Our humanity does not lie in our goodness,
but rather it exists within our flaws,
for it's our flaws that make us interesting,
and it was because of this that I found
my aunt to be the most interesting person in the world;
for she was flawed in the most exquisite ways.

She was nothing short of a legend in my family.
Her deeds were not spoken of in day-light,
but whispered about late evenings
amidst closely clustered kitchen tables.

I remember hearing lurid tales:
she's been married twenty times -
she's been arrested before -
she's knocked out a boy's front teeth.

I never knew if these tales were true or not,
and I hope to never find out either.

I'll believe them; I'll believe in HER -
as she believed in me before:
as she believed in love and excess.
We talked shortly before her death,
What good is a life without regrets?

I was devastated when I learned that you wouldn't make it.
When it came  to my heart, your demise sure did break it.
You died 1096 days ago in 2013.
It was the worst year that I've seen.
When I saw you on life support, it was rough but facing your death was rougher.
My brother and I had you taken off the respirator so you wouldn't continue to suffer.
When you were dying, I felt helpless because there was nothing I could do.
When I found you dead on March the 6th, I had to say goodbye to you.
It took me about two years to get to feeling better about your death.
For two years I suffered tremendously after you became ill and left.
You were such a great mother that you made my brother and I better men.
Your death isn't permanent, when Jesus returns, we will see each other again.
I felt overbearing pain which made my life a mess.
Rest In Peace Mom, you were truly the greatest.

I'm sorry I couldn't save you
I'm sorry I wasn't there
I had to watch you struggle, but how would I show my care
I thought you had gotten better
I saw you start to fade
But in denial, pushed it aside and for you I tried to persuade
I knew things would improve, you didn't see the light
So that fateful time a year ago, you disappeared into the night
From that day on I promised, to remember why I live
Not always for myself, but so there's something for me to give
People will sometimes love, but as humans we also hate
Will you continue to fight? You're the one to choose your fate.

What was it like
To be who I was
Before I became
Who I am now?
You want to know
The old, old story
All about the tale
Of when and how?

You know I was not
A member of nobility.
That is not a part
Of my ignoble history.
You know I was not rich
Because I have no gold.
So, what was I after all
In my days of old?

As I was no hero
Heralded in legend songs.
I was but a normal person.
Any praise would be wrong.
There are no carvings,
Friezes on marble walls.
No horde of loyal soldiers
Rally at my urgent call.

But I can leave life
Proud to say what is true.
I died without a penny
To any other person due.
I achieved most of my dreams.
I will say that with my last breath
Between my humble life
And my inglorious death.

The family dog is dying.
On Saturday,
they press her ****** paws
in cement,
and the eldest daughter swallows
some accidentally.

The middle son is in the backyard
raking leaves
when he tells the neighbor.
The words snag along
the electric plot line
and crumble to bits beneath his teeth,
brushed back and forth into
the leaf pile.

On Sunday,
the mother unfolds the quilt
that the kids use to make forts
onto the kitchen floor.
Her muffled pats on fabric
a motion to the coffin,
the dog spins in a single circle,
then lays down to die.
“This way she will be warm
while she is still with us—”
The eldest daughter vomits
the cement up in the nearby sink.

On Monday,
the father slides his hands
against his dog’s ribs like a xylophone,
then pulls back,
afraid to sound like
the morning alarm.
The family dog is dead.

The youngest daughter takes on the role
of licking her paws,
dried prints on the tile floor
where she lays down to die.

Let me tell you about the best year of the 20th Century, a year that was great.
It was the year when my mom was born and that year was 1948.
That was the greatest year of the 20th Century, that's how I feel.
1948 was great but 2013 ****** because of a terrible ordeal.
2013 was a terrible year because that was when Mom died.
After she perished in the hospital, I came home and cried.
Please listen to this advice, don't ever take your mom for granted, she's somebody who you should always appreciate.
If I live to be a hundred, I will not change my opinion, I believe that the greatest year of the 20th Century was 1948.

They say repetition makes you remember things easier.
I forget what his face looks like every now and again I forget what his face looks like every now and again I forget what his face looks like every now and again I forget--

They say if you say a word too many times,
it loses it's meaning.
I'msorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry
sorrysorrysorryso­rrysorrysorrysorry.
Please staystaystaystaystaystaystaystay.

They say if you say something enough times...want it bad enough, it'll come true.
He'll come back to me, he'll come back to me, he'll come back to me.

They say that sometimes, if you love someone, it means you have to let them go.

But if I don't remember,

who will?

Beautiful tribute
Tended lawns
Snow white crosses
In their throngs
Men sent out
To right the wrongs
Some were knighted
Some were pawns

There are lovely
Spreading trees
Bowing in the
Scented breeze
In the winter
There to freeze
There our nation's
On its knees

There are many
Stones for heads
Punctured by
The flying lead
There are widows
For those wed
The hearts are countless

They, too, are dead.


SoulSurvivor
Memorial Day
(C) 5/25/2015