Grief Graffiti

I came across Harry Baker on Instagram & his poetry really resonated with me. In particular his poem titled “A Poem for When I Die” that he performed live & with such emotion. While it’s basically a list of how & what he wants his funeral to be like, it weaves in the waves of emotions that accompany grief & loss, and ends with a reminder of the beauty of life & making the best of it. I loved it so much I purchased his book of poetry, “Wonderful”, & devoured each stanza. So for my fellow logophiles (lovers of words) here is his wonderful poem:

Ideally I would like

a hundred benches.

Every single one of them

facing the sea.

If that’s too much faff,

I’d settle for the one somewhere in Margate.

Somewhere you can come,

and sit, and think, and be.

I don’t need a fancy pot

to keep my ashes.

Just find a decent spot

where there’s a breeze.

So the next time someone gasps

at all the wonder in the world,

a part of them is breathing in

a part of me.

At my funeral

I’d like there to be sunflowers.

A truly inconvenient amount.

For I too will have spent a lifetime

searching for the light,

and I don’t see a reason why

that should stop now.

Wear what you want.

If it were me l’d go for trainers,

or wellies.

Something comfortable

and colourful to match.

For, as it was foretold

by the prophet Jamie Tartt,

dress shoes are for muggles

and for twats.

For the reading,

I’d like Erin’s poem

about final moments.

Maybe this poem

should be read for context too.

For the music,

nothing short of

a full-throated singalong

of my favourite song:

‘Dynamite, by Taio Cruz.

For the food,

just keep it veggie.

For the drinks,

serve up negronis.

If I pretend to like them,

you can do the same.

For the wake,

if people wanna chat

then I am all for that,

but, just in case,

make sure a corner’s

stacked with games.

Don’t let anyone apologise for crying.

It is honestly my favourite thing to do.

Just make sure everybody knows

how much I loved being alive.

The only thing that I loved more

was loving you.

Speaking of which:

if you are free,

then I would love

for you to be there.

But if you can’t,

because you’re dead,

that’s not your fault.

To be honest,

neither of us

quite makes sense without the other.

I still think we’ll die together,

like a cult.

And if anybody says

I have gone to a better place,

that is a kind

and very well-intentioned lie.

For there can be no better place

than in a room with all my friends.

Just promise we’ll do this again

the other side.

Side note: let’s also do this

loads before we die.

And by the time

it comes around

maybe l’d hate it.

I’ll live for ages

and my tastes

will change with time.

But one thing that I know

I will always find amazing

is what a thing it is to live a life.

P.S. Let’s also do this loads before we die.

Then he sums the whole book up with these beautiful thoughts:

“While I used to believe that the difficult parts of life could be overcome with hope and optimism, or at least that if we gave enough oxygen to the good things they could outgrow the rest, I have learnt that the painful bits don’t just disappear if we ignore them or wish them away, but have to be accepted and acknowledged as part of the whole spectrum of what it means to exist in this wonderful world. 

“Rather than the darkness undermining that search for light and wonder, it is what makes it more vital than ever. It has been the presence of death that has caused me to double down on my love of life. It is the being away that has given me a renewed appreciation of what home is. It is the puddles that necessitate the wellies.

“These hardships do not just serve as a contrast for when joy does break through (and it always finds a way). Rather, it is the courage to be open and vulnerable in these lowest moments that enables us to connect with others on a fundamentally deeper level, and it is the richness of that human connection that makes me more grateful than ever to be alive and here to experience all of it.“

~ Harry Baker, Wonderful