Tag Archives: dead

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Cat and the Poison

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I don’t believe in a hell or a heaven

I don’t believe in any of the three thousand plus gods which meander through the minds of man now or ever have throughout the ages.

I do believe we are an important inception point in Earth’s history, but perhaps even that is a vain course of thinking of our human condition.

Time will tell if we are but a fundamental fantastical failure waiting to happen or something more than we even suppose.

Ah, but there’s the rub. How ever are we going to truly know the outcome of us?

Time is a far-flung thing.

It cannot be curtailed or cut, bought or borrowed, it can only be endured, we are self placed into a closed box with a flask of poison like Schrodinger’s cat but instead we are the cat and also the very poison that may kill us inside as we are closed inside with it, us.

Eventually or not at all, are the only two outcomes.

It’s not for us to know, for we are dead and alive at the same time and the poison just sits with us in that box looking more menacing but delicious with every day we sit with it.

By Philip Wardlow July, 2024

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Los Muertos Walk ( and Dance)

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muertosA

With a dead eyed sneer and tip of his hat, the corpse

of the man shambled  back,

 to his grave before

morning became

too painfully bright.

A body long dead and done

 with a soul withered at the roots

 should not stray

too far from home.

Ah, but he had heard the horns playing

as the music called to him.

“Come dance, come dance!”

So he had, and delighted in the energy

that lay purchase to his desiccated feet

as he flew and flew

to twirl and twirl a lady or two

as a kaleidoscope of colors robed him

and smothered him from Death’s  view

that  could not find him.

When the last note had ended, Death

finally crooked its bony finger.

So, he crawled back into his grave

and let a small smile come to creep

  knowing he would return when the

band called again…

by Philip Wardlow 2016

 

30 Days of Halloween Poem Challenge, Inquiring Minds

Life in Death – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem#27

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SkeletonLight

Death appreciates life , just as life appreciates death.

Both are impartial to the other.

A cold touch caresses the

beauty which flits to and fro

with seemingly

chaotic intention.

How are we are to interpret the horrors of this vitality

when we ourselves are trapped in a purgatory

of our own design?

Perhaps a small light

shall lead the way for each of us

in our final hours as we lay

in our deep dark

grave.

By Philip Wardlow

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

My Beautiful Dead Girl – A Poem

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Haunted eyes

wrapped in misery.

You are already dead,

so why should you feel pain?

 

Pain is your purgatory

little girl, a grand gift

from scales that can never

be balanced in your favor.

 

Haunted eyes they may be,

but I see defiance, strength,

lingering deep, always

ready to rise to the surface.

 

Never did death look so beautiful

A perfection in form chiseled

from stone beaten up and torn

down by the elements.

 

You wear your cloak well,

dark and tear stained, wrapped

tight around a body that

still flies free.

 

You are my beautiful dead girl.

with cold hands clenching tight around

a warm heart

that beats just for you.

by Philip Wardlow