“43,099,200 minutes- the freedom that comes with the realization that death is inevitable”, by Dan Mansutti
i saw a grave of a mother and daughter buried side by side
and the dead woman asked me for a dance, I had to oblige,
she saw the living through my eyes, and touched my life line
.
she had her mouth widened into an unabating smile,
a beaming mien that sculpts her into a haunting device,
she susurrates words of the olden times, her garb contrived
from plant vines, her pearl necklace shriveling, her bones cackling
.
she has lived after death, to nurture the venom of her spite,
her dead dreams are where the worlds collide, the living dies
and the dead is alive, she hands me a note engraved on earth,
she buries me in her grave, and I evanish from her sight
.
into the realm of the living, but still dead when I am alive,
or alive only in death, her voice subsides, I decimate my life line
.
Inspired from dVerse Poetics.
yikes….this started off very welcoming…and I was intrigued by the dance with the dead…and then he whispers became a bit dark…putting you in the coffin…the message engraved in the dirt was a really cool touch as well….nice piece man…good to see you…
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do make sure you link in…as others should def read this…smiles.
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oh you had me between shivers and shivers here… the dance with her and how the borders blur a bit…
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I think the unrestful dead will come back.. a real Poeish ghoststory that just might follow me into my dreams.. but maybe that’s a purpose with ghosts…
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Hello Anmol, happy to see you writing. I thoroughly enjoyed this, as I do like ‘the macabre’. Like the way she called for you, very nice, though sent a few shivers, which was the aim! Smiles. Hope you are well.
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The ending with the dead being alive and the living being in the grave was an eerie touch which gave the poem an eerie touch & took the reader by surprise.
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Your poem made me think of the cultures where the dead are never really dead but part of the lives of the living, all part of a macabre dance.
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that message engraved was really rad… Death sometimes wears a mask to pull you in… great write my man; thanks for linking up
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Touching and meaningful, as always. The ending brings back alive a bitter truth,
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Goodness this a good write HA ~ I specially love the third stanza:
the living dies
and the dead is alive, she hands me a note engraved on earth
Thanks for linking in and wishing you happy week ~
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Eerie and a good write.
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beautiful, I was totally struck with relevance especially with the artwork, as it is my friends, what a small world we live in, love and light!
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Hello-
I like the poem and I’m glad you appear to like my painting as well- It’s themes of the realization of mortality, the futility of fearing death etc…seem to sit well alongside your writing.
The title of my painting is “43,099,200 minutes- the freedom that comes with the realization that death is inevitable.” Thanks for the link to my blog.
I’ll be interested to read more of your work…
cheers, Dan
http://www.danmansuttiartist.blogspot.com
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This is chilling and poignant and heartbreaking all at once…. Well done!
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–What they said; & it is nice to bump into you once more out here on the trail; this is so very eerie, surrealist, fatalistic cool; like the
line /her dead dreams are where the worlds collide/.
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From the beginning, the dance with the dead woman really pulled me in. Haunting yet beautiful. I like the line, “she hands me a note engraved on earth”….wow, of course she did! 🙂
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“she has lived after death, to nurture the venom of her spite,
her dead dreams are where the worlds collide, the living dies”
This is brilliantly done and I loved the close too – quite a contrast of living and dead.
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i think grave yards.. and funerals teach us much.. a relief when leaving that some folks do avoid.. all together.. but to be reminded of death and all the possibilities of life.. can truly be..
a path to and of..
life…
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Love the dark twist . . . especially love this stanza
she has lived after death, to nurture the venom of her spite,
her dead dreams are where the worlds collide, the living dies
and the dead is alive, she hands me a note engraved on earth,
she buries me in her grave, and I evanish from her sight
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“into the realm of the living, but still dead when I am alive,”
Loved this! Amazing imagery throughout the poem, I felt like an eye-witness (thankfully I am not!)
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what a vivid sketch of the enchantress!!..keats’s la belle dame sans merci comes to my mind…
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What an awful, eerie dance!
janet
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Wo! A haunting fable in more ways than one.
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Oops, that was meant to be ‘Wow!’
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mordant! ~
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