Farewell Speech 1989

It looks like an evening I've looked at before,
So young and swinging from the withered,
Welcoming branches of an apple tree planted
Seven score years in order to house animals;
And underneath we buried their ashes.

The sun is a tarnished, brushed copper green

Delicacy produced by everlasting veins;
And memories sing in this fluid pain.

My father calls me young, and my son calls me old,
I live, flickering day by day between the two,
A fool so foolish for youth and hungry for age.

The sharp, black suit of corporate smugness is
Hung tight and crackles in it's seams but it won't
Break into my dreams or separate me from
The promise of eternal glory where thoughts
Of minutes and hours and days and months
Are swept aside by the roaring, rushing tide
And a sweeping wave of Hello, not Goodbye.

Reviews

[Toni Prehoda Kahler]

I'm caught up in this piece, by rhythmic phrases that pull at me, though I don't fully understand (I doubt I do anyway). I am loving the images you set before me: the familiar evening "swinging from the withered, welcoming branches of an apple tree..." which seems both old and young, tying in to your father/son stanza. And "The sun is a tarnished, brushed copper green/delicacy produce by everlasting veins" wow! I have thoughts about God here. I so much want to know what memories "sing in this fluid pain". So I imagine my own instead. And you are "flickering day by day" bewteen young and old --- this is incredible stuff! I know nothing of the corporate world, but I feel your strength, that you don't let that reality interfere with your dreams, your eternity.
Deep stuff. Thanks, Emily, for the nudge to come read.

[Phibby Venable]

i love the use of color and the way the images grow. It is a poem of the
middle ground & wonderfully written.

[PianoandPage]

had to read this twice. first i thought i knew what this was about but then i reread it and now i have a new idea which (at least for me) fits better.

i love the way you effortlessly juggle the narrator's relation to the young and old. how he is left, in the inbetweens.

i felt that you took a somewhat sad/tragic story and kept it hopeful, reflective, and immersive. great job!

the images were unique and had a distinct hue.

the end line in the context of reuiniting with what we long for was very poweful.

[mick weller]

Yes, yet always the 'hello' - shrewdly observed... but how that 'fluid pain' serves to suck us backward...

[R J Askew]

This feels very wise, like the thoughts of a great philosopher sitting on a distant hill, but seeing everything with a hawk eye. Especially like the suit line. Read the poem earlier today and that line was in my head as I commuted home, though the suits looked a bit creased and weary at 8 p.m. on a Friday after capitalism broke. Couldn't solve title though. 1989 such a significant year.

[poddar kushal]

It is brilliant. The command over emotions and control them within a form of poetry. everything is going for your wonderful poem

[Emily B]

Oh, you are truly a wonderful artist poet. I have to share these words. You should be read.

Thank you for sending your words my way.

[Butch Decatoria]

Simply brilliant. Surprising I'm the first to comment. You are the definity of true poetry, beauty piece with imagery that weaves strong emotion and it is believable... The rhythm is percise and does not falter, each stanza it's own poem. Wonderful work. Brilliant.

~~Pfluffer (B. Decatoria--Cassidy)