when the stale winds of death finally call
beckoning you to the great beyond unknown
the esoteric things will all begin to rust
memories and flesh will fade, by generation
time eroding our legacies leaving a unseen chasm
like an air pocket in a breeze
a phantom in the shadows of a new family’s house

the pictures will remain, but not the flowers
tales of malice are hidden and die with their keepers
though heroism and philanthropy cascade in blood
the selfless are carried and mourned by villages
while the greedy end up paying six for show

monetary inheritance is squandered and unappreciated
given the wisdom of a lifetime, one can teach to fish
offering mastery and a chance to improve from trout to bear
or you can take your mistakes and triumphs into the hole
leaving future blood to start from scratch
with no recipe to follow, leaving life bland and homogenized

and so I write, so that my children will know me
surrounded by friends, camera always in hand
my words and the images of my existence will tell the tale

there is grandma and uncle George
uncles Billy and Brian, they are not related
that is how he got this scar and this is where he married
this is mommy when she was carrying you
Luxembourg and Lithuania are beyond the East River
towards the lands where Mociune and Nonna came from

there will come a time where I will be no more
a memory, if I’m lucky
let my words tell my life of my fortunes
and the pictures be the movie to my novel


4 Responses to “legacy”

  1. like the poem. death is our constant companion – it’s a pity, but it doesn’t need to be a burden.

  2. wally426 said

    There’s a tribe in Africa (the name escapes me) that believes there are two stages of death. The first is when the soul leaves the body. The second is when the soul perpetually wanders the Earth (purgatory). The actual death occurs when the last person alive with a living memory of the “dead” person passes away. So, as long as people who knew you are still alive, so is your soul. It’s an interesting concept.

    … and what scar are you talking about!?!?

    • Vic said

      I like that concept of “death”. What happens if your memory is revived, like if my great grand children should find my writing or your pictures long after we have passed? Do we come back to life?

      What tribe are you from again? I’ll show you a scar.

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