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Harry Boatman 1879-1916

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Poem 10

This extended epitaph is from my new anthology, Voices From Mt. Olive Cemetery. It is a work in progress.

Harry Boatman 1879-1916 It is true my friends. A man thinks of many things While on his deathbed. A man remembers and reflects and responds. He responds, as with a child, to The insistent pleadings and proddings of the wall clock, Responds and obeys, as with a woman expecting, to The cosmic commands of the moody evening tides. The incredible colossal circling globe, of Spasm and sequence, of eyes opening and shutting. And there it was my friends! My last orgasmic breath! My final desperate inhalation! My final impeccable embrace! And when it happened, When my closing eyes saw sable night at noon time, Two black and yellow butterflies, Mating mindlessly in the side garden, Took me by spirit High above the wanton walnut trees here, And at last, I saw The soft benevolent eyes of sweet Jesus Beckoning me to join him, there! From the blinding masticating center Of the rising resplendent sun.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 5/22/2025 10:50:00 PM
Hello Stark how are u? It seems to me that you visited a friend, I'm not sure but I invite u to read some of my poems because it's good for your soul. I also ask if and only if u'd like to comment on it... Jac---> my Jackie was a bad girl, so that we have Jac in girls and short for my real name. Goodluck on ur journey!
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things