Journey's End.

He collected 45's until he found the 78's.
Arranging reunions in school halls
with wine in plastic cups, beer bellies,
bald heads, banners, balloons
and self loathing.
He bought toys, scalextric, meccano,
corgi racers and plastic tracks.
On wet sundays he roasted lunch
basking in gravy and chicken
and the steamed up windows
of his youth.
Friends slowly drifted away
tired of 'back then'
and 'do you remember when?'
In afternoons he lowered shades
watched monochrome movies
smiling sadly
in the flickering grey.
One Sunday, after lunch
he drove to the wood
to a tree he once climbed
scraping skin, ripping clothes
in the sweat of middle age
he failed to reach those heights.
Returning home he bathed
his cuts and humiliation
fell to bed
and a fevered sleep.
He awoke to a familiar scent
his mother's prescence beside him.
He clung to her maternity
while she caressed his fevered brow.
Slipping under musty sheets
between his mothers knees
undoing time and age
until newborn, slickly wet
and crying to return.
Her loving hands guided him home
to her womb.

Everything I think I know
tells me you love me.
Everything I don't want to know
tells me you don't.

We know what we don't know, and that redeems and condemns us all at the same time. There's so much to these four lines.

wishful thinking vs self loathing - who will win I wonder?

in the sweat of middle age
he failed to reach those heights.

great lines Jerry that finalize his inability to return to what once was

The mother stuff? well the idea of this sort of relationship is not unknown but it is the symbolism of his act which is so poignant given his pursuit of the past to the point of returning to 'me unborn'

You have been very subtle here and amazingly (lol multi-dimensional) powerful, which is what I expect from poetry such as yours.

thanks Delta. The end is symbolism alone. A journey backwards has only one end.
vegemites. hope you are feeling much better
JerryB

I wondered if it was and I suppose that is why the symbolism spoke much more strongly to me than anything else.

Hmmm maybe a bit too cliched, but I like it!

Quote:

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wishful thinking vs self loathing - who will win I wonder?

---

What do you desire to win?

It may well be a feverish dream... but still, I think, its natural conclusion

did someone say multi dimensional? Hey can I borrow that? ;)

Midlife crisis. Melodramatic, ridiculous, painful. He watches black & white movies alone, goes climbing a tree he climbed in his childhood, everything points to regression. And it doesn't stop there. You take the ultimate regression back to the womb as an escape from his life, it's very sad but I also found much comfort in the ending. You did it again Jerry, another great poem about the human condition.

The lord created our world in seven days.
First he created the rock itself
so we would have a place to suffer
and so his son could suffer there
some time later
after some fishing
and some cabinetmaking.
He probably tutted at the workmanship
of that creaky crucifix.
To be frank, its amazing
that it took a mans weight.
I digress.
He created woman
to stop all the men
from buggering eachother.
On wednesday
he created dinosaur fossils
to test our faith
and so we could suffer more
through fundamentalists.
He threw the rest of the universe together
on a Friday after a smoke and a mars bar
( Cigarettes and confectionary having been
created on overtime on Thursday)
Early on saturday came the three toed sloth
atheltes foot, the amoeba and black holes.
For a while we lived for hundreds of years
but God saw that alzheimers, impotence
and incontinence was an issue
so decided upon three score and ten.
Nobody is going to buy this, he thought
so he created different faiths
so each could protect his own
and slaughter each other.
He rested on one of the weekend days
and called it the sabbath
as a result shops shut on that day
for nearly two thousand years.
He loved the children
but got very annoyed how they
loved dinosaurs so.
Everytime the lords prayer
(his personal favourite)
was spoken or thought
he delayed that persons demise.
Each time a person in need
began a request
'God help me'
he would take a personal interest
but sometimes he was busy
and with others he just couldnt be arsed.
But in 2010 years after the man who may be his son
or a prophet or a salesman
died on a busmans holiday
there are people living every word
and newcomers trying again.
God knows maybe how many followers
of scientology will be spouting crap
in another two millennia
Still we must give them all
the greatest of respect.

I think poem very tongue in cheek and 2ND part about ''Friday'' onward I was have little chuckled to myself. Great poem.

thanks zoo :) this has now been transfered into last nights post as God said it should be so.

I will cut and paste this poem and claim it as my own (as is Gods will of course)

Is ok Delta dear. It is past midnight here and I can now post it again :)

I sure hope God will restore this to its own thread. Good natured humor and sarcasm, the best mix in all of 2010 years.

(am I supposed to say what doesn't work now?)

have reposted so tell me all that doesnt work there :)