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Array ( [sid] => 181820 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Last Line Standing [time] => 2015-09-19 17:36:09 [hometext] => A tribute to my friends I've made here [bodytext] => There was a time not so long ago,
I felt so afraid, so alone.
My voice echoed back on me
from barren walls I could not see.

My thoughts; those defining 'isms',
I flung to wind, and chance and wind;
who really cares what rolls inside my mind;
Invierno's inner wild side.

At end of day, or dawn, if you prefer,
we're all alone, like or not.
When grass grows hungry on our bones,
we only live through those who've not forgot.

The worth of this blip we spend
is measured by our funeral's friends;
how many showed to honour, mourn,
sagging shoulders proving sorrow borne?

And can we see (alive) what mark we've made?
No.
But oh, by casket hovering, creepy, ghostly played,
maybe not, but maybe so...
If it comes to pass and for you I show,
be true blue and let me know.
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 69 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => poets )

Last Line Standing

Contributed by Invierno on Saturday, 19th September 2015 @ 05:36:09 PM in AEST
Topic: poets

There was a time not so long ago,
I felt so afraid, so alone.
My voice echoed back on me
from barren walls I could not see.

My thoughts; those defining 'isms',
I flung to wind, and chance and wind;
who really cares what rolls inside my mind;
Invierno's inner wild side.

At end of day, or dawn, if you prefer,
we're all alone, like or not.
When grass grows hungry on our bones,
we only live through those who've not forgot.

The worth of this blip we spend
is measured by our funeral's friends;
how many showed to honour, mourn,
sagging shoulders proving sorrow borne?

And can we see (alive) what mark we've made?
No.
But oh, by casket hovering, creepy, ghostly played,
maybe not, but maybe so...
If it comes to pass and for you I show,
be true blue and let me know.

Copyright © Invierno ... [ 2015-09-19 17:36:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Last Line Standing (User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on Saturday, 19th September 2015 @ 05:54:16 PM AEST
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It is a shame that funerals are for the living. Our lives would change overnight if we were required to throw ourselves a wake at 40 years of age.

There is no more telling testimony to our legacy than the line at our coffin.
softerware

Re: Last Line Standing (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Saturday, 19th September 2015 @ 09:24:48 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

You know,

Your last poem was introduced by those words...
It was good, I this even more.

the ode to things we know, we really know
that never grow; though you know, they should!

There's a grand spirit in this poem, a bit of your soul,
and it's gotta grow you know

And I believe my friend, that it will.

I don't know if I confuse the soul with the conscious
I don't know if I confuse the soul with its attributes of
personal defense

oh, wait, I do know. it's better than the conscious
it doesn't have to be just like walking a line just
to stay alive, confused with emotion

It's much better than that!

Great one!

Peace!

Re: Last Line Standing (User Rating: 1 )
by xHeathenx on Sunday, 20th September 2015 @ 07:43:54 AM AEST
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I'm a bit of an oddball. I think on the level of subconscious I would be upset at someone's passing, but on the conscious level, only a bit discomforted, that is of course just by the idea of it.

Anytime I lose friends I nearly never have significantly hard times saying goodbye. I just want a happy parting of ways, as much as I enjoy people and their company, what emotional and chemical states we provide for one another, and the helping of shaping ourselves is the most incredible thing about what we do and what we mean, at least in my eyes.

Then again sometimes, I get too caught in a pragmatic mind, so perhaps my emotions get caught in a sea of turmoil, and all the while, what's really happening in my mind is replaying and regaling the past.

I like this though. In all honesty, I want not to be remembered by, or to have a funeral, but if anything I want to be remembered for and by, it's gotta be how I've touched that person, and I will do the same for them.

But even still, the reminder is true. We'll never see what truly significant impact we've made on the world, because we won't be here for it.

Re: Last Line Standing (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 20th September 2015 @ 08:15:57 AM AEST
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To freely share your inner thoughts, your memories, good and bad, with strangers, might seem odd to some. But to people driven to write, it is the most natural thing. You are one such person, and I applaud you for it.

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