Thoughts of a dead man ( Aka – Do not Eulogize me when i’m dead)

Stuck here in this expensive coffin-
it must have cost a fortune for this

load of rotting flesh…

Everyone knows that i didn’t have a cent

to my name- but what the heck…

i might as well get comfortable

in this fine tux and shoes.
Fading hymns and whispers…
An eulogy i almost recognize,

disgusting lamentations that

now clog this stuffed up cotton wool in my nose-

a woeful dirge bringing back memories

of granny’s funeral created an aura of peace…
Blurry images almost as familiar
as the best sexual experience
i had with mama Kapere while
she was still single and sexy.
I bet she wore that black dress
that holds her curvy belle derriere
in place-
Praying that her soft mourns by

my grave-side turn into sexual
I am still as perverted even with
this rotting flesh. Good times,

while i was alive, some good times.

A few moments of irritation and disappointment-

they must have taken all my little property and

now mock me with good words at my pathetic funeral.
I was broke and weary, they shunned me away-
through the blistering cold, my voice broke;

all they fed me with were excuses, disappointments

my sorry ass got accustomed to- i accepted the harsh reality yet i wept.
For months my debts, loneliness, stress kept me hostage
The leaking roof chorused in unison, songs of hope…

Yet in my quiet they faded to distress cries at dawn.
Months without hope- as i turned from office to office-

bleeding knees and feet.
Without a penny- and cast out friends and family.

Sickness must have caressed me through my last days
Kissed me through the dark hours even with the howls

in the hospital corridors as i fought for my life.

At 29, dead at 29. Among the dead now, without continuity!
I didn’t even have a chance to get a damsel pregnant

for i was too broke and ratchet when i roamed among the living.

Now they eulogize me in fake somber tones!
An elegy would suffice you selfish people!

For even with the fading of the requiem mass,

i’m most thankful for death.

Quiet now, quiet now…
Don’t filtrate my grave with flowers and

all the mushy shit…a few words, let me rest…

Take heart, my mama Kapere. Through the cruel world,

you shared with me your fried cassava and dry tea,

covered me with your cheap blanket through the cold…

stayed by my bedside till i breathed my last.

Take heart as the last pieces of earth cover me up

and everyone leaves

Now i rest
I rest
My final home.

Home at last!2


Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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