Alas!
“Alas!” A word of grief and rueful mourning;
A gut-punch from what was but is no more
Or “almost was,” miscarried, died aborning.
“Alas!” A raven croaking, “Nevermore.”
“Alas!” Shall time deface, erase, surrender
The still-warm memory of love’s last kiss?
A gasping grasp at fading spectral splendor;
“Alas!” When death reduces life to this!
“Alas!” With David, hide above your gateway
And cry, “Would God that I had died for thee!”
Yet life goes on, ere all succumb to Fate’s-way.
“Alas! For one day death will come for me.
Yet peace will come at last, for on that day
The word, “Alas,” itself will pass away.
R.I.P.
_A graveyard headstone:
The date, 1807.
_Once flesh, now dead bone.
Who died and went to heaven.
_Decayed, dismembered;
This person, once-begotten;
_Their name remembered;
But who they were, forgotten.
Reflections
On Viewing the Dash Cam
Video of the Recent Crash on I-10
.
The semi hit you from behind
_You never knew it hit you.
What was the last thought on your mind
_Before bad karma bit you?
“Damn traffic! I’ll be late to work by
_Half an hour,” you reckoned;
While not aware that you would die
_In less than half a second.
Perhaps a thought of love or hate
_For someone or another?
Or something else (besides being late),
_Like issues with your mother.
Or maybe you were hungry and
_Were noshing on a sandwich,
Or texting someone with one hand
_While venting like an e-bitch.
A profound thought while on-the-go?
_Or thoughts of indigestion!
The truth is that we’ll never know
_The answer to our question.
But whether in the blink of an eye
_Or slow but sure, before us,
With dead-deaf ears we’ll hear on high
_Our Dies Irae chorus.
Our final thought, our final breath,
_Draws near as we grow older.
Perhaps today will be when death
_Comes tapping on our shoulder.
Dies Irae: a hymn sung for the dead.
James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and four collections of poetry including Sidekicks, Mostly Sonnets, and Laughing Matters, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in both print and online media. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.
As I’m sure you planned, James, the lively rhythm of your “Reflections” doesn’t fit the topic of likely thoughts at the moment of unexpected death. That’s emphatic when the words “a profound thought” clash with the meter. Having just sung “Dies Irae” last evening in an a cappella chorus, I find that sixth stanza a good ending for the poem, but I have to accept your proverbial tap on the shoulder as even better.
Exquisite sonnet repeating “Alas” more and more meaningfully!
These are an excellent trio of poems, looking at death from witty and wise angles.
“Alas” is absolutely marvelous! To begin with, the very idea of writing a poem about that word is an extremely creative idea! Your allusion to the famous raven’s synonym for “alas” is brilliant; the two alliterative phrases in line 7 are lovely; the allusion to David howling with grief for Absalom is profoundly poignant; the mosaic rhyme of “gateway” with “Fate’s-way” is an eye-stopper; and the thought of the word “alas” itself someday fading away is such a surprising new thought! In my opinion, this is certainly one of the best poems I have read this year — and that’s saying a lot on this site!
The other two poems are also excellent meditations on the ironies of an anonymous gravestone, and a sudden death.
Leave it to you, James, to write a trio of perfectly poignant poems. I’ll be stopping by your cabin later tonight with an unopened bottle of Mortlach, for further discussion. So-o-o good!