I Dead people don’t say nothing This is a lie, they be talking all the time, Like the narrator of sad film Who be yapping when the characters be doing things II Dead people don’t just die They disappear into nothing From nothing to something To nothing again III But they be talking all the time, Reminding you of their softness And the stories only dem fit corroborate IV They be teaching you things, if you listen How to make hay And do a stitch before Sun sleeps And how not to run into swamp V They be reappearing And making you sad And happy And be teaching you things
Hey everyone, there you have it. The final bit of poetry on this website. It was partly inspired by Marlon James’ A Brief History of Seven Killings. The syntax of the poem is based on the cadence of one the book’s characters
I have to say the biggest thank you for sticking with me through the changes in name (poetryispeace, remember?) and appearance. For enduring the many cringeworthy poems and prose and for liking and commenting on the good ones too. This place has often been my catharsis and I have formed a few friendships and many acquaintances in the process. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
- The website will stay up (till I change my mind)
- When the time is right, I’ll provide the link(s) to my new abodes on these internet streets.
- I may or may not revamp or move this site, modifying it to include other bits of my life outside of writing. (This goodbye may prove to be short).
Again, thank you!