A Poem by Tate Morgan

His liver like a lace doily alcohol pickled him thin He'd been turned down, all over town no one ever took him in


There was an old man, I once knew

Peaches was the name he used

He was the drunk, set on our trunk

his body old and abused

 Sharing his beer with an old horse

who caroused in the end stall

Each day by three, they'd walk by me

and stumble but never fall


His liver was a lace doily

alcohol pickled him thin

He'd been turned down, all over town

no one ever took him in

He drank his beer with ole Nellie

she could tip a bottle too

Swig and sway,  like Don Quixote

as they staggered, swirling, brew


We were headed for the races

this blustery afternoon

Each planned the trip, we had to ship

I knew we'd be leaving soon

From where we trained at the fairground

we carted them to the track

Where all would race, and take what place

each earned in front or in back


Peaches rode in back of the truck

so he could drink the whole way

My uncle said, he'd soon be dead

drinking had seen his decay

We sat apart from others there

he and I were best of pals

He'd tell me tales, of life’s travails

while I ogled all the gals


That day he shared a sordid tale

of pain he caused his own son

He had shouldered blame, bore the shame

for this thing that he had done

Back when he was just a young man

a pillar of support

He took his boy, his life’s great joy

to play their favorite sport


They went to a picnic that day

he had drank one too many

On the way, to watch his son play

of fears he hadn't any

His boy was riding in the back

not thinking they skipped the seat belt

He'd rolled his car, the door ajar

surprise was all he had felt


His boy was tossed out in a field

sweet clover of timothy

The child's light hair, seen lying there

 remembered so vividly

"I was a Veterinarian"

said Peaches to my surprise

"I went insane, called out in vain

but God never heard my cries"


"So now I ride where I belong

In back of my self-made bar

Hoping he, will come to take me

by tossing me from the car"

 Just then a tear fell from his cheek

the pain enveloped me too

Here cried a man, much deeper than

any of us ever knew


To see my books click on the pictures to take you to them



© 2014 Tate Morgan

Author's Note

Tate Morgan
Who can truly say that only they know the heart of another soul? The sad truth of this is that it is a true telling of an actual event.The people I met through the years engrained their stories in my mind. Where I wrote them down and stored them. All I met there were at odds with life. So I suppose judge not lest you be judged. With Peaches I realized his fascination with me was partly my youth and part my resemblance to the treasure he had lost. May he find peace in his afterlife so denied him in life.

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"Here cried a man, much deeper than
any of us ever knew" This has a wonderful message, it reminds me so much of Shakespeare's "The Comedy of Errors" where Adriana says (one of my favorite Shakesperian quotes"

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more would we ourselves complain

This man deeply lamented a horror from his past, and in consuming guilt, he consumed alcohol to assuage his inner torment- and others throughout the town would never bother to guess his reasons for being a drunk, it's easier and more fun to just mock him for his weaknesses. Society is a vicious thing. I really enjoyed reading this, Tate, it's very well written and such a strong piece. Glad I happened upon your writings tonight! Great work.

Posted 11 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


so many assumptions of responsibility ... and perhaps a stretch of empathy ..worse yet sympathy ... i took care of children broken by elder's use of drugs and alcohol .. even now it drains the blood from my face ... those elders walked while children were laid out ...paralyzed .. and dying ... from now to, at the worst, .. maybe 15 yrs later ... and that dad ..that mom ...that uncle, aunt or cousin ... all dropped off .. stopped coming to visit their overburden of guilt ... now i don't know Peaches .. nor his circumstance .. i do know drunks and addicts that languish in poor poor solitary places ... but they don't drive (no vehicle) .. they stagger .. they haven't killed another ..(only self)... way too slowly ... to those i gladly set a place at the table ... sure that Peaches never meant harm .. but you may not get behind the wheel in a stupid state of mind ... love you bro ..this is a fantastic poem that brings up subjects and real life in a rainbow of ways to see, think and feel

Posted 7 Years Ago

Einstein Noodle

7 Years Ago

I hear you sir! Myself as well many times and so many things for me could have gone real bad! ... read more
Tate Morgan

7 Years Ago

I saw in Peaches the wages of you. As bAD DECISIONS LEAD TO BAD OUTCOMES. One cant see these things .. read more
Einstein Noodle

7 Years Ago

so true ..........
The poets, writers, and lyricist of the world are the story keepers--the bards able to carry on the stories of the past, and perhaps, immortalize those that society never really knew. Not a bad calling, to be able to tell their stories, and you do so with such attention to the framework you set down.
One of my favorite things about this beyond the story is the framework. Your rhyme scheme and meter feel so natural that it's more like free verse where you hear an occasional rhyme. In my opinion, that is hard to achieve in tightly structured poetry, but you did that here easily. I think that is an important part of this piece because it lets the story shine rather than the form.

Posted 7 Years Ago

Tate Morgan

7 Years Ago

JAYCEE thank you I do work very hard on them
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This piece is brimming over with heart and emotion.

Posted 9 Years Ago

Tate Morgan

9 Years Ago

Thank you Michael I had quite a time writing this oene
Another amazing poem tate Keep up the great work and keep them coming

Posted 9 Years Ago


I drowned in your accomomplished words.

You mesmerize me by your talent but you worry me.

You bear too much pain.

Talk by private mail if you will. An offer and not an obligation,


Posted 10 Years Ago

Excellent; the moral, the storytelling and of course the scheme of rhyme. I can see him astride, the back of pick-up truck through heatwave shimmers rising off that ole dusty road of life.

Posted 10 Years Ago

I, too, have personal acquaintance with people who have allowed the tragedies of their past to drive them over the brink, to attempt self-slaughter in gradual rather than a sudden manner. I wish I could be more compassionate with this fellow's life choices, but alas, I cannot, for I know too well the pain he continues to inflict on those who would love him, who would heal him, given the opportunity he routinely denies them. It has been pointed out that suicide, irrespective of how swiftly or gradually, is the consummate act of cowardice and selfishness.
All that notwithstanding, you have once again dealt most courageously and expertly with the Undefineables housed within the hearts of us all. Beautiful work!

Posted 10 Years Ago

Coming to this and any other poem of yours after so many have left their reviews doesn't afford me an interpretation that hasn't already been discussed but... This is a fine poem and one that certainly tugs at the heart. It's a tale of one whose character develops through each line and leaves us with tears in the end.

Life can be so cruel and unjust to individuals that they search for escape in any way that's available even to their own detriment. Perhaps the origins of Peach's drinking began with the terrible loss of his son? Perhaps not? Either way, your poem is a tribute to someone who lived with a burden not many of us could shoulder.

Through your writing, his spirit can live and be recognized as well as admired. The song from MR. Taylor is a fine one and fits the tone of the poem so well. Good writing Tate.

Posted 10 Years Ago

Holy mackrel, Tate. This is incredible. I'm not just saying that. It really is. I was actually upset after reading this. Really, really moving. It's writing like this that makes me realize the purpose of words on a page.
The boy was tossed out in a field
sweet clover of timothy
That is one of the most disturbingly beautiful images I've read in a while.
Really well done, Tate

Posted 10 Years Ago

Been gone for a while, back now...
and found this poem moving ... thanks for sharing.
Good stuff.


Posted 10 Years Ago

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78 Reviews
Shelved in 4 Libraries
Added on August 24, 2012
Last Updated on December 6, 2014
Tags: poetry, romance, love, Life, Sad, adventure, mystery, pain, poem, story, death, fantasy, fiction, heart, racing, winning, losing


Tate Morgan
Tate Morgan

Marion , OH

Available from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..

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