I long for a Pauper’s Grave

I long for a Paupers Grave short poem

When I depart the realm of the terrestrial
for the splendour of the celestial,
do not bury my remains in
the valley of the Kings,
for robbers would move
my bones in search of
gold rings.
I detest sharing the glory of the
blue-bloods with them in death,
but I would like my moulded
clay buried in the worm-infested
Earth;
where it would nourish both worm
and field, and help moisture give life to
mother earth’s withered yield.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Joseph C Ogbonna

Joseph C Ogbonna

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Joseph Ogbonna is a prolific Nigerian poet.Hewas born on the 1st of may 1975 in the Nigerian commercial capital of Lagos.He has published two volumes of poetry and a novel, currently on sale in Amazon, Barnes and noble, authorhouse and other bookshops around the World.Joseph is a lover of classical music and opera, and loves to read the Bible and literary works of metaphysical poets.He resides in Enugu, South-East Nigeria
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

12 Comments on "I long for a Pauper’s Grave"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Nupur
Admin

Dust unto Dust..your poem aptly conveys that thought and the simplicity of your writing touches a chord . Nice writing!

Editorial Board
Member

Even in Death, the affluent and the poor retain the marker that separates the relics of their stature. While wealth and grandeur determine the elaborateness of the burial, and embalming practices improve on the miasma of the corpse, the fact remains that the records still carry the stench where things are rotten. And hence, a pauper might still have a dignified place in death when not defiled by ambitious living.

Molly Patton
Member

Your poem painted a picture in my mind. I could see it all. Very good.

Terry Watts
Member

Very nice words.

Meghdutam
Member

@josephcogbonna I call this magic weaving of a thought. The idea is conveyed and it instantly makes an appeal. Pure magic.

Malcolm Massiah
Member

It’s bad enough to be robbed in life, but also in death is the final insult. You’re a wise man.

Loved the poem.

Swathi Rao
Member

Quirky, and some real food for thought.

wpDiscuz

To My Grave

To My Grave long poem

Dark and sinister rain befalling us I know something is wrong, I can feel it in my bones, Catastrophic endless fountain of blood, But faith refuses to panic at all… I will go to my grave as a soldier of

Years Long Past

Years Long Past prose poem

I walk past the old football field, empty, no gladiators, no cheering crowds. PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM WAY BACK! Just echoes of the games once played. Just memories of those standing, watching the turmoil on the

Rise From The Grave

Rise From The Grave long poem

People with greed and selfishness rule this world of umpteen wonder The one who burns within himself for not digesting the prosperity of the other is recognised as a good Human being Living for oneself is not living at all

Just As Long ‘We Are’..!

Just As Long We Are..! short poem

Just as long ‘We are’, together Let us tickle, Let the mind run utterly fickle. Let’s run into the sheer wild, And not let anything be absolute mild. Let’s indulge onto the fantasy spree, And let our almanac be far

The Long March – November 2013 New People

The Long March   November 2013 New People ode

This is an ode to the press. I write a lot of these leading up to publications I care about. This one was unique, I sketched on some boxes, used some spray paint and some sharpies. In the space above