Tag Archives: eulogy

Suffer The Hummingbirds

Standard
Suffer The Hummingbirds

Death be not kind
but there can be kindness in Death.
A daily Eucharist for an ailing Catholic
and a recovering Protestant
(Almost grounds enough for a conversion.
Almost.)
But Cancer don’t check religious backgrounds
and that mass in your belly don’t care about five o’ clock Mass.
Is Lourdes open this time of year, I wonder?
Categorical miracles are, naturally, absurd
but an individual one?
In this case, I would take it
and I wouldn’t even bat an atheistic eye at it.
Who’s the sick and who’s the comforter here?
Sometimes it’s difficult to tell, Grandma.
More often than not I feel as if I’m
one disjointed thought away
from a straight jacket fitting
and you’re holding both of us together
with softly sanctimonious composure.
But you do grow weary sometimes
and swear you’ll pray to die soon
and I look at you with deadpan eyes
and say,
“Grandma, I tried that for decades and it didn’t work
but then again I’m not as devout as you.
Although you’re too good of a Catholic to phone in an
honest-to-purgatory suicide request.”
And we both laugh and fill your hummingbird feeder
because they need tending to just as much as we do. Read the rest of this entry

A Self-Protesting Eulogy Penned By Shaky Guilty Survivor’s Hands (For Dan)

Standard
A Self-Protesting Eulogy Penned By Shaky Guilty Survivor’s Hands (For Dan)

What is a eulogy?
A eulogy is a poor summation
of a life far more complicated
and diverse than
words on a page
(even the kind ones
of which you are more than deserving,
Dan).

A eulogy is a post-dated bad check
passed between shaky guilty
survivor’s hands and
Death,
that most crooked and
undiscriminating of merchants.

A eulogy is a love letter
an affidavit
a confession
(on the part of the guilty party–
the bereaved)
with postage that falls
one cent short
and will always
inevitably
eternally
return to sender.

Read the rest of this entry

Pistolwhip’s Passing

Standard
Pistolwhip’s Passing

(In honor of Saint Patrick’s Day. Written in 2006 or 2007 at Kip’s in Berkeley on the spot to impress a girl. Pistolwhip was a moniker I used to use.)

Drank himself a grave at twenty-one.
He loved his mirth, he loved his fun.
He loved his mum and he loved his dad.
He loved the good, he loved the bad.
He loved the rich and he loved the poor.
But the sad truth is he loved liquor more.

Pistolwhip’s Passing

Standard
Pistolwhip’s Passing

(Poem composed on the spot in a bar in Berkeley in 2007 to impress a girl. Drawing composed in a pizza joint in Newport in 2011 to impress nobody in particular.)

Drank himself a grave at twenty-one.
He loved his mirth, he loved his fun.
He loved his mum and he loved his dad.
He loved the good, he loved the bad.
He loved the rich and he loved the poor.
But the sad truth is he loved liquor more.

Read the rest of this entry