Life Wth Death
Following. Don't you dare shoot that dog
or eat your horse.
I don't care if you're starving.
So be it.
We all starve- -of love, of hate
of tempestuous ills alike.
Then we all die transported
into what we cannot fathom.
I see tiny cells attracting
& repulsing; they know not why,
except they want to keep up
the mindless struggle
against their strange mates,
who, in turn, want to relish them,
destroy their taciturn little existence.
In my head an unvanquished foe
it had a medical nomenclature.
Antibiotics were none but a thrill for it,
Doctor Pitt, he of the booming & healthy voice
operated, the puss squirting out across the room;
and retired. He must be dead,
his brain a mere rot.
But he saved me twice;
my head was large as a watermelon,
my eyes shut tight.
All living things will one day
Stan Petrovich's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Life Wth Death by Stan Petrovich )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Gauguin's Red, Deborah DeNicola
- Coffee After Dark, Michael Mira
- The Tree at Casa Cara, Deborah DeNicola
- Shattered Glass Windows, Michael Mira
- Lioness, Deborah DeNicola
- "...in his car seat", Jeff Gangwer
- not a poem, Praveen chaudhary
- Loving Mark Strand, Deborah DeNicola
- People should, hasmukh amathalal
- The Tool That Carries, Barbara Fleury