David Kavanagh Poet Rhyme

You Can Only Drown Once

Looking into a crystal clear river, itching to bathe my feet 
Water’s look shallow, I’m buried in thought gone obsolete 
The trickling liquid beckons me over, promising of a cure
My reality is a long time stolen, faltering into life obscure 

Torn between instinct and choice, ambivalence devouring 
I make a compromise to dip one toe, not too overpowering 
Testing water proves difficult, distracted by gaps and voids
Cursing and blabbering alone, answering myself annoyed 

Anticipation is conflagration, expectation being unknown 
Dementia doesn’t have a reservation, comes with life alone 
One thing leads to another, I’ve wandered out of their cage 
This river’s measured now, my toe the approximate gauge

Looking again find I’m knee deep, as memory starts to fade
Pushing out further still, forgotten is the compromise made
Keep wading outward, I have no comprehension of bounds 
River is unable to claim me, my mind was long ago drowned 


Your Favorite Rhyme Poem in August 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France 
10/08/2021

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Constance La France September 2, 2021 at 3:21 PM David, beautiful and congratulations on your win in my contest 2 peace and tranquility _ Constance David Kavanagh September 2, 2021 at 3:35 PM Thank you Constance, this one means a lot to me, having watched my mother go through the ravages of dementia, she was indeed the inspiration behind my poem, cheers David

Christopher Flaherty August 11, 2021 at 12:16 PM You paint by numbers David a startlingly Bleak painting of a future that faces us all. Number 1 Cancer yellow Number 2 Dimentia blue. Wrote a poem called Team Orange V Team Green. Would love you to take the time to read it if you possibly would Sir David Kavanagh August 11, 2021 at 12:53 PM Thanks Christopher You know what it’s all relevant to the observer, my dad died suddenly just shy of 60, it was shocking for the family my mother slowly from 80 onwards took another 7 years, both affected me differently, so I don’t think there is a good death, unless it’s Hitler or Stalin or some other murderous psychopath Christopher Flaherty August 11, 2021 at 12:35 PM So sorry to hear that about your mother my friend. Is there any such thing as a good death David Kavanagh August 11, 2021 at 12:26 PM Thanks Christopher, I had the misfortune of watching dementia kill my mother, it’s a cruel unrelenting abyss, hopefully some day a lasting treatment or cure is found, I will check out your poem shortly, cheers David

Joanna Daniel August 11, 2021 at 2:01 AM The final ending is superb, such a great metaphor for dementia, David, some brilliant writing:) David Kavanagh August 11, 2021 at 2:42 AM Thank you again Jo for stopping by, this one actually wrote itself literally, was in there just ripening for a long time waiting to be plucked, cheers David

L Milton Hankins August 10, 2021 at 7:30 PM A marvelous, superb piece of writing, David, with superb rhymes. I really enjoyed this one! David Kavanagh August 11, 2021 at 12:12 AM Thanks Milton, one I’d rather not be writing, but I tend to try tackle the dark scenarios of reality and life in general, this one has a personal interest, as my mother Christine passed away with dementia in 2016, cheers David