Poetry Corner

Today's post is from Louise, who blogs over at "Defective Tykewriter" (although the blog is collecting dust once again...).  Louise is a serial procastinator, sporadic writer and is sometimes published.  She offered me a selection of poems but I've decided to print all three.  Over to Louise...



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CHILDREN OF THE TITANIC

They say that the
Souls of dead sailors
Live On as porpoises

And as your bodies
Rotted
In your watery grave

Maybe your soul
Was swimming

And the tears
That you cried
When the last lifeboat
Was lowered

Perhaps they fell
On the faces
Of those you loved

Last kisses of saltwater

And the screams
Of those left behind
Sound so like the gulls

Maybe your soul is flying


BODIES

Rotting he lies
On gentle grass
Stomach distending
Skin black and bloated

Maggots and blowflies
Caress putrid flesh
His fluids staining
The hallowed ground

No burial for him
No discreet grave
Nor polite cremation
But bones gathered, and kept

No ashes to ashes
But corpse to bones
Scientific knowledge
Revealed like intestines

On the body farm
The dead are decaying
Pioneers of the forensic world

THE DAY THE BARKING STOPPED
(
a.k.a. how to tell a four year old the dog died)

At peace - I said
Not in pain anymore
It's like being asleep
For a very
Very
Long time.

The park was bleak
I was in tears
She was silent.

She's in a better place
I said
And she was very
Very
Old

(Older than Grandad)

And it's okay to be sad
I said
Death is a very sad thing
I said,
Wiping the tears away

She looked at me
I can't open my sweets
She said.

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