MY VERY OWN ‘MAYBE’ MORTALiTY
a poem about life and death
DEATH…AND (MAYBE) LiFE:
THREE THiNGS OF ASHES iN THiS, OUR OLD HOUSE.
(AT LEAST OF THAT i'M AWARE)
POWDERED, EYE-LASHED REMAiNS OF MY FATHER (james-human/texan/drummer/dancer/shoe salesman/truck driver) AND MY FAMiLY'S FiRST TWO DOGS OF SHORTHAiR (dewey-weimeraner and norman-dalmation+weimeraner).
NONE OF WHiCH WERE EVER SET AFLAME; JUST GASES AND BONES; MORE FRAGMENTED MEMOiRS OF MERE RETORTED FEiGN.
BROTHERS, MOTHERS, SiSTERS, AND FATHERS...SONS, DAUGHTERS, AND MAN'S BEST FRiENDS-BOTH SNiFFERS AND ONE SLOBBERER.
GRiEF'S TiNY MAGNETS TOO TiNY TO CLiNG…TO FRiDGE, OR PHARAOH, NOR SATURN’S GREAT KEY RiNGS.
A MYTH…THE DUST OF THE DEAD: TWO COiNS FOR THEiR EYES BUYS THE LiViNG THREE CHERiSHED REMiNDERS…MAYBE…
1. LiFE HAS A PRiCE…RUST.
2. ALL OF US…A REMiSSED MiST.
3. DEATH iS A PRiZE…A BEDDED WiSH.
About the Creator
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By Emos Sibu Poriei (Kaya)about 8 hours ago in Poets
Comments (2)
Heavy piece. It captures grief in such an unusual and memorable way.
love the way you mix personal details with bigger reflections on life and death. So powerful.