Writing in PostMortem

Bound are we to the limits of genes

The shells we call skin

The cells that thrive in waiting decay

Through the air that gives life in dying

Such is the meaning in our waking:

To walk through a curse unbreaking

Across a crowded road that’s ending

Along with those whom we end up being


We wake and breathe in forgetting

We work and toil in forgetting

We hold on to the voices of our love ones

Either if they be beside us or inside us

As we take in the shadows of the light

Fluttering in the dust of our body, our life’s hourglass.

Before we walk through the edge of the road

And into the clouds that dance in the void of our birth

We know in our every walking night

The unnamed others who touch it before us

And we know we too will be unnamed

To others who will live after us

After our memories flutter in the world’s unknowable being.

For what it is to live in forgetting

When one may live in the road remembering

the constructs of the world’s being

Staring through the eyes of the neon crowd

Or the warring, hateful, peaceful crowd

Swirling in the sea of ugly colors as diverse

As the many bodies of Beauty.

It may not be living remembering

The shell to which we our bound

Or to the others whom we bound ourselves

But it is in the spark of our minds

The act of recalling, even those impossible to recall

(But which we do with eagerness).

And we recall, and we help each other recall.

As such in the crowded road to death

It is in others whom we know we live

So even though we toil in forgetting

We sharing in writing recalling

The ways 



          No one

could be living.

For this prompt:

If you’re like most of us, you need to earn money by working for a living. Describe your ultimate job. If you’re in your dream job, tell us all about it — what is it that you love? What fulfills you? If you’re not in your dream job, describe for us what your ultimate job would be.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us WORK.

I haven’t got a chance to share poetry recently, since I was so busy with school and exams. But it was a beautiful week to, because I got to rekindle an old friendship with someone from high school. I thought I was a horrible friend to him, but he still considers me as his best friend.

I am glad I was able to make someone happy even in the worst years of my life.

For this prompt I just let my mind sing about writing. To live a life and work of writing and learning has long been my dream and passion, and I am working to live it in the future even when the odds pull me towards a dull job behind a government desk doing nothing but paperwork. While being rich would be a plus, just to have my basic needs and the opportunity to write, read, learn, and do things would be enough for me. No one ever needs much to be happy in life, only contentment. Of course, aspiring to be rich and affluent is something else.

I really do hope I live it in the future. I really do.


3 thoughts on “Writing in PostMortem

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