At my expense

At my expense

A Poem by Jack...
"

When you lose someone you care for, life my be a stage, but a very lonely one.

"

At my expense

 

 

Sawdust coated planks of worn grain and smooth edges find

toes tapping inside hard brown leather shoes,

not polished since Sunday’s pot luck

allowing scuffs formed on lonely sidewalks

to glow beneath the lights, suspended over head

 

The din of the crowd plays to my nerves, (I peek from the side)

Aunt Lucy’s pleated skirt moves involuntarily

with her words as she gossips to anyone who will listen

Politicians shake hands as they take the prime seats,

balding heads blocking views and causing children to giggle

 

Sweat beads, runs, drips on my rented suit,

speckles of gray on white linen, charging the heat

with reckless abandon as creases relax

and I adjust my belt with the precision

of the previous wearer

 

Thick fabric, paisley and purple, stained by age but still

magnificent in appearance, hide me from the gathering

of locals and visitors alike…when I hear the band ring up,

happy go lucky music brings this sense of urgency

to my ever quickly beating heart

 

Stage hands bounce back and forth and a thumbs up

lets me know it is time…

music reaches a crescendo as the curtain lifts skyward

and I am faced with the reality that has all to often been a dream

and then a nightmare

 

I step to the front, clear my throat,

begin counting the many eyes staring at me,

searching for greatness, brilliance, charm

and I read my poem…penned the day I lost you,

the day my heart shattered, the day my world ended

 

No applause today, as I stand on this sad stage

gazing at gaping mouths, wide-eyed disappointment

as I pray the curtain drops as quickly as it rose

allowing the comedian to rescue the audience with

his offering of humor…at my expense

 

 

© 2013 Jack...


Author's Note

Jack...
Thank you for reading

My Review

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Reviews

Wow a very vivid and honest description of the agony that is such a loss. The comparison to the spectacle is great and such a cutting yet understandable ending showing the feeling of horror from your eyes at the mouth agape teary-eyed reaction to your soul, but then inevitably even the most empathetic audience would rather be lifted up than brought down to your level,....even if it is at your expense. Brilliant.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much my friend. I appreciate you taking the time to read and review my poetry.
Astro

11 Years Ago

Well when looking for inspiration, it's best to return to the source. ;)
This poem is amazing; it's so beautiful in its simple language and clear images. The stanzas are so carefully expressed that I feel like someone from the audience watching and knowing the discomfort that you are experiencing. Perhaps if the rest of the audience could see that they would have exerted more sympathy. Poetry may be an escape and a form of therapy, but it has been my experience that not everyone shares the same feelings, and some people don't care at all! Beautiful poem!

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thank you so very much karen. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment on my poem. Your .. read more
"Aunt Lucy’s pleated skirt moves involuntarily
with her words "

"Thick fabric, paisley and purple, stained by age"

"I step to the front, clear my throat,
begin counting the many eyes staring at me,
searching for greatness, brilliance, charm
and I read my poem…penned the day I lost you,"

Jack I am simply floored by this one.. beyond outstanding. Rich in imagery and metaphor. Full of suspense and strong feelings. You draw us into the picture sitting watching you read your poetry and we the audience are so struck by your pain we can do nothing but sit not knowing if would be proper to applaud your pain.. EXCELLENT. another favorite.. Rose



Posted 11 Years Ago


shallimarRose

11 Years Ago

I have never gotten to read spoken word except on blog talk... I use to be a singer (small time club.. read more
Jack...

11 Years Ago

Yes, I performed for years and it never bothered me, but reading poetry on the Friday night radio sh.. read more
shallimarRose

11 Years Ago

I can do it on blog talk radio.. Scared to read on stage.. :(
This is some pretty heavy stuff. Great story too.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much sir.
You bring out the feeling of anxiety, of being exposed, and then - heartbreak: "I read my poem…penned the day I lost you..." Underlying is the courage it takes to keep stepping onto that stage... This one got to me, Jack.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much my sweet friend. Happy you found some enjoyment in this.
Executed in your inimitably beautiful style...a poignant poem and well conceived Jack; Heartfelt indeed...Rose


Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so very much Rose. You are a very good friend.
Aww.. so sad.. bereft with tears. I am so sorry, Jack. I miss your love poems, but I understand when you lose your muse.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much Lori. They'll be back.
A very sad write for a poet performer on the stage of life that either lost his beloved or flopped in the experience of love shattering his heart to pieces. I felt the tears and embarrasement of it all. A splendid write Jack...:)

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much my friend. I appreciate your kind comments.
Sami Khalil

11 Years Ago

You are welcome...:)
Wow Jack, I don't know what to say to this one. I was with you throughout this nightmarish encore, the anguish and anxiety is palpable on the page, leaves a hard lump in my throat. Amazing, my friend.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Jack...

11 Years Ago

Thanks so much my dear friend. Sometimes this is exactly how it feels.
Frieda P

11 Years Ago

I certainly felt it through your words...not a good place to be.

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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on July 23, 2013
Last Updated on August 12, 2013
Tags: loss

Author

Jack...
Jack...

San Antonio, TX



About
Not much to tell about me, I am just Jack, I am a poet, a writer, a musician, a painter, a builder and a dreamer. I live in south Texas but am originally from New Jersey and miss it more and more all .. more..

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