4th Annual Poems About Suicide Month

[nibbed]

My Brother Mark

He was looking at a girl
while pedaling his bike
into a parked car.
They took him
by ambulance to emergency,
where he embraced
strangely frigid
deep waters
wearing his brand new
fashionable cinder block tether,
not once trying
to hold his breath.

[just mercedes]

---

Thanks Leanne - brilliant! I just made one with all the text of my collection about women. Fun.

[CRNDLSM]

The couch is quicksand
Eternal sleep, deprivation
Blood shot, hollow eyes
Beckon to dance, desperate
for air, life, sustenance
A faint signal, counting
the hours and years, millennia
between a dozen dead daughters and

My black Death Heart

[just mercedes]

refusal to mourn a poet’s suicide the week before Christmas (vale Sparrow)



faces glimpsed through a window
before, during and after
saxophone darker than shadows
nothing is sadder than laughter

before, during and after
waitresses cut through the crowd
nothing is sadder than laughter
everyone’s laughing out loud

waitresses cut through the crowd
wounds that instantly mend
everyone’s laughing out loud
in silence all dances end

wounds that instantly mend
his lips left a mark on the glass
in silence all dances end
friends struggle with loss

his lips left a mark on the glass
his life left a son and some poems
friends struggle with loss
wonder why no one noticed

his life left a son and some poems
faces glimpsed through the window
wonder why no one noticed
saxophone darker than shadows

[rayheinrich]

               

[CRNDLSM]

                                                                          Fist
                                                               clenc       hed
                                                         to le            t       out
                                             the hatre            d.        Un s
                     poken, unable, un                             d       er 
too much pressure,                 eeeeeeeee              an  d
                                         eeeee                  e           r        e
                                      bl                               e        a       d
                                                        together e we'll     y.
                                           the knife,             e
                               give me                           e
Give me your illness,                                    d.

[QDeathstar]

Finding Success

Anyone who has attempted
s u i c i d e
never listened to Van Halen.

[RiverNotch]

                                                                          Fist
                                                               clenc       hed
                                                         to le            t       out
                                             the hatre            d.        Un s
                     poken, unable, un                             d       er 
too much pressure,                                                     an  d
                                                     bleeeee                   r        e
                                                                    e                a       d
                                                        togethere. we'll       y.
                                           the knife,             e
                               give me                           e
Give me your illness,                                    d.

talking point: although the poem seems truly eager to die, cutting vertical instead of horizontal, isn't the gash still too small?

[ellajam]

                                                                          Fist
                                                               clenc       hed
                                                         to le            t       out
                                             the hatre            d.        Un s
                     poken, unable, un                             d       er 
too much pressure,                                                     an  d
                                                     bleeeee                   r        e
                                                                    e                a       d
                                                        togethere. we'll       y.
                                           the knife,             e
                               give me                           e
Give me your illness,                                    d.

talking point: although the poem seems truly eager to die, cutting vertical instead of horizontal, isn't the gash still too small?

The gash needn't be large, just deep. Works for me.

[CRNDLSM]

Here I thought I was going to get it for using red!

[QDeathstar]

Maybe it needs to be bold. Also, and its cliche at this point, but the cut should be up the arm, not across.




Erm.. i googled "how to slit your wrist" and it gave me a suicide prevention hotline. NOT WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR GOOGLE! Google's going soft.

[CRNDLSM]

Tried to adjust for the angle, this is the wristcutting emo thread right?

[ellajam]

Tried to adjust for the angle, this is the wristcutting emo thread right?

yessiree

[Keith]

Bieber

[rayheinrich]

Bieber

OMG! I utterly missed that detail.
Leanne is a cunning imp and her sarcasm is almost the equal of her poetry.

---

Here I thought I was going to get it for using red!

No, no, I love the use of red. And I love how you did this poem. The composition
is nicely detailed and the red stands out as you used it sparingly.

Though its color led me to interpret it as self-harming, or insincerely attempted
suicide as the blood is dark red in color which is the color of venous blood (blood
from the veins). Arterial blood is bright red and requires a deeper cut. Since
it comes out at a higher pressure, you can bleed to death faster and more reliably.

        Arterial on left, venous on right:
       

---

Maybe it needs to be bold.  Also, and its cliche at this point, but the cut should be up the arm, not across.

Erm.. i googled "how to slit your wrist" and it gave me a suicide prevention hotline. NOT WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR GOOGLE! Google's going soft.

Yes, indeed, Google IS going soft.
ISIS beheadings aren't as easy to search; and my favorite suicide photo (the chainsaw one) can't be found anymore.

P.S. Cliché, yes, but in keeping since, lets face it, there's no bigger cliché than suicide.

[Tiger the Lion]

And never, now
 
There’s still an opening in the wattle
where our brother would thread himself
through thistle and thorn,
 
flop onto familiar grass
and jiggle the basement window
before slinking into bed.
 
Father only slept
when the break-in was done.

[ellajam]

And never, now
 
There’s still an opening in the wattle
where our brother would thread himself
through thistle and thorn,
 
flop onto familiar grass
and jiggle the basement window
before slinking into bed.
 
Father only slept
when the break-in was done.

mmmm

[dukealien]

Climbing Blade


When I climb mountains
it will be on my own feet
that I reach the top.

[Richard]

Broken Promise

Under me feet,
I can hear the ice
cracking
like insults snapping against a quiet boy,
yet I keep walking.

At any moment
my breath will be replaced by cold water
like joy drowned by loss.

When the ice finally breaks,
my last thoughts will be:
How did I not notice?
Why didn't you tell me?

Then there'll be nothing left,
but the body
of a childless father.

[ellajam]

Broken Promise

Under me feet,
I can hear the ice
cracking
like insults snapping against a quiet boy,
yet I keep walking.

At any moment
my breath will be replaced by cold water
like joy drowned by loss.

When the ice finally breaks,
my last thoughts will be:
How did I not notice?
Why didn't you tell me?

Then there'll be nothing left,
but the body
of a childless father.

I was expecting "like loss drowned by joy". Nice piece.