I Died Today

I just wonder what happens when one dies.

I am Joyce.

I am eighteen.

I died today.

My life unfolds right before me,

scene after scene,

like a nonstop movie marathon.

From the very second I was conceived

til my raw death,

I see myself

and the people who'd been a part of my journey--

family...friends...strangers.

Everybody adored me

my family, neighborhood, town.

I was intelligent, sharp,

painfully honest,

and virtuous.

I graced the church with my presence

and impressed the heavens with my religiosity.

I was practically the kind of person

everyone dreamed to be,

a candidate for sainthood.

At a young age,

I had my own timeline of dreams:

finish college with honors,

marry a doctor,

raise five or seven kids,

be a philanthropist,

change the world.

My promising career was intricately laid out.

My monumental success

had been prophesied by everybody.

I knew death.

I knew everybody dies.

I knew it could happen to anyone

at any given time.

But I was young

and I was foolish.

I never considered it to happen to me.

Not this soon.

I can still remember that night

when death disguised itself as a beautiful dream.

I never woke up.

My parents found me lifeless that morning

--and man, did they weep.

I see them.

I see how they bleed tears.

I want to reach out to them

but that's not possible.

I am dead now...

The news of my death spreads like a wildfire

and everyone grieves for me

Some retreat in revered silence.

Some console themselves in each other's arms.

They revere my name like I'm a saint

equal to St. Therese of the Child Jesus.

And each person has a story to tell:

litany of the good acts I had done

and numerous virtues they swear I have.

I wonder if their praises

can give me access to heaven...

Now that my life has ended,

I see how each piece fit with another

like a perfect puzzle.

Seemingly insignificant things

serve their own purpose:

the delays, the unheard prayers,

the tears and the yawns.

Every flaw, every success

everything

makes up the blueprint

of who I was meant to be.

It all makes sense to me now.

I am Joyce

I am eighteen

I died today.

Author's Note

I know this is quite lengthy, so if you have finished reading this, well, CONGRATULATIONS! You have surpassed the trial! ;)

Anyway, this piece is very tricky for me. I honestly don't know what to think of this poem. And I'm not saying this to fish compliments, okay? I've been trying lots of things recently and I want honest opinions on the changes of my writing styles. (?)

Thank you very much! Your reviews never go unappreciated. :x

Reviews

[Frieda P]

Truthfully Blue, I'm not sure what I feel after reading this one, unless it's to say that we finally figure it all out in the end....which I've always wondered if there's truth in that notion, I might have to get back to you on this one....the concept is original and adept, I usually go by how poetry makes me 'feel' and I'm still discombobulated and perplexed, probably my own viewpoint on the subject matter....

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

I admire your honest opinion on this, Frieda. I think I'm as perplexed as you are. Although I penned this piece, I admit this is quite vague. Maybe I should have revised this more thoroughly, maybe I could have chosen the appropriate words... I think of this more of a draft than a product. Lots of people seem to like this poem, though, despite its vagueness. I think I'll leave it as it is... Thank you once again, Frieda. :)

[Frieda P]

Oh don't read me wrong Blue, I was moved by this, just wasn't sure how I felt, I guess that's a good thing in poetry, it should raise some questions to how and why we feel about a certain piece the way we do...I did think of it last night too, now that's poetry that has staying power, so whatever you're doing, just keep on doing it my friend! :-)

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

I understand. :) Thanks for your encouragement, Frieda. You always cheer me up with your kind words. :)

[Keith]

An interesting concept. Opening and closing with...

I am Joyce
I am eighteen
I died today

The middle discusses what it all means, Joyce apparently someone special. I admire those who explore different forms, but for me this less enjoyable than you other wonderful work. But I am old and my favourite poetry is pretty much old school, so keep them coming Blue.

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Three people including you have admitted this piece is not as good as my other poems. That made me think... You know, it's hard to top the latest writing. Haha. But I sure appreciate your reviews, Keith. You do not please. You are one honest man. ;) Thank you!!

[Keith]

As I work full time I don't really have much WC time. So before accepting new friends, I read a few piecesof their work, as i don' want to be reviewing stuff tht's not my thing. Once I started reading yours I couldn't stop, your work is excellent, a talented poet with a delightful way of looking at the world. Fresh and appealing. Looking forward to more of your work. Keith.

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Wow, that's SOMETHING, Keith!! Thank you!! I know I can always rely on your honest opinions. Best of luck! ;)

[Keith LaFountaine]

I love the bookending of your first and last stanza. It brings everything to a great conclusion. Nice work!

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Thanks, Keith! Ending a poem is always tricky. :x

[Heather]

this is great and i love the fact you have expressed what the inevitable is, death. Great job!! :D

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

This is my first time to write about death. Glad to know you liked this, Heather. :)

[Heather]

you are very welcome it seems like you are a natural, not in a weird morbid way or anything lol! :D

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Hahaha, thank goodness I still belong to the "natural" category. :)

[Heather]

yup sure do though i think you might be a tad borderline lol

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Lol, thanks for the laugh, Heather. :)

[Heather]

no problem :D!! glad to be of service lol

[Angel]

This is pure genius, Blue. We can all grasp that everyone must die. We all know that death can take anyone at any time.
But, for some reason, we can't seem to get it through our heads that we are included in "anyone"...and now is included in "any time"...

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Exactly, Angel... Thanks for your kind words! :)

[Sue]

Hard to write I would guess - it's the sort of news you see in the papers a lot - well done for penning it :)

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Thanks, Sue. I just imagined someone dead narrating her life to me. ;)

[SyberRose]

A very creative piece...Enjoyed reading Blue...thought provoking as well...I only have written one about death called Message in a Bottle...and it was a challenge poem...thats why I wrote it...
Nicely penned ...Rose

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Death is something hard to write about. That's what makes poems about death very fascinating. Glad you enjoyed, Rose! :)

[Dean]

I have written many poems about death and dying, and may have a clue or two (we learn from our own poems, do we not?) I liked this for the fact that it does not get syrupy, which is always a temptation.

Good thinking along with you, and pleased to make your acquaintance this morning. I'll be back.

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Thank you for dropping by, Dean! Nice to meet you, too. :)

[Annie]

I love the unfinished dreams of this girl that you are using as the narrator. I can relate so much to her that I feel as though I myself am narrating the poem!

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Thanks, Annie!! Glad you liked it..

[Dr. Wood ?]

I love the line that refers to death being disguised as a beautiful dream..That is masterful....Not an easy topic to tackle but you did ok thought....But being mainly a RHYMER I often find it hard to analyse free verse....

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

It's okay, Wood. Thank you for this. :)