i remember the paper-hands of a man
how they trembled and arched when he spoke
and how, in a final show of life
he slow-walked across carpet
then opened his own pants
to piss
m
Author notes
ray. 11-4-08 rip
A contest entry
- anything by Virgoan.
500 points, ended November 18, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
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Comments
1 - 39 of 39
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A fresh and vibrant poem. This is really a strong contender in this contest since everything about this is perfect. The initial two lines gave that revealing introduction and the second stanza carries that picture perfect imagery, a memoir or probably a stage in one person's latter life - a normal act.
In addition, I really like the title.
Excellent work here poet.
Thanks and best regards,
Hensley
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wow
divergent though s trying to mean in the wilderness of meanings that elude..as lice of life cross sectional and so incisive.Did ya do that on intent or just matter of fact -
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i am not sure what you are asking.
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This is a very poignant write. I think there's a figurative death through the loss of independence and a swallowing of pride when we realize we can no longer do the very basic things for ourselves we learned around age two.
You created an image I suspect will stay in my thoughts long after reading. Good luck in the contest.
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i hope he pissed on the carpet
or to rephrase
after a life spent on buying carpets
the territorial instinct won
theres nothing more trivial than the end
of dreams or dreams about flying magic carpets
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jesus, you're a weird guy.
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well, as you can see my avatar is some sort of pseudo margaret thatcher...
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more like the eagle from muppets..
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nah if you remove the wig it looks like scientist's buttler
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"the paper-hands of a man" - I absolutely love that phrase. It clicks and sets the mood for this poem. I respect what you have writ here.
The Rivaling Mimic
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like it
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You nailed it.
I can't imagine how this could have been done better.
Tom
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you do death march poetry so well mary, with sublte choice of words and placement..
don't know how you get it so bang on all the time girl, i am in awe.. for sure
love your words
G.x
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I once described my mother's skin as being parchment-like, so I can easily envision this scenario, as well. Such a tragic end to a proud and boisterous life once known. Good luck in Hensley's contest, Sweetie. 
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sand paper hands and flies wide open for all the world to see. should have seen the shag on the carpet coming, but I was looking at the stars on the ceiling..
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I watch the once
the tower of a man
he taught me to drive
and to throw a mean curve
Asking in the teenage voice
why he doesnt speak anymore
he smokes one to my glove
and mutters, "beyond all that, son"...
we both smile
in silent knowing
I didnt drop that one
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The poem made me think of Mitch Albom's book, "Tuesdays With Morrie" where at first Morrie (who has ALS) is upset that someday soon someone else will have to wipe his behind. Once he gets to that point though, he learns to enjoy having others care and take care of him.
Nice write.
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don't really know how to take this poem but i do know that it is a thought provoker, esp that last part, what could that mean, keep it flowing
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A sad write a bit. Great title....wonderful assonance-rhyme thoughout your poem, gives it a very solid body. "in a final show of life" .....yeah...lots to ponder in this little gem
(a hypen in L1? paper-thin?)
Erwin
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I think that opening line tells us so much. I always think about my uncle who's skin was so thin, he'd bump int a wall and bleed. We used to say his skin was thinner than paper. You give us an austere portrait of the frailty that comes with age. Well done.
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excellent Mary. this doesn't happen very often where i work because people are already in wheelchairs. he was very fortunate to die at home. wonderful imagery and angle of thought...i love reading you..
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This is wonderful and reminds me of a poem from David Ignatow's "Shadowing the Ground", a book he wrote when he was dying. In the poem he contemplates life as he looks out the bathroom window while pissing...
This of course has your magnificent touch, a very moving tribute....
i love this one
al
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I think poems immortalize people and i'm sure this did for him, even if it's just a small idea. wonderful
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There is an indignity in growing old. The fragileness of this is caught in the opening lines. I remember to well when my grandparents went from human to vellum to porcelain. My parents were quickly burnt on the pyres of cancer to count. But now I am on the edge looking on the valley and being able to pee comfortably and not to often is the first infirmity to strike. It is no longer about improving physically, but not about sliding down hill to fast and without losing a sense of dignity. I guess if anything what disturbs me is it could be read as pissing on the carpet. God may I never get there. The accidents are thieves enough.
Peace,
Tom B.
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I'm with Allyce, I had to come back to this one and figure out why it didn't sit right with me the first time. Could be that I have the flu, and felt pissy last night, because today it actually reads better. lol.
You do have brevity down pat, that's for certain. Good one m.
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I actually slept on this. The ending hits me hard - I love it. Not convinced re: paper thin skin. Feels done already.
Fantastic content and execution as always
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thanks.. i dropped thin.. i like it better.. i'm glad you noticed ..
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title is perfect...love the truth here.
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*cheers*
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no, it doesn't suck.
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I read this when you first posted it and intended to come back now to comment....and I am happy to see you changed "pee" to "piss" as I was going to suggest that...the poem seems sort of 'delicate' and that ending gives it the perfect edge. this part of life is sad to witness. very well written.
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i am considering switching back.. because in his final days.. i am not sure he had enough strength or energy to piss... you know?
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this is beautiful..... a tale of life's frailties.....
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I've just come home from visiting my mom - a woman who hasn't spoken in two years talked to me today - your poem almost made me cry.
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what a heart breaking story .. i hope you are ok..
m -
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yep, OK
wonder what my final show of life will be though
*dribbles anyway*
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A slap of reality with illness and the ability to do something...I guess that's why I wish age wasn't an issue between life and death, but it always seems to come down to what we can do in between C
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This is divine I adore the contradiction of language and beauty of life lived through here.
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