one short poem for rick

 

sometimes rick and i would have breakfast

at sambo's while sandy and martha slept in

 

a little time for male-bonding. he said, 

over eggs and bacon, i'm not an asshole,

 

this because he had come back from

vietnam and my ilk were spitting on his ilk.

 

The fact that he was a thief added

richness to our friendship, a certain flare

 

to our otherwise ordinary selves. 

the shrapnel scar on his shoulder added

 

a dimension of reality to my yet-to-be reality,

i had yet to experience orders, commands.

 

that was a long time ago. he's old or dead,

i'm on my way. a poem for rick, in memory.

 

 

 

 





Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 195 times
Written on 2019-07-23 at 15:24

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MetaPoetics The PoetBay support member heart!
A heartfelt tribute to Rick. I like that the couplet-form works really well. Conveys the nostalgia.
2019-07-25


Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Beautiful Wonderful

I love it so much
2019-07-25



Memories...nice poem Jim!
2019-07-24



A vivid and sinewy reminiscence, a plainspoken song that stays with us and invites us back again. Well done.
2019-07-24


Marie Cadavieco The PoetBay support member heart!
I'll raise a glass for Rick! I liked this, the early breakfast together, the sights and experiences he had were alien as yet to you, but your friendship created a life-memory for you. Rick must have been quite a Guy. A certain melancholy in the kart stanza, thinking of the closeness of that final curtain...

I do love your memories, so easy to read, so simply yet powerfully expressed. I feel Rick is someone I could recognise, a lovable rogue. Everyone should know a Rick.

- Marie
2019-07-23