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Requiem to my head, as hand slips blade to whit
by Kristina Woodhillthis head business
well,
be-
heading
business
sends a chill
and a thrill
down said spineÂ’s
bloodied hill
business
I mean
what would
my stream
of consciousness be
as my severed self
realized
itÂ’s
two for
one
demise
would
those last
seconds
soon to be
my past
call
forth
loving
goodbyes
or would
my eyes
search yet
near
for that
final mirror
to see if
my lipÂ’s hue
matched
my final
adieu
12/01/2006
Author's Note: Response to reading Severance by Robert Olen Butler, a fascinating collection of short works about people from history and fiction who were beheaded and their possible thoughts in the supposed last minute and a half of their consciousness. Also a tip of the hat :) to Rusty Arquette and his poem Head Games, which I read the same night I began reading Severance.
Posted on 12/01/2006
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/01/06 at 08:31 PM "if my lip’s hue matched my final adieu" I find that delightfully sarcastic! Well done. Thanks.
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| Posted by Katerina T Nix on 12/06/06 at 05:09 AM Wow! What a great read, Kristina. I really enjoyed reading this piece. Well done and thank you for sharing it. -Kat :)
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