Hugh Rhodes

Hugh Rhodes Poems

Hugh Rhodes Biography

Hugh Rhodes was born in East Hartford, CT. to a working class family. He was a troubled soul from the very beginning, and left school at the age of 16. He moved to PA. where he worked for a few years until he decided to travel a little throughout the 70's. He headed to California and on the way climbed Pikes Peak and walked across Death Valley. He eventually ended up in Alaska, where he worked on a fishing boat for a few months before returning to East Hartford. Once he returned, he landed himself in and out of jail numerous times, a victim of " the creature" as Irishmen called it. He was a lifetime alcoholic who lived a transient life that never brought him a real address. It was his love of poetry that kept him civilized. He always could buy wirebound notebooks to write in, and he filled dozens throughout his years. Most ended up saved by his mother, and after her death he entrusted the notebooks to a lifetime friend, June L. Mita, who writes under the name of Julyn S. Pride. His subjects reflect injustices with the military, a keen sense of Veterans hearts, social intolerance, and the breakdown of civilization. He writes about love as well, and his love of astronomy comes out frequently in his metaphors. Hugh had no love of family, and that is often reflected in his poetry as well. He was a rebel who never found his cause, so he wrote about it. He was never published. However, his story should be told and his poetry deserves to be read. He died on 12/22/2016, a victim of a pulmonary embolism and an overall failure of organs due to smoking and drinking heavily.)

The Best Poem Of Hugh Rhodes

Snapshot

If I could paint your legs
They would be the sapphire of Diana's Pool
Bathed in the light of your eyes.
Shaded by the green inflected brown of
The woodland trees.
I Dream of long ago on rainy summer days
At the lake….
Eternally lucid in your buoyant heart.

Forever early autumn under the pines
Among the hills of Buckland,
I would never ever take you home -
Intimations of Sweden and Norway
Ripple through the muscles of
The flash between your thighs.

A hundred sighs, a thousand nights
Embroider your satin thighs -
Days when you were young and brave
And I was still your total slave.

I am jealous of the rocks you reach
And feel for as you glide.
Your legs navigate the memory of themselves
Amid the rushing stream.

I will follow you with my broken limbs,
Anywhere your beautiful face and body
Grace the light of day,
And frieze Diana' Pool this way.

Hugh Rhodes Comments