little boys playing in the clay road
picking up turtles that fly in the wind
run, run away from the scary old widowers
or you might never be a boy again!
we can only be boys for a little longer
so let’s take our cheer and carry it on
as the great warrior Atreus did
when he gave his life for victory
we’re in Rome, with Kalsus and Andeus
and all of our friends from the east and the west
we are here, with this one chance to say
“we are here, we cheer, to hoping the words here last”
for we are the last of our kind to be here
and we don’t know what comes after
but we don’t give in to fear
and we hope to give you laughter
forever and ever
we are the sons of a generation
that will never be seen again
so laugh until the bitter end
hold the name of the Empire
in the hearts of all who hear
and remember, always remember!
Nothing comes from nothing!
So we will never die!
As a non-golfing husband I revel at tales
Of sunshine filled days chasing small balls,
Some in the rough others in sand,
All these brave girls fighting nature's pitfalls.
I hear of the times the flock of wild ducks
Hindered a drive that was perfectly hit,
And what of those trees that magically moved
With a subsequent shout 'I just want to quit'.
But then I'm regaled with feats of great skill
Such as the time a Birdie was made,
Out comes the flask, big glugs all around,
Magical moments that no-one would trade.
They say Golf's a passion a lifelong pursuit,
One day may be heaven the other pure hell,
Neither cool mornings nor that full midday heat,
Apparently stops that will to excel.
Yet there's one thing I notice each week,
Yes the real pleasure from playing the game
And what's not to like from those magical views
But without one's good friends the day's not the same.
So to all poor Golf widowers awoken by shrilling alarms,
Then never quite knowing what time we'll see our fair brides,
There's a much higher calling we can but embrace,
'Happy wife happy life' the true gift this pastime provides.
With animosity I endure each pain
Read each word as they describe disdain
Do not compare or look for blame
Distill yet comforts release the gain
The outer world always preaches
while villains they reign like leaches
Do not give solace or even fame
Realize the love that comes from your name
Though long placed aside inside it stayed
Though only through words love was made
I recognize my loss by absence named
Yet I returned remembering our game
Time has past and it’s my still my move
I pause to think how to enter the groove
I cannot blame cold shoulders for my desertion
I still after time I held on to my devotion
And try to caress with words that charm
I try to take away the alerts and harm
And reach for times to reminisce
Use you as the tool my Muse gives bliss
You replace the widowers loss
As well as take place
of the Ex’s I’ve crossed
But in this outer world you remain
At least I hope that to regain
I don’t know what we are
Yet I know not insane
I could be your doll you be my game
And still resolve our lonely pain
While being one another's eternal flame
You cherish violence
Is it your way to settle scores?
You hate peace
Wreaking havoc is all you think about
Though your secrets are held close to your heart
An aspect of individuality promoting secrecy
With every act you inflict unbearable pain
Like a fire,
You consume anything on your path
To sate your insatiable hunger
Many hapless people you kill off
Property you destroy
Anyone standing on your path,
You mercilessly crush
Like a river,
You make blood to flow
You are an agent of pollution
The atmosphere is filled with the smell of death
You are heartless
For you love to besiege the weak
And turn their compound into a battlefield
Under your watch,
Many have been made homeless
Others have become orphans
Some are either widow
Or widowers
You are unperturbed
But your anger has to be sate
Is your heart made of rock?
You appear unremorseful
But proud of your actions
We have to speak
Since you are likely to knock on our doors
And infringe on our spaces
Squeezing every breath from our lungs
Our hate for you is so immense
Your strength has made you ignorant
An act likely to lead to your downfall!
Life is but a fleeting mist.
What is now, will soon be missed.
Seize the moment, say in words:
God’s greatest to you, was her.
Days of ordinary passing,
Too soon leave for nothing’s lasting.
Take the time to cherish her,
All widowers surely concur.
For when death’s door is finally closed,
No words or sonnets you’ve composed
Can reach the ears that once desired,
Your Love and words to lift; inspire.
Nothing in this world can bring
What you alone have offering.
Make the call, write the letter
Let her know you won’t forget her.
Death’s toll rings and she is gone
A vacuum fills and a fullness drawn.
While you can, express your heart
Before too soon, she will depart.
I understand now
why widows
and widowers
let themselves
wither away
crossing the bridge
to choose joy
is a most
treacherous
journey
AP: 1st place 2021
what do widowers feel each day
while waking up alone
what thoughts consume their minds
each night
obsessed with their love gone
i tell a truth not lightly heard
but truth it's nonetheless
there is a pain unworthy of
one's enemies confessed
there is a torture pure in pain
i'd curse on no one man
a daily readventure to
no soul would understand
albeit those who've felt this burn
I pray for them each one
protect them from this misery
in Jesus name the Son
Face up! Courage high. Up early? Great! Attitude fly!
Full of pep, vigour, vim.
In great shape, need no rest.
Jumping over peers
Who have lost their zest.
Lost their sight, their hearing, their lust, their sense of play.
Now for them is dead a nearing, throw me into this fray today.
Early mornings, unyielding, demanding,
I now do not do.
I loved early mornings, boo?
I do not remember…..oh!
Must have been long ago.
These early morning excursions
Ruthless now. I’m rather slow.
Served my purpose. Past my prime.
Don’t call me again before the crack of nine.
Senior picnic? Widowers about?
I will try one more day out.
Written 8-23-2019
Contest: Play with Me
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Why does death have to come?
Can we just stay alive?
Without having to test death?
You leave me with sores,
Deep within my soul,
Death, please have mercy on this generation-
Oh, please...
All we want is a stress-free life.
Leave us alone, you death,
To spend our entire life on earth.
You bring sorrows to our lives,
Without having solutions to our worries,
Oh, you death-
Can we just have a peaceful life?
You have taken all I know,
Including my kin, leaving me in the streets
Now I am somebody unknown;
I am so shocked by your cruelty.
You strike without knocking,
Happy when people mourn,
Excited when caskets are lowered into the ground.
Why do you have to invade our joyous moments?
leaving us orphaned, widows, widowers?
Have pity on the human race,
Oh, death, could you just take a leave,
Or a long holiday?
with these old hands i held you and cared for you ~ now i'm praying for you.
For best monoku old or new poetry contest
Sponsored By Chantelle Ann Cooke.
Written March 29th 2019
Picture number 2.
For Monoku Pick A Picture What Cha See #2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored By James Edward Lee Snr
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Sound of widowers voices all around.
Chilled to the bone, I make nary a sound.
My suit and tie are not keeping me warm.
Icy northern winds blowing in a storm,
I'm not feeling myself, out of the norm.
I feel my eyelids, the icicles form.
In the distance I hear taps being played.
Silent sobs emitted, my nerves are frayed.
Even in knee deep snow they knelt and prayed.
But there's nobody home, I am afraid.
I am not here, only my thoughts remain.
Taps is finished, such a solemn refrain.
Maybe it's me, am I going insane?
One mirror glance and I'd suffer disdain.
Someone has stolen my salt-pepper locks.
Moths have digested my Christmas wool socks.
Someday I will think outside of this box.
Wake me up if opportunity knocks.
Are there robins hopping my frozen ground?
Written 12/23/2017
Contest: Rhyme Time III
Host: Laura Loo
Fell out of a limousine
Drunk out of mind
Spoiled
Filthy rich
Child
In time
He loved
All his toys
Then a woman
Showed him other joys
Sweet, just close your eyes
On champagne dreams
Wearing butlers shined black laced shoes
Away they went
From here to the moon
In love, their passion heaven sent
Taking the train ride of ones life
Bubble baths, there is no more strife
Pleasures surround you everywhere
Magical is the feeling of loves truthful desires
Falling in, like two young doves
New York City bombed
Devastation lingers in the air
No more love stories
Only dead widows and widowers
As infants tears fall on rainy graves
Now I, Arthur
Alone
Cringe
Staring out my window
The Interval
I drank a city, the smells , the debts,
the clouds of shutting doors and shuttered
widows (and widowers)
their new TV’S, the dream drug
that takes away your mind,
your place:
some police look at you like your about
to die, or something like that
and I return to the interval ( a Beckett play ?)
I wait for the clouds and the
shuttered cast to pass by
Late evening, in the sunset
by the white gate,
and leaning on some other railings painted blue
I saw her yet again,
her eyes focused on the twilit meadow,
last time by the river,
she was one of the few that men marry and stay with
year after year after year, in love.
From out the shadows
I watched her watching the swallows
swooping in low flight, and wondered
where is my love again tonight.
A ring of daisies
entangled in her hair
and round her waist a rope of yellow buttercups,
how could I leave, where could I go
for in that dim-lit moment I wished to be in her,
to lose myself in her,
take up my widowers weeds and die in her.
Two forms, one soul
in the late evening sunset, by the white gate,
leaning on some other railings painted blue.
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