A series of 'instructions'
Deconstructing the Greats
:
And Then...
by Heather Knight
When I'm gone
remember just the happy me.
Don't be sad, don't waste your tears,
I've had a wondrous life...
despite being me.
Only one thing I'd have changed,
I'd have stopped the clock,
just for an hour or two,
and gone back
to see our wedding day,
and the days the kids were born,
I'd have hugged the trees in our garden
while marvelling at the blue skies.
I'm sure this time around
everything would look much brighter.
Go to our church
and don't forget
to sing Hallelujah and Amazing Grace.
And at least a song by him...
I know you'll do it for me.
Tell our friends not to bring
wasteful wreaths,
you know how they repel me.
Tell them to send the money down south,
to where it's needed,
for me.
I wouldn't mind a little sprig,
a single one, on top of my chest.
Something simple, white and sweet
to remember what you meant to me.
Don't wear dark clothes,
And please don't weep.
You know I wasn't made for this world,
I was too soft, no solidity in me,
and the winds shook me about.
When I'm gone,
be happy, but don't forget me.
Think about me once a week.
Know that I'll be up there
waiting with baited breath
'cause you're all a part of me.
Live long lives, live happy lives.
You can do it, you're strong,
you can't be knocked down by a floaty breeze.
And if you don't mind and you wish,
please take me to my earthly home
and disperse my ashes in an English field
so that I finally belong.
Author Notes
This poem was inspired by Javier Zamora's 'Instructions for My Funeral'.
Javier Zamora was born in El Salvador, but emigrated to the States when he was nine (his parents left before him and he was brought up by his grandparents till he left).
If you want to know more about him, you can read his book 'Solito' which is the next in my reading list. He has also published a poetry collection called 'Unaccompanied' (that's where I found the poem below).
Don't burn me in no steel furnace, burn me
in Abuelita's garden. Wrap me in blue-
white-and-blue
Douse me in the cheapest gin. Whatever you do,
don't judge my home. Cut my bones
with a machete till I'm finest dust
Please, no priests, no crosses, no flowers.
Steal a flask and stash me inside. Blast music,
dress to impress. Please be drunk.
Bust out the drums the army strums.
Bust out the guitars guerrilleros strummed
and listen to the war inside
Carouse the procession
dancing to the pier. Moor me
in a motorboat
driven by a nine-year-old
son of a fisherman. Scud to the center
of the Estero de Jaltepec. Read
"Como tu," and toss pieces of bread.
As the motorboat circles,
open the flask, so I'm breathed like a jacaranda,
like a flor de mayo
like an alcatraz--then, forget me
and let me drift.
The El Salvador flag is white and blue.
Abuelita means grandma
I'd never heard the word estero before. I found the translation stream, although it looks more like an estuary on Google pictures. In Spain we call it estuario.
'Como tu' is a poem by Richard Blanco who was the inaugural poet for Obama's second inauguration. He was the first immigrant, the first Latino and the first openly gay person to receive that honour.
A flor the mayo is a Christmas orchid.
I'm sure Helen will understand, but when I wrote 'and at least a song by him', I meant Dan Vasc. :)
