Short Widower Poems

The angel wife wands silvery dust over her weeping widower...

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broken man
the widower
his empty shell



posted on October 9, 2018...

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Deject jejune muck
Underarm hollow tax cows
Nods lone land per hoof
Grasshopper a widower 
Yelps fable ape logy bog...

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Widower Jean Chardin
simplicity was his genre then
Small crystallized moments of intimacy
in life study symbols we see...

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Fierce p a n g s of loneliness grip grief-stricken Jerome;
The single-family house he resides in was once a home.
...

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In our house, 'tis the season for football
Cheering our teams, jeering the ref's calls
But he's not the sort
To care about sports
So my hubby gets lonely every fall!...

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A star shines very bright with the dark falls
A young widow and a mother hold hands
The widower isn’t the father of the child
He is the husband of mother of the child!...

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Listen to poem:

lightning strikes
leaves nothing but
the shell of him
in one fell swoop
the loss of her
too much to bear



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Posted on October 31, 2021...

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Senator Thomas Massie, a true con-vid era man.' Now a
Widower.) And international hero grand..' He stands for the great state
Of Daniel Boone, an advocacte of freedom who just liked
His (Elbow room)
...

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When his wife died after three months of marriage
the widower tried to fill the hole in his heart
with food, TV, cards, booze, Buddhism
but none could take her place
so instead
he put a hole in his head....

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There was a widower King who was
Searching for the Queen of his heart
Lonely in his vast kingdom
Proclaimed that the lady
Who answers at the
First intent a
Riddle would
Be his
Wife









1-8-2016...

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A widower once had a spring visitor,  a dove with no mate. It roosted in a tree near where the old man often sat. It cooed to him.

One day the man's daughter looked for him, he was gone. She was startled by the sudden flight of two doves.

The old man was never found....

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Widower


In the miner’s shack
the vase on the dresser
squats beneath
a giant cactus
planted by hands
flinty and callused.

“When Mona was here,
this vase got roses,
and lots of water.
After she left  
I gave it this cactus.
It never needs water.” 


Donal Mahoney...

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Bleak
Sky,
Dark gray,
Charcoal drab,
Like an old man's night,
New widower beside the grave.
Desolate, forlorn, now individual, unattached,
Free, at liberty, unconnected, disconnected to life but still alive, pained



Contest:Tons Of Comma Fun
Sponsor: Russell Sivey...

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Ralph
Widower, father, grandfather, friend
Brother of Bill, Bob, Ruthann, Joann
Lover of, golf, baseball, cruising
Thanks to great family and friends,
I feel gracious, appreciative, blessed
I fear loss of loved ones, poor health, snakes
Would like to see Australia, Hawaii, Grand Canyon
Resident of Newburgh, New York
Taylor...

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Knowing there are
many words for night;
mightwatch,nightshade,nightfall

but none for the space
of a halved bed,
an envelope starched,
flat with white,
unslept in

and hands devoid of
a trace of perfume or rest warmth,
a gentle curve.

Let him cherish the lost presence

of a drowned moon
of darkness long
of standing time....

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He can find the corners, follow the curves.
He counts the space of a pace.

Sometimes his dead wife will open a cupboard
or wardrobe door. A pale blue light shines,
as if the wardrobe or the cupboard
had opened a window in his mind.

He does not understand what this means,
but knows she will put his socks away
or find them.
while he sleeps....

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Lunchbox

A poignant story
of a neglected wife 
and a widower,
about to retire.
 
There is goof up 
in her husband's
and widower's
warm lunch-boxes.

Love ensues 
in love notes
in tiffins.

Tiffins
unite

hearts.


January 23, 2016
Contest: Favourite Movie
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron

* Lunchbox is a Bollywood movie which won many national and international awards in 2013....

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Little Joe, Hoss, Adam, and Ben.
I see them on the tube again.
They live in central Nevada
at a place called “Ponderosa”.

Widower Ben, and his three boys
shared their pain, as well as their joys.
We saw laughter, as well as tears, 
during a run of fourteen years.

They showed us a real frontier life,
full of adventure with some strife.
They still stand out among the best
in their exploits of the Old West....

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He knows 
how to see the dancing atoms
of invisibility, how 
to look through unlit windows,
as if he were light gazing in.

Sometimes his deceased wife
will open a cupboard
or wardrobe door,
a faint light sheens
as if a window
had opened in his mind.

He doesn’t know what this means.
His hands seem guided
to find what must be found.

She puts worn socks 
in the wash basket while he sleeps....

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She still fills her housecoats
on cold nights.
The cat will always be
the shadow of her hand.
He will dwell in this home
that she wove around his recliner,
scrimshawing each thought
with her presence.
He mourns, not at the cemetery,
but from the other side
of a double bed.
He rearranges nick-knacks
by not touching anything.
He does however
place some sepia moments
in a shoe box
  she has provided....

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As a man with a gun, he was among the best.
He lived in North Fork out in the west.
As a widower, he felt much anguish and pain.
This extraordinary man was Lucas McCain.
He and his son Mark lived alone on a ranch.
On a tree of life, they were a strong branch.
Town marshal Micah often called him for aid.
Lucas stood strong, steady, and staid.
No one included McCain among the meek.
He stood as a hero on the television each week.
...

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Brittle bones crackle through the hall,
as I slowly trudge to an empty bed.
Outside my window dies a barren Fall,
and what survives but my Winter dread?

Slipping into the bitter-chilled covers?
shrinking beneath ‘til I’m cloaked blind.?
Despising the demons who steal our lovers?
like feckless butchers of the conscious mind.??

Death stares me in my jealous eyes,
withholds from me his seductive knife.
Does he not hear my bitter cries?
Why plague me with abandoned life??...

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We learned about lonely people
At a tender impressionable age

Our neighbour was sixty or so
A widower leading a quiet life

Grand-father figure to us kids
We’d drop by visit the odd afternoon

It was dark and lacked life or joy
His little house felt smoky and cloistered

He taught us how to play cribbage
First sips of beer, cigarettes, silver coins

He seemed so painfully lonely
In his little house smoky and cloistered



Posted on December 26, 2017...

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You died twenty years ago today.
On February 7, 1998, you passed away.
You were born in 1910 and died at the age of eighty-seven.
Twenty years ago, you left this Earth and went to Heaven.

You became a widower in 1957 and had your kids to finish raising.
You finished raising your kids by yourself and that was amazing.
When you died, it was something that I hated.
You were my Papaw and you were appreciated.

(Dedicated to Burkette Greene who died on February 7, 1998.)...

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