(I promise I’ll try to post something more
on the humorous side if I can, tomorrow. I can’t believe the month is over!
This is the first April I’ve skipped so many times—sorry.)
For those that only read my blog, I
didn’t write last night because I found out yesterday that a dear college buddy
of mine died in a car accident. I wrote a tribute to her on my Facebook page
and posted pictures, but no poetry.
Last night I did look at a poem I wrote
about her in college, but it isn’t very flattering to her at the time, so I
won’t post it. It isn’t fair to her. So that one will stay in my journal.
I tried to rough out other poems, but
the well is quite dry. I tried to write about my recent friend that died, but
then I kept thinking how I found out in January of another college friend that
also died---a couple of years ago----but to me it feels recent. And the phrase,”They
haven’t died, they’ve gone on…” from some movie popped into my head and I
thought what a funny notion. So, here is my attempt at a poem tonight.
Gone On
Two friends have gone on
Unrehearsed
I didn’t know
Both a violent rip
Not a planned trip
One closer to me than other
Pinpoints of time
Hand cut jewels that were mine
Many ideas discussed
And a trust
That was there
Things we shared
Despite how much had gone on
I knew them in the dawn
Of me discovering real
Such appeal to walk
And talk over nothing and everything
They left sudden
I am bereft
Deaf in one ear
Wanting to be near
Now, I cannot
It must stop! Please just stop?
And wait for that train or plane
The trip sounds good
But as I understood
Our reservations are to be so much
later
To cross that sea
How can it be?
Two women so strong
Have gone on
And I didn’t know
I was slow to notice
My vote would have been for them to
stay
Not go away
A vacation I could stand
I’d hire a band
to welcome them back
Now I’m slack
Here crying in my beer
I should celebrate, right?
Go on all night
Talking about how good they’d been
It’s the trend
I have
But in the quiet
There is no riot
Clamoring for more
Just pictures that don’t speak
And how I seek to know who they were
It is like a burr
Stuck to my pants
Pricking me
in a spot
I can’t quite reach
I know they’ve gone on
And I can’t respond
Like a rock thrown
Deep into a pond
I meant to skip
It makes that sick
Lack of bounce sound
A deep high hitting the ground plink
That stinks and I feel cheated
I want that perfect-in-my-hand rock
To fling and go on zinging
Across to the other side
To go on
Okay, I let you go
And show that I know
Not when but where
You’ve gone on
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