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Somnambulist Sockdolager
| Open Poetry #15 |
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Somnambulist Sockdolager |
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RSWells Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533
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It must have been awful being you. The austere, abstinent denist father, cold, aloof and uncaring who provided comfortable circumstances for you and your 5 and a half siblings while most around you suffered through the depression. The mental bully whose emotional circumcision sprayed tears evenly around the dinner table to accompany the mashed potatoes. The pretentious and nymphomaniac mother soaked sins and neglect in the always hidden bottle. Looking down her masks nose at son's choices while humping Jesuits in the coal bin and doctors in the bargain. Churning out alcoholics, malcontents, homosexuals, ne'er do wells and wife beaters. You, learn'd, educated, an educator. A star to the starry eyed students, some of whom, doubtless to this day, credit you for whatever success they taste. A star spangled Jekyll. Shakesperes acquaintance who hid in Hyde on the ride home. Not a finger lifted but a hand smote your own. With foot to fleeing ass you sent us on our way to mirrors filled with Picasso visions and tears of depression, years of repression. You're buried somewhere or ashes fill some quasi-symbolic ceramic urn on the last fat ladies mantle. Maybe she spread you around some pre-arranged, appropriate to your limited experience location. Rife with meaning, released to peace. No one was watching, maybe she flushed you or mixed you in the kitty litter or a fruit cake enjoyed by some unknowing, adoring former students. But you are dead. That's what they came out and said moments after ushering me away from the deathbed. The big bad wolf, the batterer. Balding, bagged out eyes, useless balls at rest through the cheap hospital gown its harmless, tiny blue repititious pattern. Tubes sucking out the life. "I'm sorry" said I, "I'm sorry too" you said. Naw, not buried. You knew I'd dedicate a toilet seat tombstone. I remember leaning against the steam hot radiator despising myself for sorrying first. I'm the windmill spinning fresh air to the next generation, the turnstile directing my offspring down a gentler path. But the pivot man's weary and I can't let it go. [This message has been edited by RSWells (edited 08-13-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 Richard S. Wells jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Wow...This went down like lead. But I think I should thank you for making me think. I'm very fortunate to be able to celebrate a man's life--instead of his death. I hope that's not harsh or insensitive--but I was really feeling sorry for myself until I read this. And I'm going to shut up--I hate when I choke on my own foot. Powerful writing and written with some very realistic venom. And that's quite a weight to carry around. I DO hope this was artistic license, my friend. Not light-hearted or "feel-good" hearts and candy poetry, but MOST EXCELLENT. |
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rwood Member Elite
since 2000-02-29
Posts 3793Tennessee |
I agree with the above. A marksman in shot. I applaud the straight shooting, use of words known but rarely said. Opine in the dark of self examining expression. Once again, biting the eyes wide open. Potent and commanding. Sincerely, Regina |
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shadow of the fall Member
since 2001-08-13
Posts 83Indiana |
I'd like to read more like this! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Sometimes we should damn our memories...other times, we have to recall them to stay on the correct path... This is excellent, and is being placed in my library...because. |
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RSWells Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533 |
I almost didn't post this and even pictured getting kicked out of here for doing so, which would have saddened me. "Feel good" poetry is one reason I like Passions but not all recollections and experiences are drawn from upbringings of flora and fauna, some from the earths dirt and labored soil of its pain. I'm glad serenity finds balance but would not seek to minimize her loss for on the grand scale the parting of a truly good man is a heavier one than one lacking the golden remnants of wisdom, stability and Love for his family. Thank you. "Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to decieve" |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
The mental bully whose emotional circumcision sprayed tears evenly around the dinner table to accompany the mashed potatoes. The pretentious and nymphomaniac mother soaked sins and neglect in the always hidden bottle. Looking down her masks nose at son's choices while humping Jesuits in the coal bin and doctors in the bargain. ================================== A star spangled Jekyll. Shakesperes acquaintance who hid in Hyde on the ride home. Not a finger lifted but a hand smote your own. With foot to fleeing ass you sent us on our way to mirrors filled with Picasso visions and tears of depression, years of repression =========================== I'm the windmill spinning fresh air to the next generation, the turnstile directing my offspring down a gentler path. ======================== once again you take my poetic critique words from me... all I could think while reading this was... damn........... and, that I'm sorry...NOT pity...but understanding the long term effects and the scars we carry with us... and I understand not being able to let go... but the difference is... when we can rise above the legacy of inherited pain and break the cycle. Be that windmill...and be damn proud of it... and heal in the knowing that your children wont ever need to write this poem. take care Richard. jm I know no one is to blame |
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Janette
since 2001-07-20
Posts 2843Chicagoland for now |
Wow...very powerful...thank you for sharing it with us! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Oh Richard! I am truly glad you wrote this and these lines had me in absolute heaves of tears for you: "I remember leaning against the steam hot radiator despising myself for sorrying first." What a demon he was I was going to compare my sorry ass life to this but why? It is over, and I hope one day it will be for you too. Keep writing it out, it does help. And remember one thing you are an excellent Father, excellent! ((huge hugs)) To see real beauty ~ close your eyes and listen ~* Mysteria *~ [This message has been edited by Mysteria (edited 08-13-2001).] |
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citizenx Member
since 2001-07-31
Posts 189motorcade |
RS, First all a huge appaluse for posting this and for not taming your emotions. This poem is excellent on all levels, its emotion, its structure. Everything about this poem has me in awe. This is powerful, ok now that I have stopped ranting about the way in which this poem has been delivered and I am beginning to focus on the emotions and all I can say is I am sorry if this what you lived, I hope that writing this has helped the healing. If you don't mind I would like to print this poem off to read more carefully. THank you for sharing this. shadows flicker sweet end tame |
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Elizabeth Santos Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269Pennsylvania |
You tackled me over and over with this masterful piece of writing. Troublesome recollections phrased in blatant powerful language makes for an effective and memorable write Applauding here! Liz |
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Elizabeth Santos Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269Pennsylvania |
P.S. This is one of the best I've read in a long time. My desire is to be able to write free verse maybe half this well. I would be elated. Superb! (Shaking your hand) Liz |
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