PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sometimes I hear the ghosts of my past

Often they whisper in my ear

Just out of consciousness

Barely audible, but present

Memories of those gone by

Now immortal in my mind

Forever they'll exist in me

Or at least as long as I live

For we are scars on the membrane of time

Carving our existence deep into it's flesh

Dying to gain immortality

Our existence tantamount to the memories of others

I wish I had the elixir of immortality,

That in the Mahabharata was saved by Mohini!

From the thieving asuras,

And distributed it amongst the Devas.

I wish I could attain immortality,

Safeguarding youth smartly!

I am not foolish like Sybil in “The Waste Land”,

Neither am I over-excited like Tithonus in the end.

I know that immortality is a delusion,

For man it is not an apt solution!

A poem about a mayfly, a rose, an oak tree, a mountain and a star. There is a recorded song version of this somewhere but I think it works much better as poem…….

Above the quiet pool, the dance,
Of passion on one windless day.
For these few hours she'll take her chance,
'til time or trout takes life away.
While dancing where a flower grows,
Her certain end brings fears anew.
Said the mayfly to the rose,
"I'd like eternal life like you."

Time does his work with blunted blade,
On faces filled with beauty fair.
Alas, her petals all shall fade,
And joy replaced with grim despair.
"The bindweed will entwine and choke.
My life will end in days so few."
Said the rose unto the oak,
"I'd like eternal life like you."

The oak stands sturdy, strong and wide.
A thousand years have come and passed.
But none can temper time and tide,
And even she will breathe her last.
"My leaves and branches form a cloak;
While hidden weeping wounds accrue."
To the mountain said the oak,
"I'd like eternal life like you."

A silver stream in this lead land,
Neath angry skies will wash away,
A speck of dust, a grain of sand,
To wear and weaken day by day.
By night cruel frosts will crack and mar;
The hardest stone will split and skew.
Said the mountain to the star,
"I'd like eternal life like you."

A lone star in the dark and cold,
Through distance vast, she shines this jewel,
Through ages that so slow unfold,
Her light falls on the mayfly's pool.
"Some live more in one single day,
Than I in countless centuries do.
Oh, mayfly, mayfly how I pray,
I wish I'd lived a life like you."

To aspire after ones feelings is but a selfish act
To own the world is a dream, a myth of the Ancients
To conquer feelings is to conquer the world
Subject to the world, subject to me.

The seven seas, one ocean, one expedition
thud thud thud, it beats alive
The black spot, deep veins, dark blood.
A quest for eternal life.

Scratching, grasping, holding on
Love's vertical limit, mountainous terrain
In the tower, restlessly asleep
Beauty of the fire breathers.

El rio de la vida

fluye libermente

os y yo

tomar un bano

la mortalidad

a

immortaliy. 

Der fluss des lebens

fliabt frei

sollst du und ich

nehmen sie ein bad

sterblichkeit

auf

immortaliy. 

(c) copyright heather burns

We walk among you, observing every breath.
We feed amongst you, bringing death.
We are waiting for our Queen to return.
To bring forth a new era, so your histories burn.
We are alone, yet we are in numbers,
That is our demise,
For our own immortal flesh, is what we despise.
No companions can ever ease our lonliness,
For we are born of darkness.
And nothing can ever satisfy our thirst
Except to crumble the walls that burst
And to walk among you.
We Are....
 

As my withered body burns.
My blood filled stomach churns.
Sanguine tears fall to the ground.
My soul is lost, never to be found.
I feel my limbs grow colder.
For immortality I fear I've sold her.

The blood boils and tears.
Through her hollow eyes she stares.
Into my hollow soul unsound
Now I sit down by the river bed.
Regret flowing through my head.
But to the night, I am wed.
My body blistered burns instead.
To plight of the ever piercing sunlight.

I long for her even though she's gone.
Still watching me from her cold stone grave.
Her voice, faintly whispers like a song.
However she is free, and not a slave.
To this torturous world of the darkened day.
Now my life is nothing but a bloody cry.
Sometimes I wish I could join her and die.
But my soul is lost and left unsound.
If I was to truly die and placed beneath the ground.
Never again would my weary soul come around..