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Open Poetry #47
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Secret Untold
| Open Poetry #47 |
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Secret Untold |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana 
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 What is a secret if it’s not told, Until you grow old, bitter and cold. As you lay there in your death rattle, Trying to tell, hope you don’t prattle. It's a secret kept for secret's sake, To be honored for trust not to break. It's buried deep within your core, It's about someone you know, for sure. A risqué skeleton in the cupboard, Is the tale you miserly hoard. So black and distasteful it is, No one could guess it in a quiz. Locked away deep inside your dark gloom, It festers and grows within its tomb. Struggling for release, to be unbound, To spread its malice all over town. It's been so long, this story you hold, Legally even if it were told, All the shocked looks of concerned faces, Might be found but only in traces. He looked into his dear wife's eyes, Would it be to her a great surprise? That after all these many years, Would his telling her be so severe? He sighed and stared across the street, At Fred and Ethel's house of concrete. Wondering if they'd still be his friends, Or telling the secret would be the end. In the day to day living of life, The secret has caused him untold strife. Where he knew for a natural fact, It was all so real, nothing abstract. It came to pass one bright sunny day, The dark secret was making him pay; Indescribable for what he knew, Like cancer inside his brain it grew. It caused him to be strict, toe the mark, Almost screamed it out at the ballpark. Needing to loose the hellfire within, Said nothing, just cheered his team to win. Lived his life without satisfaction, Fearful of the people's reaction. His wife told everyone he was mad, He just wanted to say he was sad. He lived his life carrying the load, Of forgotten sins and mislaid woes. But something kept it all bottled up, Even when he drank from whisky's cup. Now, though, as the priest is leaning close, Giving last rights; has hairs in his nose. Pulling the priest down near to his lips, Told secret; the priest his wrist did grip. The old one observed the young vicar, As his face frowned and his eyes flickered. He died smiling, the secret passed on, Now the priest was the secret's next pawn ~ Those are my principles, and if you don't like them ... well, I have others. ~ |
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| © Copyright 2011 Jerry Pat Bolton - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Yeah ... what a burden those secrets can represent! Dear Jerry, you have written an outstanding poem on this theme. Impressive! How many minutes have passed since I wrote the above comment? I am here trying to bottle up again all the secrets that rattled at the prison bars in my brain after reading your poem! Now I must take one by one again and let them go like balloons so that I can feel light again.  See what an effect your words had? Love, Margherita |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Haha! Well, Margherita , at least you have "released" your secrets and now don't have to ever think of them again. I always appreciate your timely comments. Thanks. ~ Those are my principles, and if you don't like them ... well, I have others. ~ |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Much enjoyed your poem about the weight of secrets, Jerry, especially the twist at the end. Strange thing, I wrote a poem about secrets a few days ago, but haven't posted yet. I have posted my quota for today, but will possibly post it tomorrow. It is called Thornbush. Owl |
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
You cliff hanging scoundrel! Red herring with Fred and Ethel and I'm hook line and sinkered. Way to go my friend...the end was perfect. Lori |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Thank you, Owl, I'll keep an eye out for Thornbush, and I appreciate your comments. Lori, many thanks for always being in my corner. I am more appreciative of that than you many know. "cliff hanging scoundrel," eh? At least you got the scoundrel right. ~ Those are my principles, and if you don't like them ... well, I have others. ~ |
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