TheMuses22
Muse22
Muse22
Poem Published
20th Jan 2019 11:32pm
20th Jan 2019 11:32pm
The Stuff of a Faulkner Novel
the children were given guns;
pellet guns to kill
rats in the house
fifteen year-old candy
in fifty year-old fridge
moth-eaten clothes ...
pellet guns to kill
rats in the house
fifteen year-old candy
in fifty year-old fridge
moth-eaten clothes ...
#family
#memories
#memorial
50 reads
8 Comments
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
12th Dec 2018 10:06pm
12th Dec 2018 10:06pm
Catacombs
(Somebody’s going to think we’re a functional schizophrenic in a minute listing to John Gibbs & U.S. Steel Orchestra - Trinidad typing this up but uh)
I saw myself
Upon
Returning
From the
Catacombs of
Risque;
Network
In tunnels
Unifying
Stones
Of me
To
Eradicate
The
Burroughs
Overrun by
Cemeteries
And their
Walls
Collapsing
Amidst
Wagons
Ready
For the
Night
Succession;
Transporting-
My
Everything
To a now ...
I saw myself
Upon
Returning
From the
Catacombs of
Risque;
Network
In tunnels
Unifying
Stones
Of me
To
Eradicate
The
Burroughs
Overrun by
Cemeteries
And their
Walls
Collapsing
Amidst
Wagons
Ready
For the
Night
Succession;
Transporting-
My
Everything
To a now ...
#women
#gay
#power
#politics
#memorial
59 reads
Catman555
Poem Published
8th Dec 2018 9:49pm
8th Dec 2018 9:49pm
Inspirational Wave
An unusual sound
Had developed
Others have found
An inspiration
The scene of youths
Of a declining city
The scene moves
And expands
The rebellious
The religious
The political
The critical
The revolutionary wave
Took over the sound
No longer felt like a slave
To radios or TV screens
Had developed
Others have found
An inspiration
The scene of youths
Of a declining city
The scene moves
And expands
The rebellious
The religious
The political
The critical
The revolutionary wave
Took over the sound
No longer felt like a slave
To radios or TV screens
#memorial
28 reads
2 Comments
Juvenalis66
Poem Published
20th Nov 2018 11:52pm
20th Nov 2018 11:52pm
If I may
If I can't see you,
may I imagine you?
If I can't hear you,
may I dream
about your voice?
Can I be fond of
a dream?
Can I fall in love
with my imagination?
If life is for me a burden,
can you forse me to live?
If I cry, or fall, or suffer,
will you feel my pain?
As I can't give you my sorrow,
you can't give me your choice,
as my only freedom is in my will.
Stand by me, if I feel grief.
Hold my hand, if I am afraid.
Hug me, if I cry and scream.
If I choose the extreme sacrifice, ...
may I imagine you?
If I can't hear you,
may I dream
about your voice?
Can I be fond of
a dream?
Can I fall in love
with my imagination?
If life is for me a burden,
can you forse me to live?
If I cry, or fall, or suffer,
will you feel my pain?
As I can't give you my sorrow,
you can't give me your choice,
as my only freedom is in my will.
Stand by me, if I feel grief.
Hold my hand, if I am afraid.
Hug me, if I cry and scream.
If I choose the extreme sacrifice, ...
#dark
#death
#memorial
#emotional
#morality
85 reads
13 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
20th Nov 2018 2:03am
20th Nov 2018 2:03am
Cemetary Walk In November
This is what it is to be complete,
it is horrible.’
-Sylvia Plath
Kicking through leaves
the whitened stones unannounce themselves
to rushing air, quiet, unreckoned,
pandering to a deceased moment
which endlessly repeats its
howling, repentant song.
I am never coming back, it says,
who would, not here, not ever.
Underfoot I notice trampled clothes
and a belt, an opened packet of something,
a whiskey bottle freezes gradually to
the patchy ground.
How unholy, lifes...
it is horrible.’
-Sylvia Plath
Kicking through leaves
the whitened stones unannounce themselves
to rushing air, quiet, unreckoned,
pandering to a deceased moment
which endlessly repeats its
howling, repentant song.
I am never coming back, it says,
who would, not here, not ever.
Underfoot I notice trampled clothes
and a belt, an opened packet of something,
a whiskey bottle freezes gradually to
the patchy ground.
How unholy, lifes...
#fall
#SylviaPlath
#memorial #graveyard
#memorial #graveyard
131 reads
11 Comments
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
19th Nov 2018 10:25pm
19th Nov 2018 10:25pm
+Art-Naked to the World
And Who
Shall I
Become
For
You
Tonight?
Court jester,
Magistrate,
The brother
Of Lord
(Byron-I don’t know who)
On the battlefield
Of parody
Being
Erected
Across
The board
Of my tomb
Right now;
Even as we speak.
(And who were you the last time I saw you?)
#harlot I...
Shall I
Become
For
You
Tonight?
Court jester,
Magistrate,
The brother
Of Lord
(Byron-I don’t know who)
On the battlefield
Of parody
Being
Erected
Across
The board
Of my tomb
Right now;
Even as we speak.
(And who were you the last time I saw you?)
#harlot I...
#women
#gay
#identity
#BDSM
#memorial
120 reads
Gahddess_Worship
Poem Published
12th Nov 2018 9:54pm
12th Nov 2018 9:54pm
WHAT'S LEFT BEHIND
Stan at the station waits.
An indelible legacy remains.
Many millions mourn.
Remembered in print,
splashed on the silver screen.
A force for good to Valhalla flies.
What of Cousin Joey?
On a bench nearby.
Not yet fifty years achieved.
This morn Into pick up truck climbed.
Through eternal portal passed.
More finite the group
of loved ones to mourn.
Yet equally bereft.
Whose legacy be remembered most?
Whose ripple extends as far?
In someone’s eyes both super heroes.
Remembered for good deeds. ...
An indelible legacy remains.
Many millions mourn.
Remembered in print,
splashed on the silver screen.
A force for good to Valhalla flies.
What of Cousin Joey?
On a bench nearby.
Not yet fifty years achieved.
This morn Into pick up truck climbed.
Through eternal portal passed.
More finite the group
of loved ones to mourn.
Yet equally bereft.
Whose legacy be remembered most?
Whose ripple extends as far?
In someone’s eyes both super heroes.
Remembered for good deeds. ...
#grief
#death
#memories
#memorial
#LifeCycle
101 reads
8 Comments
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
27th Oct 2018 2:41pm
27th Oct 2018 2:41pm
Fb
Have you ever
Imagined
Your entire life
Being
Reduced to
Your last
Fb post,
In the event of an
Untimely death?
Of course,
that’s also true
Anywhere
That clocks you
With a date and time
Stamp
But you get
More working
Room
In certain
Other places.
(Social media just creeps me out, im just weird like that)
Imagined
Your entire life
Being
Reduced to
Your last
Fb post,
In the event of an
Untimely death?
Of course,
that’s also true
Anywhere
That clocks you
With a date and time
Stamp
But you get
More working
Room
In certain
Other places.
(Social media just creeps me out, im just weird like that)
#identity
#politics
#death
#memorial
#PopCulture
78 reads
3 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
27th Oct 2018 00:35am
27th Oct 2018 00:35am
Grown-up Camp Fire Girl
Grown-up Camp Fire Girl
Those girl’s only campouts
Left her in puppy love withdrawal
Of boyfriend blues
But now love notes need not be saved
For future reading
Because paper airplane whispers
Are near as the air they breathe
Her woodsy smile comes naturally
in a place where her laughter
echoes the babbling brook
Like a girl scout saving her cookie sales
In a piggy bank of pennies for love
To be spent on this summer’s day
When childhood is far away
Those girl’s only campouts
Left her in puppy love withdrawal
Of boyfriend blues
But now love notes need not be saved
For future reading
Because paper airplane whispers
Are near as the air they breathe
Her woodsy smile comes naturally
in a place where her laughter
echoes the babbling brook
Like a girl scout saving her cookie sales
In a piggy bank of pennies for love
To be spent on this summer’s day
When childhood is far away
#love
#wife
#marriage
#romantic
#memorial
75 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
27th Oct 2018 00:34am
27th Oct 2018 00:34am
Tree Lover
Tree Lover
Walking memory lane
On land, her feet trod
In a place without crop circles
Where soybeans filled the rows
In a horticulturist paradise
But today the air held a fragrance
Of roses in the Garden of Eden
Under the sky filled by her soul
With crystal blue joy
We mere mortals gathered around
To remember her earthly incarnation
Her daughter channeled her mother’s spirit
In a sun-worshipping dance
of inner-directed motion
The sons spoke of her courage
Tears sprinkled the ground like holy water
To...
Walking memory lane
On land, her feet trod
In a place without crop circles
Where soybeans filled the rows
In a horticulturist paradise
But today the air held a fragrance
Of roses in the Garden of Eden
Under the sky filled by her soul
With crystal blue joy
We mere mortals gathered around
To remember her earthly incarnation
Her daughter channeled her mother’s spirit
In a sun-worshipping dance
of inner-directed motion
The sons spoke of her courage
Tears sprinkled the ground like holy water
To...
#love
#grief
#romantic
#death
#memorial
75 reads
2 Comments
David_Macleod
Poem Published
26th Oct 2018 2:36am
26th Oct 2018 2:36am
Expendable
They were the expendable
To all but a few, remembered
They were so very brave
So fearless in the face of war
They were the expendable
Many lost their lives to many to count
To many to give a decent burial
Marked graves only marked by blood
They were the expendable
Enlisted rather than volunteered
They did the most dangerous tasks
They served King and country valiantly
The were the expendable
They died where they fell
Their rotting carcases for all to see
The flies and rats cleared their bones
...
To all but a few, remembered
They were so very brave
So fearless in the face of war
They were the expendable
Many lost their lives to many to count
To many to give a decent burial
Marked graves only marked by blood
They were the expendable
Enlisted rather than volunteered
They did the most dangerous tasks
They served King and country valiantly
The were the expendable
They died where they fell
Their rotting carcases for all to see
The flies and rats cleared their bones
...
#war
#death
#memorial
96 reads
8 Comments
Josh
Poem Published
23rd Oct 2018 5:35pm
23rd Oct 2018 5:35pm
Volcano
The volcano never apologised
it had a job to do
seething deep down with molten fire
hard motivated to a certain goal
it spluttered and coughed
then whiplashed when commanded -
and erupted.
The volcano, never recognised,
stood in a barren landscape
arched back, a soldier, smoking
with his head blown off.
it had a job to do
seething deep down with molten fire
hard motivated to a certain goal
it spluttered and coughed
then whiplashed when commanded -
and erupted.
The volcano, never recognised,
stood in a barren landscape
arched back, a soldier, smoking
with his head blown off.
#grief
#soldiers
#war
#memorial
#suffering
116 reads
20 Comments
DU Poetry : Memorial Poems
