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Death Mocks Me!

Updated on January 7, 2010

Death mocks me


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Death mocks me

it taunts me

with what if's

like a blurry


it looms to

taint the views

I see around me.

It nudges me

when my heart

murmurs harder

then usual.

It drops men

all around me

my age

and says see....

"I got your number

and it's

a low one...."

It forces me to

read the obits

to try and understand

why so many much

younger than I

have gone on.

It spoils a good smoke

I see a tiny Hades on the

orange red, flaming tip

souls writhing there

amidst nicotine demons.

I see my mothers

fragile corpse

drop with a rude thud

into the fires

of the crematory oven,

the frozen waste

that icicle'd

from her nose,

reduced to water in

a blink of tears

in my own eyes.

Foul, flesh carnate

and mortal years of

building to this dilemma

now faced.


much too well,

having dealt with death

far too often

in the service

of my country.

Knowing it all

just goes to what's shat

the food we eat

the dreams we carry.

The air becomes

less available

the taste of

sweetness dulls...

Damn the plan,

the pain,

the wrinkles,

that peek out

and fold across

your once tight skin.

Damn the design

to be born...grow old

and die....

what insanity is this

to deny the decades

the centuries

the eons to those

who pour out their souls

in ink and flowered words.

So much more to offer

but the clock

goes way too fast..

Death chuckles

in the rumble

of my twice yearly


in my intestinal fortitude

more grumblings,

a seething cauldron

of gases churning.....

The bowels of hell

spew fiery darkness


and death turns

up the pressure.

in a steamy concoction

twice daily.

I move vowels less now

and bowels more.

My grandmother died

from internal bleeding

she was to old

to patch the holes

inside her gut.

She wept and

squeezed my hand

and said she didn't

want to go yet.

But sleep took her

one week later

alone late

in the night.

Death snickered cruelly

as she was rolled

out to the hearse

her soul following

dutifully behind.

I sang "Amazing Grace"

at her funeral

but only wanted to scream

"Unfricking believable."

I wanted to throttle death

with a pickaxe

but death is eternal.

it just keeps eating away

at all I'd hope to retain.

He's winning you know

you're on his list too.

He's getting

double orders lately

and large groups

are his delight.

I used to take

more chances

back when I felt what I had

was still forever,

but forever still remains

long after I am remains.

What death will introduce.

is the absence of this life

with the sweet scents of

crocuses wafting from

purple passionate cups,

the frost

in your nose hairs

on a crackling

crisp January day,

The splash of salt water

in a turquoise ocean

floating on a raft,

or in the comforting oblivion

of a hammocked nap

with nothing better to do.

The crunchy, sugary odors

of multi-colored leaves

flying haphazardly

left and right

in an autumn dash,

the warmth of your

baby in your arms

All that life holds

precious and then some,

stolen in an instant

and traded down

for the unknown.

He dangles

like a spider web

over your face,

a feeling that is

so damn creepy.

Of course I do have faith

but it will not

save me from dying

it simply promises

that I only have to

die just once.

Such a deal!!!


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