# For those dealing with death....



## thapoet (Jun 5, 2013)

I know it's not a topic people like to discuss, especially when dealing with the loss of a dear friend and a loved one, but regardless, we still must deal with it... I have written many a poem concerning this topic. I wrote them to help me to deal with death around me, of a few family members, death in general... The first poem I am posting here was to help me deal with the suicide of a girl I loved dearly. A friend and a lover... I found myself sitting beneath an old oak tree in a cemetary in Berwick, La. Sign ng, hating, feeling lost and hopeless... The notebook I had brought with me that night was to be used to write my own suicide letter instead became my first notebook full of poetry. Many of those poems I later published in a collection called "The Teardrop Renaissance- Damnatio Memoraei"... This poem helped me to decide to stick around a little longer. I hope it helps someone else.... 

The Passing
It was as I sat amid the silence
to contemplate the angry pestilence 
of Death creeping 'cross the land 
(and violence dangling from Misery's hand) 
That too my dismay it suddenly became obvious... 

Yes, as I leisured there beneath 
the solitude of the weeping old Oak Tree, 
the barren One, leafless and still, 
together We embraced the frigid Winter's chill
and in contempt, a truth I learned... 

Oh! How the tears so casually fell 
to mourn for the Ones with souls left to sell, 
As Death chose at random Those 
whose disguise allowed there tears not to show... 
To my astonishment, He had overlooked my own soul... 

Death allowed to offer me Life
in the form of heartache and strife-
For as He passed, His glance was cast 
To my painful memories of the loneliest past, 
and too my dismay, He'd force me never to forget... 

Yet I begged of Him "DO NOT not forsake! 
Do not overlook this life you should take! 
Allow me not this horrid life! 
Absolve me of this carcass my soul abides! 
That in my condemnation I should dwell in this loneliness here!!!" 

But He quickly averted too his prey, 
For only Innocents he taketh today... 
Weeping and sobbing with grief
as I sat beneath the sorrow of that sad tree... 
Revelation cleared my dismay, 
even death has passed me by today. 

By Michael J. Richardson


----------



## thapoet (Jun 5, 2013)

And another... As I began my wandering ways in New Orleans, I found beauty and pain, sorrow and shame, and even solitude in confusion.... So I wrote about it.... 

Kneaded 

Folded, like dough in the Baker's hands
down on Magazine Street... 
without knowing my own direction 
(whether I'm needed or not)...
Its hopeless to live in my own devotions! 

If I tell you yes, 
but I really mean no, 
then I have folded you
just as I have been folded
and you become as enveloped as I...

Sure! 
You'll rise
(and make your presense known...) 
You'll get all puffed up believing the lie! 
yet, 
deep down inside 
you'll be just as soft as I! 

After all, 
its not what you put into 
what you knead,
its the care
( and dedication)
that you fold... 
into the soft texture of the heart! 
That is what stays soft,
isn't it? 
The soft and needed heart? 

By Michael J. Richardson


----------



## thapoet (Jun 7, 2013)

And if all else fails, there's always the sanitarium... 


Sanitarium 

The imperial whiteness of the walls imprison me still today, 
And I cry endlessly. 
The heart wrenching, anguished calls
tortured me everyday, and can't forget
Never will... 

The jagged screech of twisting hearts 
angers my passion to tears, 
And I bleed silently. 
The shattered screams of broken minds
fell upon my ears, and I can't remit,
hopeless still... 

Yet I wander,
feverishly,
I cry for them! 
How did I get away? 
I try to forget, 
so eagerly, 
every one of them, 
But the memories refuse to fade. 
The days were long and filled
(with the tranquil breeze of anguish)
There was peace in the pain, 
and I breathe regretfully.
The serenity in the oaks were spoken, 
yet in a foreign language, 
and I hear them now- 
forever will... 

Sobs were wrought 
in the gala of immaculate desperation..
and I remember clearly. 
The beautiful sadness of innocent eyes
that begged for resignation, 
and I see them now,
sadly still... 
I travail in refuge, I lied to them! 
They believed me!
And as I beg for their sadistic embrace
(every one of them) 
they regress... 
Forever nil.

By MJ Richardson


----------



## thapoet (Jun 8, 2013)

l...s...d...

leaving severe dispositions, 
like suicidal dreams
like sailing down, 
losing sacred doubts... 

loving sexy debutants, 
luring seductive desires 
living sensually deviant, 
like sanctifying death... 

lavishly sinful deeds,
like Satan's downfall 
leaving society's development... 

lucid, starved deeply, 
like severed demonic
languages seducing desperate 
lovers souls defiantly 
like silly delving 
little sinners delivering 
lost saints devotions... 

leading seances, doing 
lost sorcerers demands...

leaving spirits dangling
like strings , deeply 
longing, searching, desperately ... 
lurking, sinking deeper
like scathing, damned
little systematic devils
leading social desecration...

launching society's destruction...

living... sinning... dying


----------



## Beegod Santana (Jun 9, 2013)

Bitch niggas owe me massively.
My friends never pay me.

We laughed in the west bound's hot stream out in the hills,
but we never saw that low land flood.

We always had a lot to live for, but taking it for granted would've made it all worthless, so we laughed harder till our voices became as rough as the steel we figured would one day take our lives.

I miss ya kid, I've been pouring you out swills of $8 / tall boy usda certified organic hard ciders every night..
but somehow I feel you'd prefer the vomit of a haight street scumfuc who decided to see if they could live solely off Joose alone.

You fucked up though kid,
and its coming outta your pay...


----------

