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Tuesday, May 8, 2012

We are dust, not gods.

I wrote this on April 16th, the night before someone potentially threatened to shoot up my school. (They scrawled it on a bathroom stall.) I doubted I was in any serious danger, but I thought I might as well write a goodbye poem. It's sentimental, but not sappy, I like to think. I wanted to say a good goodbye, but I more than anything wanted to be honest.

We are dust, not gods.
Gravity is God, and atomic attraction
But we are not gods
We fall, skeleton leaves, from winter branches,
Drifting down angel-eyed on the jingling breeze
We sink to the earth and then sigh contented
As tree roots spiral around our limbs, and
Roses grow from our shimmering skulls
No, we are not gods. we are dust.
But our souls live in the constellations, I hear
And swim in the sunset—doves!
We are geese breathing the clouds in the sky flying free
This is good—I like geese.
But we are not gods
And if the Universe collapses in on itself
In a confused mess of a spiderweb death
Or the Sun putters out or we scorch the skies with fire bombs
I know we’ll have lived and laughed and loved
And I have lived and laughed and loved
We must still exist in some stained-glass window
Dimension in the Universe, frozen moment—eternal
Our smiles and dreams and amber pearls of memory
Petrified in time, infinite somehow
We are men, not gods. we are dust! we are grass!
And we’ll grow and die and we’ll grow, like grass
And I? I will cry as Dust in my grave
I will smile and weep and grown into roses and trees
We are dust, not gods.
Thank God for that

4 comments:

Bookish.Spazz said...

Can I get this engraved on my tombstone?

Seriously though. Very nice work.

RainboRevolver said...

This is really, really beautiful. You have a really fantastic talent for arranging words. You should compile and publish your work.

Kay said...

"But our souls live in the constellations, I hear"

I love that line.

Mack said...

This is honestly beautiful. Or beautifully honest.

(Really, both.)

I am really happy you started writing again. I mean, you started writing a while ago and I just hadn't noticed, but your poetry is significant and lovely.