Where has he gone?

Think about it.

Where has he gone?

It was a year so simple,

Early 1971,

Billie Joe a mere 6 months,

A baby born to no one.

 

No one, you ask?

That can’t be possible under scientific fact!

Oh but it is, it stands so true,

His father loved the b**b tube. 

 

Billie Joe cried,

For hunger set forth;

His father cheered!

“Eastwood is on channel 4!”

 

1989 slowly set it,

Billie Joe, at age 18;

He applied for college, his hopes and dreams,

His father bought a new TV. 

 

“Dad I got in!” Echoed through the house;

Harvard, Yale; we never found out.

Guns N’ Roses played through the speakers,

Dad yelled, “Why is Poison the feature?”

 

Fast forward 10 years,

1999, the millennium nears;

Billie Joe is now just Bill,

Living with his wife in New York, Jill.

 

Bill’s father sat at home,

Email took the nation by storm;

He’d ask around, clubs and bars,

“How do I email my favorite star?”

 

We reach the decade, 2010,

A year of negligence and politics on CNN;

Bill’s Father just bought a new flat screen,

 Put in the same spot where the other TV’s have been.

 

MTV is the new obsession,

Driving kids mad with the Hollywood procession;

Bill’s Father watches, in delightful dismay,

His eyes glued on the high-res display.

 

“Billy come look, Lady Gaga has arrived!

She’s wearing a dress made of pie!”

But Billy doesn’t answer, he’s no longer around,

He’s doing greater things in the life he’s found.

 

His Father watches as a limo pulls in,

Bodyguards and reporters lining in front,

Two figures emerge through the open door,

Surrounded by flashes in an instant.

 

A picture pops into the Father’s head,

Billie Joe, a mere infant,

Crying and crying to be fed,

Crying and crying as he goes to bed.

 

The past comes back,

Billy’s Father looks in a snap!

There on the screen, the flashes subside,

As Bill and Jill walk down the aisle.

 

“My son is a star? My son is a star!”

Bill’s Father jumps in the car.

He drives fast, pushing his car,

To see his son, his son the star.

 

He arrives so quickly,

Jumping out;

Pushing through crowds,

That stands all about.

 

He sees Bill, behind a camera,

Jill by his side;

The interviewer laughs so loud,

She takes his hand and leads him inside.

 

Bill’s Father hears the last question,

The interviewer so calmly asks,

“Who is your father, and where is he now?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

 

Bill’s Father slowly walks home,

Tears in his eyes; a wound on his soul.

He can only think one of thing, a question so calm,

“Where, oh where, has my Billie Joe gone?”

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

People need to take care of real life. A lot of folks get lost in TV and things that don't matter. I like the way you told the story and the very good ending. Love bring love. Separation will create more separation. A excellent poem.
Coyote