Another poem from the “Nothing Book”. This was a journal I kept from age 18-22 all the way back in 1979. I remember there was a couple of years in my teens, where creative surges pushed me to write down my thoughts. While my adult self is less impressed with the results, reading them again brings me back to the headspace of that angsty youth. Enjoy or cringe… it is up to you.
My birth came before his.
I lived many lifetimes just waiting,
And Maturing, to accept his birth.
He came before I reached my prime.
At birth, he was weak and unorganized,
But, I furnished the milk,
Which strengthened and matured him
To a point where I became proud.
Everything I offered, He accepted.
What he took, He expanded.
What I refused, he fought for.
Satisfaction was unknown to him.
His greed pushed him on,
To reap me of everything dear.
My controls over him weakened,
As I became old too quickly.
On the day of my death,
He thought himself prosperous.
But, I felt great sorrow because…
My death also meant his!
Grant Spiller – June 1980
As a side note, this poem was to be part of a larger fictional story that is still stuck in my head all these years later. The story has evolved as I matured and gained life experiences. I have tried several times to get it down on paper, but something has been holding me back.