Posts Tagged ‘grief’



I can’t find you anymore
and there’s a landslide in there.
Our feet don’t touch the runway and
I never thought I’d say this but I miss
the three-hour plane rides between you
and home. I was a coffee drinker back
then, addicted to caffeine and your
fingertips. An amateur artist on flights
drawing compasses with hearts and
poems. I was the first blind mouse of
three, and I knew your culture loved
threes, three graces, three gorgons,
three furies. Signs of unity and trinity
but we lost these. You’ve been
consuming my metaphors lately and
I’m not sure when it happened but I
can see the Greek alphabet hand-drawn
on my bones. You are a skeleton
without a resting place and
I can’t find you anymore.



When death took you, you refused
to go quietly. Sirens echoed in the pit
of your stomach and poetry written
about you crumbled like your history
and architecture. We don’t see much of
your sunshine anymore;
we dig your grave and attend
your funeral but those around you
rarely mourn you. We have swallowed
everything you once were, the paradise
of our Grandfathers and now we
like no man who ever stood before you,
find solace in your decay.

There’s no peace here anymore, only
shopping trolleys in creeks, but to you
I give a bouquet of everything you
once were, the rainforest will
nip at your corners and shells
and bones will no longer hold you.
You will be filled with nature and
all it’s splendour. I will colour your skin
like your founders and with
flora and fauna I will no longer
grieve but rather
celebrate your life.

Unanderra = My hometown



I have written about loss like
my body is tomb for cupid arrows
plucked from my ancestors.
Small-scripted obituaries of
every lover onto my skin

erased and

My body is a mausoleum,
designed by a musician and
redesigned by an artist,

and if you asked one to describe
me he’d say I was the scent
of aging metal on his ring finger
and the numerals on his bones.

And I often wonder how he felt
when he made the music I write to,

when did he begin his grieving?
why were his instrumentals about me?
I know a lot of women would find that
romantic, but he, he used his titles
as a branding,

Why did I barter hips for love?
When did he know the “time had
passed for us”?

When did I start asking so many

Probably when my poetry began to
reflect his dishonesty. He knew I
would find absence in his

The last time I saw you, you
fed me at the airport, and I told you it
was the last time you would see me.

That was
two and a half years ago.



The moon’s deathly grip
challenges the hue,
its dew embellishes languor,
the heart, a labyrinthine lilt.

Yet I, ineffable, incipient at my
longing to live, live not long.

You and I are a moiety,
like picnics and ants;
one never truly lives
without the other.

As you or I.

The sky is redolent,
a sempiternal tunnel that all but
twists and winds,
the wind, a susurrus melody,
yet, too, shall be eternal.

As you and I.

But as death grasps and pulls
into itself the spirits source,
it, too, shall live forever,
its body woebegone beneath the dirt.

As you and I.



Death would be adorned
if not knowing it comes
but once;

once to the prepaid grave
no one will visit.

Death would be quick
as heartbreak;
each nerve pulsating under
the ripping of each severed

each pain stands electrified,
still, death would be quick.

The shapeless form Death
forms itself into,
cloud-clad upon the sea,
the red one the moon does oft
but softly trickle through,

the moon that moves its footsteps
across the ocean’s blue,
because it, too, would grieve…

But death is quick.

So often quick
to trick, to cheat into;
Death has but eyes
that see life’s thread
be vainly cut through

by severed hands that work
the devil’s knot, too loose,
but Death would intercept,
its spying eyes and grin,
unsparingly unseen,
for Death is quick.

And none would live to tell,
rise up from graven hell,
dig up the roots to find earth’s
warmth above the grave,
for Death would intercept,
because it, too, can only come
but once.

I Pledge Allegiance to My Life…


Her grave prime with roses
she devours her allegiance
as death grimly watches
her disguise

She showers with her ordinance,
tear-stained ambivalence,
as death slowly plucks
away her life.

She lay beneath her roses,
her soul engaged in sun-dance,
as death denies
its claim to her demise

Come, Sweet Death


Come, sweet death,
into the arms of my embrace.
Embrace, sweet dream,
all myself inside yourself.
Dream sweetly, death,
of my return into your arms,
embracing tenderly,
dream always sweetly now.

Come, shadows, forth,
into the light and be dispersed,
think always vaguely yourself
as a deathly form.
Breathe gently now,
inhale the scent of death,
disperse yourself into a form
of the unknown.

Come softly, love,
think not of death nor shadows,
but light less vague
than dreams that embrace you.
Descend beyond, sweet love,
return, encompass me,
for all myself inside yourself,
dream always until death.

(C) Copyright Brianna Rose Burton 2011

Let Me Live On Within Your Smile, Don’t Lose Me In Your Tears


Pain is understated
when you feel the loss of love
and though you know I’m no longer here
you tend to look above.

These times may be confusing
many emotions can run free
because inside you’ve hurt and cried
“I just want you here with me.”

Please know I see you daily
and it hurts to see you cry
if I could be down here with you
I’d would wipe your hurting eyes.

Try not to feel the sadness
that appears upon your face
I know if it were you that night
I’d gladly take your place.

But that would never happen
it just wasn’t meant to be
it was time for us to leave this place
and it’s time for you to see.

I love you just as always
as I loved you here on earth.
Please let me live within your heart
and know what life is worth.

Don’t ever think I’m missing
because we cannot touch
every time you think of me
I can feel just how much.

Please smile whenever I’m talked about
we will always be together.
I will see you when the time is right
love always, and forever.