You all tell me I'm born smart.
How you can't take it to heart
When I tell
You to chill-- how I've done too well
To say
That 4 hours a day
Is enough.
How studying
Hasn't been
Rough or tough
For me.
How I should just let
You all get
More stressed without
Trying to tell you about
Just how hard I know
You've worked
And how much I've seen you grow.
How a good friend
Can't attempt to end
Your panicking.
How I'm not lacking
In the areas you
Do.
How I won't understand
Your parents' demands.

I get it.
I really do.
Why else would I be trying
To help you?

Maybe if you took
A step back from your books
Then you'd see
How it didn't all
Fall
In place for me.
How I've put in
The effort needed for a win.
How although I haven't spent
My nights studying, how time went
By in class;
Glass-
Glazed eyes from only staring
At the teachers as they walk past.
Not caring
About how much I carried
The team, just so
Everyone could go
Ahead for an A.
And how they
Never seemed to know
How long I spent in the glow
Of my computer screen.

I know you all don't mean
It. But I've worked hard too.
I do
Understand you.
You know,
In this scenario,
I don't think that I'm the friend
That doesn't comprehend
The stress that's sent you round the bend.

In the darkness of the night, a soul does fade
Through the veil of death, it starts to wade
Life slipping away, like sand through fingers
Leaving behind memories that forever lingers
The breath grows shallow, the heart beats slow
As the final moments begin to show
The body grows cold, the spirit takes flight
Leaving behind a world of endless night
In the stillness of the room, a loved one weeps
As the reaper comes to claim what he keeps
A life once vibrant, now still and cold
A story left untold, a tale left unsold
But in the end, we all must part
It's the cycle of life, the beating heart
So cherish each moment, hold them near
For in the blink of an eye, they may disappear
And when the time comes for us to go
May we find peace in the afterglow
For death is not an end, but a new beginning
A journey into the unknown, a chance for winning.

I take my mother

on her last journey and God --


himself welcomes her.

Darling, you can die

peacefully, you'll stay with me --


cradled in my heart.

because she’s still wearing her diamond earrings
and they still bloom
reflections in flour-coated sunsets
in pre-dawned hospital windows at dusk and beyond
they don’t come off
obtrusive and quiet and every spark
bright where her eyes haven’t been
lately she’s not all there so i should be
holding on tightly

because her hands are battlefields
her eyes are blizzards
and she ate half a scoop of strawberry ice cream
just last week it was just the other day
she said my name

because i can see every jolt
her heart now beats
tsunamis that slam her ribcage and there’s no higher ground

because she still sits up in bed head in palms
and asks what day it is like the churches aren’t shut
like her hallways aren’t gathering dust

because when she sleeps she dreams of a lovely ghost
with a shovel and pre-technicolor dirt on his cheeks
and he wants to be with her again

because when she wakes
she wonders before
she remembers
she forgot

because we remember we sit in the living room
we flood our eyes with laughter
and dead lambs and fish and loaves of bread and wooden spoons
and chicken cordon bleu
and i want her to hear and taste and see and smile
again against homemade wine the singing in summer the accordions i never got to hear

because she still asks me what i ate for dinner(though it’s only lunchtime)
and until she can no longer speak--

I keep saying I carried
Us alone for a year,
In the face of
Abhorrence - derision and rage,
In truth some of each with
Much good reason,

I keep saying,
As you did,
That my love is not enough,
Keep saying that now
It's your time to shine and that Indeed now you must,

And yet even as you
Reach out in a way
I am supposed to honour,
Your tone is dipped
In censure and rebuke,
Accusation and deep ire,

What you seem not
To understand is you
Are in fact,
For all your vaunted effort,
Merely nailing our coffin lid,
Firmly,

Shut.

As I get older I don’t dread death coming closer.
It is closer.
It will come as a newborn:
seeding so long in me,
that I would chide it for taking its time.
I will not scream when it head comes out my body.
I won’t even be amused by such a Hollywood trick.
And when its held before my eyes
trickling with all my blood
I will simply reach out and hold it close
to my chest,
run my fingers over its head
until it stops wailing,
grows silent-
and there is nothing left for me to say to it,
nothing left to do
but  kiss this  life of mine,
shed a joyful yet mournful tear
and wait for it and myself
to fall asleep.

i’m preparing for a funeral that isn’t meant to happen yet.

i dig a grave
and carve a stone.

i’m not dead yet.
but i feel like i am dying.

it will save them doing this
when i am gone.

it is easier to prepare for a funeral that hasn’t happened yet.
than one you didn’t think you’d have to prepare for at all.