Tag Archives: death

sangria

sangria’s glass as yet half full

a quiet expanding red stain caressing her chest

perhaps all is for the best

her violet orbs fixated upon Orion’s stoic diamonds,

as if glancing accidentally upon some

forbidden forgotten Abrahamic sacrifice…

such is the sanctity of her life.

sangria’s glass as yet half empty…

vibrant, sprouting, spawning, wandering, magnificent

flower,

no roots to speak of

no one to love

not one to even care…

a simpleton expatriate solitaire

turned back to a black lumpy dust..

her station in this society gone mad

a dreamer imprisoned in the linear

a circle shoved rudely in that of a square.

her hands move soft!

a moment.. and then STOPS!

her mouth opens

as if one more sentence

refused to resist the temptation

to stumble out…

at that moment

her soul drowned

instantaneously, sacrificially

her loss, the precious cost

of a dream over-ridden with frost;

her vessel long ago traversed

the long awaited trip

upon the River Styx…

a crossing over to the other side

an escape from madness to madness

a journey made in suffering and sadness,

the river beneath kept alive

thriving upon tears of mortals

whose friends and foes

have been fated ultimate fears.

a jeer, a sneer, a leer..

each one will cost you an extra year

here.

How can that be

you ask

when here is eternity…

even eternities have limits

unfathomable to our minds,

uncomprehending miniscule thoughts,

mere parasites in the soulful existence

of the world.

sangria, the prime example

a lonely beautiful mistress

vanished and gone;

disappeared without a tear

secluded, sainted, annonited,

holy was her head.

i say was because now

now she is dead.

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anaerobic

there are creatures among us

simple creatures

which thrive without oxygen.

without air.

 

they exist, persist, move, dance,

as if thrown into a death trance,

all without a single breath.

 

the scent of a rose

freshly blossomed leaves

newly cut grass

the aroma of a spring rain

or the spray of the salty ocean mist

will never surround them,

hold them,

comfort them.

 

deep breaths

shallow breaths

excited breaths

will never

cause them to pause,

struggle to live,

fight the coming collapse.

 

for they live without

their entire lives.

 

what if they inhaled deeply

for just a second –

the scent of a newly blossomed rose

covered in dew drops

on the back freshly cut grass?

 

would they ever go back?

fail to breathe ever again?

deny the beauty they now know

surrounds them?

 

or would they be trapped in our world,

filled with oxygen until they burst,

a death-filled curse?

 

Shaking, shuddering, clutching

tight the beliefs of what once was

only to be forced to live in the

beauty of what is now,

fighting the ever growing out of control

downward spiral

as their lives filled with air

beautiful yet tragic,

entranced with the magic.

 

dizzy, spent, exhausted,

fearful yet anticipating

even welcoming the coming death

much as a sleeping caterpillar longs to

burst forth from her chrysalis,

live for three days,

spreading joy and beauty,

only to finally collapse,

lost, forever.

 

one breath,

one life,

one joy,

gone too soon,

beauty formerly unknown

brings them to

their knees,

forcing them prostrate on the ground,

unable to fight the dizzying array

of intoxicating scents, senses, emotions.

 

so they fight,

trapped in a death-dance,

wishing they could break free,

wanting to do just one thing –

without fear of losing all they know forever –

breathe.