Poetry Friday 21

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Twenty one that's coming of age. Poetry Friday is an adult. Some grown up poems then. 

The hierarchy of fear

What am I afraid of?

That I forgot to turn the oven off,

or that I left my front door unlocked?

The footfall of a stranger on an ill lit street?

Hearing my lover cry in the night,

when she thinks I’m asleep?

Or being jailed for a crime I didn’t commit?

The feeling that I’m wasting my life

that’s more than half gone?

The tiny hole between the wall and the floorboards

where a penny rolled and I can never get it back?

The utter inexplicableness

of our place in the universe?

Why here? Why now?  Why us?

Is the truth out there?

Or Stephen King novel

that sends shivers down my spine

and is kept at the bottom of the pile

to stop the demons from escaping?

the hierarchy of grief

You're the first to hope the star rests in peace.
You top the hierarchy of grief.

You share a video of your favourite song
And hope the star rests in peace
You top the hierarchy of grief.

You claim the star touched you (but not in that way)
You share a video of your favourite song
And hope the star rests in peace
You top the hierarchy of grief.

You share a video a day for a week,
You claim the star touched you (but not in that way)
You share a video of your favourite song
And hope the star rests in peace
You top the hierarchy of grief.

Your bouquet is the biggest, your name etched in blood
You share a video a day for a week,
You claim the star touched you (but not in that way)
You share a video of your favourite song
And hope the star rests in peace
You top the hierarchy of grief.

You throw yourself beneath the bus,

I look on in disbelief.

I'm hear to tell you
There is no hierarchy of grief. 

Christmas Cards

Receive, open,

Stand, gather dust,

take down,

Throw away.

Join me next week for Poetry Friday 22

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