death

Here we go again: Night Thoughts

Startzman ·

                #425

              The Door

Sometimes I'll go fishing

On Death's farthest shore;

Sometimes I'll walk up to his house

And beat upon his door,

Yell, "Open up and let me in;

I can't stand it anymore!

That last sharp pain that hit me,

Knocked me to the floor.

So open up and take me;

I can't stand it anymore."

 

After Dylan Thomas...

Startzman ·

                   #393

                   Death

I don't want to die in the Springtime,

I don't want to leave in the Fall,

I don't want to exit in Summer;

I'd prefer not to exit at all.

 

But I will go gentle in Winter

If the snow's scattered deep all around;

I'll go mostly gentle in Winter,

Into that good night and the ground.

Considerations...

Startzman ·

                 #369

             Methuselah?

I will not say I want to live

My life to be one hundred;

For what if I were wracked with pain,

Lost my mind, became insane,

Lived 30 years in deep dark dread:

Then, take me Death and make me Dead.

War: AFGHANISTAN

Startzman ·

                          #280

                           Loss

That boys should die so far from home,

Their spirits lost in the wind,

Who can see what they might have become,

Who will forgive if they've sinned?

Not a carriage ride...

Startzman ·

          #237

      Mr. Death

Death sat down beside me

In my ratty little boat

That had sprung a leak beneath me

And would no longer float.

 

"Well, Mr. Death," I said to him,

"Are you here to take my soul?"

"Just your life, you silly man!

Your soul's another's goal!"

 

Analogy or not...

Startzman ·

           #216

        The Finite

The world is but a body

Like the bodies that we are.

The world will die a sudden death,

That future though be far.

 

For me however death feels near;

Ten years sounds like a boast.

The end of things draws ever nigh

And haunts me like a ghost.

"Do not go gentle into that good night..."

Startzman ·

            #206

         Judgment

I used to think, when Mama died,

And she was just past 75,

That 75 was a ripe old age

(Clichés then were all the rage),

To minds so young and shallow;

God indeed might call them fallow.

Acceptable,

I cried.

 

Now that I'm near 75

And find myself still up, alive,

Regarding age, King Lear was right:

Ripeness is all; death is a blight.

While Thomas knew the use of rage,

I fooled myself at my mother's grave.

My shallow mind:

Unripe, unkind.

Matters of the Heart...

Startzman ·

            #184

       Beats per Minute

They say my heart stops often,

Three seconds more or less.

What if it won't start again?

Will-I just be laid to rest,

Put down into the cold cold ground,

Way too soon for glory bound,

Since my life is such a mess?

                 OMG

Goodbye Cruel World...

Startzman ·

              #178

         Heart Failure

My heart is beating wildly;

The Doctors don't know why.

They tell me it stops frequently;

I'm sure they wouldn't lie.

 

If I were not so brave and tough,

I'd probably weep and sigh;

For everybody knows a heart

That stops will one day die.

Existential anxiety....

Startzman ·

            #163

       Real Presence

Death is all around me,

Thinking he'll be fed,

Sitting on my night stand,

Hovering o'er my head.

 

I can smell his evil breath,

Full of foul decay;

Funny how his presence

Makes me stop and pray.

 

God always seems more real to me

When Death unveils his presence;

Though Death himself is preferable

To mindless blank senescence.

First Friday in Lent

Startzman ·

             #92

       The Agony

"Jesus Christ on a Cross!" they said.

Spear in his side, blood bright red,

Face of the crowd, a face of Dread.

 

Nails through his wrists, nails through his feet:

"Come Lamb of God, let's hear you bleat!"

"How do you like this judgment-seat?"

 

One shallow breath, too quickly dead.

Darkness--this holy land o'erspread.

"Jesus Christ on the Cross," they said.