When I was six, my grandmother tells me

she will be an old stone.

In all of my endless, six year old wisdom

I tell her that a stone is a very boring thing to be.

She laughs,

swings me around,

and tells me I will understand,

someday.

When I am sixteen, my niece wears

an old topaz bit, set in silver on a rusting chain.

It was my grandmother's,

maybe, probably.

I'd never seen it til the day after she died, hanging on her mirror.

My grandfather tells me

she wore it every day

tucked under her collar.

And so,

I have a piece of uncut garnet,

set on a silver back,

tucked under my collar.

I think, one day,

I'll be an old, old stone.

In a future life I will be

a tech wizard of dubious morals, and

I will focus my industry to

create an eastern European

botnet,

for the sole purpose of launching

denial-of-service attacks against

home sites of spammers behind this

infestation,

not so much because I must scroll

so far to find the real writes

(which I do anyway,

cuz yinz are worth it)

but because they try to tempt me

to their illicit streaming with

Cats,

and I know goddamn well

when I've been insulted.

I like to burn trash

All that garbage deep inside of me

To be swallowed by the flames

I would burn all the time

Firefighters would try to quench my fire

But my anger and stench would be smelled for miles

So when I finally get stabbed in the back or run over by a truck

I will just make life miserable for the rest of the world.

I will be reincarnated as a muffin,

Because,

As a dear friend once said,

"You are the tastiest muffin, in my book. Well, pantry I guess."

I also changed my name on Google to Tasty for about a month.

That is all.

I am a muffin.

when i die

i will be a tree

standing tall

passive

peacefully slumbering

until the machines come

with their whirring blades

and the smell of death

and tear me

limb by limb

a p a r t

the humans can’t leave me be

in their minds

i’m a waste of space

the oxygen i provide

the shelter

the beauty

it is nothing compared

to the dreadful monotony

the horrible expanse

the empty void

of a brand new

parking lot

In the next life,

And the next,

A chain of lifetimes unbroken,

Until the universe shivers it's dying gasp,

I will be who I always have been:

I will be my beloved's,

And he will be mine.

He has been the womb-like Night,

Containing all of me,

And I danced in his darkness,

As the Light of Day.

In eons following,

He was the ocean,

And I was the earth he rushed up to kiss,

Each day.

In today's passing life,

The remnants of cosmic lifetimes

Are captured in our indigo and forest depths.

Our union glows

In the beauty of our posterity.

And with gnarled hands clasped,

And wedding bands gleaming,

We'll seek our next life together.

Whether we are

The dust of the universe,

Or one galaxy breathing into another,

Or the flecks of light

That flash in a curious child's eyes,

In the next life,

And the next,

I will be my beloved's

And he will be mine.

If I was reincarnated,

I would be a sunflower.

And have all of my seeds eaten,

as I often eat them in this life.

#loganspoetry

#WhiteWolfe32

#shortandfunnypoem

I've been told you only marry your soul mate once in the chain of lives your soul will live

What a sad life for a fool

Because in my next life I will be born deep into the Earth

Surrounded by darkness and heat and coolness and forces unseen

Then when you are born again I will be dug up and endure the worst of torture

Hellfire and light

Scrubbed and shaved for you only

I'll be born tough and indestructible

That way when you hold me, against the odds, for the second time it will be forever

A ring on your left hand finger

A diamond just for you

I will shine the brightest marrying you

When I am reincarnated, I hope I will be a bear. One who is fierce, powerful, sure. Or perhaps an owl. One who is intelligent, mysterious, patient. Or maybe even a gorilla. One who is compassionate, proud, strong. I hope to be reincarnated as something free from the cruelty of the world but not disconnected from its beauty. In truth, when I am reincarnated, I hope to be all of the things I am not, while still being everything that I am. I want to live this life with good intentions that I may someday come across in my next life. A life that leaves something behind of who I was that can inspire who I become, even if I never realize it was me. In my next life, I hope to learn of the things I have done in this life in the hope that the cycle of the wrong I have done is discontinued and the good is built upon. I will learn more, see more, never repeat my mistakes, be jovial, build by mental and physical strength, and live my life as quietly as I do in this life. But that doesn't answer the question of what I will be reincarnated as, does it? Those are just my hopes. Being reincarnated as an animal is a perk of existence, but lacks the challenge that my soul craves. It is a primal existance rather than one of conscious direction. Although I may eat my own words and actually be reincarnated as an animal, I know more than anything that if I have a legacy to continue, if my soul knows it can do more and will thrive, I will be reincarnated as the one thing no one hopes for: A person.

I will die. I will die.

We will all die.

But I think some of us will be lucky -

or unlucky - enough to have another life.

As another thing.

As for me, I will be a sewer rat.

Forever scavenging for other people's trash

and using it to create sustenance.

And I will never be able to

get my mind out of the gutter.