Suicide In An Old House Poem by Lamont Palmer
Suicide In An Old House
Death surrounds us with blatant arms.
A sanitation worker dies and no one
cares, but banshee phones striking at midnight,
summoning the equally unknown people
to altars of rancor and resignation.
What do they do but recognize a human
in the grip of edgy, illegible lives,
the ritualistic mouthing of platitudes,
cold and incurable as dry, winter snow?
Bleak living room. Soon the owner won't live
in the area for living, the area's dark aria -
a moment of meth, mirth and minions.
Take that bystreet to oblivion,
to namelessness, to fingers on hardware,
to the antinome of more pure breaths.
By his own hand - a homemade gun, a killing
of the flesh and the direction of the flesh -
alone, in the basement of barren wind
And no one cares! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Hi Mr Palmer, Great poem. Loved reading. Deserves to be selected poem of the day. Congrats and thanks for sharing.10 is all permitted on ph.
A great awesome poem coming from the bottom of the heart of the poet and very touching. Thanks for sharing it here. Congrats on it's selection as the poem of the Day.
A great awesome poem coming from the bottom of the heart of the poet and very touching. Thanks for sharing it here.
Poignant. The melancholy end to a sad life. Loneliness gnaws at life
Take that bystreet to oblivion, to namelessness, to fingers on hardware, to the antinome of more pure breaths. Beautiful lines. Lovely poem.10 for it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 9:31:36 PM # 1.0.0
The Poet I think the real hunter of the tragedy of human civilization. Time has changed and with rapid course of changing. Last stanza depicts yet time we have got much to rectify ourselves (who think themselves the civilized one, should practice to focus the lens in direction indifferent in need not by class-ics judgment. Thanks for sharing.