Sunday, 28 July 2013

Posthumous Poetry

"What every body echoes or in silence passes by as true to-day may turn out to be falsehood to-morrow, mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would sprinkle fertilizing rain on their fields. What old people say you cannot do you try and find that you can.Old deeds for old people, and new deeds for new." - Thoreau, "Walden"

Posthumous Poetry.

Now that I am gone,
Reduced in density,
Read these words,
Weep incessantly,
Think of me,
Bathe in pain,
But quickly turn your head again.

Your payment due,
Relive the laughter,
Continue it on with another hereafter,
Channel the darkness into your art,
Be consoled that our souls are never to part.

Remember the joke,
The game,
The ludicrous,
Affirm inevitable turns in the conscience,
Do as you wish,
Don’t be afraid,
But take heed that the one standing next to you prayed.

Now scatter my memory far and wide,
Freed by truth, chained by pride,
My mortal thoughts lie here to save,
Transcend the coil and mock the grave.

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