The Death Masque

Poem By David SmithWhite

Funereal and abortive;
these hours of hypocrisy,
and the entertainment of death,
with life-affirming rites,
in the precise paying of the tribute,
and the cool relief of tears.

Here attitudes unmatter,
the raw, unfettered, material reason,
the dull symphony of guilt,
with a family of hard dependence,
and a cruel, conditioned love,
of martyred introspection.

Where platitudes shall flatter
the blood-dumb display of felt
and token feelings that coalesece,
as if to masquerade
as stiff, cosmetic grief,
congealed and ill at ease.

Just another soft slaughter,
in the sulking isolation
of sham and forced indifference.
Reserved and undeserving,
we assume the pallid fabric
of mute and fleeing distance.

Comments about The Death Masque

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of SMITHWHITE

Chants In A Million

God is the father. God is his son.
God is the victory that all evil shuns.
God of the mighty. God of the weak.
God is the mystery that all searchers seek.


In my own remembering,
I can see so many things.
Days of bliss were much too brief.
Longer nights of pain and grief.


Come stalking, come stalking,
my pristine and perfect Cat.
Come sly, silent, and with deadly intention,
to kill with a cool, breath-taking invention.

Song: A Much Traveled Road

Oh the folly I showed, when I unraveled the code,
on that much traveled road called love.
Where the marvels bestowed, be the gift or the goad,
on that hard graveled road called love.

Song: A Dog's Life

The life of a dog is a dog's life.
It is pain. It is suffering and grief.
The life of a dog is a dog's life.
Full of fear and gnashing of teeth.

A Letter To Hilary

Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
you must not think ill of me,
though this letter be tardy,
it is mercifully short.