All Soul’s Day

All Souls Day short poem

In memory of Malcolm Lowry

It is a time of wind and rain
and in the green wood
the voices of the dead
coagulate and skim this edge of consciousness.
It is a time of heavy-hearted dread.
It is the day of the dead.
And what have we done
Since the last, lingering death?
Nothing, nada, no
The wicked still prosper,
And the rich come and go
And the world spins the same
As ever it did before
And the poor are as they were they before
Footprints in the snow.
And as this fog surrounds us
And the mist is everywhere
Let these hands of merely humans
Meet in this thin air.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "All Soul’s Day"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Editorial Board
Member

Pathos is the one word that comes to mind instantly on reading your poem @John Marks..The sense of hopelessness and futility is overwhelming..Just as the life of Malcolm Lowry would have been for him..Though we would like it if you added an explanation in the comments section on publication of the poem why you chose such a bleak scenario to write about a writer as remarkable as him. would it be because his life was mostly dark ?

Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Member

All I could say is that all is fair in love and war. And that goes for all other things too. It pains me to think of it, but it seems there are hidden reasons for the wickedness, or purpose for the sufferings. Whatever they were, I might not believe, nor I want to know. Thought provoking poem.

wpDiscuz

Imperfect Day

Imperfect Day long poem

Roses are red Violets are blue My day wasn’t perfect And neither were you I fell to the ground I scraped my knee I dropped my books I caught my headphones I missed the bus My phone died I bombed

Doom’s Day

Doom’s Day short poem

The rapture was on prowl to get the believers. You knew what you should not have known about the baby blue. Aphasia, experiences an impulsive violence, beyond the dead. Bionic hands to capture the moment of swapping uremia with swastika.

All Are Dust

All Are Dust ode

You may be a king, you may be a queen, royal blood may flow in your veins, born with a silver spoon in mouth, you may own entire world; still you’re but a dust. Sky may be your inheritance, oceans

One Day

One Day long poem

I never knew that one day would be there When I would ask my existence from you One day I would beg you to apply vermilion on my forehead To name my child, to change my identity.. One day that

Greatest Of All

Greatest Of All english poems

Above all, above the world and the galaxy There is God, there is wonder and hope We have God who cares and carries us away Where joy is always with us Most of all, most of the wonders and glory