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Jim Hirtle Poem
I long to—
Walk one more time
To where the land ends, and the ocean begins
To listen expectantly for the sounds of infant waves
Grasping layers of golden sand
I long to—
Hear the fat gulls with white bellies
And ebony eyes
Floating on invisible wires
Calling for the savory morsels
Hidden inside the curled fingers of an old man
I long to—
Stand beneath the tangerine sky
Lazily descending into the cradle of the sea
Vacating heaven for the snowy celestial sphere
Hung upon Vincent’s starry canvas
Ten thousand lights scattered forever
I long to—
Be embraced by the tenebrous sea
Her loneliness engulfing me like lovers of yesterday
I long to—
Gaze beyond the past wrapped in sorrow
The years of trudging through cheerless mire
Searching for reasons without answers
Answers without questions
I long to—
Remember only moments worth remembering
A twirling montage of love and hope
And dreams
Of a time when two became one
Hearts pulsing in harmony
Minds ascending to tidal floods of ecstasy
I long to—
See your face
To walk hand in hand
To where the land ends and the ocean begins
I long to—
Do it all again
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
I read my obituary
Accolades run afoul to lighten the souls of the living
Trite clichés, forgotten kin, melodic tributes
Boring and meaningless
Upon a granite stone etched for an eternity
I was but a ‘A faithful husband,’
‘A good father,’
And ‘Never Forgotten’
They have it all wrong
If they had read my sonnets
Mystical offspring scribbled on napkins
Consuming stale coffee in late night diners lit by neon lights
They would have known
Had they paid heed to my limericks
Nonsensical rhymes of fairytale fantasies
And polka-dotted panties created to amuse only me
They would have known
Had they inhaled my free verse
Painstaking hours spent
Creating worlds of exquisite harmony
Carrying the reader on endless voyages
Guided by the inspired lyricist through emerald forests
Royal seas, white-capped mountains
And never-ending dreams
They would have known
Had they met my only mistress
One called Haiku
A quiet damsel
Her beauty lies in brevity and endless seasons
They would have known
More than a husband
More than a father
More than forgotten
I am a poet
I read my obituary
I should have known
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2021
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Jim Hirtle Poem
You should come be with me
Stand out on the back porch
Gaze up at the night sky
Count the stars with me
Hundreds, no thousands of sparkling lights
Diamonds cast on Vincent’s canvas
From inside
The sounds of Bruno, the one from the sky
Singing a song for lovers
You should come be with me
I will hold against my heart
We will dance under the diamond sky
Creating warmth greater than Winter’s chill
You should come be with me
Until night grows into day
And the skies declare what’s beyond the stars
An endless Heaven of hopes and dreams
And then I remember
You are already there
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
“Did you dream of me?”
She asks, opening her emerald eyes to the morning’s bright sun
“Yes, I did” I lie
I sleep little these days
“Was I beautiful?”
“You still are,” I tell her, bending to kiss her brow
“Pink lies,” she smiles
Across the room, stands her dresser
Covered with cards
Get-Well cards
Nice cards
Funny cards
God loves you cards
Pink cards
Hallmark loves Alzheimer patients
She keeps them all
Never throwing them away
To her, they are new everyday
“You are beautiful,” I whisper
Kissing her cheek
“What did you dream about?” she asks
“It was about you,” I tell her
“Was I beautiful?” she asks
“Very” I say
“Pink lies,” she smiles
The sun falls into yesterday
A nightbird cries
“Did you dream about me?” she whispers
Her eyes hidden behind thin paper
“Yes,” a tear warms my cheek
“Was I beautiful?”
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
I can’t do this today
Peering through dirty windows at citizens disappearing
Behind shells made of unconvincing paper
Masking unspoken fears, unshaven faces
Unrealized hope
As I sip on day old coffee
Listening to church bells ring meaningless summons
And politicians competing to weave the biggest lies
As the forgotten ones stand in lines separated by social space
To acquire food with borrowed money on borrowed time
From vendors looted the night before
Under the glow of torched cars, flaming buildings, and burnt down lives that don’t matter
Streets filled with hate for brothers and sisters
Whose skin is darker, whiter, different
I can’t do this again
Sitting hour after hour
Watching, waiting
Alone
Behind broken memories
Wondering where you are
Everywhere I look
You are not there
I can’t do this
alone
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2021
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Jim Hirtle Poem
I heard…
he was higher than the starry sky he painted
a genius’ stroke with a sable red brush
dipped in white opium dust
of pain hidden from the mirror’s occupant
agony twisted darker than the starry canvas
concealed behind glistening constellations of doubt
to live or die
the artist painted Vincent’s Sky
I know…
the piercing pain of abandoned nights
allegations echoing the deeds of a sinner
bearing track marks on rawboned arms
chained to opium’s ether
blinding sodium vapor stars
broken asphalt lulling my dreams
to live or die
straining to enter
Vincent’s Sky
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2021
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Jim Hirtle Poem
Stony gray clouds of Winter’s night
Spurning Spring’s arrival
Snaring hearts in the darkness of hibernal chasms
Stubbornly rejecting wretched souls a rival’s kiss
Seasons of Doubt lasting beyond hope
Swiftly shackling yearnings of youth
Softly whispering slanderous words—
Surely all is hopeless
Steadily sinking toxic barbs
Surrender your foolish prayers
Serenades the Shallow Liar
Shall I lurk endlessly in my secret place
Surrounded by ashen walls of uncertainty
Stumbling blindly through dubious grime
Snagged by roaring reticence
Silently anticipating a response yet to come
Shall you withhold your words until I succumb
Submitting to bristled taunts
Subliminal sneers of unseen foes
Sauntering scoffs scarring my soul
Should I stand from upon bended knee
Surrendering my incessant pleas
Seeing with unveiled eyes at last
Sensing with tingling nerves the
Silence of my God of past
Spurning the end of
Seasons of Doubt
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
Thoughts & Prayers
Sometimes—
It is all you have
Thoughts
Sometimes—
It is all you can do
Pray
Tonight, my thoughts are of you
Of your thoughts
Of what they must be
Of how you want
To close your eyes
To forget
To not talk
To not think
To not question
Or understand
To turn back time
To spend one more—
Day
Minute
Moment
With him
With her
To not hear
One more time
One more god...damn time
My thoughts and prayers
Are with
You
Sometimes
It is all I can give
Thoughts
Sometimes
It is all we can do
Pray
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
You numb my eyes
From tippity-top
To eight count plies
Rhythmic grooves
Crossing hard waxed floors
Bouncing orange orbs denied
Double bass pounding, pounding
In my ears
Heart
Pride
Moving like soft water
Untethered sass
Yesterday’s child
Today a Dancer
Numbing eyes
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2022
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Jim Hirtle Poem
I Don’t Feel Well
[Maybe it's COVID]
"I don’t feel well"
Simple words once grumbled without thought
Met with empathetic nods, meaningless replies
Most often quickly forgotten by those with ears
Be they your words or mine
It makes no difference
No Big Deal
Don't be a wimp
Get better, move on
Merely a passing moment
Credit seasons that roll and pollens that flitter
Until now…
"I don’t feel well"
What if it is COVID?
Corona? H1N1?
AKA the Endless Flu of 2020
Fauci's Pinnacle...
What if I have it?
Or you?
Don’t come too close
I don’t want to die
Or you
You are looking pretty bad
Don’t come too near
Six foot distance or six foot deep
Your choice
"I don’t feel well"
Will it ever just be
Under the weather
A little sniffly
Can it just be
Something in the air
Feeling a bit pukey
No Big Deal
Forgotten before noon
No
Not any more…
This morning, I stand before the mirror
It is still dark outside
I can’t sleep
It could be COVID
Couldn't it?
My eyes are rimmed red
My throat like island sand
It must be…
I can’t say it
"I don’t feel well"
Copyright © Jim Hirtle | Year Posted 2021
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