Bang, crash, boom, squeal!
Shatter, crash, boom, bang!
Grunt, bump, smash, boom!
White feathers fall down.
(That better not have been my favorite pillow.)
BANG, BOOM, CRASH, SHRIEK, CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A figure falls through the floor.
*Grunts and groans*
I walk over.
Well, it looks like my angel arrived.
Dragonfly flits by,
Crickets trilling in tall reeds.
The river giggles.
(A lazy day, whispers)
I really love,
What's not in his words,
The words that aren’t so grim.
The Burial Of Matthew Scott Harris
The undertaker drew deep breath.
He exhaled little billows of cold air
while awaiting hearst carrying my
lifeless body. Prior to death, I took
special pains to select an ideal plot.
A mossy glen with a mill by the pond
of boyhood swimming hole served
the ideal welcome mat for return
of this native son long gone from
his family estate of Glen Elm. Death
struck unexpectedly while dodging
madding crowd jostling glimpse
this renown author, where fame
seemed destined to track me down.
As advocate of countless essays
on inalienable rights for all creatures
large and small, no pause (paws from
hounding local populace offered
peace of mind. Until now. The
prospect of dying never scared
this non-believer. Cessation of
consciousness essentially served
completing life in corporeal
form and reconstituted physical
being into grist for other organisms
to flourish. Karma and glorious
unique characteristic comprising
respective charisma, dogma, and
persona (generally comprising
(a riddle wrapped in a mystery
inside an enigma to the world)
absorbed after contract with
cosmic creator lapsed. Brief
occupancy on terra firmae in
scribed in genetic code (merely
a blink of an eye in universal
schema) gave now deceased
dreamer notion to maximize enjoy
ment of each day. One need
not globe trot (and boast of es
pying exotic places), but could
experience inner harmony by
imbibing present state of mind
fulness. Simple pleasures
abounded in wild or evoked
via creative imagination of
august writers supplied ample
sustenance for satisfaction.
Contemplative and introspective
mien prompted Eros discerning
grand canyon of Mother Nature
in tandem with personal motive
to indulge like-minded thinkers
since beginning of time. Any
given day frequently found thoughts
turning over every figurative jagged
rolling stone, when grim reaper
might spring surprise visit, which
metaphysical thought interestingly
enough gave sigh of relief. Why?
Upon termination enjoying existence
in living color, the eradication, sans
file of pet peeves mine i.e. (anxiety/
panic attacks interwoven with inxs
of obsessive depressive compulsive
behavior), would dissolve into basic
elements of earth, wind and fire.
Marshall matters of non-entity
dimension would assume command.
Those former psychological trials,
would be relinquished from parasite
role recomposing cells of one mortal
man (me) into matter recycled into
raw materiel other organisms feast
upon. Basic constituent cells of this
Homo sapiens would become necessary
seeds for other manifestation (albeit
plant or animal development). Molecular
features would assume novel combinations
thru degradation of flesh, yet improvisation
of biology would wield wasted corpse
that epitomized an articulate, civil,
enumerate, glib, invertebrate, kind
male into novel marvels of unpredict
able genus and species.
The skin breaks, and the
Comes rushing up...
...Rises to the surface
Like volcanos do
Broken skin...broken sin...
Crust and loaded for bear
...Face of Spades, and
A hidden Ace that
Steams with rapid promise
...Can you pick up
What I’m laying down?...
Dare you to
...Broke through the seam
Truck, and saw a
...God I wanted to envoke.
The skin breaks, and the
Comes rushing up...
...Rises to the surface
Like volcanos do
...Vase is broken!...
Veins behind your head!...
...Height of ressurection,
And you scream,
But was it real???...
...Strange how we
That we steal.
Infected with ugly
Last words like a curse.
And aimed to hurt.
I was burned.
You unleashed my inner pen.
You don’t hear
When I spin our sin
In lyrical abuse
Or hold the rope
Around your neck,
Tighten the noose.
You don’t see my wicked grin.
I am not going to lie,
The first time I saw you,
My heart fell in love just a little.
I only noticed the physical.
Much to your disbelief,
You are very attractive.
You have this smile,
Oh, that smile;
It just lights up the room.
With one look,
You could melt a girl’s heart.
And your laugh- well, many laughs-
They are simply magic.
You can produce an abundance of sounds
That are all equally hilarious
It is so easy to notice those things,
The beautiful and attractive parts of you.
And it is easy to fall for them.
But the more I get to know you
And the closer we become,
The farther my heart falls in love.
You have this talent,
Where you can be the stupidest,
Most dorky and funny person.
In a moment,
You can send everyone
To the ground dying of laughter.
You know how to make people smile,
How to make everyone
Feel welcome and comfortable.
But on the flip side,
You can be completely serious and mature.
You offer yourself up,
You offer whatever you can give,
For those you care about.
You give comfort
You have this beautiful,
Open and honest way about you.
When I share my heart,
When I show you my broken pieces,
And all of my darkest parts,
You do not mock,
Or try to fix me.
You do not tell me some generic saying,
Like ‘others have it worse’,
Or ‘look for the silver lining’.
You do not run away
From the demons inside me
That have scared off so many others.
You acknowledge my pain and sufferings,
And you give me encouragement.
You extend your help,
But only if I want it.
Most importantly though,
You are simply
You stand by me.
You offer yourself as a support,
As a hand to hold
And a shoulder to cry on.
I have never before felt so comfortable,
Around another person.
I have never before
Been able to open up so easily,
Or with so little fear or anxiety.
And, I most definitely have
Experienced both of those
With any one single human being.
You are so young,
Yet you understand and see so much.
You are wise way beyond your years.
You know what to say,
And what not to say,
What to give,
And what to not give,
What to do,
And what not to do.
You know when any of those are needed,
And when they are not.
Our friendship started out
Simply as a silly happenstance,
A mostly random add on social media.
Now we are friends.
And, if I dare,
If I am willing to risk the chance,
Risk the danger of getting hurt again,
I would even consider you my best friend.
You saved my life
On more than one occasion.
And, not only that,
Not only have you kept me alive,
But you have helped give me life.
I am no longer just alive,
But I am living.
And I want to live.
I never knew that one person
Could mean so much;
That one person
Could affect so much.
Until I met you.
It has only been a few months,
And I wish it were more.
I wish I had known you
From the beginning.
But I am so grateful
For the time I have been given,
For the memories and experiences
That have changed my life.
I am so glad to have met you.
I am so blessed to know you.
I am so thankful to have you
As my best friend.
It may be hard for some to comprehend, but Death is a woman and so is Life. It is through women that all life enters, so naturally it would be through women that all life exits.
In Judaism she is called Azrael. In Islam she is known as Malak al-Mud. Shintoism has Izanami, the goddess of both death and life.
The Maori have goddess Hine-Nui-te-po. The trickster demigod Maui wanted to make humans immortal, so he transformed himself into a worm. He then attempted to enter her through her vagina and leave through her mouth, thus reversing the natural cycle of birth and death. Hine-Nui-te-po was awoken at once, and crushed Maui to death with teeth inside her vagina. He is considered to be the first man to die.
While many view her in a negative life, she is our liberator. Like how the Hindu goddess Kali teaches us that we our beings of spirit, not of flesh. She liberates us from delusions and false realities. We are freed from our suffering because of her.
Death cannot be reversed, and neither can life. It is fruitless to wish you had never been born, because you are here now. And that is all that matters.
Why do you write?
The easiest and hardest question for me to answer.
Responses swirl through my head, a ton.
Yet, I never seem able to grasp the right one.
Tonight I notice a brand new set
Of stretch marks, running red and jagged and angry
Across my thighs
My tiger stripes, my battle scars, but they
Will only ever be ugly to me
I can’t stand the touch: the raised skin, a shudder of disgust
An embossed card
With none of the elegance, instead the message—
I don’t fit into my own body anymore
The more I struggle with the number
The higher it gets
The smaller the gap shrinks;
The gap closes.
And I daydream of tattooing Shame
Across those tired lightning lines
So they’ll stop the rain coming