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Eternity Seen In An Old Man's Eyes

Updated on April 3, 2016
They left laughing.
They left laughing. | Source
Living on dreams of yesterday.
Living on dreams of yesterday. | Source
"Now I see "him" coming.
"Now I see "him" coming. | Source
Sitting sometimes  spitting to prove  I am alive.
Sitting sometimes spitting to prove I am alive.
Loneliness is a monster that lives on and on.
Loneliness is a monster that lives on and on. | Source

Old age ain't fun. I can't drink, think, conspire or drink
I sit alone with all my moans with words of mouth that now just stink.
Time was when I had wings for feet so sleek and fleet.
Slowly, slothfully sniffing my ties, mocking my cries
Blurring my eyes, watching the flies on corpses of lies.

Hands tremble as icicle suffocates on eve, drip by drip taking its leave
One more hope, one more rope and noose choking a sleeve.
A liar, a buyer, a black pyer hook with sly smiles a' cloaking
I stand on moving hand as tick becomes tock and ember stocking.

Fly slow, oh memories pure tell me again how "we" endure
Fly soft, oh angel of sanity, keep my eyes from softer vanity.
And walk heavily, oh sword of law, erase "her" sin that I only saw
Talk, oh heavens of sanc, like my yesterdays, skin so soft, hands so raw.

We danced, we sang, we drank too much in Heaven's view
Bones breaking, old spirts aching, no will to lift a shade.
Clinging wrinkled eyes see death's blood in older eyes
And now, muted cries as breath settles then lies.

How swiftly Mercury flew and quickly "her" bosom knew
I was bowing to unseen rooms in "her" icy rooms of blue.
She never spoke as I gasped on her scent, never giving a clue
"Her" neck of wine, lips divine, and opaque vows she threw.'

Now here I am gazing again through dirty pane of walkless lane
Seizing each beat of old heart's retreat and rain kisses my hope away.
Finally. Oh, relief of finally. An end, my end. My flowers still born.
Head bowed low, no gold to sow and meet whom I dreaded
The tunes I sang, the thoughts that rang and roads I seldom treaded.

She fades from dancing on my eyes of easy sun and butterflies
Cries as muted minions lording past forgotten dominions.
Steps cease and eagles reach the "strand" once given
Waiting, debating and not expecting my beggarly lot.

So reach high, oh spirits of free and fair, of long, quiet steps of dusty stair
Touch me, oh pitiful wings, tell me a dream of childish things.
Wash the labor, the savor, and wasted sweat from my frame
Lay me swiftly in moist sod so sweet
Wild roses at head and stones at my feet.

We danced. We sang. We drank.

"If eyes are windows to the soul, then the scars on an old heart tell a story all their own."

— Kenneth Avery

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    • annart profile image

      Ann Carr 13 months ago from SW England

      You're welcome. Let's have some more like this one!

      Ann

    • kenneth avery profile image
      Author

      Kenneth Avery 13 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Hi, annart,

      "I love you and your sweet comments. They soothe the storms in my spirit. What storms am I talking about? I cannot go into that topic right now, but soon. Thanks again and may God bless you."

      "Write me anytime."

    • kenneth avery profile image
      Author

      Kenneth Avery 13 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Siddharth,

      Thanks so much for stopping by. And thanks deeply for your warm comment.

      I pray that God blesses you richly.

      Write me anytime.

    • annart profile image

      Ann Carr 13 months ago from SW England

      This is the kind of work I like to read from you. You do it well. Your poetry is poignant and you have a fine observation of life and emotions.

      This is powerful and tells a life story. Well done!

      Ann

    • profile image

      Siddharth Kapoor 18 months ago

      Interesting style. Great work. The quote at the end says it all.

    • kenneth avery profile image
      Author

      Kenneth Avery 19 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      bravewarrior,

      You leave me such supportive, warm, and caring comments.

      Thank you, I know is not adequate, but dear friend, it is all I have right now.

      Peace to you.

      Love, Kenneth

    • bravewarrior profile image

      Shauna L Bowling 19 months ago from Central Florida

      Kenneth, your poetry is so interesting. It flows well and forces the reader to really pay attention to the words. Very deep and thought provoking. I find your mind (and muse) very complex. Your writing styles are so varied.