Poems from My Deathbed (and Just Beyond)
(The convention in a Japanese Death poem is that the author wrote it on his/her deathbed. But many composed their poems ahead of time, as I have here.)
1.
More than ever cherishing
this universe that I am to myself
my three trillion galaxies flickering –
signaling: lights out.
2.
Wish I could talk to others in my condition.
Everyone around me plans still to be alive
this time next week.
3.
The first few days are rough, they say.
You don’t even know you’re dead.
Friends, don’t get lost in grief!
I’ll need to talk things over
more than ever.
4.
Never enough, so we compare.
Eye each other’s share.
Money, fame, love, luck –
Here. I throw mine back.
6.
Each chariot trails a fine-toothed rake.
On a course of swept sand
our sprint leaves no trace.
7.
Near death, for comfort,
who’ll take my death poems
down from the shelf? Others? Myself?
8.
The sheepfold is empty of sheep.
Grass, fence, an open gate . . .
memories, dreams, reflections
all escaped.
9.
A long-gone colleague in his boxers
watched as his house burned down
with the only copy of his dissertation in it.
Now I don’t have to make it into a book, he rejoiced.
Now I don’t have to make anything work.
10.
Up and doing! Up and being!
As if Existence
were all there is. Look,
it’s been amazing
but (tapping her wrist)
I gotta go.
Party on, people! My best to the new arrivals.
I love you all.
Goodbye.
Notes
This universe that I am to myself is a phrase from Fernando Pessoa’s The Book of Disquiet.
The first few days are rough. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, you don’t know you’re dead for five to seven days. All kinds of demons make this a perfectly miserable time.
Memories, dreams, reflections is the title of C.G. Jung’s famous autobiography of his own inner life.
