Poems Anyone?

Hey guys…I’m not sure how many people read this but, anyways – someone, whoever you are – I’ve got a poem that I didn’t think to publish until I read a book blurb related to death. I’m sorry if this sounds a bit dark from what I usually post but it’s a real eye-opener once you really read the whole thing. (Ironic – I’m listening to Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile right now.)

By Joe Brainard

           Death is a funny thing. Most people are afraid of it, and yet

they don’t even know what it is.

           Perhaps we can clear this up.

           What is death?

           Death is it. That’s it. Finished. “Finito.” Over and out. No

more.

           Death is many different things to many different people. I

think it is safe to say, however, that most people don’t like it.

            Why?

            Because they are afraid of it.

            Why are they afraid of it?

            Because they don’t understand it.

           I think that the best way to try to understand death is to

think about it a lot. Try to come to terms with it. Try to really

understand it. Give it a chance!

           Sometimes it helps if we try to visualize things.

           Try to visualize, for example, someone sneaking up behind

your back and hitting you over the head with a giant hammer.

           Some people prefer to think of death as a more spiritual

thing. Where the soul somehow separates itself from the mess

and goes on living forever somewhere else. Heaven and hell being

the most traditional choices.

           Death has a very black reputation but, actually, to die is a

perfectly normal thing to do.

           And it’s so wholesome: being a very important part of

nature’s big picture. Trees die, don’t they? And flowers?

           I think it’s always nice to know that you are not alone. Even

in death.

           Let’s think about ants for a minute. Millions of ants die

every day, and do we care? No. And I’m sure that ants feel the

same way about us.

           But suppose—just suppose—that we didn’t have to die.

That wouldn’t be so great either. If a 90-year-old man can hardly

stand up, can you imagine what it would be like to be 500 years

old?

           Another comforting thought about death is that 80 years or

so after you die nobody who knew you will still be alive to miss

you.

           And after you’re dead, you won’t even know it.

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