Death rattle

* This a poem that I wrote whilst waiting and comforting my mom and my gran before she passed over in March 2018, from vascular Dementia and Alzheimers. I wrote it while waiting for her to let go of Life. It’s a Morbid (and possibly strange) thing to do when someone you love is dying in front of you. This was one way of expressing my powerlessness, over a period 3 days watching someone cling on to this Life).*

Death rattle

Reminiscent of an uprising of crickets ready to battle.
Stare at a puffed updiamond heart
Drumming inside an empty cage.
Birds ripped apart.
Gargoyle stares ignored.
Folk bumble about unaware of what’s in store for us all,
eventually.
The breathe of Hades lingers
then makes a dash for scant flesh and bones.
Meat is not this gods instrument
Lust causes the call for more drones.
Sponge, moisten parched parted lips
Raven signals the ire of its whips.
The ones who don’t loose it in bedlam excite
Death,
Invites all loved ones to rally around
Stands by door.
Stands back a while
Admires its own power.
A moment to savour
Every door closed,
Each breath cloys,
Begs for enough fare to cross the distance to embrace Elysium air.
Today everyone shall know how close we are to parting from brown soil.
Lambs,
Hatched chickens,
Babies born in Cumbersome air.
The cycle must complete before we can emerge reborn.
Death is inevitable as necessary as life is to the Cumbaya of springs first show of petal.
When you look at the beginning of this new dawn,
Know that when you stand back in awe
Its because you have felt the chill of winters soul depart.
Shed a tear for the snowman who brought our youth so much joy.
Appreciate death.
Stare it in the face.
The sun chants
counting his rosary beads.
Tomorrow never dies.
Trying to type something while listening and watching my grandmother dying.
Rasp
Gasp
I support the assisted dying law.
This is inhumane!
A selfish farce.
Happy mothers day,
Wherever you go
Wherever you roam
I hope that it is a place as magnificent as earths revellers make it out to be.

Ma petit fripon. Je t’aims toujours

 

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