Counting Lives
How many lives have I lived to this day?
I once was a Gypsy, that I can say.
I remember my flowered dresses and my golden rings,
Singing and dancing by the fire -
That always gave me wings.
An Egyptian princess wandering the streets
Planning to send the pharaoh into his sleep.
I had an accomplice, a lover of mine.
The king’s death was peaceful as he joined the divine.
Then I was a bear to pay for being a fool,
Roaming the mountains and searching for food.
Hike, sleep, eat, then hibernate.
My life came to an end as a hunter crossed my fate.
I feel safe with a broom so maybe a witch.
I was burned at the stake for some kind of magic.
That one was short, I don’t remember much
But I still carry the flame surrounding my touch.
A Nordic Viking lifting sails up high
Searching for fortunes through day and through night
Riding the ocean and its wavy flow - no compass in hand,
Following a vision of where I have to go.
My crew was small but definitely stood apart
I might have been a man, a warrior at heart
I discovered lands and claimed them as mine
Conquering everything through love, war, or plight.
A lady of the night on the Belgian streets
Selling refuge and comfort to whomever I’d meet
A passionate lover and a mother of two,
A gift from the heavens to help me make it through
I once met a man from Paris, he said.
He told me about Montmartre and the sculptures he made,
He promised he’d save me before he was dead.
He gave me my second child instead.
I got my humor and wanderlust from traveling with the tent
Selling oddities as entertainment, perceptions were bent.
Fortune tellers, magicians, lion tamers, all in one place
A desperate spectacle for emotion on the human face.
“Welcome to the Circus”, we’d say with a grin
As I welcomed guests with my Siamese twin.
Attached to the chest, we shared body and mind,
But our souls were separate while intertwined
We happily died young at age thirty-two
The love for each other was the only one we knew.
I met the guillotine at nineteen and lost my head
I got mixed up at rebirth and picked this one instead,
It actually belongs to someone else.
My body is a woman’s, that’s easy to see
The soft curves and valleys of splendid femininity.
But not the head,
No matter how much I pull to mimic its perfect beauty.
Why was I in such a hurry?
All kept together with a thin red thread,
A sown Frankenstein among the walking dead.
A Japanese samurai who blessed hundreds
With the freedom of his sword,
Swiftly sending enemies to the other world.
An orphan soul, unafraid of death,
Counting the moments till I find a worthy match
To deliver me from Fate and
Hand me over into Destiny’s final embrace.
​
Unattached, I left no trace of my existence,
Besides the memories that drenched
The jewel steal of my weapon that moved like a wand,
With an intelligence of its own,
That I was merely there to hold.
I have my way with words now,
I wonder what this one will be like.
Will I be a poet, a singer, a messenger of light?
A tent, pyramid, mountain, and fire
Tattooed on my arm
A daily reminder to do no harm.