Thursday, August 28, 2014

For The Old Man




“If it doesn’t come bursting out of you
In spite of everything
Don’t do it.”   Charles Bukowski

He spoke of a bluebird
He had inside
How he” poured whiskey on him
And inhaled cigarette smoke”.

I tried to drown mine
Its song too painful
To hear, I choked it with
Swallowed tears and smoke

Still it didn’t die
Worn on thin sleeves
Always feeling
Pushing, prodding me to sing

I couldn’t choke down the song
Life bled it from me
Year after year

The year my mother went crazy
The year my father died

The year love showed me
How cruel it could be

Life teaches the song
Blank pages filled with its notes

There is a harmony to the chaos
It’s called breathing.

10 comments:

  1. great last stanza...
    and sometimes breathing is a song...
    cause life is not the best teacher
    at times.

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    1. Thank you Brian and I agree, life is not always the best teacher.

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  2. I love Charles Bukowski and you have done an amazing job!

    I can't remember if I sent you a link to my new prompt site (it would be such an honor to have you)
    http://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/

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    1. Thank you. I would love to take part in your new prompt site.

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  3. Such a wonderful piece Lisa--it makes me want to cry and breathe and nod in agreement--so much here!!

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  4. I love the ending, there is strength and quiet acceptance of moving forward despite the challenges ~ A lovely write Lisa ~

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    1. Thank you Grace. I have always enjoyed hearing from you.

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  5. Heartbreaking and real Lisa. Life can definitely put us through the school of hard knocks. Beautifully writ.

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    1. Thank you Jennifer, so nice to be back. I have missed hearing from you as well as reading your wonderful poetry.

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