Poetry: To Cells That Are Dead (Regenerate)!

Cover up layer after layer
And your sinews grow in strength.
Let your bones rattle in prayer
And may memory increase her length.
For nails are to fingers
As hairs are to strands
And bells are to ringers
As grip is to cover of our hands.
For death has to be a friend
To make living an enemy
And dying may not comprehend
When living seeks a remedy

The tissue needing repair
Must first have had to tear.

Leon

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Lighters up, pacesetter
Death killed but you live
Give a message to my grandfather
In our hearts, he’ll also live
The attack on your cells
Only awakened a universe
Ringing like Christmas bells
Leaving a sweet smell of frankincense
Free from the choke hold of the flesh
A reverberation your exit left
In our hearts you stay fresh
The thief has failed in his theft

As your dead cells come together
Brand new layers have come to gather

Hybrid.

======================================
To the small room my comfort found comfort
In your blocks my life feel safe
Sleeping with both eyes closed no discomfort
Kept me warm, I knew no waif
Got me acquainted with love and friends
On me you kept an eye
My In and out you made amends
But today you die
Stories of the old,you told?
To the small room comfort is now sick
Safety now wears scary face, not Bold
In Between I and love membrane felt thick

You never made mention of this junction
To the small room you left with your function.

Bangwan

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Awaken
o thee, seed of the human,
crack the Kraken.
Open, like the eggs of a woman.
Wake from your endless journey
so your tale will be told
Rekindle your head, fit the ovary
you are the one, for the crown of old.
Not this history will talk of a martyr
for your cause is a clause of now,
Listen to my voice, be now the matter,
let your purpose be horns on a cow.

Swim brother man, swim and find a home,
Swim from death to life, let light help you roam.

Ruddapoet

=====================================
Less more broken tissues.
Cavity and loins on stress.
Heart out, stress, less issues.
Short breaths, let go of distress.
Troubling weary hearts.
Palin sheets on crumbled bed.
Twinkle twinkle little harts.
Position in weak vessels instead.
Cole black confusing.
Wrinkle, wider they appear.
Late memories reminiscing.
Last smile fade and disappear.

Some still lay Inactively dead.
Some regenerate if led.

Hypermind

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Breezing wind
Passing stream
Against you, we’ve sinned
Mother nature, its of you we dream
Blooming flowers
Ballads of yore
Shield us from despairing hours
Bring us to gallantry, to battle’s fore
First light of morning
Pierce thou my soul
With thrill! With fiery turning!
last groan of dusk rejuvenate me, whole!
Because we do not die
Regeneration is not our cry!

-OracLe

=====================================

Dry bones shall rise again
My tongue will utter life
It will give the lame no pain
White hands with a black knife
To wipe out the fragment
Get your bed and walk
You are no longer in torment
Caress the living talk
Buy some bows and arrows
To fire the second affliction
Feel the highs and lows
The ground seeks your attention

To dead cells waiting to fill
This piece is a portion pill

Rachel Charles

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These words are for the souls
Of those who lost their bodies
To “grazeless” pastures in dug holes
Whose new life alike the zombies;
These words are for the bones
These caves sucked their marrows to dry
Shaving their dreaded skulls clean with stones
Exposing them to death’s eye;
These words are prophecies
From the scrolls faith has written
To the ears of these faint economies
That the birth of rebirth can’t be hidden.

Let all that lost breath
Breathe to air of a conquered death.

Bamvi