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Posted by: Aphrodite Oct 2 09, 07:50

You lie there, solid and firm,
as onlookers gawk and comment
on how good you turned out.

They did such a good job, they whisper,
like white plaster thrown on hard walls,
you just take it.

How you love to hold hands, but not your own,
the Rosary Beads d r a p e loosely cross
spindly fingers, like drops from tears cried dry.

In the bed you made, you lie cold,
a hard box unlike the feathery soft
mattress you once fell into.

Consumed by a lifelong toxic cloud,
sucking in, you lie ravaged and still.

Oh, but for just one more breath of clean air.

Posted by: Cleo_Serapis Oct 6 09, 09:03

Lindi,

This is so poignant on many levels. I'm soooo sorry that "the smoking life" consumed your father - but this is a spot-on expression of the coffin, i.e. bed he made - and the wish to have just one more breath of 'clean air'.

This is one to make one think!!!

HUGS
~Cleo

Posted by: Aphrodite Oct 8 09, 07:01

Hi Lori,

It is nice to be back! I have many poems about my Dad and how much I love and miss him. This one expresses my sadness and anger, that because of his addiction to cigarettes, I was robbed precious time with him.

I appreciate your comments very much!

Happy Autumn.

Posted by: Cleo_Serapis Oct 8 09, 07:07

Happy Autumn to you too Lindi!

HUGS
~Cleo

Posted by: Aphrodite Oct 9 09, 09:37

Thanks, Lori!

Posted by: Merlin Nov 4 09, 00:50

Hello Aphro,

Addictions, no matter which one, are difficult creatures.
I have friends and acquaintances who succumbed to alcohol, and accepting that takes a bit of doing sometimes.

Best

Merlin

Posted by: Aphrodite Nov 26 09, 19:49

Hi Merlin,

Thanks for commenting on my poem. It is very hard to watch someone you love fade away.
I am sorry for your experience with this.

Happy holidays to you.

Lindi