Laying,
my back pressed to the ground
free falling through the clouds
and heavens above
As it steals my breath away
the innocence
the carelessness
of it all
Telling myself to breathe easy
as I choke on the fresh air that pollutes my lungs
Finding wisdom of a lie
Life and Death
Have no rhyme or reason
In these moments before you die
Its not your life that pass before your eyes
Its the ones you leave behind
Tender moments of I love yous
Laughter and tears
Friends youve known throughout the years
These are things that you see
lifes important scenes
I am left to believe
maybe
This is a form of heaven
These moments when life
just seemed right
and you really felt alive
Death is not the end
merely a new beginning
of remembering who you were
and what you truly leave behind
Wow Robert, this could have been a inspirational piece, almost like a thought of the day - no more like something to live by, let's say motto for one's life.
Your words amazingly brings peace to my mind, knowing that as you have said so beautifully
Death is not the end
merely a new beginning
of remembering who you were
and what you truly leave behind
Omg, goosebumps - lots of them.
This piece is def going to my favs
oh and btw, great pic, works great with your poem!
I did enjoy your thoughts and yes, i do agree the friends, family, i love you's our pets, lending a helping hand when able, they are heaven .. this poem is so full of wisdom and inspiration and dreamy ,, very good one of my favorites. Very good thoughts for you and for us .
Chloe
xoxo
There is a calming effect in the first stanza; the images of clouds and heaven and innoncence and carelessnes that turns into the realities of death in the choking and pollution of rhymeless reason that is followed by the sorrows of those left behind and a resignation to death as a form of life. It seems that you go through the stages of death and dying in these four stanzas.
Love it. I'm not sure whether to be sad or excited. It's an interesting feeling you managed to evoke, despite a few cliche lines. Further, this poem is good evidence that a good poem doesn't have to be grounded, or mundane (like a lot of contemporary poetry) to be touching.
This is beautiful. The way you write really helps the reader feel the writing instead of just reading the words.
And for me personally reading this brought back memories of times when I felt just like you described:
These moments when life
just seemed right
and you really felt alive
This is a profound and touching piece, Robert. I love this piece because of how personal it felt. I could relate to each and every line because these are thoughts that I have had, too. I love the preciousness you speak of and the good moments that are mentioned ... there is nothing more wonderful than loving and being loved and you reflect that so well. The things that matter - I love that message.
Imagine if heaven was just a collection of the best moments of your life in a continuous loop. I love the peacefulness and serenity of this piece. It gives me a new perspective on something I've feared. It also makes you think of all the time you have left. Thanx.
♥Destiny♥
When I read a poem and see any of these four lines:
Friends you've known throughout the years
These are things that you see
life's important scenes
I am left to believe
I realize I have read this poem before. Dozens of times. Hundreds of times. It continually reincarnates itself for the sake of unoriginality. There is nothing original about the language here, you are repeating poetry catch phrases and cliches. And this poem has no clear subject. You are taking alot of personal feelings and messages you think are important and meshing them together into this Frankenstein piece hoping it turns out fine. The title of this is moments. Fine, an excellent universal topic that we all can relate to. You try to discuss moments and their importance, but you only acknowledge each component in very general terms *without description or real analysis* and just like life, you let it slip by in your poem without examining it. Putting it under a microscope. For writing a poem about the introspection of these moments I cannot understand how the real thesis is merely summed up in
These moments when life
just seemed right* cliche
and you really felt alive* VERY cliche
Death is not the end
merely a new beginning
of remembering who you were
and what you truly leave behind
which means absolutely nothing. I challenge anyone to rationally break this down and find a sense in it. It is included entirely to withdraw into the abstract of time and life, and the structure of doing so can be artistic depending on the ability of the writer, but this is a failure because it has no real meaning.
In conclusion, there are artistic impressions that are expressed here which will lead, with careful refinement, to greatness. As is however, this lacks the real skill of poetry.
My name is Robert. I write therefore I feel I am. My words come from my heart, soul, and mind. I write what I feel and see, life is my inspiration. Life itself is art in its purest form. There is noth.. more..