Poets Glory

The poets glory

Before that noble death unmistakably announces my departure
Uncloaked and rigid to the bones
Flipping the bird at this mundane world
I prepare for my journey,  misty lips reciting prayers

Before the lamp burns out its frozen oil
Before rigor mortis sets in, braiding my eye brows
I want to say a few parting words
I don't know what words  should I use
What tongue, what native dance should I design

Before the funeral pyre is lit
I wait on the side lines, shrouded, and silent
I can still hear the lapping Ganges
To what use is my hearing aid

Oh what a joy it is to loose this world, that never was mine
In  the first place
And I leave behind a few dark poems  that you can remember me by
This was all a poet could ask
To have laughed a few moments, and died the next
Before spring comes, sunshine reveals the world, lifting
Darkness
While you sleep, I travel to the other world
Just  to be a whole basket full of ashes
Just like my grand mother
Carrying bananas  to sell at the local market
Fill your baskets with my ashes
And do whatever you can.