a corpse lies in my bed.
bathed in blue light, foggy eyes
stamped on an unmoving head.
it's growing fungus along the spine,
colored in reds, purples - fire and wine.
mushrooms lift from the sheets,
painting a skyline of decay, haunted
by that unearthly blue horizon.
light coming off that small device
embossed in still palms.
a simple, rectangular box, metal and silver
a coffin of it's own kind -
but somehow the picture i paint
is still beautiful, in a way.
we all die a little at night,
it's just the way the world turns.
so why not make death just
a bit more sublime?
we'll be dead a lot longer
than we'll be alive.
The day with no tomorrow
Death is the end of the adventure, the ultimate destination. We enter stage right, born into a world of summer and winter; we exit stage left, departing our body and fading into oblivion. There's a sort of fear of the unknown inherent to humanity, a lingering terror of no longer being, but there's also comfort, if you look for it.
Dying is what makes life so precious. We know that our lives will one day draw to an end, that there will come a day with no tomorrow. We ought to make the most of the time we have, our days are numbered, our moments matter. There's an existential dread that arises when we think about dying, a lingering terror of no longer being, but there's also an exhilaration, if you look for it.
Life and death are deeply intertwined, all living things die, all things that die must first live. This is not good, this is not bad, this simply is. Life brings joy and connection in tandem with suffering and pain, we grow and strive until we can grow no further and strive no longer, and then we rest, we lay ourselves down to an endless sleep. Death remedies all the pains of our lives; if we no longer exist, we no longer suffer. There's a tragic fatalism that follows the thought of the inevitability of death, but there's also a bittersweet peace, if you look for it.
To die is to have been alive, and I am not afraid of death.
When I was younger, trapped in that dark and turbulent mire between the golden days of childhood and the bemused professionalism of adulthood, I longed for death. I had a morbid fascination with the idea of no longer being, because if I no longer was, then I could escape all the sadness and persistent fatigue.
I don't judge my younger self for her fascination, I understand the allure of death. I am still not immune to the seductive idea of eternal rest, eternal peace. I do not view death as something negative, but rather as an inevitable aspect of being alive.
I am grateful for the fact of death, I know that I could not go on living forever. Immortality sounds like a miserable, awful, exhausting sort of existence. My heart beats and I know that one day it will stop, and that will be the day with no tomorrow, and there's a comfort in that knowledge, the knowledge that one day I can lay down my bag filled with a lifetime of memories, I can stop walking forward, I can sit, I can rest.
When I reach that day, the day with no tomorrow, I hope my death is calm and quiet, I hope I am permitted to slip gently into bed, into an endless sleep. If my death is violent and sudden, so be it, that moment will pass, and so will I.
Death is full of life’s unknown measure
In every capacity as it spins, twirls, and revolves
It moves toward an eternal and supposed fulfillment of treasure
To which we will decidedly move and slowly evolve.
We are ever grasping for the brightest light
As eternity looms ahead. Unknown and unbidden
It lingers before our eyes and ears, resplendent in short sight
Of yearnings held deep within our hearts, and many are prewritten.
Shall we move ever onward toward its source,
Feigning an awareness of the encroaching unknown
And lightly traverse along the less traveled course
And with encroaching fear that we’ll reap what has been sown?
Fear nor end may be a thing that seeks to capture and hold us
As we move endlessly toward the surfacing yonder light;
Instead, it may be a peace and surety of nature that combusts
To hold us within a lightly veiled awareness of our plight.
So fear not the newness of death and eternity’s lingering
For in death, we move onward to find the final phase
Our course may end with visual beauty and bells ringing
As our life’s achievements abound within the sun’s rays.
Life will begin anew with bursts of color and bright lights
Toward another chance to begin again, achieve a new start
Allowing us opportunity to make what was wrong now right
As with glee, we soar to new heights and reach for the stars.
Eternity is a quest, an endeavor, and a choice for many
But death will encompass each man within its core.
Let’s hope that for all there remains a vast array of plenty
To enrich our lives with splendor and glory unlike before.
What is Death?
Death is something some people may fear. Some people see death as the end. But I embrace death. Death isn't something to fear. It isn't the end, oh no on the contrary death is just another stage in life. Death is just a portal to be born again as something or someone else. While it is sad, it is just another part of life.
Mamma’s been crying all night.
Big Sister and Big Brother too.
I think Brother is trying to hold the tears back.
I think he’s trying to be strong.
Grandad and Grammy are on their way.
I heard Mamma talking to them on the phone.
She said that he was too young.
Sister said that we’ll deal with the everything tomorrow.
She said for tonight we should just be together.
Everyone’s really sad.
I am too.
I believe in Heaven.
I believe that’s where Daddy went.
Daddy was a good person.
And that’s where good people go.
I think there’s animals in Heaven.
Daddy is probably having so much fun.
He’s running with the lions and playing with kangaroos.
Daddy likes kangaroos.
I do too.
I think Daddy will miss us.
But I think that he’s happier now ’cause he’s not sick anymore.
“Be kind, my little kangaroo”.
That was the last thing Daddy said to me.
I’m going to be kind.
And one day, I’ll get to see him again.
And we’ll play with kangaroos together.
Daddy and me.
Everyone is affected by death. Everyone deals with death in their own way. Death surrounds us, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing. Everything on Earth has a purpose and everything eventually dies. For example, for humans as well as other animals, plants die so that we can survive. Trees die to build homes for us. Without these things, the human race would struggle and die. If the human race were to die out, we would become fertilizer for the Earth, which in turn would feed the plants and trees and other animals so that they can live on. Death is a part of life and it completes the circle. Every species relies on the life and death of other species. Matter cannot be created or destroyed, it can only change.
When you were alive, you were far away. In another city. We could talk whenever we wanted, and we couldn't get off the phone when we did. It felt like you weren't that far, but you were over there. Not close enough.
You weren't able to drive to see me often, because you were tethered by your failing lungs, mom. And your hidden cancer, dad. Here, our obligations restricted our lives, so the distance persisted. The space was always there.
Then you both left me.
I thought the distance between us would suddenly be infinite, but I was wrong. You are closer now than you ever were. You don't live over there anymore. You have taken full residence in my heart. Now I carry you with me wherever I go. And there's enough space in there for the both of you.
Jasper had only a few moments after seeing the car, on the wrong side of the road, before it hit them. He was able to save his passengers, his girlfriend Sonja and her younger sister, by turning the car wheel and getting somewhat off the road, but it was too late for him. He died on impact, and it was very sad for his many siblings, parents, friends, and extended family for a very long time, but it was only shot burst of pain for Jasper, because he then got to move on.
Jasper opened his eyes, gasping as he woke up. Sonja was not there, neither was Antoinette. He knew the crash was not a dream, Sonja was in the co-pilot seat next to him and Antoinette was behind him talking his ear off. However, he was not in his small red car anymore, or even on a road. He was not in a hospital either. He had woken up underneath a tree with grasses and flowers everywhere the eye could see.
"Sonja, are you okay! Am I okay?", Jasper said as he quickly got up. He looked around seeing no sign of the car, Sonja, or Antoinette anywhere. "Sonja, where are we!", Jasper yelled.
"Where are you."It was a man's voice, spoken as if he was speaking while chewing.
Startled, Jasper looked next to him. There was a white rabbit with black spots next to him. "What t..-"
"You mean, where are you, not we. You were the only one that passed on. This Sonja and Antoinette did not pass on with you", said the rabbit as it chewed on a carrot. Jasper stared at the rabbit. The rabbit was wearing black boots and had a black cowboy's hat on its head covering its eyes. There was also a book to its side laying next to a small black knapsack. The rabbit was a regular sized rabbit too, and all its things were proper rabbit sized.
"You can talk,"said Jasper after a few moments of silence. He quickly sat down and rubbed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He looked again. The rabbit was still there.
The rabbit waited until Jasper finished before speaking again. "Yes, I am a talking rabbit. The name is Repsaj, spelled R-E-P-S-A-J, and you are..?"
Jasper blinked a few times, he was talking with a rabbit, a talking rabbit. "Jasper," He said hesitantly as he watched the rabbit finish the carrot. "My name is Jasper, what are you? Where am I, where is Sonja and Antoinette?!" The questions came spilling out, with his volume increasing after every question.
The rabbit held up its hand, paw? "I can answer some of your questions, but give me some time." The rabbit got up, adjusted its hat, and gathered its things, handing the knapsack to Jasper. "As for where you are, you are dead. Follow me, we can talk more over tea." The rabbit walked off.
After hesitating, Jasper followed Repsaj.