A Eulogy of Shadow Words (poem)

In this life
We are given gifts we choose to be curses
Taking our words
And twisting them into furious verses.

[A eulogy of shadow words...]

She spent years studying calligraphy.
Using pen and ink
Imitating the ebbs and flows
Of words
creating a paragraph of water
Her poetry and prose
Going down stream.
All letters, perfectly aligned
Knowing their exact place
On the page.

Knowing their purpose.

Her hand, moving with need.
Furiously scribbling.
Intent on raw images.
Writing was art for her
The art of passion
The art of war
As ink turned to poison in her pen.
Cloaked in the flesh of regal letters
They changed, rearranged
and became stained words.

I weep as they bite me.

All letters, perfectly aligned
Knowing their exact place
On the page.

Knowing their purpose...

And yet, she could not see,
Could not grasp in her hands
That the pen
Is mightier
Than a fist.
Mightier still
Than the bruises
Written on her soul.

So instead
She tasted the rainbow and closed her eyes,
One candy coated pill at a time,
Until I forget what she looked like
When she smiled.
Until I forget if I ever saw her smile.

In this life
We are given gifts we choose to be curses
Taking our words
And twisting them into furious verses
Words that crackle, words that burn
Words turned to ash in the bottom of your urn.

[A eulogy of shadow words...]

I can't help but wonder,
If all that will remain of me when I'm gone
Are shadow words.

Originally written Oct. 13th, 2009, for my mother.