A Death Will Come

every single time you

can see the struggles

and how she can barely

get from there to here

walking hunched over

slowly making her way

her health obviously

now in full decline

as she keeps her lungs

in a can on wheels

rolling along behind her

.

and a death will come

to her just as it will for

all of us

.

after her many years of

wrongs and debts owed

she’s nearly become my

friend for the first time

as I can finally see in

her some redeeming

quality or someone

worth spending time with

.

though that death will come

and I wonder when it does

who will be there to mourn

will I be there among

many or among only a few

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Gardeners

they come into the old hardware store

aged backs bent forward at the shoulders

tottering feet shuffling on the cement floor

“hello there!! how are you today?”

they say far too loudly

they’ve already explained that today

they’ll need 5 tomato, 2 squash, and

2 watermelon plants before anybody

can tell them how they are today

.

they gather up their adolescent plants

and head back to their homes

probably a small, brick, ranch house

somewhere way out in the sticks

no air conditioning turned on yet

because they get so cold so easily

.

they may let the plants sit until tomorrow

soaking them or just letting them rest

inside to avoid the heavy winds that set in

a few days ago and won’t seem to move on

not long after sunrise, they’ll be out there

in their small tilled-up garden spot

carefully preparing the holes for the plants

covering, watering, fertilizing

.

the weeks of tending, weeding, nurturing

is it about the vegetables or fruit

or is it one last chance to raise something

to care for it, to give it life, to see it mature

when the season ends for these plants the old men

vow “if I’m living next year I probably

won’t plant so many tomatoes.”

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This Love – A Collaboration with Kricket’s Ramblings

I teamed up recently with Kricket’s Ramblings on a collaboration. The result is a poem called “This Love.”

When we began, we decided on turning this collaboration into a debate on whether love itself is a real “thing” or simply some chemical reaction. It turned into a poetic conversation/debate that could have carried on even longer than it did. In the end, I’m very happy with how Kricket and I were able to create not only a disagreement but a conversation within our (as we referred to it) concocted-collab. Sure, we may have gotten a bit long-winded but the debate required that we do enough back and forth that we could thoroughly debate the topic. Hope you enjoy!

Click here to read “This Love.”

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Poememes

I wanted to try something new.

I’ve added a new page of visuals of short poems I’ve written. They are poem memes (or Poememes as I call them © doubleupoet 😉 ).

You can visit the new page here or click on the page in the menu at the top of the page.

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Progress

oh, but progress is fleeting

and stands poorly against time

to what means do we progress

to cut out the tongue

to paint over the skin

to punish the right

to reward the wrong

today’s progress

is tomorrow’s regress

hold your mind in place

keep the feet planted

hands down at your sides

mouth closed and silent

make no sudden movement

time will march

and only forward

in this regard

progress will come

and we, carried with it

but to progress as you see it

will only take us

on a fight back

against the streams of time

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Dear Youth

dear youth,

your life lies out there

somewhere in front of you

it has hardly begun

there is possibility,

much to accomplish,

high ideals,

a determination to do it

better than mom and dad,

to show everyone what you can do,

to prove you’re worth it

.

accept or reject this advice

but to turn a deaf ear

is to fail to heed the words

of someone who was

there far ahead of you

.

along the way toward your own glory

much failure will beset you

life will kick your ass

and there’s a chance you won’t

get to where you’re going

you may need to reset your compass

the best that this old man can offer is this:

.

never stop living

when life fights you

strap on the gloves and fight back

most of all, live

just live

live every single moment you have

dine at the table of excess

accept no second bests

set about to see the wonder

to feel every emotion

laugh insanely

cry every tear completely

commit to love only with one who will commit

the world is a big place that can swallow you whole

but you belong in it

go and make your mark

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Life Song

life is but

a fragile song

meant to be sung

verse by verse

chorus by chorus

.

sing it wholly

and note for note

for when the

song is through

there will be

no reprise

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A Mind Wandering in the Rain

It dawned like many other late-autumn days,

the world all about lay damp

the ground seeped water like a sponge

with every step taken upon it

.

Nature lay completely silent, asleep

leaving the constant pelting of rain

as the only thing that would

pierce the moist silence

.

There, on a wet field stands I

the only life form visible

hood covering my head but

being drenched by Autumn’s barrage

.

The day, the seasonal conditions

though liveable, are most conducive

to a mind wandering its past

especially moments of loss and tragedy

.

Having endured the pelting for

long enough that the hood lay on my head

and having rambled the dark past sufficiently

it was time for shelter and warmer thoughts

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I’ll Do My Best

I was only ten when you were taken

ripped away with no warning

there was no chance, no time

to get to know who you were

or to emulate your ways

.

you were my idol, my hero

everything I thought

I wanted to be was

wrapped up in you

.

without you, I’ve had to make do

and grow however I could

I had lost my pattern

so I did the best I could

.

well…here I am all grown up

often I wonder if I’m anything like you

either way, I hope I did you proud

and I hope I turned into someone

that you would like to know

I miss you, Big Brother

I’ll do my best for you

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In the Unfortunate Event

in the event that I ever hit it

big

and I’m talking big enough

that people know my name

that they remember my poesy

.

anyone claiming to have

ever carried on either

meaningful relationship

or on-and-off relations

with this broken human

.

well, if this ever happens

tell them “a good day to you”

and send them packing

my final liaison(s) are

included within my pages

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