I Awoke Dead

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  • Dark Poetry

    I Awoke Dead
    I awoke this day
    Only to find that
    Sometime
    During my sleep
    I died

    Strange
    I don’t remember;
    Dying; that is
    Sometimes
    Things just happen
    I guess

    Don’t
    Quite feel; well
    Dead I spoze
    Course then I
    Ain’t never died before
    So I ain’t quite sure how
    Bein dead is spoze
    To feel
    But dead is what
    I am

    I use
    To magine it would be, well;
    Winter-time cold
    Being dead that is
    Or hell[fire hot
    Specially for us
    With nefarious histories and
    Shady pasts

    Yet my death
    Seems to be cloaked
    In the cellophane of
    Emptiness, darkness and numbness
    All blending effortlessly
    Into the morass of
    Broken dreams and
    Self-told lies

    For Death is
    The nothingness of life
    Scratched into the “Chalkboard” of time
    With broken finger nails and
    “Bleeding-mascara” eyes
    That stare in empty disbelief at the Promise of Heaven
    Bellowed by the Sirens that rage from within
    Each shattered mind.

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    dancinghawk commented on I Awoke Dead

    10-18-2009

    like your rhythm and your exploration ... "winter-time cold / ... / Or hellfire hot" ... and "the cellophane of / Emptiness" ... wow, what a powerful image that is ... digging deep ... thx for posting!
    Reply to Comment

    susanismith commented on I Awoke Dead

    07-17-2009

    Your vocabulary is amazing and the metaphors spetacular...you give image to words so people can see and sense not just read them. "For Death is The nothingness of life Scratched into the “Chalkboard” of time"...loved that line along with the bleeding mascara (mournful)...Great Job.
    Reply to Comment

    Sophialaurenea commented on I Awoke Dead

    07-01-2009

    WHAT LOVE MEANS TO ME What love means to me are people letting me be me. Love is listening quietly and carefully. Love never dies. Love means sharing your apple pie. You must be patient and kind. Please, Let's have a conversation while we dine. Love is being supportive and always being on time. Love means giving your last dime. Love enhances. It gives chances. Love recants. Love enchants. You can make your own glove, but this is my definition of love. Boy! I have given you a break from my poems. Today, I will start telling Mrs. Catherine Alvarze personal business that she entrusted me to keep. Unlike her I will not add negative comment or lies. Mrs. Alvarze first told me that she was rape by her ex-boyfriend named, Harlod . Since I witness a rape and murder; when I was four; I truly empathized with Cathy. We became best sister friends. I treated her with my food stamps and so did she. She brought me roller blades, CD player, CD'S, hygene stuff. I used her email to help out with the twenty job searches that she needed for her welfare. It was a good friendship I assumed foolishly because slowly, surely I began not trusting Cathy. And I informed of her of my feelings. When I found toe nails under my clothes that was under my mattress at MSC South shelter. I distance myself from Cathy since Simone stated "Maybe Cathy did it as a joke." Shortly after, I discovered that Cathy told my personal business to all the female clients, staff at MSC, staff at St. Anthony and staff at Glide. She told them I was spiritual gifted. She made fun of me saying I was crazy, evil and a fraud. Then, she accused me of changing her password to her email. She accused me of stealing her credit card. She accuse me on looking on the computer to get her social security #. Now, I notice a pattern with Mrs. Alvarez she framed Harlod for rape. He is doing patrole because of her lies. She is trying to do the same to me. She can't handle people's rejection.
    Reply to Comment

    JEAGLEFEATHER

    07/17/2009

    I can understand your pain; but what has this to do with mypoem? This site is for those who write and/or read poetry; not for this diatribe. If you simply need to vent; there are sites just for that. If you are using this site to ruin someone's supposed misdeeds; again, there are better sites than this. I do understand your pain; I do empathize with you; however, I would say to release it, move on; I am sure that "they" have. PEACE Justin

    lightcourier commented on I Awoke Dead

    02-16-2009

    A little too strongly moralistic at the end for my tastes but I do like your writing
    Reply to Comment

    ivecute77 commented on I Awoke Dead

    12-12-2008

    NOT ONE OF YOUR BEST SO FAR BUT GOOD.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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