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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Burying Hawkie Snyder

 

We buried Hawkie Snyder yesterday.

Put him in a muddy hole

        next to some old preacher's grave.

Carried him in a brownish box --

        the damn thing weighed a ton.

The handles were brass and wet with rain

        and slippery in my hands.

My shoulders ached from carrying it,

        Hawkie weren't no little man.

Of course it rained, it always does.

But this was not some gentle rain,

        a rain just barely hard enough

                to get your pant legs damp

        and give a little extra bother

                without any extra pain

        while it picks up some poor sinner

                and takes him through the Pearly Gates.

No, this here rain was different.

It came down in slams and angry streaks

        and slapped all the mourners in the face

                and made them drop some extra tears.

The rain was hard, but we all came --

        dying's serious stuff around here.

We all came and stood around

        in dark blue suits and overcoats,

                black dresses and them little hats with veils,

        and watched the reverend sprinkle holy water

                that got swallowed by the rain

        and tried to hear the prayers he said

                and not to look each other in the face.

His wife set a couple roses

        and a couple tears upon the box

                before they sunk it in the ground.

His boys each threw a spade of dirt

        and maybe choked, "Good-bye."

Then they all headed for the cars

        and me, I stuck around to say good-bye

                to the dead folks in the crowd.

Guest Xradion
Posted

*Xradion gives a standing ovation (ha, take that Gyrfalcon!) *

 

        Awesome! It reminds me a little of Shel Silverstein, Mark Twain or maybe even Walt Whitman. Almost Spoken Word, though leaning more towards plain free-verse. For some reason, it sounds vaguely familiar. Probably just reminiscent of several different funeral descriptions I have read, my favorite being the poem "The Emperor of Ice Cream" by Wallace Stevens. You should check it out. It's far more complex than it looks at first glance.

 

        *...And if I can save the earth from the hearse with my verse then I durst quench that thirst to nourish and flourish, as hope moves on.*

 

 

 

 

 

Xradion,

The Horny Druid,

Scholar of the Ancient Arts,

Holder of the Eye of Odin.

 

"The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream."

-Wallace Stevens

 

"When at home, do as the Homans do." –Xradion

  • 1 year later...
Posted

Hugs a big welcome back hug

 

At first read, I think it flows well and I definitely like it. Since I know you like nuts-and-bolts feedback as well as impressions, I'll try to reread it critically.

 

Welcome home.

 

-P

Posted

Pered, he's not back, we just wish he was. Look at the date. I'm glad you pulled this poem up though, Ayshela. This is awesome and I must have missed it. :)

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