Tag Archives: death

Gathered in Requiem

Crows huddle in their blackened shrouds

A treasured box of bones to behold

With fluttered wings they flounce and flow

Their lives tethered to stringed souls


Council leads the ghastly meet

The murder sing songs of fading remembrance

A requiem soliloquy so carefully laid

Words delivering life’s sweet vengeance


Wet beaks and muttered parochial verse

The only sustenance offered

As washed out eyes take in the scene

A memory of love once suffered


Lowly clouds gather above

Witness to one more ending

The ebb of life once fast and free

To heaven or Hades, now sending



Copyright held by Eloise De Sousa (2017)



Kennings At Monday Coffee

Have you ever heard of a Kennings poem? Continue reading

Weekly Poetry Challenge

Colleen, the Fairy Whisperer, has shared her weekly poetry challenge, which is open to everyone. 

“Welcome to my contribution to my Weekly Poetry Challenge, where you can write your own Haiku, Tanka, or Haibun using the prompt words of “soar and wait.” Colleen Chesebro, The Fairy Whisperer 

This week, I thought I would dabble with tanka poetry for my contribution.

Following the instructions I have created my tanka using the 5-7-5-7-7 rhythm and the prompt from above: soar and wait.

My Soul

Give it a try and leave your links in the comments or on Colleen’s post. 

Is It Time?

Brush the crumbs from your surly face

Wipe the sweat from your brow

Tear the bands of disgrace

Is it time to say good-bye?
Wash your hands filled with regret

Stain the sheets back to white

One less moment to be discreet

Is it time to say good-bye?
Release my hand before you go

Tell the loved ones your surprise

Herald out to all those you know

If you think it’s time to say good-bye
I will stand here in the sand

Watching time tick by

Fading bit by bit as each day  washes away

Wishing I had the strength to say good-bye
As we sit and share this last meal

Heating ourselves on loves’ dying embers 

Memories locked on our current world of fantasy

As we both finally say good-bye


Book Tuesday

I may not be a Book Thief

As I watch the bloodied sands

Of time connecting destiny

To the evil of man,

A Girl On A Train may be the last face

I see this mournful night.
As we bid farewell to the children,

Their future now in hindsight,

A wishful dream of peace lays derelict

As I count the grains and cry. 


Patterns. Soft shadows combining to make static fleeting memories of times now lost. Links once strong now severed with age and corrosive words. Excitement for the slightest smile passes through the cracks showing in aging façades, losing their enthusiasm as the patterns fade.

Gone. Tastes of laughter so succulent and enticing once upon a time now flavoured vanilla. The fast beating heart thrusting lusty thoughts of life and love but a distant memory, a pattern, a shadow now gone. 

Forever. Remnants of who we are remaining like flotsam in an overpopulated river praying for our removal. Young eyes watching, learning then dismissing our entitlement to life, to love – to be. In the end the days are counted till we depart as the days were counted for our entry to this world. A comical circle of shadows painted in a pattern of memories that will fade with time, forever.

Monday Coffee and a story

Welcome back to Monday Coffee.  Take a seat and pour yourself a glass of something while I line up the story for tonight.

Our main course tonight is a simple dish of glad-I’m-better served with a side of sickness left over from the weekend. After spending most of it in bed with a horrible cold, I am happy to announce that my voice is back, albeit a little huskier than usual, and I can now walk without tipping over like a drunk! My wine of choice is a rather old medley with warm undertones and a rich flavour of butterscotch. I don’t know if you’ve tried it before – it’s called Cavornia Cough Medicine. Have a swig. It goes well with the coughed up lung.

Now that the main course has been digested and all germs are out of the way, let’s get to the sweet part of our meal: the story.  Today’s little tasty treat is based on my favourite – death. I favour it because it’s a constant. You can be more sure about death than love, politics or taxes. And it never lets you down when it says it’s coming to get you. So, with the mood set and taste buds tantalised, I present…

 “I will be with you forever.” 

The biggest lie. The lie that constantly sent me over the edge whenever I heard it.  There he lay, weak and expiring, his watery gaze upsetting. Where once lay a virile Adonis slaying my fears and chasing rainbows with voracity, a fragile fallen warrior smiled in his place; the toothless grin repeating words that aggravated me the most: “I will be with you forever.”

“You lied, you fool. I’m going to be all alone. You will die and I will be left here without you. Why Auri? Why?”

His laboured breath slowed, the steady rhythm broken by an intermittent rasp. My heart skipped.  A release of adrenaline shot through my muscles, making me leap from my comfortable armchair facing his bed to a sentinel position next to his frail form. Dry mouthed and shaking, I reached forward to touch his cold hand and checked his pulse.

“Auri?” I whispered. 

Only his raspy breath answered. 

“Auri?” My voice trembled.

A slow smile spread across his thin lips. “I’m still here my love. I’ll never leave you.”

The clocked ticked away the seconds it took for me to grit my teeth and contain my anger. This man, this incorrigible giant had filled my world with his presence for over fifty years. Our family had only consisted of the two of us, children being out of the question. But we were enough. 

With the world as our playground we had travelled and drunk in the beauty and wonder around us, never stopping long enough to miss the people we met along the way. Too engrossed in ourselves, was the common accusation thrown over our lifestyle, but we didn’t care. Ours was a life of greater depth and purpose, allowing ourselves to stay almost innocent in our love for those around us. After all, it’s hard to disappoint someone if you’re never there!

The ticking seemed to slow, mimicking the sickening rasp of his hollow breath. Trickles of smoke slipped under the door, dancing between the relics that showcased our life, our love. Shadowed plumes puffed clouds of grey across pictures of Auri and me climbing mountains, dancing on sunset beaches and carrying a myriad of exotic animals.

My eyes filled as Auri’s limp hand slipped out of mine. His stillness left the room empty and I could feel the agony of being alone creep stealthily towards me. Anguish engulfed my heart, wracking heaving gasps as I refused to replenish my spent breath. I choked on my tears, feeling the burn of the thinning air. 

You see, the sickness caught us by surprise. We had no time to think of cures or plans for the future. We never did anyway. Our lives were lived for today. And so, when his diagnosis pin-pointed only a few weeks to live, I had to come up with a plan of my own, something to stave off the darkness. It was working.

Fingers wrapped around us, covering us in a shroud so beautiful and mystical. It’s deadly beauty hid the loneliness that would have awaited me once they found Auri’s body. Slowly, I climbed into bed next to him, holding  him as I had done for so many of our years together. I could feel his cooling body yield to mine and we lay in silence. Even the clock dared not disturb our peaceful slumber. 

As the room grew warmer, I smiled and kissed him for the last time. Flames licked at the walls and made the paint squeal. All the memories we shared were going with us in my specially planned funeral pyre. The house was ours to burn and with no dependants to fight over the ashes, we would exit this world as we had entered it, rich in love not money. 

My eyes felt heavy and as they drifted closed, I swear Auri was there, dancing among the flames, beckoning to me. 

He didn’t lie after all – he was waiting for me in forever.

Thank you for joining me for Monday Coffee with a story. Join me tomorrow for Book Tuesday where I will be showcasing one of my children’s books and a book review of a crime romance.

Have a great evening.

Monday Coffee

Picture this:

You’re sitting at the coffee house, Mihran’s house band is playing and Harry is reciting some of the poetry from his blog. In walk your three favourite people in the whole world (these are the shiznits; the people that make you wake up in the morning and smile because they are still on this planet with you). The barista calls out your order and you find a larger sofa, snug enough to accommodate the three and big enough to allow your elbows to reach for coffee mugs steaming with your favourite beverage.

Suddenly, one of the three favourite people in your world disappear. Poof! Just like that. Forever.  What would you do? Would you go searching for the one or watch over the two that remain next to you, upset but safe. The music plays on and the poetry takes a sombre tone. You don’t mind because in your head, you’ve lost someone that captured your heart at some point.

Now if you decided to run out and find the lost soul, your journey takes a sad turn. You end up close to the river that runs alongside the lane leading out from the coffee shop. Though the stars are there to witness your heartbreak, there is no-one to comfort you as you’ve left the coffee house. You can turn back. It’s up to you.

If you have decided to stay in the coffee house, your special two hold onto you as you confess how much it hurts to have lost one of them. They take it in turns to reassure you that they will be there for you and will comfort you in your time of sorrow. But…(you know where I’m going with this)…Poof! Another special someone disappears leaving the last one remaining. What do you do? Follow the same path as before or choose differently now that you know how the loss feels?

For those who run out after the lost soul, the same rule applies as before: you end up by the river, alone with the stars, weeping into the dark waters that don’t stop for time nor sorrow. Return to the coffee shop or go home, alone.

Those that stay and hold onto their last remaining special someone, you know what’s going to happen. I confess, it’s like playing Russian Roulette. I could lie to you and say your special someone is safe in your loving arms, never to be taken away, but life isn’t like that, is it? Just as you recover from one loss, another special person disappears from your life and leaves you bereft. Maybe I am too cynical for some, but reality bites. Shit happens. We all die.

In all honesty, I am that someone sitting on the yellow sofa, hugging onto my special someones. Each day, I watch them either disappear or someone close to them go and it hurts. It might not need to affect me directly, but their pain indirectly hurts because we all know what it’s going to feel like.  It’s similar to taking your firstborn to their first round of vaccinations. You know that it’s inevitable and a necessary part of life, but you want to cry before the needle has even appeared!

My waffling today is driven by another loss; another person left this world and with their parting, a gaping hole appeared in the ether.  I hope I don’t lose you – any of you, but I’m not naive enough to believe that you won’t go at some point.  We all do, one way or another. At least, in this world, when you go, I know you will still be living on the same planet as me – maybe not following me and supporting me, but breathing and loving and eating.  That for me is enough.

As I lift my mug and salute you, I thank you for being here, in my coffee house with me and sharing my madness. For after all, aren’t we all a bit crazy to believe we meet for coffee in the ethereal world? Maybe. Maybe not.



Death Becomes Her

“Why?” she whispered more to herself than to the shadow. It moved, shifting around her bedraggled body. “Why me?” she asked, a whimper distorting her words.

“I come where I am called,” it seemed to say as it swayed to and fro. “It’s nothing personal.”

It felt personal to Emma.  She didn’t want to die – death had been the last thing on her mind earlier that day when David had finally asked her out.  She had her A’ level prom dress on order and shoes to die for hiding at the back of her cupboard, just waiting for their debut.

The shadow stilled. It was time. Darkness enveloped her mind, permeated her soul. She shivered as a last boost of adrenaline coursed through her veins, burning her insides as she twisted and struggled for breath. Silence.

Sad news of Emma Watson’s death hit the school. Staff and students alike were shocked by the news and mourned the passing of such a wonderful young lady.

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Dear Reader,

I am reporting to you live from the most incredible country, Australia! The weather has warmed up considerably since its first frosty reception (probably to acclimatise us) and we are now experiencing days of pure sunshine bliss mixed with cool evenings.

There is no way I could invite you over for a coffee because the drink of the day would have to be a cool drink, cold beer or crispy wine. Once you’ve chosen you’re poison, come sit next to me by the pool.

I have a secret to share with you – not a nice one. Yesterday, I think we missed the Grim Reaper by a hair’s breath. I don’t know if you caught the report on the accident at one of the local theme parks on the Gold Coast, a terrible tragedy that took four lives. We were supposed to be at that theme park and when the tragedy occurred we would have been there. It was only by providence that we missed the time slot and decided to forfeit our day at the park, driving past it and going to the beach and shopping centres instead. 

As we lolloped amongst the waves, the news hit the headlines and we were struck with disbelief. Our family is large and the probability of us being on that ride would have been very high. The seriousness of this has stayed with me all night and I had to share my worry with you today. You see, when I travel with my sprogs and Hubble, I always guesstimate the probability of us dying in some freak accident.  As I drive down unfamiliar motorways, I keep a wary eye out for the Reaper, in case he has one of our names on his list.

It’s a morbid way of looking at life, I know, but we can’t live forever. It’s just hard to accept that one of us might not get to see a full life. Maybe.

Anyhoo, shaking off my morbid coat, I can officially re-declare my love of Oz and it’s inhabitants. The place is a mixture of Zimbabwe and England, taking all the best weather, space, technology, infrastructure and  design to create a eutopia that most crave. As we sit sipping our chilled drinks, soaking up the rays and twiddling our feet in the crystal clear water, I’m sure you’ll agree that this is a life we should aspire to. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to count our last days on earth in this place, or another like it. We will see what happens.

Well, I’m ready to go in for a dip. The thermal heating has cracked the cold barrier on the water and this sun is baking my shoulders. Fancy joining me for a swim?