Do you want your last words noted,
oft repeated, and endlessly quoted?
More than wit and wisdom, you'll need timing,
and, in my case, they'll be rhyming.
Promises made promises broken,
a continuum as long as spring follows winter.
An inevitable sequence, a metal chain,
locking all pledges of honesty into a dishonest oath.
These loyal pledges will fail for both.
It may not be the promises broken,
instead the subject matter of the pledge.
If the adjuration for an honest pact
was a lifetime bond,
it may be here promises hold strong.
If there was a day
when becoming cross at a loved one
was the last breath spoken to them,
would you honor a promise to yourself
never to let that happen again.
One never knows the last time it will be,
causal callous words last spoken a tragedy.
Then all let’s make this promise together,
a pact that will be kept now and forever.
Words to one another will always have
respect, dignity and love, assuring this pact not broken,
never knowing it could be the last words spoken.
“To my unbounded sorrow,”
said the famous Nostradamus,
“the gods are out to harm us.
I won’t make it to tomorrow.”
He died that very night.
At least he got one thing right!
The day I die will be as sad as the day I was born
I will be a shooting star to the night sky
I will be nobody, nowhere and nothing
A fate seemingly better than dying to live
For I smile when I'm empty
I will smile when I'm happy
And smile the brightest when I know the end is near
- k.a.j
“Gun violence is the price we have to pay to uphold our Second Amendment rights to bear arms”
—Charlie Kirk
his life the price paid
Charlie’s take on mass shootings…
cool down rhetoric
The world, my son
is one big market
people buying, people selling
some winning, some just walking through.
I was once a loud voice in it
Trading dreams, chasing deals
but today, I feel quiet
like the shop is closing.
Lying here, I hear something
a whisper, maybe a name
and I think it’s time
to pack my things.
Son, listen to me
life is trade and timing.
When your chance comes
don’t hesitate to sell your best.
Now go
make your profit with grace.
My work is done.
Farewell.
He looked at me, eyes dull and cold,
“What the hell are you doing here?”
And just like that-my heart caved in,
Shattered by the words I feared.
I had come with love in trembling hands,
A daughter needing something small-
Just a soft goodbye, a crack of light,
But he built another wall.
I stood there stunned, not sure to speak,
Not sure if he even saw
The child behind my grown-up face
Still reaching through the flaw.
I wanted to scream, I’m your daughter,
I’m here because I care,
But his voice was sharp, and full of fire,
And none of that was there.
I tried to make sense of his anger,
Was it pain that made him blind?
Was it cancer eating through his words,
Or the damage in his mind?
Cirrhosis, Hep C, too many wounds-
They stole the man I knew.
And maybe somewhere deep inside,
He missed me coming through.
But all I have are those last words,
They echo in my chest-
Not “I love you,” not “thank you,”
Not even “I wish you the best.”
And still I wonder, every night-
If he’d been without his disease-
Would he have instead changed
His final words to me?
The Last Words
"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." You said,
The remaining coherence
As you struggled on your bed
It didn't right away sink in my head,
Absolute courage was my preference
Not knowing your own preference
Glowing away in your exhausted eyes,
You didn't have to apologize...
But did you expect me to let go?
Nothingness. Emptiness. Silence.
All rolled together—pain and sorrow,
A thread was cut to your preference.
They all left, we are alone again,
You, surrounded by wreaths, in your final bed
I on the wooden bench, beneath the rain
That no one sees falling on my head.
You're still sleeping, but never to rise again,
I'm still sitting, but never to be the same again
And it finally sunk in my head,
Your last words shouldn't have been said.
Mar. 24, 2025/12:23AM
What did the wind feel like--
Blowing against your back
Riddled with whispers
You heard or imagined or both?
Was it cold,
The ground?
Did it scrape your knees
on the way down?
Or could you even notice through the noise?
I want to know
Was it hard to live in a world
that wanted you dead?
Is that why you couldn’t do it?
Tell me, please
I need to know
Was it all too much for you in the end
Or worse,
Did it never feel like enough?
to whom I offend
gift my unpoetic end ~
I fall on my pen
My cat is so beautiful,
So saintly it appears,
Yet selfishness reached her bones
Sacrifices are made,
And she doesn't realize,
And sweat lost means nothing, to her
Greed replaced her heart,
And her hypocrisy is a natural gift,
And I'm torn as she set her back away
I'm running out of time my cat,
And parting with you hurts more,
Yet I must endure the pain, for cancer
has no cure
My cancer near pituitary hurts,
But leaving my cat hurts more,
As I found nothing to fill her greed,
Yet she might spoil other cats around her
Those Tommies send their planes in large amounts
They drop their bombs but all they do is bounce
Like rubber balls their bouncy bombs all missed
Those British pilots must be really…
*
The steward asked the ‘Lady’ won’t you please enjoy our boat
The RMS Titanic is the safest ship afloat
The lady huffed and said a little service would be nice
I’ve got my gin and tonic… could you organise some ice?
*
Vesuvius is puffing out some wispy smoke today
They say there could be fireworks to brighten up Pompeii
How many more times will they say that mountain’s gonna go
And won’t somebody tell me what’s a pyroclastic…
…
Oh!
*
I learned my skills in marketing back in seventy three
For twelfth century Pisa was a training ground for me
I proved my salesmanship to market trader, Uncle Neville
I even got a few quid for that dodgy spirit level
Writing the final chapter…
the bells in the tower ring for me
Once for each phrase unwritten
twice for each grievance atoned
—as—
“Schoolchildren rise
pulling back the covers on the flowering meadow
Singing my words
blessing the fields as they run
“Memory half gone
released into the cradle of times rebirth
Taking what I gave
and leaving what I could not forgive
“The reasons, the seasons
melding together, flashing lost images
Redeeming their promise
christening new moments forever endowed
“Yesterday and tomorrow
I am free of their deception
My last words to stay hidden
—in the laughter of a child”
(The New Room: June, 2022)
I understood perfectly what you meant about all the colors between black and gray and it is true that the hours have more minutes than they say so I will always be silent in the line of the discontented and condemned because this is a silent job to be averse to the course of the river.
when the world prepared all these traps it was clear that I would fall into each one of them and these painful wounds attest to much more than just ignorance or naivety because I believed in an absurd retribution of kindness and how fate would be grateful to my detachment from everything .
I have already prepared the final speech to be recorded in sepia on the board and I was not surprised to realize that only two words will suffice to summarize this path entirely traced in darkness, dizziness and tumbles:
well done.
My memory has been tainted
My mindset had been erased
My thoughts laced in worries
A lost expression painted my face
A place with no mirth
A place with a little injunction
A place brooded over past conversations
The sentences corrupted and caused dysfunction
The ghastly events raced through my head
The past plummeted through all my understanding
The idea of joy is mocked
I find life with constant reprimanding
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