The stale shed blocks my view
of why I take the long way home.
I swore that I would
never take the stars for granted.
But pushing in
my lungs are these coals.
Although I love my family,
I must want them to see me die.
Six months I'm given.
And I swore to my daughter
when she was eight
that I would be there when she's old.
I'm sucking inwards,
slightly faster.
Father, come quick,
I'd rather leave without knowing so.
Now, ironically,
I want to work up sweats;
build the muscles
so that Malibu girls smile.
Grinding the cuspids,
in bitter resents
is all the exertion
that I can strain to imitate.
Please hold my Mother
tell her the story
of when I fell into
a piling of ant houses.
And frantically danced
with water-hoses.
What a good laugh she'll have,
now that her son is gone.
A contest entry
- Poetry That Matters by Cupcrazy.
3500 points, ended February 6, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Your cheering section ...
has covered all the bases as far as I can see.
This is a very good poem, and very well written. Not much left for me to say but keep on keeping on.
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Such a sad write, but one that is filled with the truth of us humans. We so do not appreciate life or maybe it is that we can not imagine it ever ending, that we have such trouble with death. And it would be even harder to accept when you can see it coming. Then our own fear would barter and try to change the inevitable all the while knowing that we can not cheat death but feeling just maybe you could be the one, keeps us fighting it until the very end and of course with the image of death in our eyes, we stare to all those left behind and know the pain that our journey will cause them. Someone said that Death was not an ending but a beginning, but for us mere mortals that define life by the time and circle around us and what we see and can feel, it is the beginning of the end. Great write, loved it
Hugs, Bunny
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REally touching. Those first two lines really set up the rest of the entire piece. The long way home becomes metaphoric for this journey toward death, and the stars those significant people the speaker wishes not to neglect. And the irony of the desire to bulk up and impress was such an amazing bit of characterization... and reality. Even in the face of the most dire circumstance, we are all still human, both noble and foolish. I found the simplicity of this alluring and the reality of facing death, in this case, a bit haunting. REally well done.
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I'm glad to see you back in full force. I have missed your powerful and thought provoking writings.
This poem makes me feel the urge to breathe deeper, there is not enough air when you describe the last thoughts of things incomplete in life. I imagine if we were given a death sentence whether diseased or not, there would be this wistful inventory of lost hopes.
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