a bevy of death poems (or would that be a murder?)

Death has been on my mind lately, given the recent events at my condominium complex. Then again, as a brooding poet, I have always been enamored with Death as a subject for poetic speculation. Here is a mix of new and old poems on the subject.


in the presence of death

the certain reaffirms life
they fuck or climb mountains
in defiance of the unfeeling body
that awaits them – they tingle
in the knowledge of their place
in this realm – they know
they are meant to be here
and fight to remain as long as possible

the questioning retreat to the bunker
they are most comfortable with
their books or electronic databases
of information – some even consult
the mysterious forces they believe
give a damn about the
corporal beings on this plane
they’re not looking for answers
since those would make them certain
instead they walk on the illusion
of a never-ending path

there is another group – uncertain, yet
unquestioning – who stops when Death arrives
and politely yields the way as they would
for the rushing ambulance or busy busboy

ltv
2/16/10



On the Death of a Catholic Friend

"I'm not afraid," she said despite
the monitors beeping in the night

The Universe -- blasé -- waited
as mortality dissipated
from the sterile human room

Consciousness lingered stately, stoic
as if dying, somehow, were heroic

Silently, her eyes fell closed
from habit as though in repose

lights and echoes down the hall
but, no -- no angels gently called
her home

ltv
9/9/96



Response from a Catholic Friend on Her Death

"I'm not afraid," I said
despite the monitors
beeping in the night

God is present
by my side
waiting for me
to finally decide

Humanity lingers
stubborn, defensive
as if dying, somehow,
were offensive

Silently, I chose to go
to a Universe
I didn't know

Angels came with
my release, but friends
couldn't see
how I found peace

ltv
10/12/06



A Dirge for the Living

At the point of my death
don’t cover my head
Don’t calmly recite:
“I’m sorry, she’s dead.”
Don’t stand in the morgue
for a teary good-bye
Don’t color my face
with lip and cheek dye

When my time has come
don’t bury me deep
Don’t pray to the Lord
my soul to keep
Don’t limit your wardrobe
don’t wear the veil
Don’t accessorize your anguish
with a heart-wrenching wail

When this body is broken
the life slipped away
when words go unspoken
at the end of my day

Don’t order me cut flowers
like lilies in white
Don’t hold vigil for hours
in votive candlelight

Don’t mourn future memories
Don’t weep for this shell
Don’t belittle my life
with “at least she died well.”

Don’t ask God for answers
‘cause he doesn’t know
why -- if you believe in Heaven
you’re sad when I go.

ltv
8/28/96



we accept
death as a job
similar to the ones
we suffer through
a necessity
to make ends meet

we fight death –
a nemesis to conquer
as it stalks victims
we try to stay
one step ahead

but it is neither
apathetic nor malicious
nor the wind that comes
ravaging in a storm

it is the Sun that rises
every day – not because
of some internal motion

but because of our
journey around it

Death itself is static

ltv
9/19/09



For Emily

Sir, please Kindly pass me by
For we have met before
I’ve seen you walking with my friends
or lingering -- at their door

We’ve sat together side-by-side
‘til one of us went home --
to tend to mundane tasks -- put-off
or to inhabit the Unknown

Now this -- Great Hall is bathed in light
the decorations stunning
music teases through the night
Your humble offer -- cunning

But, I’ll not be responding -- s’il vous plait
to your bold invite
you see, my card -- alas -- is full
I cannot dance tonight

ltv
6/27/96
7/26/96(R)



reaching into death
the living must be certain
about coming back

ltv
11/2/09



[untitled]

in the fog of pain
killers pumping
through my veins
I choke -- cough
up this tube

memories of college
drinking aftermaths
spew through my mind
but that was decades ago
and though my aged body
feels just as bad
aspirin won't fix this

I struggle without
the aid of pure oxygen

my father and I
when I was ten
watched fish that we caught
flop and gasp on the floor
of the rowboat he rented

I watched him die too
like my family
is watching me now
how can they do it -- well

it won't be long at least
already their voices and songs
are getting far away

and it feels better
not to breathe

ltv
8/14/08



after the moment

when machines
are turned off
family in a daze
makes their way
past the nurses’ station
an orderly
gently pulls IVs
from sluggish veins
then squeezes a soapy
sponge one last time
before caressing
each part of the body

ltv
5/24/09



The limerick’s no medium for dying
but that won’t stop me from trying
for while it’s grim compose
about the final repose
it’s certainly more fun than crying.

ltv
5/3/00