Death Row Poem by Isaac 'slimx'

Fire! I’m just kidding

needed your attention,

time and concentration,

because I have something to tell you,

if you’ve heard it before,

then here’s the reminder,

we’re all still sitting,

on life’s death row.



It is more like a roll call,

I mean like nature’s call,

and you can’t fake answering another call,

there’s no room for the player games,

because you may have to follow the next man’s shadow,

down the tunnel of eternal life,

away from mortality into immortality.



Your congress can’t legislate it away,

neither can a judge rule against him,

no weapon of war can stop him,

he is life’s most wanted,

yet everyone must attend his banquet,

for we’re all like prey,

like a lost sheep roaming in the desert,

in the sight of a lurking predator,

with no ounce of mercy nor oil of pity.





There’s no victor, we’re all victims,

at least on this side of the drama,

for not even the Vatican,

is safe from this vampire,

that can bring down a whole empire,

this race has no umpire,

the finish line is the six feet line,

the prize, a body bag.



It’s not like your pay roll,

where you can fight for some overtime,

no time off like in your workplace,

you can’t save your mother,

neither can you defend your only begotten son,

worse still, no one knows the hour,

when the jar will be broken,

and it’s pieces scattered like flyers,

and the oil wasted forever.



The priest can’t preach it away,

for he may be next in line,

no lawyer can bail himself out,

nor prevail against him with a lawsuit,

neither can the pallbearer carry it away,

the coffin maker can’t bribe him with a gift,

neither can the undertaker intimidate him.





In his hand is a list of over six billion names,

with countless on the waiting list,

those in the womb are not safe,

for it is not a hiding place,

the toddler is not exempted,

nor is the infant cry meet with a pardon,

he is always at the corner,

with a straight face devoid of a smile,

whistling as he prowls,

rejoicing in his abomination,

reaping where he never sowed,

his arrival is like that of a ghost,

but behind him is always weeping and wailing.



His formula is complex,

his permutation is dicey,

and the probability is unimaginable,

for it has no set order,

similar to chaotic entropy,

the elder watches as a child goes,

and a brother weeps as his sister depart,

his game plans are unpredictable.

for even those that look into the glass,

and those that observe the galaxies,

and those that fair on the sea,

are as guilty as those that float in the air,

and as those that measure the scorching wilderness.



I liken him to a teacher in my school days,

making the morning roll call,

for even as I’m speaking and inking this misery,

the sons of men are being pegged away with no mercy,

never to return to this side of the fence,

their destiny gone forever,

their toils and pains, drama unlimited washed away,

like a sweeping rain in the continental rain forest,

so is the washing away of the souls of men.



So my brothers put your house in order daily,

awake from your slumber my sisters,

don’t get carried away by the things of this life,

for we are all sitting and waiting,

and soon it will be our turn,

for our names shall be called,

sooner or later, summer or winter,

for it might be at day or at night,

autumn or spring,

for soon the warrant will be served,

and the arrest will follow.

the benediction will be said,

the fellowship will end,

and we will be whisked away,

from things with no meaning,

from the ones that mattered most,

and your life membership terminated,

as the curtain is drawn.

the body will return to dust,

the spirit to its maker

and the soul to the gate of judgment.



Fret not,

be not afraid,

for death days are numbered,

his defeat will be most glamorous,

we will have the last laugh,

for we can only die once,

his victory is over the body,

for our souls are stronger than cast iron.

this again is another piece of my insanity,

do what you have to do,

it’s just a reminder,

that we are and still sitting on death row.



Isaac Slimx

July 2009