dying wishes

so for the past few days I've spent a lot of time thinking about death. Not because I want to die, just because of certain events bringing it to mind. If you know me, you already know I want all evidence of my existence destroyed; but that's not all. When I die, if I die young, I want to be painted as my god form, placed in my best suit, and put in a room with my closest friends. Beav is to play "Evil Will Prevail" by the Flaming Lips; if I fail to come back to life, I wish to be incinerated with my closest possessions. If at all possible (and I will attempt to arrange this myself), I want my ashes sent into outer space on the next space flight by NASA or any other country's space administration; once in space I want my ashes released into the vast, cold darkness so that I may wander the universe in everlasting peace. But if that doesn't work, I want to either be sprinkled on Serj Tankian's lawn or just rested somewhere cool that I would enjoy... maybe with the weeping vine... I just don't want to sit in a jar on someone's mantle, not even for one minute. Peace, love, and understanding. -AK.

Dakota

YOU ARE LIFE.

AND IN YOU, I BREATHE.

OUR MINDS CIRCULATE VIGOROUSLY THROUGHOUT,
OUR RAPID HEARTS BEATING, SHIVERING.

A NERVOUS NIGHT WE SHARED
THAT WE VOWED WE WOULD RELIVE
IF EVER WE HAD THE CHANCE.

OUR FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER,
AS ONE SOUL, ONE BODY.

I CANNOT FIND WORDS DEEP ENOUGH
TO EXPRESS THE LOVE ENTRANCED
BETWEEN THE TWO OF US,
WAY BACK WHEN.

BACK IN DAKOTA.

been off for a while

but things tend to spin that way... starting up writing again... check up on my short story page occasionally.... earnyourstripes-ak.blogspot.com

let's call it canticle

bring me sanity,
bring me peace,
bring me rest and bring me leisure.

give me tomorrow
or even next week,
give me nothing or give me forever.

calm your sorrows,
dry your tears,
stand back up and let me guide you.
and it's been almost twenty years
yet there's still no soul inside you.

so after nothing, I might have found
that love is just a notion,
but without love and peace and grace
the earth might cease its motion.

the thought that I may not exist
is enough to make you scream,
but the day you die, you'll awake to find
it was nothing but a dream.

so let us sing this canticle
and live on, merrily;
because, real or not, I'm more than content
In my reverie.