A piece evoking heartbreak, initiation, and resilience through friendship.
Relating to a club which may not exist in the literal sense, but exists in the spiritual.
A club for those who have felt broken, but lifted by others who have probably been through the same rituals linked to heartbreak.
Title.
Are you a member of The Midnight Losers Club?
(A lone voice whispers)
I joined last night
Went through the initiation
Got my heart broken in two
Took proof
Showed them all on the big screen
A picture of my ex-husband smiling as I stood crying
Now I wear the secret brand under my right sleeve in French.
Une fois brisés, nous nous relevons grâce à l'amitié
Car nous sommes membres du Midnight Losers Club
(Once broken but we rise through friendship
For we are members of The Midnight Losers Club)
(C) Copyright John Duffy
Uncle Eugene’s breaking down.
Murmurs come from the room down the hall -
Surgery. Blood clot. A third kind of cancer.
“It’s just a matter of time.”
But for now, I’m laying by the fire,
warmth seeping into my bones.
My grandparents are alive,
one falling into incoherence,
but not bad yet.
My mother is here.
My father is upstairs.
We are under one roof.
And I am escaping into a written world
by the warmth of the fire.
The world outside is cold,
and eventually I must face the chill
for the sake of my dog
and because time marches forever forward
with graceless strides.
But for once, my mind is calm,
and I will drape myself with this moment
when the wind picks back up.
Christmas can be a hard time for many.
Especially those in The Midnight Losers Club.
If you are, surround yourself with great friends and you'll be ok.
Salute.
Are you a member of The Midnight Losers Club?
(A lone voice whispers)
I joined last night
Went through the initiation
Got my heart broken in two
Took proof
Showed them all on the big screen
A picture of my ex wife smiling as I stood crying
Now I wear the secret brand under my right sleeve in French
Une fois brisés, nous nous relevons grâce à l'amitié
Car nous sommes membres du Midnight Losers Club
(Once broken but we rise through friendship
For we are members of The Midnight Losers Club)
(C) Copyright John Duffy
Foundation of the piece.
Do the broken belong to a secret club?
Have you been a member but unknowingly with out the tattoo?
For did others help you rise after your mighty fall
When you joined The Midnight Losers Club?
The Midnight Losers Club represents losing out to heartbreak and any future happiness with a person involved.
They say the abused becomes the abuser,
but I will never turn out to be you.
Your shadows may haunt me,
but never consume.
Every scar you inflicted,
every tear you caused
has given me the strength to never fear.
Your cruelty taught me what not to become,
but it also taught me empathy.
I carry your wounds,
but not your hate,
as I refuse to conform to your twisted fate.
They say the abused becomes the abuser,
but my mind sings a different tune.
With every step,
I prove society wrong.
In healing,
I grow immensely strong.
Your ghost may haunt me time to time,
but I will never let my past dictate my future,
as in shadows deep,
my spirt climbs,
to reach beyond the pain you caused.
I'm quite surprised I've written so many
a few years ago, I hadn't any :O
Now --almost three hundred in my list
the "right side of my brain" doth persist
And it's all thanks to PoetrySoup :-)
(well first off to God, let me recoup)
But-- your contests! So motivating
positive feedback, so non-hating :)
I just moved up to "lifetime member"
these early years I'll still remember--
--all your patience and encouragement
hope maybe someday I'll be in print...
Think of the clock chiming
its your homecoming
At home she's a tourist
filling the disco floor with virtue
her bourgeois extreme thrives,
transport yourself a new personality
brandish your interment interest
show your mental process
2 steps forward
6 back
At home she feels timid
there's no gang sweetheart
just the statutes of the once great
awaiting toppling
in dew clad desperate February
when in the top ten
should be premium member
who you will pay for
You're the one I remember,
Whenever I am sombre:
Our group's unique member
Adored by a great number:
Our home town's full number...
You race to peaks, not clamber,
Reach goals fast after slumber
After beer: urine amber!
With your heel crushed a mamba...
One to watch from September
To Christmas' December
Which club would you dismember?
Not until a penumbra.
So is your card from the NRA
or the LGBTQIA?
It depends on the card;
sometimes, “Get off my yard!”
is all that one needs to say.
----------
in response to Gershon Wolf's Card-Carrying Septuagenarian
I fully belong to Linguistics,
Literature for the joy that sticks:
The Sharp Poetry from its Drum Sticks
Writings one does and notes time that ticks…
Wholly I belong to Linguistics,
Though it lacks flattering lipsticks,
Not easy using its walking sticks:
Where you don’t watch and Word itself picks!
My Thesis on Pauseology,
My newer interest Tonology
And begging Dialectology;
Minds have in these boned big yawing holes
But still shall I score a handful goals!
His time’s Best Student of Linguistics
To methods adhering, no twists…
Here we go, I, Linguistic Guide:
If you fall behind, ‘Not a good ride.’
Would that this poet were in Greece!
Her heart enchanted on its sunlit sands.
Her lover, kissing her porcelain hands.
His eyes, deep, dark as Kalmata olives.
The homes, white, with bright, blue tops.
Her heart beating so loudly, fearing it may stop!
But as the sun sets, she is far calmer.
Her head on his chest, she hears its Greek beat.
Then in Hellenic peace ,falls asleep to it’s melodic treat.
Sappho and Homer, she felt reincarnated.
To pen of love was always her deepest desire!
Deceased ages ago, but love brought back
her pen’s desire!
Dedicated to James
Thank you, dear friend!
8/31/2022
Though you’re the newest member of the Steve Miller Band Crowd,
You’re a wonderful addition… please keep that in mind.
Nothing but praise have your co-workers mentioned out loud.
They speak of you fondly and say that you are quite kind.
Clad in just a diaper,
Nestled in his father’s lap,
A brand-new baby’s by the river,
Deep into a nap.
I think he needs a blanket
Since the bench is in the shade,
But his parents seem relaxed
With the decision they have made.
I’d guess that not a week ago,
That newborn babe was curled
In the cozy womb, yet now he’s here,
A member of the world.
Let me tell you a story….
About a year loving pet named big red,
I still can’t believe he’s dead.
He was such a wonderful dog,
He wasn’t a bump on a log.
He was my protector and friend,
My love for him will never end.
Everyone in the neighborhood,
adored him too, he was good.
I cried when he got hit by a car,
his passing left a gigantic scar.
Dad buried him and in our backyard,
everyone in the family took it hard.
He wasn’t just a pet, he was my brother,
we had the same father and mother.
I will always cherish him in my heart,
for he my heart right from the start.
04/16/2022
A PS Member Died Today
No, not a trophy winner,
Nor a contest production diva!
She was Madelyn McCay.
Who with the Lord, this night will
have dinner.
She had been fighting cancer for
over two years.
And not once did I hear her complain
Or shed buckets of hot tears.
She dreamt to live long!
Madelyn wanted her comments to me,
Not in an email stuffed.
But in plain view for all to see?
She was so proud of me.
As I see you, in heaven cousin,
Entreating me to smile and go on!
To Learn to walk again!
Fearless, in the California sun.
If some comments she did not
answer
Probably in treatment was she.
Not one to ever complain
Pity, was simply not her game.
She sails tonight in God’s colorful
marina.
Down the pier comes her husband
Jim!
So many years he has been gone.
But no more~ they can watch the
stars.
Humming their forever. love song!
12/7/2021
Dedication to Cousin Madelyn, from
Cousin Panagiota.
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