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Death Mocks Me!

Updated on May 23, 2022
MFB III profile image

Artist, actor, poet, teacher, songwriter & actor with 4,000 poems & almost 1,000 songs written, performed recorded & published on line.

Death is but a doorway to whatever we have yet to face.

Death is a given do not fear it because it is just useless worrying

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!!!

© 2009 Matthew Frederick Blowers III


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