Will you please C/C and tell me what you think of this new poem?

Question

Death Calls
By Victoria Tarrani
© 201101.29


If death comes knocking on your door today
what words will you whisper as you plead
for more time to prepare, time to pray?
Do you live by forgiveness, is that your creed?

But, it is time to go, can you hold yourself still
as death’s scaly fingers reach for your soul?
At the first penetration you shiver with a chill
you think, “Dear God, is there no loophole?”

The chill twists and wrenches into a fiery burn.
Tears fall from your eyes as you say, “Forgive me”,
knowing death’s grip doesn't stop his sojourn
your tension is gone; eyes close, rest, now daftly.

Whatever is meant to be, you will take this loss
as just one more throughout the many dreams
you’ve crossed before through winds of chaos
but this time you hoped you would be redeemed.

You hear the words of people talking about ten minutes.
“Heart is normal, but what of the time his brain was dead?”
“Vegetation, probably, it’s better than a casket.”
You open your eyes. “Isn’t this premed?”

The silence of shock shifted into your brain
“Did I say that aloud? Does anyone hear me?”
“Yes,” said the doctor, the first to regain
his composure as the dead man’s eerie

voice spoke; it was loud, scratchy yet clear.
A nurse, hand on your brow, asked how you feel.
“Life has new meaning, now that I am a seer,
“there is much I know, but cannot reveal.”

“I am ready to leave, to go on my way
can you claim any reason for me to remain?”
“We’d like to observe you for at least a day…”
“No, I’ll go, I am no longer in pain.”

“There are many who need to find their faith,
“I must show its value is forever real.
“So they will know death is just a wraith
“walk over him when at God’s feet you kneel.”

Answer 1

But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief. You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness. So then, let us not be like others, who are asleep, but let us be awake and sober. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.





What a wonderful reminder, let's be ready...

Answer 2

Talk about Death, and everybody thinks it is "spooky". All know the time-honored figure of Death as a robed skeleton with a scythe or sickle, but do not think of him as a personage. Many writers have written to/about death as he/she/it were a real being. I, too, have poems addressing Death ("O! Master Death", "Monseigneur Dead"), granted many are from my teen years and may be a tad emo. But when Poe is a literary influence...what can you do? Here endeth the rant.



As for your poem...imagery: wonderful, flow: superb, story: gripping (even I did not see the twist at the end coming, and a nice twist it was: well done!). Correct me if I am wrong, but were you going for iambic pentameter or were you just writing out the lines to your own rhythm (this not a critique or criticism, just wondering)?



One critique on the flow though, there are two lines which, for me, caused a bit of a stutter:



"knowing death’s grip doesn't stop his sojourn"--"Sojourn" seems a bit highfalutin and does not seem to fit the simplicity of your other words. I know you were going for the rhyme, but what about "turn" with its many possible connotations preceded by a monosyllabic word of some relevance?



"you’ve crossed before through winds of chaos"--It was "chaos" which first caught my attention here and I did not know why, at first. Upon inspection, I found this line a bit short for the rhythm you established and I believe that is what snagged me.



I do not know if it is simply part of the story or not, but the last stanza comes across as a bit preachy.



Quite well done overall.

Answer 3

Although I found the rhythm a little rough in spots, I definitely get the message you are trying to get across. And the rough rhythm might be part of the effect.



I think of my late mother, who passed away in November. She became severely ill in May of 2009 and had surgery to relieve an intestinal blockage which would have caused an excruciating death had it not been taken care of. At that time my sister and I believed her death was imminent and we said our goodbyes.



But mom didn't die for another year and a half. I live 800 miles from where she lived, but made several visits to her during the time between the discovery of the cancer and her death late last year. During her last week I spent several days at her bedside. She never visibly woke up. I saw her for the last time the day before she died, and I left the next morning. She died while I was enroute back home.



I have very mixed feelings about this passing. I didn't grieve as much as I might have, because we had already done that. I think the additional months she lived were a kind of blessing for both her and us. In her last few decades my mom tended to be a bit cranky and disagreeable, but I had several really good visits with her and she had mellowed considerably.



She told me on one of my visits with her that she was happy and was ready for whatever lay ahead--she just hoped it would not be too painful. I enjoyed spending time with her most visits, but was just there on the last one. I sat by her bedside as she lay sleeping. I read a couple of books. Went outside and walked around a few times. Visited with the staff of the care center. Thanked them for what they were doing for my mom. (I made a point of thanking nurses and CNA's whenever I could. My opinion--these folks deserve all the gratitude we can give them.)



The last day I was there I went outside and faced a lovely blue sky and prayed to God. "Take her," I said. "She's ready. We're ready. She is at peace and so are we. Her time has come. Give her a safe and comfortable voyage to the next life. We will meet again."



I pray that some distant time in the future we might all see each other again. My mom, my dad, my favorite uncle, my grandpa. And my relatives on my mom's side who've gone away. But, if we don't, our last moments together in this life were quality time.



Sorry, Tori. Didn't mean to write a novelette. Thanks for the poem and what it inspired in me.

Answer 4

Dear Tori,

I appreciate your poem and you for another nice poem.You talk of Death,bloody death! but you choose the words that are full of life.Paradoxically,you think of death but as another way of continuing the life.In your poem you use the verbs that are the signs of movement ,Knocking the door,whispering ,going,falling of tears,winds of chaos,talking in your mind,and so many other words.Death in your eye is another form of life.You don't believe the Death,surprisingly.In your poem You don't stop ,(a sign of Death),contrary you reread to leave.I remember Casar's approach to death in Shakespeare tragedy Julius Casar.Now i cannot remember his words but i will send you later .It is a good play which i recommend you read it /reread it.It has something to learn.

I thank you for your good poem.I hate Death ,and appreciate life,but i take pleasure from your poem,

Answer 5

Oh, Tori, I am not worried about death. he took the most precious thing ever from my life but, as i have come to realize...who else can help a soul make the journey? What wonderful sights there must be on the journey down the river Stxx... I can't wait to see those who I have been kept away from. But death, wel, he tells me it will be a while yet, and I TOTALLY trust the dude. He is righteous.



Nicely written, Tori.

Answer 6

Powerful poem, tori. A thinking woman's poem. "If death comes knocking on your door today" is a spooky question, yet it is also one that I now ponder after reading your poem.



I think it is a great story and that you manaaged to write it in a poem says much about your talent and your beliefs.

Answer 7

I was waiting for the last stanza. I can't imagine you being afraid of death. Fear of suffering I understand, fear of death I do not. As always Tori - impressive.



Edit - I would also add - that if I have gleaned such a knowledge of your character from your writing, your courage, intelligence, sincerity - what could be better? Isn't that what Art is about?

Answer 8

You reminded me in your heart felt poem that perhaps we think a bit too much of ourselves. The most advanced microchip conceived can be rendered useless by one, small particle of dust. The average human temperature is 98.6. It can be defined, but it's origin cannot. Without faith, how blind we members can be. I watched my mother's slow decline for 10 years, as I cared for her at home. This is where she wanted to be and I gave her 10 years of my life. I watched her slow decline, and the fight and determination and faith she exhibited. She had maintained control of her mental faculties. One of the last two days, she was concious, but so weary. I held her in my arms and told her, just let yourself relax, let go, and sleep as long as you want today. The next morning she didn't awaken. Her breathing had grown shallow, but her face was relaxed and peaceful. She was transfered to the hospital and died that evening around supper time. Her facial expression of total contentment was her final gift to me.

Answer 9

I find it a little spooky. Any mention of God can do that with me. The poem would be more effective with me if the dying person ( vegetable ) is aware as he is wheeled into to the harvest. Now that would make it doubly spooky.

Answer 10

"At the first penetration you shiver with a chill

you think, “Dear God, is there no loophole?”"



WC Fields, on his death bed, asked for a bible. Those with him were shocked as he had been a proud atheist.

"What are you doing, " they asked.

"Looking for a loophole," he replied.



Your poem does address this silly end.

Answer 11

I shan't critique

and I am withholding comment on the poetic structure

the message is there

I read it loud and clear.

Answer 12

You asked for a critique so I'll give you one. Have you ever tried to put a bunch of papers in to an A4 envelope and found that they don't quite fit? You don't want to fold them, so you persevere - but rip the envelope down the sides as you try and force the papers in - infuriating, eh?



That's what your poetry is usually like, and this one is no different. Everything about it is forced and doesn't quite fit in the "envelope". Awkward, stilted phraseology, uneven (often nonexistent) rhythm, contrived rhyme, and embarrassingly awful scenarios. All written with a child-like, 'though mistaken (to the point of delusion), belief that you are being poetic and meaningful.



Your writing comes across as the product of an enthusiastic but inexperienced teenager who hasn't quite grasped the concept of poetry, but perseveres regardless.



Your poem? A nice sentiment, but artlessly handled.



No, HD - art is about art.

Answer 13

You've probably written the actual experience of many people. Nice reminder for the Sabbath...gets ready for church.

Answer 14

i compete in UIL compotitions and orital reading is one of the events i compete. I wish this was puplished in hard copy so i could it to compete. I loved the metephore of deaths scaley fingers. I loved all of it.0wonderful job.

Answer 15

Yes, it is a bit spooky but it works for it. Very good write. :)