thanks for your kind words.
experience of a health scare I had a
while back, Priya
- but don't worry I'll be alive and kicking forever if I have anything to do with it.
Thanks for your kind words.
Anonymous
4th Mar 2010 9:41am
do hang in there A,i hope all such scares will prove faux calls for you:-)
4th Mar 2010 2:29pm
of metaphors is extraordinary;
"so that seconds are splutters
gone before you know they arrive."
I love the way you're able to brilliantly portray one's feelings - this poem seems so real and accurate it's worrying.
"so that seconds are splutters
gone before you know they arrive."
I love the way you're able to brilliantly portray one's feelings - this poem seems so real and accurate it's worrying.
4th Mar 2010 3:32pm
I try and make everything I write convincing, Arryn - so your great comment is the highest compliment.
Whenever possible I draw on feelings from my own experience and I'm also a great believer in living many different lives, not just one. Thanks again.
Whenever possible I draw on feelings from my own experience and I'm also a great believer in living many different lives, not just one. Thanks again.
