Tag Archives: Death

GUEST POST // Reflections: A Walk-Through Life by Tessie

When the last grain of sand finally falls,
through the cracks of the hourglass,
I hope it finds me grateful, content,
having lived a life that’s truly been mine.

With no regrets, I’ll cherish memories:
breaking rules, stealing smiles, and free.
I jumped the gun, fell deeply in love,
and watched sunrise, euphoric and above.

On rooftops, I danced with morning dew,
felt life’s pulse, and let my spirit renew.
My time’s been filled with laughter, tears,
and moments that dispel all fears.

When my hour’s up, I’ll greet death’s gentle keeper,
with cheer, and finally, eternal sleep’s whisper.
I’ll ask to haunt old libraries’ hallowed halls,
play with the clouds, and hear their gentle calls.

Till then, I live. I laugh, cry, smile,
at life’s beauty, and it’s worthwhile.

by TESSIE
© All rights reserved 2024

social contract

have you ever felt
that your life is mortgaged
from the very first cry?

they squeeze your persona dry
they gain interest from everything
starting with your imperfect reflection
and its teenaged acne
ending with a type of upholstery
on your second-rate coffin

and nothing really belongs to you
except a nightingale’s song
that reverberates outside your window
every single night

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

hush hunting

a sound with the force of cotton on skin
the sigh of a newborn sprout leaving its seed
fish tail swishing beneath the crescent waters

hush, careless hunter
you’re the thorny crown of evolution
creeping between the boughs in tuonela

shod with the intemperance of steel
girded by the rapacity of gold
leaden with the dullness of expectation

hush, warless hunter
your former life lays in smithereens
far from the sun in the lap of louhi

and you’re doomed to ghost in the shadows
until the end of days or ebb’s white never
ears leery to the thrum of nature’s quiet demise

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Frog Who Wished To Be As Big As The Ox. by Jean de La Fontaine

There was a little Frog
Whose home was in a bog,
And he worried ’cause he wasn’t big enough.
He sees an ox and cries:
“That’s just about my size,
If I stretch myself – Say Sister, see me puff!”

So he blew, blew, blew,
Saying: “Sister, will that do?”
But she shook her head. And then he lost his wits.
For he stretched and puffed again
Till he cracked beneath the strain,
And burst, and flew about in little bits.

by JEAN DE LA FONTAINE (1621-1695)
Public Domain Poetry

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Few Lines On Completing Forty-Seven. by Thomas Hood

When I reflect with serious sense,
While years and years run on,
How soon I may be summoned hence –
There’s cook a-calling John.

Our lives are built so frail and poor,
On sand and not on rocks,
We’re hourly standing at Death’s door –
There’s some one double knocks.

All human days have settled terms,
Our fates we cannot force;
This flesh of mine will feed the worms –
They’re come to lunch of course!

And when my body’s turned to clay,
And dear friends hear my knell,
Oh let them give a sigh and say –
I hear the upstairs bell!

by THOMAS HOOD (1799-1845)
Public Domain Poetry