Monday, August 15, 2011

Stop Request

I barely ever sleep,
but often I dream of my funeral.
The day I am laid to rest.
Goodbyes said in silence.
Empty prayers to an empty sky.
Curses under swallowed breaths.
A bronze urn to hold the remnants of my person.
Who will weep for me and who will piss on me?
True loves, true friends and the truly fake.
All gathered together sharing a begrudged moment.
Regrets, lies, blinding truths and the inescapable finality.
Knowing that time is up and things don't get resolved nicely.
The dark danse macabre of the moment beguiles the sufferer.
The pretentious and the false will offer the aggrieved
to “be there for them if they are needed”.
Even though few were there for me when I needed them in life.
Meanwhile a few selfless pilgrims will do what must be done.
Some will sob, others will make inappropriate jokes.
Others still will reminisce over me in uneasy low tones.
Few will come to understand the measure of this man.
Frenemies I never showed a glimpse of solace to
will tell stories of how close they were to me.
Knowing I hated with same nerve endings I also loved with.
Those that loathed me will push platitudes past gritted teeth.
Dearest friends will weep, some will know I am in their hearts.
Know that I tried my best, but often came up short in hindsight.
It rains on us all sometimes. The just and unjust alike.
I don't want a party in my honor nor a somber affair.
Because I've always had an uneasy alliance with life.
A span of time in between to poles marking a journey.
All that's left when a soul burns away for good.
This now concludes our regular broadcast life...

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