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BlackBowfin — Look a Second Time
#addiction #death #depression #grandparents #jaded #life #love #aging
Published: 2019-06-08 02:33:19 +0000 UTC; Views: 8361; Favourites: 34; Downloads: 0
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Description
the last remaining nailholding our hot-orange
saucer full of sun
above us
is about to let go
and, as the drywall cracks,
i’m back to boyhood
and my grandfather
sits across the breakfast table,
train noises trailing
from the corner of his mouth;
he looks past me
tracking something, left to right
in the window behind me
what?
oh, it's the little train, runs 'long the sill'
i turn around and i’ve missed it
and soon as i return to my plate
wait.. (a distant) woowoo fades right
missed again;
how i wish i still wanted
to turn around
and look a second time
that table’s now likely lonely
in landfill quiet,
the window sold
houses ago;
so, i keep that little old man
in a comfortable shirt pocket
it’s where that train took him
when his heart decided that
returning home from his checkup
only to watch his dying wife
finish dying, wasn’t worth it;
that’s when
he ventured ahead, cleared a spot
and saved her a seat
that didn’t remain empty long
so, the last remaining nail
holding up our sun
can let go whenever it wants, because
i think i can
i think i can
(catch it and)
hold it up
long enough to remember
we're all buckling beneath it;
long enough to forget
how to want to let go
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Comments: 37
Hey there and thank you much.
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Some rich imagery and I like how you use them throughout to make the whole thing cohesive and come full circle. I really enjoyed how you described the time with your grandfather. Some of it took me a couple reads to quite get what was happening, but it felt full of longing from the start, and I think there's quite a bit more to be found here. This is a restless life of ours, even when there's nothing that lasts to hold onto.
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Thanks much for the read and comment. I can see that it might take a couple reads, between different times/conversations/etc. Thanks again.
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I read of love and the drifting emotions that guides towards legacy and the beauty impermanence. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks for reading, man. I was hoping for a happy sad distance type of respectful observation of this weird little thing we live into the universe.
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Thanks Mel. That means a bunch.
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that table’s now likely lonely
in landfill quiet,
the window sold
houses ago;
This image!
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Hey there and thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed..
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... isn't it wonderful... when we manage to capture in verse, bits and pieces of a past, we would love to revisit again, but never can... yet with every re-read of such a writing,.. has the power through our senses to put us back there again,... as much as reality ever possibly can..
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Yeah, writing is a powerful tool/art in that way... in the immersive portal sense. Thanks for the kind words and fave.
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I appreciate that, you awesome one, you.
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i find myself in the same stage of life, and man, that 5th stanza got me good
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Thanks bud. Yeah, it's bizarre to be the elderguy of the family by mid 40s, but I guess I'd rather be here than over there.
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Probably the most arresting piece I've read in a while. Congratulations and thanks for sharing.
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Tis much appreciated. Thank you, good sir.
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This hangs together really well. The story is told simply and with feeling.
It doesn't really need your Artist Comments, at least not for me. I 'see' what you say in profoundly simple ways. It's very moving.
so, i keep that little old man
in a comfortable shirt pocket
Those are just two of the lines out of all this that are really effective; altogether, it speaks volumes.
I want to keep the poem in a comfortable shirt pocket, and read it as needed.
Great job. Thanks.
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Thank you, friend. I'm glad it worked for you. Your kind words warmed my heart.
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train noises trailing
from the corner of his mouth
What a touching, evocative way to put this. It captures the situation well. Nicely done, throughout.
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Hey there and thank you. That means a lot. I wasn’t sure if the parts were too fragmented. It’s always weird writing close and personal stuff, because you know the meaning isn’t going to translate the same way.
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Yeah, I know the bit about writing personal stuff. I was especially wondering that about Makeup Artist.
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Well, hopefully you’re happy with your choice. I think you wrote something many can relate to. I tend to cheer up when a piece I’m emotionally attached to (but maybe still a little uneasy with) catches well with other folks here.
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I really like this one, Scott.
My takeaway might seem odd:
The circumstances [time, family, community]
we're born into can have a profound effect
on our lives and what we pass forward
for plus or minus, benefit or loss,
or both intermittently, and of course,
our memories, cherished or buried. 
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Haha. No, not odd at all. Maintaining the balance... by backfilling the place of the dying and dead, and hopefully advancing the whole thing forward by applying what we learn from their lives and our own. Thanks for the comment, bud.
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Oh, the fade out to an empty table, and lead in to the end choked me up. This hits close to home at the moment. So lovely, and bittersweet.
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Hey you. This means a bunch coming from you.
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Thank you, was a pleasure. Really enjoyed this. : )
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Much n many thanks, bud.
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I loved the wording of this piece...it flowed beautifully, tugging at the heart-strings...wonderful!
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Hey there and thank you so much.
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