NFR Upon my death

Discussion in 'Fly Fishing Forum' started by Chris Johnson, Jun 26, 2014.

  1. This was written by a friend who I've known since we were 11. He was a big man with a big voice and a heart and mind to match. This poem is made more poignant by the fact that it was written little more than a year before his sudden death from a heart attack. The world is the less for his passing. Please take this as a reminder, if you are not feeling well go to the doctor.

    Upon my death

    Take my eyes and pickle them, put the clear mason jar on a shelf by the window so I can look into the world past my time.

    Put my arms in a cardboard box and bury them at the base of a willow tree

    Take my skull and clean it with beetles so that you can put a candle on my crown and call it a good idea

    The rest, you can feed to the fishes...
    Upon my death
    There must be midget!
    Small people laughing in roisterous boisterous magnificence tumbling upon a stage, hire them, because they need the money...
    And puppets
    Long sock puppets and cunningly strong marionettes with the sharply bearded grin of the puppet master guiding his flock

    And long sonorous poetry putting people to sleep as they wait for the exciting moments

    Upon my death
    There should be a giraffe, or perhaps three giraffes
    Walking about the grounds, eating pennants from the tops of tents

    Did I mention jugglers? And fire eaters?
    And campfires? and the jiggling clitter of bangled belly dancers?

    Sooth sayers, palm readers magic shows with disappearing cats, a forum for the discussion of physics and the impact of the observer to the interaction of particles and waves, glass prisms refracting rainbows hanging from every corner,

    Accordions, horns, minstrels roaming about offering tidbits of fruit and meat and stuffed little pastries

    Hot coffee, there must be hot, strong coffee,
    And beer! Great vats available for disposal, swallow by swallow

    Washed clean by whiskey, good scotch with tumblers and ice, not crushed mind you, but the small square cubes of ice, yes...

    Upon my death, let the sun be shining, and if not, everyone can go inside.

    Upon my death let us celebrate the day and the night and your lovers and hug your family and your friends and do what you WILL do, not what is expected of you, as you never know when you will be joining me.

    Layne Arthur Southcott

    Miss you brother, Chris
    Codioos and Freestone like this.
  2. Sweet. I liked it.

    I still do.
  3. Outstanding. Thank you for sharing.

  4. As I get older, my companions get fewer, and some day it will be my turn to leave you all. But as John Doone said in NO MAN IS AN ISLAND, each passing deminishes those of us that are left behind.
    Chris Johnson and Kent Lufkin like this.
  5. Very enjoyable.
    At 65, I've come to the conclusion growing old ain't for "sissies". If there is something you want to do, do it now.
    Old Man likes this.
  6. Thank you, Chris.

    Salmon season in the islands starts July 1. Interested?

    Chris Johnson likes this.
  7. Thank you for sharing.
    I'd bet your friend would thank you as well.
    Kent Lufkin and Chris Johnson like this.
  8. This would be the best party on earth.
    Chris Johnson likes this.
  9. Hey Olive bugger, that John Donne prose is one of my favorites, " send never then to find for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee" Also my favorite Hemingway novel.
    Kent Lufkin likes this.

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