|Where Do They Go?
My Grandma slowed down to a stop,
vanished in a wooden box,
we searched the graveyard while the flock,
sinners all, stitched in their socks,
sang onward Christian soldiers.
Folk get old then disappear,
forgotten after twenty years,
when no one searches any more,
their foot prints lifted off the floor,
but where do they go?
The past is airbrushed from our eyes,
its burden passed up to the skies,
but all I see are passing clouds
and not one person climbs back down,
to speak to me.
I think they’ve all been locked away,
as if living was a damned disgrace,
pushed inside some knacker's yard,
beyond the back of random stars,
never to return.
8 Jun 07
Rated 10 (9.2) by 1 users.
Active (1): 10
Inactive (6): 8, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10
(define the words in this poem)
(874 more poems by this author)
Add A Comment:
I really like this poem larry - particularly how it addresses what happens after death and how it links to poems I've read on the same theme by other poets such as Thom Gunn's 'Death's Door'. Your poem stands next to it very favourably - i think you have a well-developed and original poetic voice which comes through well here. I like your mordant humour too.
nice. good incorporation of rhyme, much like your corporation of poetry i assume? with the exception of the free verse.
forgive me, i'm babbling a bit. but, i like this. another great poem. i noticed that you deviate from the rhyme scheme a bit, when you end with a tone that seems much more serious than the rest. not to say it's not serious, of course, as it is, you just end with a rather serious conclusion. and not to say that the rhyme schemes are precise, of course, just that the rhyme idea changes (dramatically?) on that last step.
if i am making any sense at all please move on from this comment. will look forward to other poems you've written, that i might taint with a hopeless bit of praise.
I love your comments . They always fill my day with sunshine.
You're my favorite poet, Larry. :) And this just goes to show why.
AAAWWW SHUCKS you are really embarrassing me.
Larry red faced Lark
For the first time ever (I think), I spotted Larry the chameleon Lark's hand in this.
Another very enticing poem, Larry.
The first two lines especially. This is indeed artfully crafted.
this is the first time i've commented on your stuff. Don't expect any tongue massages of your manly bits or gratuitous stroking of poetic ego (albeit a much deserved and rarely exhibited one) but your poetry is pretty much the bomb and this is one of my favorites of yours. and your productivity, dude... i don't know how you do it, Larry the lyric assembly-line Lark... but keep it up.
I guess I will have to try and change my colors more quickly.
Larry rainbow man lark
Thanks for taking time and trouble.