POETIC BLOOMINGS

Established in May 2011 by Marie Elena Good and Walter J Wojtanik, to help nurture and inspire the poetic spirit.

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION – STONY END

CEMETERY

TAKE 90 SECONDS AND LIST ITEMS YOU MIGHT FIND IN A CEMETERY.
AFTERWARD, WRITE A POEM/STORY THAT INCLUDES SOME OF THE ITEMS IN YOUR LIST.
YOUR SETTING IS ANYWHERE BUT IN A CEMETERY!

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13 thoughts on “FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION – STONY END

  1. Earl Parsons on said:

    I tried to write something new, but since writing this one back in 2012, cemetery poems have been extremely difficult to write.

    I Lay Waiting

    Row after row they all look the same
    Fading white marble with name after name
    Grass growing slowly, groomed by the week
    Occasional strangers; other names that they seek
    Lying in wait, no one seeks my stone
    No tears shed for me as I lay alone

    Alone with thousands of souls just like me
    Thousands who fell for the land of the free
    A land that I love, and gave all to defend
    And now I lay waiting for a loved one or friend
    Loved ones or friends that so rarely stop by
    Forgotten I lay here not understanding why

    I sacrificed it all to keep freedom alive
    My spirit cries out with a plea to survive
    At least in the memories of those left behind
    While I lay here waiting, entombed, confined
    Unable to do much more than reminisce
    About family and friends and everything that I miss

    My memory is sharp; my whole life I recall
    From the day I was born ‘til the day I gave all
    Thoughts run willy-nilly always through my head
    My body is wasting, though my mind is not dead
    But now I am saddened as I lay here alone
    Waiting for anyone to stop at my stone

    Earl Parsons
    Copyright © Earl Parsons 2012

  2. City Streets in the Rain

    The grey city streets and grey granite walls
    under a black wrought-iron fence of a sky
    as seen from a misty pane in the bus
    was sending me to a dull, somber space
    but as we slowed to pick-up passengers
    a rainbow of colors and patterns burst
    like candy sprinkles on a birthday cake
    into a flamboyant, jovial place
    amidst this tired, monochromatic sight…
    umbrellas huddled in bright lovely hues
    flowers, angels, and designs caught my eye
    and one stark black in the back of the pack,
    an exclamation mark ending the line.

    Words from the graveyard:
    Granite, black wrought-iron fence, flowers, angels, black umbrellaas

  3. Pingback: At the Bus Stop – Poetry by Debi Swim

  4. Names and dates leave
    blanks in my mind
    more often than not
    these days. Someone
    has put up a gate
    to block thoughts.

    Scents, if not sense,
    are still a joy–rain
    with its earthiness,
    stones stroked by
    tears of the ocean.

    Maybe losing some
    facts along the way
    makes life less
    cluttered.

    (dates, names, gates, stones, tears)

  5. That ending is a clincher. I think it is true. Nice job with a difficult prompt.

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