My sister read this at my nan’s funeral. To help her not cry I practiced it with her as a rap song and did beat boxing for her every time she practiced. When she got up to do the speech I did a b.l.o.o.d gang hand sign at her and she laughed instead haha.
do not stand by my grave and weep
stand by the grave of margaret thatcher and piss
I love the indentations and line breaks of the original when first published:
Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die.— Clare Harner, The Gypsy, December 1934
Beautiful
prosepoetry, thanks for sharing fartsparkles@lemmy.worldThis is poetry not prose
Ty, edited!
This is what my mother wants me to remember her by when she goes.
It hurts.
I’m so so so sorry to hear that.
I hope you can find some warmth in knowing, ahead of time, a poem that means a lot to her and that you can hold on to and always remember her by.
My heart goes out to you.
Beautiful.
Identity is just something our brains invent to better make sense of the world. It doesn’t exist as anything other than a thought. You are the universe and the universe is me. The only thing that goes away when anything “dies”, is the illusory and self-imposed border between the “individual” and the rest of it all.
Yeah we’re like waves in an ocean that break, recede, and are re-formed. I do kinda miss my dead family members tho.
Goddamn onion ninjas…
Nature is poetry.
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Um, ackschually…
The flickering of them in the atmosphere is her so it’s just justified enough for a poem
So… Chickens = zombie dinosaurs? /s
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