Untitled 2
This poem was written after some discussion on the suddeness of death. Would Joe have realised and understood that he had died, my theory and it is only a theory is perhaps not. It all happened so quickly, that his soul may have not comprehended that it had left his body...anyway as a result of these thoughts and discussions this came about.


Clink, bottle on glass
Splash of whiskey
a toast, but my hand falls limp
as fiery pain drives me to my knees
Fear, breathlessness, blackness

Emptiness, a sharp snap
spiralling upwards, floating, disconnected
Darkness, shadows, I am lost, bodiless
Searching, falling, light, memory
Desperately I seek to reunite soul with flesh

I cannot be dead, no, I am not ready
I hear gunshots, smell smoke, remember
Dan, Steve…God have mercy
But I have no eyes so how can I weep
this spark that is I searches for Ned

I plead but he cannot hear
In front of him I stand, powerless
my shade he is unable to see
Though I push at him, he will not leave
He feels only the wind tugging at his coat