I’m watching the Open,
(To me, such a treat!)
Surprised to see every
Unoccupied seat.
The weather is iffy -
There’s been lots of rain.
Perhaps that is why
Empty seats still remain.
Of course, it’s a work day,
With kids back in school,
And sneaking away
Maybe isn’t so cool.
But I don’t regret
That I’m watching from home,
A comfortable place
To be writing this poem.
It’s nice to see sports
Where the action is made,
Though the travel and cost
Make TV a fair trade.
A strange thing happens as I age,
Which cannot be controlled.
I tend to focus, everywhere,
On people who are old.
Today, a doctor’s waiting room,
A check-up for my eyes,
Was filled with those so elderly,
From seats they couldn’t rise.
As names were called, they shuffled out,
(Our wait time very wrong!)
But watching them, I wondered,
Is this group where I belong?
To get there, on the bus I sat
As people moved inside,
With canes and walkers, hoping
For a seat unoccupied.
And on TV, up on the stage,
On Oscar night, I saw
The older actors missing
All their sparkle, once a draw.
When I was young, I rarely noticed
Seniors within range,
Yet now, reluctantly, I see
My view’s begun to change.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me lose my mind—
blowing kisses to the empty air,
talking to an unoccupied car seat,
whispering goodnight
to a picture frame.
Holding your urn tightly,
feeling my heart beating
in sync with yours.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me be the wild one—
still wearing your ring,
laughing at your jokes
only I can understand,
weaving our memories
into every corner
of this hollowed world.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me stay mad—
a woman who refuses
to amputate her own heart,
a woman who loves
like death forgot
to close the door.
Let me dance with your spirit
beneath the invisible stars—
spinning inside the love we built,
the love not even death
can unravel.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then I will be wild forever—
gloriously,
tenderly,
fiercely yours,
until the stars themselves
forget how to burn.
With her youngest child now in college…beginning her own life quest…
Ali, our daughter…(as Deborah and I and so many parents before)
is left with an empty nest.
We spend years keeping our children close
giving them someone whom they can rely on
and then one day we look around
and just like that…
they’re gone.
And we’re faced with the paradox of parenting…
that pulls at our heartstrings:
How we’ve nurtured our children’s roots…
while helping to develop their wings.
Hoping those roots of love we’ve nurtured…
and helped to beautify…
will keep us all connected…no matter where they fly.
And though there’s a twinge of sadness as our children soar…
we also feel blessed
knowing those wings we helped create
will bring them back into our nest.
I hope Ali…when she looks at their unoccupied rooms
beyond her tears will also find a smile
knowing her nest will never completely empty…
just vacant for a while.
Picture # 1
Out on the front porch
Sits the unoccupied rocking chair
Soaking up the rising sun
Sounds surround as day begins
Come friend, sit, settle, scribe
I thought it'd be a blessing
to reminisce
knowing I, the conveyer
A-I took over
as I spoke what ought
A-I did naught
it typed out its choice
none was my voice
as I watched the monitor
do its my detour
of every word that I had said
went in the water--dead
every thought of blessing
became depressing
my time out to reminisce
turned out to be a mess
and so I thought I'd enough
and just press it off
an unoccupied room a computer sits idle
in front of it sits an opened bible
A-I has nothing to offer
without The Author
A little Coast Guard boat just now
Went chug-chug-chugging by.
It left behind a wake, above which
Seagulls like to fly.
Aside from that, the river’s calm
With not a tug in sight,
Although a ferry might come soon,
Their schedule kept tight.
It’s chilly so the benches are
Unoccupied as well,
But since the sun is shining,
I’ve been captured by its spell.
I’m happy to be out here
As I sit and write this poem,
Knowing when I’m cold or hungry,
In five minutes I’ll be home.
In the alley of darkness
There, my morality lurks with uncertainty
My heart gilded in a wrapper of sin
Like an offering to the lord of darkness
Battered and shaken by sin
I am weighed down by the cross of my sins
My body is weak to unchain itself
I am tired and lost
My heart and mind are far away from pure
The moment I turn to the light I am shoved back to darkness for my will is weak
So weak the devil plays with me
My spirit is empty and unoccupied
Darkness is over the face of my soul’s abyss
Let your Spirit hover over my soul
And bring light into this abyss.
In the upper room with my faith and prayer
Singing songs and saying words out of my depth
I want to be lost in your aura
For in you is tranquility and grace.
Just like the risen Lord
Let me defeat death
And my soul shall rise!
The house is still and quiet
nothin moves or stirs
but for the occupant and little dog within;
a sip if coffee, dark roasted and hot
together, we enjoy and observe life
with the yard on display thru the sliding door,
early February clings to winter
icy cold and frozen stiff
rain, snow mix, sleet falling hard on the earth;
the furnace hums spewing heat
warming the cold of a long mid-winter
keeping the pipes from a freeze over;
not a sound other than ticking of the clock
no creeks or cracklings of life
an abandonment of time and space,
alone in the silence of the morning
unoccupied dreams and memories revive,
closed windows and doors keep us safe and warm
here, wihin the house.
There is plenty of room for living here on earth
47 percent of the USA is unoccupied, for what it’s worth
And, if that statistic astounds,
In other countries, more space abounds
Over 80 percent of Canada is not being used
While people in crowded parts of the world are abused
Might not some shuffling be in order …
An acre of land for those knocking at our border
And, if they cultivate it and make it thrive (i.e. Israel)
Give them another two, three, four, or five
To help alleviate the food shortages, we currently know
America is at her best when we are helping her grow!
written November 1, 2021
On the morning after, from a stormy rainy night
I sit on my stoop watching the sun grow bright
Stillness and silence deaf my ear
Silenced sounds are everywhere
Chicks peek from a hole in the tree
On a cable, the chicks parents watch; quietly
Not even the leaf's on the tree sway
Silence deadens the noise away
The hare in the grass- not once, did he hop
The dewdrops on the roses- can't even drop
A puddle rests motionless atop' my table
Mirroring the shadows of the birds on the cable
Porch'd- a rocking chair sits still and unoccupied
I'm happy the old man- has not yet died
He stares from his window all comfy and warm
Smiling, the morning after the rainy nights storm
She slips in
beneath the well-protected opening
of an unoccupied birdhouse,
painted with yellow sunflowers
and an unseen dark circled hole;
the place just the right size
where her mate staged twigs
and leaves for a nesting place,
hollowed out along the hemlock trunk
wrapped an entwined by honeysuckle vines;
this was the place
she recalled it well
so near to where she fledged;
now a comfy hideaway
for her to lay her eggs
here, she would sing again
tweet out her symphony
raise her young
and bask happily,
within the bounty of the garden stage.
About Face
David J Walker
It is about face
About time and place
And direction
And unoccupied space
In East or West that
We face
And the unknowing of
which is forward or
backward or north
or south
the illusion of which is
up and which is down
bound by the gravity of
anticipation in
each new moon and season
Named for the gods lost
To antiquity
Let the Clocks Chime
David J Walker
Time comes for all orphans to
Take their place away from the
Now empty houses of the them
(as we were) when
The streets were familiar playgrounds
Streets in the same place in a different day
In a far-away unoccupied space
On the road to forever
That has subtly rearranged the names and
Addresses of time and eternity
Where unknown but familiar faces of
Tomorrow's children stake their claim
To discovery
Let the clocks chime marking the
Away we have come
once impulsive now
deserted forsaken
cast aside
jilted
stranded
rejected
dumped
ditched
unused
neglected
idle
unoccupied
uninhabited
I stand empty
words fail me
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