Kevan Fuchs died today in his sleep
In a similar way as his father of one
And actually, also my father did too
Of those bitter, big cancer scourges
Which always come in unexpected
In this short enough life, a bit early
I've known him ever since first, when
We were knee high to Dad's shotgun
Throughout our small neighborhood
We would all roam to see and look
For ***** toads and such other fun
Without any known end in our sights
We often, came all together, at once
In his parent's, little Clovis back yard
In the under ground, in our deep dug
Wild little clubhouse of our new pride
Approved by our jealous Dad's stare
Made all by ourselves, with great care
Eight by eight, with three feet of deep
Shagged carpet floors, walls around
And places to hide stuff with those
**** magazines we wished to remain
Unseen by our parents, although they
Surely lived through similar wild times
Black lights , fluorescent mod posters
Fans to cool, while there in the deep
Kept the place comfy, from several
Hot summers in New Mexico's heat
Staying nights over, in conspiracy we
Came colluding, while hoping no fame
This place was our place, of known
Refuge from all of the big crazy, with
Frightening world still yet to come
Giving us our youngest freedoms
And also so much being in trouble
As kinda neighborhood hoodlums
Far up his Dad's, tall, two-way radio tower
One of us in care would climb
With binoculars to see the dark night
With our pair of walkie talkies held
Warn the others, carousing around
Of any plight, in appearing headlights
Kevan's brother, still alive, Keith
My other brother by another, Buddy
Also at first, a weird guy, named Chris
One other member, as second cousin
Who actually, was my very first kiss
When it was hard to aim, lips to miss
All bound as one, by made up signs
And part of something called PSO
Which, if you don't know well, what it
Truly means, then you were definitely
Not a part of the so very high bliss
Which we suffered through so often
Kevan's true nature is clearly proven
Finally, most completely, at his end
In the nature of his wonderful loving
All his family, who also so loved him
And all those other parties to trouble
Who also so loved, really all of him
© 2017 Jim Davis
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
this poem has no title
for it to lean on
so there is no telling
the direction it goes
no title to hinder
or hold it back
all of its meaning
is in all that it says
this poem has no title
to hold it in place
it can only rely
on the rhymes that it makes
whether they're good
or whether they're bad
this poem has no title
to hold its hand
this poem has no title
to weigh it down
which forces a read
to find what it's about
and what it's about
you may not find
until you have reached
the very last line
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
There’s not much left
Post spending spree
I have spent so many
dollars/hours/hearts
finally broke, i guess
I’ll cut my spending in half
Can’t half a soul
Can’t half a heart
Halfway heartless, I’ve been called
So
walk the park we lied in / in the city that you’ll die in
But not me.
I’m going North
to find the right trees
I was barking up the wrong one
All along.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
So I will walk these empty streets
This isn’t home, never will be
Thank goodness for that
I went to your house tonight
and cried at you
Then I left again
It would have been nice
if you hadn’t left
telling me to when
I was in front of you
But nah
So I will walk these empty streets
I will see everything
That your eyes do
And I will craft a newfound hatred
for all I’ve left behind
Tonight I’m crawling, high in the clouds
You could have just
Let me down easy
But no.
So I will toss in this boy’s sheets
and kiss lips that aren’t yours
I guess this is goodbye, my love
I hope she’s what you’re looking for.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC