Aubade – Death wants nothing more than to teach us kindness

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“J” is for Judgement, should the sky deem me worthy
there is little joy in holding fast to pride
to watch darkness moving through a tunnel
I trace my finger upon the stalk of bitterroot
falling out of skin
do we cry or do we pause?
Blown by the soft winds do we fear the rolling rivers
that run dry,
growing up I dreamed of the other side and back
enamored
I raced past red devilry of roses and laughed
I thought how lovely is death,
three words – make it last
every moment, every breath, every kiss and every act
let not the world drown your voice
let not your soul become lost in the cloud chamber,
long after midnight I sit with myself
my thoughts are wisps of lurid blue when outside everything is silent
“what do you care what other people think?”
Wouldn’t you rather waltz down the half moon street,
it’s then that I understand the doe-eyed beauty
the woman in red
though heads or tails is the politics of money
in the end we are equal in the swirling umber blur of dust
and I wonder when we reach the other side of the story,
will you remember me?

 

Photo credits: La Catrina, Margaret Bednar

Book titles: J is for judgement, The Other Side and Back, Bitterroot, Growing up, Make it last,
Cloud Chamber, Long after midnight, What do you care what other people think? Remember me,Half moon street, The Woman In Red, The Other Side of the Story.

Posted for Artistic Interpretations with Margaret @ Real Toads

 

 

52 Replies to “Aubade – Death wants nothing more than to teach us kindness”

  1. Exquisite is the word that comes to mind! little joy holding fast to pride, Silent midnight, waltzing down a half-moon street, heads/tails the politics of money, equal in the swirling umber blur of dust…. I mean really awesome! Enjoyed this poem very much.

    1. Awww gosh! ❤️ Thank you so much, Margaret 😀 so glad you enjoyed it! ❤️

      (and thank you for the lovely prompt) 🌹

  2. You’ve made death beautiful in this poem, Sanaa, especially in the lines:
    ‘I trace my finger upon the stalk of bitterroot
    falling out of skin’;
    and in the use of colour in:
    ‘I raced past red devilry of roses and laughed
    I thought how lovely is death’
    and
    ‘my thoughts are wisps of lurid blue when outside everything is silent’.

  3. I thought how lovely is death,
    three words – make it last
    every moment, every breath, every kiss and every act
    let not the world drown your voice

    I love how you have encapsulated so much in these lines – such a strong poetic voice throughout the poem, and excellent use of the book titles. A pleasure to read, Sanaa.

  4. Wow, I read this poem over and really enjoyed it. It was not until the afterwords that I realized that it was written using a number of book titles! You worked them all in so seamlessly. Some powerful phrasings….so many late-night thoughts….and what an ending….”When we reach the other side of the story, will you remember me?” That could be the beginning of a whole new poem.

  5. “I trace my finger upon the stalk of bitterroot
    falling out of skin
    do we cry or do we pause?”

    “Wouldn’t you rather waltz down the half moon street,
    it’s then that I understand the doe-eyed beauty
    the woman in red
    though heads or tails is the politics of money”

    Creative, unique, and stunning!

  6. “make it last
    every moment, every breath, every kiss and every act
    let not the world drown your voice”

    I found myself chanting this line. I love the truth and musicality of them, the invitation to resist.

  7. The thought of death as lovely is scary for me, not because I fear it so much, but I think sometimes the focus on the afterlife prevents us from seeking what’s best for everyone in this life.

  8. Memento Mori… yes. Remembering that there are limits that we cannot escape, the limit of our time in this incarnation being the largest of them, puts a little urgency into our step and reminds us to drink in all the good while there is time.

  9. After watching my grandmother and mother die, I cannot say that death is exquisite or beautiful. It is sorrowful or aweinspiring or down right ugly. Your poem though is beautiful.

  10. This poems hums with its colors and its myths–a beautiful write that sinks into the skin. Those titles work really well!

  11. It’s a pretty poem. Sanaa, movie material in my selections. I sooo like the ending, true vision of a sad and discouraged lady.. Been there.
    ..

  12. An elaborate, linger-worthy, beautifully imaged and nuanced piece that one could imagine, easily getting lost in, but you have masterfully kept a wonderful continuity in place throughout. Awesome writing, Sanaa!

  13. awesome, Sanaa, making a poem out of those book titles.
    your words remind me of a favourite song’s lyrics : “Foe or friend, we are all equal in the end.” 🙂

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