Tag: Poetry about death

Dust


The theory of dust..
I have just invented..
Or maybe I read it.. 
in some magazine..

It says that this earth.. 
is highly committed,
to pulling you down..
deep and within.

That’s why its magnetic.. 
Reunion of dust..
It’s almost poetic..

But everything dies.
Every. Thing. Ends.
The earth will get back.
all what she has lent..

But wait.. 

there is heaven..
with angels and souls
It’s properly hidden.
behind some unseen walls..
and mostly forgotten..
between the prayers and moans..

but it has also given..
your soul and your scent..
she also wants back..
what she has once lent..

You try to escape..
You want to exist..
you try finding life..
You try and resist..

in the darkness of cosmos.
in the light of your heaven..
some loves and some hates..
we think all persists

so dust pulls some dust
and soul pulls some soul
laws of attraction..
that always exist..

but,

Everyone dies..
Everything ends..

From the Brain Tumor Clinic

Give me a minute, I will dance again…
I will smile at you..
I will share a story..
I will take you for dinner, and I will pay too.

Give me an hour, we will go for a walk..
We will breathe that fresh air by the river, we will eat grilled chestnuts..
We will laugh and talk..

Give me some more time, and I won’t save a dime.
I will buy myself a ticket, I will buy you one too..
I am not too sad, I just don’t like farewell parties.
I will have a few drinks and then slip away when nobody is watching..
“Oh.. He left. It was nice when he was here..”

Well, here is a memory to keep.
I will tap on your shoulder,
and caress your neck.
Remember these touches,
Unlike me, they are eternal.

It is not what they think..
I am not collecting much pleasure now.
I am trying to leave bits of me behind.
I don’t want to cease to exist.
I don’t want you to forget.

Oh, I guess it is time.

I will put on my favorite socks with bicycle patterns
I will ride my bicycle to that field with the blooming flowers
I will take photos of the yellow ones.. at the time of the sunset.. 
Just like every spring, when I think they bloom to say:

Adios

Artwork: passing of hope

Photo: Passing of love, using: photo by Zoe, photo by Danielle Dolson , photo by Julian Hochgesang, photo by Aron Visuals