Skirmish 5: The Winter's Bed; An Ode to Suicide
The leaves all have fallen
and the ground is covered with soot.
I walk to and fro
among the ruins of this city
fearing each step
will show me a face
of those whom I loved
but whom I can no longer know
This life has worth
now, only now, as I scrape
up the ashes and put them in my mouth
taste the desiccated bodies
of those who had borne me through
such tempestuous throes
as life is made of,
made me capable and fierce.
O, unreal God - fear not
that these are my last hours
for they have been made sweet
with resignation. The snowy scene
alights with an effervescence,
a brightness beyond light,
a levity that makes this hard earth
a beautiful scene for departure.
posted by Jackie | 12:57 AM
2 Comments:
this is my favorite so far, because it is the most immense, but not in a gaudy and maudlin fashion. the apostrophe is the truest apostrophe when you band your audience as"unreal", yet it signifies the want of even the secularist to log is life, to have things defined in some sense, and as this is the final momets of your life, you are looking for the "final definition" that Heidegger talks about, and so you must take your own tally, but objectify it in a holloe parody of the way religionists have done it through the centuries. brightness beyond light is good because it is accurate. and "a beautiful scene for departure" . . . one debates with himself, pulling out his drawers, leaving the shower on, leaving his mail unchecked, the whole time in a frenzy, about whether he find consolation in that scene for departure or not. As the beginning, there are leaves of life, and ashes of death, both on the ground and so they both define your path.
Capable and fierce, enough to resign.
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