Death is an uptown lady

Death is an uptown lady

A Poem by Ted

Sometimes death whispers to me

At the telephone

When I’m in a conversation

She whispers and she’s breathing hard


Sometimes I think at night, of death

It’s like I am in love with her

Listening to love songs,

Reading love poems


Aren’t you afraid of her?

A statue on my desk asks

No, I say

Death is not like what we think she is


Don’t be fooled

Death is an uptown lady

With designer clothes

With expensive crystals mounted on her dress


And she doesn’t bear a scythe on her shoulder anymore

She’s not all bones like we thought she is

She is a busty lady

With shapes and great legs

With rounds breast and bottom


She speaks in different languages

She knows French, Spanish, Russian,

She even knows ancient Greek

And she can quote from Homer and Sophocles.


Oh, surely you can have

A very stimulating conversation with her,

She’ll discuss about economics, recent crisis

Stock exchange,

She’ll even talk politics


She looks like many women I saw,

In magazines, and on the catwalk

She has style,

She surely does


She looks like that lady

I see every day at the bank,

She looks

Just like the women at the corner,

Selling flowers


As I look closer and closer

I can see she resembles many women

That I’ve had

She resembles even the one in the bed,

Next to me


And now as I ponder

My darling

I think the lady in dark resembles you !


© 2013 Ted

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Added on August 17, 2013
Last Updated on August 17, 2013



Sibiu, Sibiu, Romania

Morning Wake Morning Wake

A Poem by Ted