A poem/letter I wrote to put in my friend's casket. Best wishes on his soul soljourn.
I placed the flower on his chest; around his middle column.
I touched his face and his left cheek. I felt the emotions of everyone else.
A feeling of peace radiated throughout my body, spirit, and mind.
I was led to a seat. I listened, as the monks recited their prayers.
My hands joint together on my lap.
My head was fixed forward at the casket and everything else in my view.
I listened as his relatives spoke.
One more time, I went up to the casket where he lay. His eyes closed and body cold.
One more time, I touched his left cheek.
I wanted to hold his hand. Instead, I touched his right shoulder with my left hand.
I all ways knew his soul wouldn't take it the wrong way if my tears didn't flow.
I fell asleep that day. It felt like somebody was cradling me like a little baby.
I woke up that evening, and tears started streaming.
I still remember his answer to a silly question someone asked him. What if you lost an arm and a leg?
His reply was, "As long as I could still hustle."
He isn't one of my inspirations, but he is my friend's little brother.
If he was here right now, He's say to me, "That's what somebody gets for thinking he's three times your size."
For those who are symbolic and spiritual, the blue eyes of the white tiger are reflections of water and sky.
Water is the emotions of Man.
Both tigers showed up in my dreams.
His mom has promised everybody and me, she'd stop crying.
If anybody tries to tell her that her son is gone, she won't believe them, because he isn't.
If I were to make a promise, the only way it would break is if my time was calling.
Even if my time did call, it still wouldn't break.
I remember the first thing he said to me was, "Smokie, do you want to smoke some weed?"
Anybody who knows anything knows I'm doing what he would want everybody else and me to do.
I forgot what his little saying was, but your success is credited to your competence and skills as an individual. Not on how much you can or can't see.
I haven't seen his daughter yet, but she's still precious of course.
We will miss him with all our hearts. Just like I miss my friends who grew up with me with all my heart.
For those who really know anything, I'm on my own.
May his family put this in with his ashes.
May they spread them on top.
Regeneration is my gift.
Best wishes and take care.
We miss you.
Sincerely,
Vanna Song.
Poetry by Vanna "Smokie" Song
Read 650 times
Written on 2006-09-14 at 03:12
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I walked into the funeral home, with a white headed flower in my left hand. I was taken to where he laid.I placed the flower on his chest; around his middle column.
I touched his face and his left cheek. I felt the emotions of everyone else.
A feeling of peace radiated throughout my body, spirit, and mind.
I was led to a seat. I listened, as the monks recited their prayers.
My hands joint together on my lap.
My head was fixed forward at the casket and everything else in my view.
I listened as his relatives spoke.
One more time, I went up to the casket where he lay. His eyes closed and body cold.
One more time, I touched his left cheek.
I wanted to hold his hand. Instead, I touched his right shoulder with my left hand.
I all ways knew his soul wouldn't take it the wrong way if my tears didn't flow.
I fell asleep that day. It felt like somebody was cradling me like a little baby.
I woke up that evening, and tears started streaming.
I still remember his answer to a silly question someone asked him. What if you lost an arm and a leg?
His reply was, "As long as I could still hustle."
He isn't one of my inspirations, but he is my friend's little brother.
If he was here right now, He's say to me, "That's what somebody gets for thinking he's three times your size."
For those who are symbolic and spiritual, the blue eyes of the white tiger are reflections of water and sky.
Water is the emotions of Man.
Both tigers showed up in my dreams.
His mom has promised everybody and me, she'd stop crying.
If anybody tries to tell her that her son is gone, she won't believe them, because he isn't.
If I were to make a promise, the only way it would break is if my time was calling.
Even if my time did call, it still wouldn't break.
I remember the first thing he said to me was, "Smokie, do you want to smoke some weed?"
Anybody who knows anything knows I'm doing what he would want everybody else and me to do.
I forgot what his little saying was, but your success is credited to your competence and skills as an individual. Not on how much you can or can't see.
I haven't seen his daughter yet, but she's still precious of course.
We will miss him with all our hearts. Just like I miss my friends who grew up with me with all my heart.
For those who really know anything, I'm on my own.
May his family put this in with his ashes.
May they spread them on top.
Regeneration is my gift.
Best wishes and take care.
We miss you.
Sincerely,
Vanna Song.
Poetry by Vanna "Smokie" Song
Read 650 times
Written on 2006-09-14 at 03:12
Tags Vanna
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
Judy T Lloyd |
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by Vanna "Smokie"
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