Death Bed -poem

Imagine beautiful words, imminently bountiful, all

The one’s I have read

While being sick

And while simply wanting a fresh loaf of bread

while drinking wine, coffee,

fleeing from something wicked

and divorcing myself of pain

rejoicing in love

gaining yet again and again

while

planning a purchase

buying a house

planning a wedding

building a home

birthing a child

breathing a new dream

coming together

shattering apart like a scream

when lonely, together and

yet again feeling alone

a page turned, a dog-ear

a traveling mercy, a glance

a memory, a gentle knowing look

curved and straight and crossed over

and under as I drink my tea

the luxury, the challenge

the ever present friendship,

not just a cold book

Imagine the sentences creeping out

From the woodwork

The curves in my brain

Coming and gathering

Humming once, yet again

Characters, plots and drivel

Of page upon page

On the ocean, in the forest

A princess, an imaginary stage

The kiss, the sleep, the drivel

The loss, and the gain

Coming back to visit me again and again

I’m in it, living with it, I am within it

Imagine the little ones I curled through my tongue

In whispers while waiting on diagnosis

recovering from operations

and lobotomies of the heart

with plots cemented,

I never did come undone

Nor did I even dare fall apart!

Imagine…yes imagine!

the ones recited to me when I was still very young

joining together with those gathered

in twenties, thirties and decades beyond,

The ones marching in sunlight

And those taken despite shaded by rain

In sickness, and health

In happiness and in pain

Lined up soldiers forming words

Stamping their directives like war games

Across every page

Characters created elsewhere

Just for….

for my own personal imaginary stage

Picture them, a billion images

Vital, viral and gore

Them

One by one

Crawling into the blankets

The sheets

Of my death bed

I really want for nothing more!

Imagine those

Lovingly gathered,

Remembered with bliss

Repeated, mattered, and sealed

With a literary kiss

The stories, their sentences

The that’s and the things that happened like this

Traveling across the miles of time

Stroking the moon, your moon and mine

The ones ingested in morning

And regurgitated back, endeared to me

By mid-afternoon

The ones I saved, rewritten

Painted on walls, left there with swoon

Those must be saved

For the wealth of visitors, one and then all

There’ll be no phone call to make

I will not be scared when

Happily ever after arrives

The sentences will re-warm me

I will not be alone

In “the end”

When its time for me to die

I’ll be covered in stories,

Warmed by the sweetest fairy tale

For all of those sentences

Will gather together

And forever remain

Bury me with pages, one from every nook

They will keep me, repeat to me

And remove from me all pain

Books have sustained me

Bled with me

Cried with me

Please bury them in my blankets

Sheet upon glorious well worn sheet

Please don’t send me away

With no literary relief

Stash them, and stow them

In each crevice galore

When you think you have brought enough

Please bring me some more!

         
The sentences will hug me, protect me

No lie

Bury me under words, counted in thousands times more

Please promise me

For then you have no reason to cry

As I will read through my death bed

And forever after find joy

And if you torch me

Like I say that you really should and you just must!

Add all of my pages, my books I adore

Burn us together, together forevermore

Then scatter us on beaches, on sand, and on the shore

Like the prettiest sea shells, turned dust unto dust

Note to Keith: Don’t forget to throw in the “leg” books…