For Joe

Tuesday and almost ten

Thoughts form as wielded pen

Hovers surreal o'er hidden blank

So few things matter now

No time to wonder how

The coffee's gone

and still not dressed

This twisting sylph is not the best

As nothing twirls her serpent curls

and boredom takes a rest

What is this form iambic ghost

Or Just another of the host

Who haunt in gaunt and faded mind

So proud in shroud and still unkind

I rise in bitter sweetend sulk

as memories  meet to greet the bulk

of multiples of rued regret

The words so still not written yet

That fell from someones tongue so young

So long ago when he was young

That friend who stood as my best man

Smiled and said the world will end

On Tuesday

He died some eighteen years ago

I suspect but do not know

On Tuesday

Reviews

[fergul]

Gone, like all of us eventually, but at least not forgotten.

fergul

[emmajoy]

' I rise in bitter sweetend sulk - as memories meet to greet the bulk - of multiples of rued regret = The words so still not written yet - That fell from someones tongue so young - So long ago when he was young '

Happens that.. when looking back and realising what was never seen and never said might have been miraculous, exceptional. -more than precious. Affection, admiration, whatever.. remembers very keenly, and.. wonders. My review doesn't do justice to the subtle tragedy of your beautiful words.

[Donald Meikle]

He was our best man, with the same outlook on life as mine. Our contest with the navy was a winner

[emmajoy]

What a friend to have had and a heartful of memories to keep.

[Beccy]

'I rise in bitter sweetend sulk
as memories meet to greet the bulk
of multiples of rued regret
The words so still not written yet
That fell from someones tongue so young
So long ago when he was young.'

The whole poem is beautiful, the above lines in particular went straight to my heart. The words are now written and will remain forever as memories do.

Beccy.

[h d e rushin]

I too am also a us navy vet Donald. And there's something about the kinships and friendships you make
of people henceforth after you've been around so many people unlike yourself. And since I cannot
rhyme even if I try hard, I think that the 'lostartofit' shines best in the hands of those who know
not those, like me, who try to know.

This is a great testament to someone who you thought and think about quite often. You have
done him and his memory proud. Beautifully written..

dana

[Donald Meikle]

We met fresh out of Boot on train to Norman Oklahoma. Were together til I got out early.