Suddenly alone
An empty bed
Suddenly a home
Is a prison instead
A shift in perspective
A flash in your head
It was nothing I did
It was nothing I said
Suddenly adrift
On a rolling sea
Suddenly you have
Forgotten me
Clipped my wings
Then set me free
Is this how things
Would always be?
For Linda’s #SoCS
So far we have invented fire and the wheel.
OK, so we didn’t actually invent fire. It was here already and we happened to notice it and figure out that it was useful in the preparation of hamburgers. And really, when you think about it, we didn’t invent the wheel either because, in a way, it was already here as well. We just noticed how round rocks roll down hills and took the idea from there. The rest (dare I say it?) is history.
The real talent we have, then, is noticing things.
I noticed a lump on my left arm yesterday. It’s not very big. You have to get up really close to it to notice it at all. So I did. I think the little ones might be more deadly than the big ones, for some reason. I spent the rest of the day wondering if I should see the doctor. I decided not to because either she will tell me it’s nothing and I will feel like an idiot or she’ll tell me that it’s terminal cancer. I don’t want her to tell me either of these things. This is an example of male cowardice and stupidity.
Assuming then, that I have six months to live, it’s difficult not to be a little underwhelmed with what we’ve achieved, so far. Fire and the wheel are all that I have come up with and, on a personal level, I can’t really claim to have had much to do with either of them. Though I might have noticed them first if I had gotten here early enough.
We abolished slavery too. Sort of. It’s astonishing how long we took to notice that.
But I had nothing to do with abolishing slavery, either. I’ve never even seen a slave. Although sometimes I wonder what the arrangements were with my mother.
So now, with the number of heartbeats left to me severely curtailed by the lump on my left arm I can’t help thinking that my contribution down here on the planet, so far, has been a bit of a disappointment. I didn’t invent fire or the wheel or abolish slavery. It’s as though I haven’t really noticed anything at all.
Oh well.
OK. This might seem like randomly leaping into the deep end. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I was inspired by a little drawing I came across earlier and attached to a sample of my dreadful poetry.
So. Not completely random.
The original idea, by the way, can be found Here
Upon being asked to Euthanise Another
People live far too long. Some of them, anyway. So it is inevitable that this request will be put to you at some time or another and it is best to be prepared.
Believe it or not, the first expectation others have when putting the idea into your head is that you will attempt to talk them out of it. So, in the short term at least, try to keep your enthusiasm in check.
Likewise, with laws in most states still marooned in a superstitious and religious quagmire it is best not to openly advertise your services in this regard. Suggesting it to a loved one before they ask is also considered not de rigueur. It is always best to ensure that the other party really does want to give it a try before going ahead with the job. This can be achieved with a few probing questions.
“So, let me get this straight. You want me to kill you, right?”
“Yes please.”
“Righto, then.”
Time is of the essence. The safest option is to do it there and then. With any delay you can be assured that word will get around to other friends and relatives. And the last thing you want on the big day is a crowd. Because somewhere amongst the spectators might be someone not entirely in agreement with the plan. And that could spoil everything.
There are a million different methods by which you might usher a loved one into the hereafter. A quick internet search will reveal a surprising array of simple and inexpensive recipes to humanely bring things to a close. My only advice on the matter is not to be overly theatrical about the whole thing. If the coroner stumbles across a scene reminiscent of a medieval torture chamber there are bound to be questions. The sort of questions that might render your outpouring of grief at the subsequent funeral a trifle unconvincing.
Euthanasia is an act of love. You should always ensure that your selfless gesture is to be reciprocated. Insist on proof. Once you and Aunt Betty have settled on a date and an agreed termination technique it is time to ensure that all the required paperwork is up to date.
“You have a final will and testiment typed up, I assume, dearest relative?”
“Yes.”
“May I see it?”
Upon asking another to Euthanise you.
It is not the done thing to change your mind at the last minute. Screaming out to hospital staff as another is nervously poised over your bed with pillow in hand might be tremendously funny at the time but may not seem so to the one who has taken on this solemn task with the very best of intentions.
And, regardless of your sudden apparent change of circumstances and renewed lust for life, they are bound to go ahead with it anyway. At the first possible opportunity.
I wrote this for my pal Cyranny. I bother her a bit with silly rhymes inspired by her own ACTUAL POETRY, which can be found Here. I thought that I might post it just as a means of keeping record of it because it represents a change in style that I might pursue at some time in the future. It is not quite as silly as most of my work, I think.
Or maybe it is.
****************
In a grey world
The colour
Fading with every day
Of her absence
And wondering
In every way
How I might love her
And beg her
To stay
In this vacuum
With our breath
Taken away
By beauty
And the things
We can’t say
It may make more sense with reference to the inspiration
