Posts tagged ‘Death’

September 9, 2013

we are the lucky ones

by jhon baker

– in part for Richard Dawkins

 

I don’t enjoy needed tears of rejuvenation

or the venerability of emotional transendance

 

the heart pumps

from ventricle to ventricle

through fifty miles of capillaries

blood that offers life

and one day must stop cold

 

and we are the lucky ones

so said

for we are here when so many

never were

 

– Hoc Scripsi

November 11, 2012

From ‘hands on the hips’

by jhon baker

Meditation on the death of a soldier

 

life ended abruptly by the

bullet of another’s weapon

paid for by a master neither

one of you has ever met

weapon that was cleaned

with as much care as yours

and placed firmly in hand by

another country such as yours

and without thought, fired to

bring ends to ideals and have

certain glory from gods or God

fired a bullet that ended it’s

own journey in your body

your body, which lies there

weapon in hand that surely would

have ended the bullets owner

if given the chance

 

this is the death that you have chosen

 

as if picked out from a catalogue

listed under ‘means of dispatch’

and you nation mourns forgetting

your choice

never blaming the decisions

that placed you there

yours and your masters

 

but I am colder and I cheer

not at your death but

at the end you were able to choose

for yourself

I am not so lucky and

I will die unknowing from where

the bullets came

September 22, 2011

by jhon baker

Today I awoke to news of the death of a potentially innocent man. I have had nothing to say since and now this is all I could think of.

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September 17, 2011

thinking of Micael

by jhon baker

– For MC

 

make no monument to this body,

let the rivers and roads winding on maps

and fields flowing into one another

from the birds view of a plane

serve as testament.

 

May there be no wall of remembrance

where people touch hands for famous photographs.

what a landscape of crows couldn’t bring into thought

make no admonition,

no stone effigy.

 

have no moment of whispering

but shout, shout, shout out

your poetry, fill empty halls

and capital domes. dance, alone

or together, naked in halls and alleyways.

ride your full moon lunacy

 

down one way streets and secret passageways.

eclipse your broken lifeline,

draw borders onto subway station walls –

trip to new york, Louisiana, Chicago and LA

rip your clothes off in stage lit drag shows,

 

ride the rays of the sun,

 

– Hoc Scripsi

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April 30, 2011

now in NC

by jhon baker

From a response to a comment left on this blog    with some additions and edits for clarity, namely my own.

We are now in NC – arriving this morning we were greeted by my extended family as though we were the most dearly loved people of all earth. These are some of the best people I have ever known as they have always been like this toward my wife, son and I.

Lunch, attempt at a nap and dinner with dessert and some memories shared. A beautiful occasion.
It had not occurred to me when I was asked to read the poem and the paragraph from the letter that I would be the only one to read outside of the person giving the eulogy. Out of the myriad of people that my Aunt knew and were ever so close to apparently it was me that she felt a true bond outside her daughters and husband.

I learned today that she kept my book beside her bed where she spent the last eight months of her life and my letters adjacent – often rereading them with utter joy. The weight of the honor I feel and indebtedness to her and her family is immense without being burdensome. We never know how much we truly mean to someone in this life and I am now so touched to know how my letters, phone calls and poetry had lifted her – her daughters even went so far as to say that the letters were a reason she kept going. I only wish she had read the one I was writing when she passed.

though I can no longer dance, I still think every day of the twostep.

That letter along with three more I delivered today among the pile of read/received letters. The total aspect of loss hit me in that moment. If I could ever live so fully and beautifully as she – even half that I would perish a loved and good man. 

Today I read my public testament to her – my words of embrace to her loved remaining here without her deepest constant grace. The most beautiful of words can never offer what she simply did in her warmth and friendship.
Forever I will remember her, always as my beloved friend and her love’s magnanimity.

for your name is scrawled across my heart, for these memories tethered there for all time.

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