I Left The Window Open And In Came Death

I left the window open
And in came death
She showed me her wristwatch
And counted my pending breaths
I said, “I am too busy
I have a poem to write
We can go out later
How about Friday night?”
She had a serious look upon her
She gave me a blank stare
She had her motorbike ready
To take me away from there
She grabbed my hand to force me
I was firm in my stand
I tried reasoning with her
She failed to understand
I punched her in the face
And then in the gut
A lightning quick kung-fu kick
A jab and an upper cut
She finally admitted defeat
Sped away on her bike
But not before expressing
Towards me a strong dislike
I couldn’t care less about her
She may think of me as a nut
I had a poem to finish
So I slammed the window shut

98 thoughts on “I Left The Window Open And In Came Death

  1. Interesting that death is a She in your poem. In our human need to personify abstract concepts such as death I was wondering why sometimes it is female and others male, which seems to depend on our cultural background, on what we read and on how we perceive life being death its complete opposite. I found this here about death’s gender: https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-gender-of-Death
    Also, apart from our cultural background death’s gender must also depend on our unconscious which is tied to our life experience. Still wondering why death is a female presence in your poem. According to Carl Jung’s analytical psychology death would be the female part of you, the anima, whereas I, being a woman, would also have a masculine part of me, the animus (source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anima_and_animus).
    In your poem you could be expressing a part of you, something you want to defeat or somehow get rid of, or push away. It could mean a change in your life, which would speak of a wonderful personal growth (I am not psychoanalising you, I am not a psychologist but I like the connection I seem to have found to review this poem of yours, something I truly love). When you push away death in the poem you clearly say “I had a poem to finish”, which suggests to me “hey, I do not want any interference in my writing, this is become a very important craft to me, so go away and leave me alone.” Thus death could imply not real death, but a symbolic kind of death, whatever reasons, shadows or any kind of presence that would hinder you as a poet. The important thing is that you succeed in what you want to do when you “slammed the window shut”.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is wonderful!!! And I love how synchronicitous blogland and life in general can be. My last blog contemplate time and death and there have been a few others I’ve visited today that are speaking of death. We’re all in the same stream! Cheers and rock on!!! ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Death visits you a lot, huh?
    I was reminded of Ghost Rider too. I once wrote a poem inspired by Ghost Rider too, just don’t get time these days… ๐Ÿ˜›
    Good to see that you’re still active mate. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

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