Death Bed Conversion

Lines

He gradually fell apart -

Didn't clip his nails -

Didn't cut his hair -

Didn't change his clothes -

In his disrepair

Didn't shave or shower -

Didn't even care -

He only had the verse

He wrote but never read -

It couldn't have been worse

Or so his doctor said -

4-11-14

Death Bed Conversion

Fifty years they battered him

With everything they had.

Slow healing wounds did nothing to

Convince him they were bad.

He said when he lay dying,

You were right and I was wrong.

People are disgusting.

So I die and end my song.”

He who doesn't have a home

Will have a soul inside.

He who cannot find a place

Will make a place and hide.

He who gave away his toys

And so has no possessions

Will keep what no one can purloin -

Some curious confessions.

4-11-14

 

Personalities

I don't recall what Uncle Byron said,

But I remember jokes by Oscar Wilde.

The trip into the mountains with my mother

In the photo album in my mind

Melts in memory like mountain snow

On a tree. But clearly I can see

Dearest Mrs. Dobson as Aunt Eller

Hauling out a gun in “Oklahoma!”

And that was over 50 years ago.

I remember Keats, but not my the news.

What Noel Coward said, but not my father.

Forgotten songs from 1934,

Popular before I was alive.

It's my world, but anyone is welcome,

If there's any thing he'd care to add.

4-11-14

 

Treatment Of The Sick

Don't blame a man who's sick,

If you're so inclined.

Forgive his sad propensity

To beat and rob you blind.

There is something missing

Somewhere in his mind.

Try to understand him,

And show him life is kind.

If he takes your car,

Help him learn to drive.

Show him there are reasons

To laugh and be alive.

Open your apartment.

When all his friends arrive,

Let them feel they're wanted

Outside their little dive.

4-12-14

 

Waking Up

Most everyone wakes up

Different (the sea)

As if they had a second

Personality.

In about an hour,

In a little while,

Things will fall in place,

And they'll begin to smile.

But this little taste

Of underworld at dawn

Is something that endures

Until the dream is gone.

4-12-14

Topics

I don't know what to write,

Adhering to the law,

Accurate descriptions

Of life's phenomena.

Not to justify them,

Depict but not explain,

Standing in the garden,

Crying in the rain.

I'm not a man with vision

Born with things to write,

But born with just some empty

Urges to indite.

4-12-14