Sep 2018
BECOMING MY WORDS...
I've been so many
Donall Dempseys
it's hard to remember
which one is which.
Every time I arrive
at a different me.
All this making and
unmaking me
to greet the next
moment I am to be.
Death, I guess
will be a holiday
from myself
the new me I'll never see.
Ahhhh, as Walt once said:
"If you want me again look for me
under your boot-soles."
Hopefully one day
I shall become
my words only
only my words.
I've been so many
Donall Dempseys
it's hard to remember
which one is which.
Every time I arrive
at a different me.
All this making and
unmaking me
to greet the next
moment I am to be.
Death, I guess
will be a holiday
from myself
the new me I'll never see.
Ahhhh, as Walt once said:
"If you want me again look for me
under your boot-soles."
Hopefully one day
I shall become
my words only
only my words.
“I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean
But I shall be good health to you nonetheless
And filter and fibre your blood.”
― Walt Whitman
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean
But I shall be good health to you nonetheless
And filter and fibre your blood.”
― Walt Whitman
(Guildford)
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