WHEN I DIE

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Death
    • Arutee4ever
    • is same person as Raymond Tom Oyil of "raycreations", a literary outfit in my room which contains all my published and unpublished works, including an autobiography, BORN TO LIVE, published in 2008 in commemoration of my diamond jubilee on planet earth. I am a retired, but tireless and hungry seeker of knowledge through reading, writing, observing, deep thinking and evoking and accepting constructive criticism. Please read and comment on my poems. All my love.

    Poem Commentary

    In my part of the world, corpses of the dead, particularly those adjudged to be high and prominent in social status, are kept in morgues for pretty long periods of time to enable his family and kindred consult the oracles for the cause of death and prepare for elaborate funeral ceremonies which entail dancing, feasting and ostentatious display of wealth. The corpse of the dead is richly dressed and laid in-state in public for all and sundry to have a last glimpse of before it is interred. The goal of this poem is to discourage such wasteful practices and assert the fact that we deserve, even when we die, the same privacy we enjoyed when we lived.

    WHEN I DIE
    When I die as die we must,
    Another home for me do not create in a morgue,
    But commit me within forty-eight hours after my call,
    Six feet down on my "Endurance Villa's" forecourt.

    When I die as die we must
    And the revelers and wailers gather to dance or mourn,
    My numb and ugly body do not lay in the hall
    For all eyes to leer at, jeer and mock.

    When I die as die we must,
    And I return from whence I came, the dust,
    Another reason do not seek in the oracle's dingy hut.
    Submit to divine will and see it as every mortal's lot.

    As my "enemies" their celebration cake cut,
    Allow them "rejoice" with the mental yoke they've got,
    Till death, the great leveler decides their turn
    To answer the sure, certain and inevitable call.


    Copyright (c) Raymond Oyil 2009
    Arutee4ever, raycreations, Port Harcourt, Nigeria

    Poem Comments

    (1)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    warsaw commented on WHEN I DIE

    08-29-2009

    Very deep and very wordy I enjoyed it very much thank you for sharing sincerely WARSAW
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Arutee4ever’s Poems (6)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    HER NAME IS "MOTHER" 1 10/21/2009
    MOTHER 0 10/06/2009
    ERRANT CHILD, LEST YOU FORGET 3 07/05/2009
    A NOTE FOR THE LIVING WHEN I DIE 2 02/02/2009
    WHEN I DIE 1 07/13/2009
    TIME 2 02/01/2009
    Top of Page