Peaches

Peaches

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




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© 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.




Reviews

with a lot of depth .. wonderful !

Posted 11 Years Ago


sad story, but told very well.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Sad story. I had trouble with the flow in some parts, but my suggestions will probably mess up your syllable count. Here's where i stumbled- Third stanza-reads better to me as,...we'd earned in front or back...
Fourth stanza-...he and I were the best of buds
Fifth stanza-...he had drunk one too many and ...not wearing his seat belt...
Just my thoughts.
As always,you tell the story well.

Posted 11 Years Ago


I live for the story so much more the better when they are weighted with truth.you clip our hearts well in the end .

Posted 11 Years Ago


Just read this one aloud to my father, who I am trying to get to appreciate poetry. I knew that he would like your type of verse and understand it much more than mine and he did. Bravo from me and dad Tate. Well done! What a sad message you have penned but such truth. XX

Posted 11 Years Ago


sad but beautiful write ...i love it ...good work

Posted 11 Years Ago


Well Tate, you're really coming along with this meter. It certainly lends itself well to narrative poetry, much like the old ballads. I personally never listen to the music, though, I find it distracting, just as I never listen to music while writing. Some do, some don't, I can only concentrate on one thing at a time.

Posted 11 Years Ago


0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Very sad. But some people are their own destruction.

The song is nice, but I like Gordon Lightfoot's recording better.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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5209 Views
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

Author

Tate Morgan
Tate Morgan

Marion , OH



About
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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