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LD Goodwin Aug 2019
Dad in a nursing home
Dad is free
Free from living
Free from dying
Dying, not alone
Dying free
Free to be
Free at peace
Peace and safe
Peace at last
Last home
Last days
Days and nights
Days are few
Few as friends
Few as time
Time won't stop
Time speeds up
Up at 6
Up and moving
Moving bowels
Moving
Chores don't stop
Chores keep strength
Strength to move
Strength to prove
Prove you can
Prove you're a man
Man must live
Man must die
Die someway
Die someday
Someday will come
Someday Sister calls
Calls about Dad
Calls on the phone
Phone calls me
Phone from Dad
Dad eats oatmeal
Dad plays poker
Poker is fun
Poker is life
Life is fleeting
Life is dying
Dying alone
Dying at home
Home....
Dying....
LD Goodwin Oct 2017
Do I escape here
To my cave
My therapist
My priest
An ear
Does anyone hear
Listen
Care

Is it just minutia
words that get moved around the page
like dust bunnies swirling in the noonday sun
why do I want you to know what goes on in here
inside this cerebral mass
why do I want you to witness the excising of my existence
the vomiting
purging
lancing of these boils
the expressing of **** glands
emptying the dark places
only to fill them up again

I have always wanted to write down my feelings
what I see......emphasis on ā€œIā€
I always have felt that I see it differently than you
Not egotistically speaking,
but that I see it the way this mass of cells called Larry sees it

Hello
It is me in here
The one speaking to you now
And if you are reading this
Thank you for listening
I arose early......this is what you get.
LD Goodwin Oct 2017
Dad is home
Dad is old
Old and living
Old and dying
Dying alone
Dying free
Free to be
Free at peace
Peace is work
Peace is hard
Hard to walk
Hard to hear
Hear the TV
Hear the groans
Groans of pain
Groans of time
Time won't stop
Time speeds up
Up at 6
Up and moving
Moving bowels
Moving chores
Chores don't stop
Chores keep strength
Strength to move
Strength to prove
Prove you can
Prove you're a man
Man must live
Man must die
Die someway
Die someday
Someday will come
Someday Sister calls
Calls about Dad
Calls on the phone
Phone calls me
Phone from Dad
Dad eats oatmeal
Dad plays poker
Poker is fun
Poker is life
Life is fleeting
Life is dying
Dying alone
Dying at home
Home....
Dying....
*My Father will soon be 99 years old. He lives in his home and for the most part takes care of himself. He cooks, cleans, shops, does his chores, and plays poker.*
LD Goodwin Feb 2017
I get lost in you
your dreams imbue
my mind
like flower and sun
we become as one
entwined
they ne'er cease to give
in my heart they live
divine
LD Goodwin Feb 2017
I will not bend, my heart is true
and I will not kowtow to you
I do not fear your will on me
I am the might of one you see

I'm not alone nor have I been
truth holds us fast from your dark sin
and so wave not your flag at thee
I am the might of one you see

So turn your words around and 'round
till down is up and up is down
mine eye will not its gaze be free
I am the might of one you see

a day will come our voice will roar
your thrown will fall, your voice no more
unmasked and all alone you'll be
I am the might of one you see
*Kyrielle originated from troubadour poetry, and is often religious. (Not this one).
Typically written in quatrains with rhyming couplets... in this pattern... aabB ccbB ddbB eebB etc. Typically written in iambic tetrameter.*
LD Goodwin Feb 2017
a longing for you
over took my pen tonight
for your voice was the night wind

and then with closed eyes
and full heart you came to me
your soft touch from miles away
Thank you R for keeping me alive.......

*A Sedoka, pair of Katauta as a single poem, may address the same subject from differing perspectives. A Katauta is an unrhymed three-line poem the following syllable counts: 5/7/7.*
LD Goodwin Feb 2017
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
"The New Colossus" is a sonnet that American poet Emma Lazarus (1849ā€“1887) wrote in 1883 to raise money for the construction of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.[2] In 1903, the poem was engraved on a bronze plaque and mounted inside the pedestal's lower level.
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