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(01 may 1962 / U.S.A.)

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Aging Poet

Come and see the old poet
Laying in his bed of ashes and dust,
His love in ruins
His mentality frozen by restless rust,
His hungry heart emptied of it's fertile blood
His souls melodic purpose nearly gone,
The mellifluous music now so silent
The end, of a once wonderful and powerful song.

What happened to this poet
With dread you may ask,
The ancient story ofcourse
The evils of age and wear, and so damned many things out there
Working away at his heart, fulfilling their wretched task.

When poets speak truth and beauty into this old world
Any breath may be their last,
For so many evil spirits will stalk them
With an endless passion to haunt, from the past.
Deep hearts risk
Becoming weary and tossed,
When singing lamantations
Of all that's lost.

Still this old poet wrote
For was his vocation so to do,
Even through the battles with doubt
He held on, ever true.
Words from his heart
He rended to give,
The conundrum being
It cost him his life, to fully live...

So look! Look deep
Here lays the old poet - in state
Having succumbed - like all the living shall
To mankinds unavoidable fate.

May all the aging poets forever
Rest in peace, and ever be blest,
For the words dug with pain from the depths of their souls
Are nothing less than the very best.

(for: Townes Van Zandt)

Submitted: Friday, August 26, 2011
Edited: Thursday, January 24, 2013


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Comments about this poem (A Young Mans Dream by Smoky Hoss )

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  • Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi (2/27/2014 5:09:00 PM)

    Poets are eternal and their poems are everlasting, but they, as the human, are succumbed by the evils of old age and weaknesses…a beautiful idea, Smoky..Congratulations…

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  • Karen Sinclair (2/27/2014 3:27:00 PM)

    Beautifully poignant. We will all reach that end line eventually. Loved it. Ty

  • Stephen W (2/27/2014 10:34:00 AM)

    A good effort, obviously heartfelt.

  • Paul Reed (2/27/2014 4:14:00 AM)

    Agreed that the last four lines are memorable

  • Pradip Chattopadhyay (2/27/2014 2:22:00 AM)

    For the words dug with pain from the depths of their souls
    Are nothing less than the very best.

    these words would remain etched!

  • Constance K Yost (9/1/2012 8:03:00 AM)

    Your poem catches and holds the heart with velvet gloves. Why am I crying? I'm not old-

  • James Casey (7/2/2012 10:53:00 PM)

    There you go again, striking the nail on the head. Keep this up and I'll be a bigger headache than I already am... Nice Job......... Smoky

  • Kaila George (6/27/2012 10:38:00 PM)

    I seam to discover so many talented people blessed with the gift god gave them, their muse of penmenship their rythem and rhymes of words are truely amazing. I feel like a babe compared to so many who are indeed poets of our time. This is a brilliant write...I keep saying that word...'brilliant'...as the youguns of today would say 'AWESOME man' for me I just simply bow at your majestic words.

  • Joseph Anderson (4/22/2012 3:13:00 PM)

    Gosh! Could this be about me, also, A beautiful, cosiderate tribute to us old timers. A compassionate write

  • Sara Fielder (2/17/2012 7:11:00 PM)

    How did I wind up here reading your eloquent poetry? And, why am I crying? This poem is stabbing me in the heart.

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