Poem: Don't Say My Name

-

I wake up
alone
forgotten
But I'm not surprised.
I'm numb.
I look out the window
at the blue blue sky
like a bird
from the bars of its cage.
When I die
don't give me an elaborate funeral
don't pray for my soul
burn me
scatter me among the waves
I won't be around to see it.
I've given my life to others
without any help
or support
or love from others
In death
at least give me this
The world will keep turning
without me
Everyone will forget
they say a person lives
as long as their name is spoken.
Don't say my name.
Let me rest.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Holiday Happenings (Sifa's Real Life)

-
I took a break from the usual writing schedule over the Easter holidays. Kiddos had Good Friday through today off and will return to school tomorrow. Plenty of goodies, including chocolate bunnies and marshmallow Peeps and a turkey dinner. I'm seeing a lot of turkey sandwiches in my immediate future. It was nice to relax and be able to catch up with things. We went out to the park for the first time this season, since the weather was actually warm enough to do it. It's about a 15 minute drive just down the road from our new house. The usual Greenway was temporarily closed, but there are still many walking trails in Reedy Creek Park. We took a short walk to the lake near the playground. The kids were able to get fresh air and sunshine and actually enjoy being outside. Slowly but surely, we'll take longer and longer walks. I need to build up my stamina for it. Of course, Reedy Creek was quite popular, with hikers, picnickers and kids at the playground and the basketball court
Read more

Poem: Perfect Day

-
The air grows warmer I catch sunlight between my fingertips The sound of bees during the day and the chirp of crickets at night. The wind blows cold from east to west and back again. Not a cloud in the sky a perfect pastel blue with no storms to be seen. Those were halcyon days when Nature woke up and basked in the lengthy hours of a carefree afternoon.
Read more

Poem: On Writing, by a Writer

-
Stream of consciousness whatever comes to mind just get it down on the paper or screen. Spelling doesn't matter disjointed fragments of what, when, where, how, why. Five minutes here two hours there it builds up in between appointments life's crises, school shenanigans and emergencies. Every day even for a fraction notes jotted down on the back of a napkin captured in the moment just one key word to spark a remembrance. Life's full of pitfalls internet rabbit holes Sometimes I miss a day but that's all right. If I get one word in if one idea is heard it is worth it
Read more