David Fairley
he’s 83
and walks
18-holes
3 days a week
at the top of the tee
in Charlotte
he doesn’t hit ‘em
long
but hits ‘em
straight
he got his grip
from Hogan
and got his short game
by talent
and time
TL
Poetry
David Fairley
he’s 83
and walks
18-holes
3 days a week
at the top of the tee
in Charlotte
he doesn’t hit ‘em
long
but hits ‘em
straight
he got his grip
from Hogan
and got his short game
by talent
and time
TL
Tommy Morrissey
the
power
of
belief
TL
“Pee Wee” Martin
last night
flipping channels
saw a man
jump out
of an airplane
like he did
when he was
young
in wartime
today he’s 99
with his mind
and body intact
but you could tell
in the segment
how his heart
got damaged
a long, long time ago
when he came home
breathing
but his buddies
didn’t
TL
“What is …”
lately been
watching Jeopardy
reruns
that make ‘ya think
Trebeck’s still here
it’s interesting how a game show
on television
can connect so many people
round the world
he seemed to understand
how people think
and how emotions play a factor
in performance
he liked putting people at ease
with a joke
a kind word
a look of reassurance
there’s a sense
he would’ve been great
at anything
he had a hand in
‘cause the person he was
was the person
he was
TL
Councilwoman Patsy Jones
never knew
she was once
an English teacher
but makes sense now
looking back
she read everything
that ever came across her desk
she was a close reader
always prepared
for the first and third Tuesday
of the month
maybe overprepared at times
she held herself to a high standard
and fought hard for what she believed in
she never forgot why she was there
she was proud to serve
on the city council
proud she had a part in moving the city forward
from the minor to the major decisions
she helped shape the city she loves
she was tough when she had to be
and didn’t budge if she believed it
to be unfair or unjust or undercut
and she didn’t care if so-and-so didn’t like it much
‘cause she wasn’t there for them
she was representing those who never attend city council meetings
but are affected just the same by what’s in those ordinances and resolutions and such
she understood that
she understood who she was working for
and didn’t take it for granted
as Frost once wrote:
“and that has made all the difference …”
TL
And Everything In-Between
there’s a lady
sitting in the sand
trembling
trying to breathe
in and out
a Tsunami hit her hard
and knocked her backwards
and she can’t find her husband
anywhere
and all his clothes
are floating in the sea
his socks and shoes
just went by
all the papers
the important papers
are scattered
like ash
she reaches for the photographs
the two of them smiling in a frame
wearing silly hats
she can still hear his laugh
feel his touch
his arm around her
his hand in hers
how can she sleep
without him
there
he was always there
taking care of things
taking care of her
how can she sit at the table
next to an empty chair
they talked about everything
and nothing
they already bought the ticket
he must just be away
he’ll be back in the morning
by next week
he’ll be home for Thanksgiving
he wouldn’t miss Christmas
all this wet wrapping paper
these empty boxes
ribbons washed up
like seaweed
he promised he’d never leave her
why is it so cold
summer was just here
why does it keep raining
and raining
where are the roses
he’s out buying roses
there were none in the market
so he went out searching
for flowers
he’s just in the meadow
picking flowers for you
so he can give them to you
when he sees you
again
but you’ll have to wait awhile
‘cause you gotta use your ticket
you can’t waste your ticket
you can’t put it in a drawer
it’s redeemable
go where it’s warm
and dry
and pleasant people
like that place
with the sunsets
and the music
go there
TL
Thomas Sean Connery
my dad loved
movies
so
he appreciated
a great story
told
his favorite one
he shared with me
one day
“The Hunt for Red October”
must have reminded him
of his old Navy days
sailing away on some distant shore
somewhere
he’s missed so many marvelous movies
so many great ones
over time
but he did get to see
one of the greatest movies
ever made
starring one of the greatest actors
that ever was
(August 25, 1930 – October 31, 2020)
TL
Fixed Point
under the lid
of eyes
the clouds go by
in the dark
and the grand old clock
ticks back tears
and drops them in the well
and the flowers float up
like a balloon
lifting laughter off the page
taking notes
for empty chapters
12 numbers on a round face
clockwise
and counterclockwise
time travels
through a portal
of trees
climbing up to the top
to see what it sees
and then scaling back
to touch
the ground
a grain of sand
before it falls
like a flake of snow
behind the cloud
running from the sun
it disappears
like rain
falling asleep in the sea
becoming more
or less
it rolls in waves
turning over sand
changing the shoreline
it reaches back
and springs forward
lifting and letting go
the new and the old
mapped in roman numerals
that can’t tell
time
but rather feeling
it felt
the mortal moment
of a single second
that counts
what cannot be counted
subtracted or divided
it adds up
the sum of all things
made known
to the unknown
TL
Dear Dad,
I can hear
an ambulance
before I ever see it
coming
as I sit there
waiting
for the distant cry
to subside
the night falls
dark
full of flashing lights
flying down the road
but I never see where
they go
they just keep flashing
on and off
like they never gave up
trying …
to save you
TL
The Seal of the Sun
I walk
under emeralds
looking up at chandeliers
swaying in the wind
all aglow
high overhead
these dripping jewels
I wear
TL
Keep Driving
been going
through rooms
with a minimal mindset
not quite there yet
and might never be
but I try anyway
and it ain’t easy
let me tell ‘ya
it ain’t easy
it’s like losing weight
once you do
you gotta maintain it
for life
getting rid of stuff
is like yo yo dieting
losing the weight and then packing it back on
what good is it
if I carry stuff out
and end up replacing it
and that’s what I tend to do
over time
I clear things out
and then clutter it back up
I’m past the denial stage
and the acceptance stage
think I’m now in the
all gotta go stage
and stay gone
so, I made a lot of progress yesterday
then woke up this morning
and passed a yard sale
laughing to myself
I love yard sales
and they love me
and I wanted to stop
and jest take a little peek
like a person trying to quit smoking
jest a little puff
but I kept on going
moving past it
I got enough to deal with
as it is
don’t need no more
stuff
TL
Tennessee
the ridge of mountains
disappeared
in the smoke
and reminded me
of a window seat in a plane
looking down
at the covering of clouds
hiding the earth
below
there’s a relief in things
that remain
nature has a way
of telling us
it’ll be ok
no matter what
happens or doesn’t happen
the rivers will run full
catching leaves and rays
and the eye
of a passerby
TL
The Opera of James Hurst
life is
a strange bird
indeed
never knowing where
it might land
The Scarlet Ibis
fell through the cracks
of my youth
and decades later
might have missed it
still
but it landed like a feather
in my daughter’s hands
and she read it aloud to me
the day it was read aloud to her
we parked in a parking lot
after school
and I sat there staring out the windshield
not seeing the traffic go by
I saw only Doodle
could see him as clear
as a day
that was …
and is
no more
TL
John Daly
at 54
Daly ain’t afraid
to die
never knew much
about him
other than his penchant
for wild looking pants
but saw an interview online
he interviews well
saw he wrote a book
curious
so looked it up
and bought it online
was somewhere in the middle
pages
when heard about his current cancer
being cut out
and how he’s dealing
with it
just a handful of pages left
now to read
and I don’t want it to end
he’s made me laugh so hard
and cry so good
he’s about as real as they come
cusses like a sailor
smokes like a weed
drank ‘til he was drained
an eye for the ladies
enjoys excess to the extreme
falls in love easily
as he forgives
can size up a room
and find the broken heart
he doesn’t kick the down and out
on the street
or walk on by oblivious
he sees them where they are
and lifts them …
yeah, I’m a fan
for life
and it ain’t got nothing to do
with golf
you’re like a real live Rocky
Yo, Daly …
keep those hands up
keep those feet moving
keep that heart
that Lion’s heart
beating strong
stay outta the corner
and in the ring
TL
When the Fog Lifts
a little bird
of blue
holds the line
against the cold
wind
bobbing up and down
in waves
like a sailboat in the sea
looks down at the grass
still green for now
the turning of blades
the fall of leaves
puddles of glass
soon it’ll be hard
to find food
and shelter
and warmth
where will it go
when the rains come
crashing
and the trees in their tray
stand frozen
like sticks in slab
will it roam the sky
looking for the sun
and wake up one morning
in the stillness of a Sunday
and find it green
once more
TL
Chosen
when he got
there
the place was in ruins
everything was new
when he was a child
but his eyes had seen
too much turn
over and over and over …
and now it seared him
to open them
he couldn’t sleep
even when he slept
all the ruined lives
that never turned round
ending in dead-ends
a ring never worn
innocence lost
his eyes hurt
from the ocean of tears
and the question
of why
he had lived too long
100 years in the middle
of a road
where the grass never grows
he longed for green pastures
and the trees of his youth
and the feeling of red apples
and it was the first time
since he was a little boy
that he could open his eyes wide
and dry
and it wasn’t dark
his body was bathed in the light
and he could see the sea shining
in the distance …
he felt weightless
as if he could fly
like a bird
like a sparrow
…
TL
Journalist Julio Valdivia
journalism
at its noble best
seeks ever only
the truth
digging in the dark
at the lonely hour
whilst the unencumbered sleep
sound in their beds
sacrifices are met and made
for there are stories
out there
that must be told
that have to be told
and certain ones
nobody nowhere wants to write …
but they have to
not for themselves
or the outlet
but for a global society
that would otherwise never know
the truth
we need truth seekers in the world
to silence them is harmful
to us all
the killing of journalists
is a shameful thing
to discard their tortured body
by the railroad tracks
their head chopped off
is something else
altogether
TL
“Mrs. Satterthwaite says
stolen plants always grow,
I stole some ‘Honesty’ yesterday,
it was to be burnt
in a heap of garden refuse!
I have had something
out of nearly every garden
in the village”
– Beatrix Potter
Endure
in the UK
there’s a guy
named
Alex Lewis
and if it weren’t for
Real Stories
making a documentary
on his life
people the world over
would never know
his story
the story of his life
and what it taught him
about himself
and those around him
he did not set out to be a teacher
no lofty degrees
or certifications
or such
and yet he is
a life instructor
for sure
TL
At Rest
following a line
of leaves
down a dusty lane
that turns around
the shoulder
and opens
at the bend
meadowland
like waves of wheat
that wash
against the sand
erasing all the steps
that trod
in puddles over time
wild are the flowers
that broke open
up the hill
setting in the sun
folding under moons
no one sees
the petals drop
then the wind
TL