Saturday, August 27, 2011


Author's Note: For The Lightning and the Lightning Bug's Dare to Share link up this weekend, the theme is "Loss." I wrote the poem below a few years ago, inspired by the Dave Mattews' song "Gravedigger." 

Dora Leigh Rex
Born 1948 on a Sunday in July
Was a terror from birth
Causing complications wherever she tread
The day she died
Was a relief to her surviving three sons:
Jimmy, Lewis, and Al
A Tuesday in February at 51
From complications due to too much corn whiskey
And fried chicken and not enough reasons to live
Her services took place the following Friday
To an empty house

Emanuel Sanders III
Manny to his friends
A sight for sore eyes born on the fifth of February
In 1976 to Mr. Sanders and his whore
A Madam from Queens with beautiful eyes
And a killer smile passed along to her baby boy
Manny to his friends
A joy to all
Died at 3:00 a.m. last Wednesday
A shame, a down and dirty shame
About the Cancer that ate away
Until Manny wasn’t Manny anymore

Baby Girl
With her soft blonde curls
Born and died within minutes
Of her short sweet life
Too much inside to take
Her mom didn’t care, not a mom at all
Just a victim of the times
Bleeding her booze and snorting her cocaine
Hating her life and that man who knocked her up
On a Saturday night flight
To oblivion where her baby girl is now
Happy and laughing a sweet baby girl laugh

Jon Winston Ivory
Killed thirteen people between the day of his birth
January 1, 1923
And his death
January 2, 1973
Fried to a crispy medium in the chair
Of little circumstance to those who hated him
To those he killed because he could
So Governor Warren killed Jon
A little revenge with an audience of fifty
Bloodthirsy witnesses waiting fifty years
For Jon to die

No one knew Jackson or that his name
Was Jackson until he was dead
Died on a snowy day in December
No one knows for sure
A human popsicle that everyone ignored
For days on end until Old Mr. Guthrie
Happened upon poor Jackson
Hiding out beneath his cardboard haven
Hiding from death and hunger
Always knocking at his door and saying,
Jackson, you’re a tragedy that everyone ignores

Mattie Bell Krauss
A hundred and one
Died in her sleep
Her husband hasn’t cried yet
But waits now for his turn to go
With a curious little smile on his face
And a warm hug for his little girls
Not little anymore and sobbing over
Mattie Bell who lived the quiet life
In the best way
And died a quiet death
Now just waits for Bill to join her

If you love to write, consider checking out The Lightning and the Lightning Bug! It's an online writing community, where you can share your fiction, poetry, and nonfiction and connect with other writers. 

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...