MORBIDITY

by Jack Freedman

 

I. To Bob:

 

Your words
Aroused the mind,
With prose of peace
Deeply penetrating the brain.
Cortexes moan to the sound of your voice,
Laced with imagery,
Depicting the nirvana
Most of us never achieve.
Your tall tales of triumph
Outnumber true tales of turmoil:
The passing of your wife
Months after your eternal bond,
Firsthand visions of injustice
During your mandatory service of bloodshed,
The shelter you lacked,
The refuge you sought in the woods,
And the drugs you struggled to kick.
Though you suffered greatly,
I was honored by your withered smile.
I vividly remember
Colorful images of leafy euphoria
Between exchanges of vocal viewpoints
And I enjoyed our long conversations
As we sailed along the river.
Without hesitation and regret,
I donated everything I could give to you.
What I gave was always enough.
It is unknown
As to where your soul lies,
Whether it be under the sun
Or within the clouds,
But your legacy continues
To walk this planet forever.

 

II. To Dan:

 

Ninja with a tortured soul.

We joked that you would never live

To be a dirty old man.

Some said you were in a dimension

Possessed by souls with artificial intelligence.

In certain cases,

They were not far from the truth.

The throes of schizophrenia

Could have very well been

An overactive mind

Racing at 150 miles per hour

On Route 278

Heading towards the bowels of drudgery

That no mind could manufacture.

But the cancers of poverty,

Aimless directions,

And bad luck

Steered you off base.

You needed a home,

A place you could call your own,

Not psychiatric wards or crack dens.

If what they say is true

And home is where the heart is,

Surely your family possessed it.

I know you realized that.

You must have.

It’s just too damn bad that

It came too late

And your mind raced no more.

When you melded with metal

Your body soared like William Tell’s arrow.

The concrete would have been the apple you pierced

On top of this planet’s head

Housing an eroding psyche.

We haven’t forgotten about you,

For I have inscribed your legacy in ink

Bound by the words of your peers,

Many of whom could relate to your inner struggles.

God speed my friend.

 

III. To Rebecca:

 

If Neil Young kept searching for a heart of gold

Surely he would find yours.

I wish I knew more about you

Before you crossed into the light

As Aurum auricles ached.

I found personality traits

Through terse verses of poetry,

Sharing happy moments,

Wonderful places,

And a realization of your unique views on life.

Just as I found your writings

You found a voice through them

And it was amplified by an ISBN number.

In true form,

An interpretation

Of your words

Would be unveiled

Like the tombstone that marks your place in this world.

Possibly,

They might be scattered across the elements,

Infernos initiate the induction into infinity

As wind sweeps you into the atmosphere,

With the possibility

That you may land in a pond or field.

But surely,

You’ve made your mark,

And I am happy

That I helped you in your ventures.

————

This poem is called, “Morbidity.”  This serves as a tribute to three friends in my life.  Bob (AKA Virginia Bob) went missing several years ago and we haven’t heard from him since.  Ideally, he would have been in the collection.  My first book, Serotonin Seas, was dedicated to him.  Dan is the person that TTtG is dedicated to.  His untimely death involved him getting hit by a car.  Rebecca is featured in the book, and as mentioned in a previous blog, she died this year from a heart attack. Surely, if another book is written, it will be dedicated to her.  They will be missed, but thankfully their legacies have been scribed.